진격 (ZinKyeok)Vocals: 김학진 (Kim Hak-Jin)Guitar: 이희두 (Lee Hee-Doo), 지광현 (Ji Gwang-Hyeon)Bass: 한성재 (Han Seong-Jae)Drums: 최상준 (Choi Sang-Jun)Club BoojikGwangjuMay 30, 2026 (Jisu Sheen recently moved from New Haven to Gwangju, South Korea, where she’s coverin g local arts and culture for the New Haven Independent and Midbrow.) Fresh off a bout of heavy-metal screaming at underground music venue Club Boojik, singer Kim Hak-Jin checked in with the crowd. “It’s not scary, right?” he said in Korean. “It is scary!” a small child shouted from the depths. He was the sweetheart of the night, the youngest headbanger in the room. His fellow rock and metal fans laughed. No way this kid was scared; he sounded like he was placing an ice cream order. “I already know that’s a lie,” Kim replied. “This old man has a daughter too.” He and the rest of his band, ZinKyeok, continued their calls of doom, shaking the very core of the human soul. The junior metalhead jumped around with the rest of the crowd. The show was a battle of the bands between ZinKyeok and mellower Gwangju rock band 빅나인밴드 (Big9 Band). When I opened Club Boojik’s thick door, the whole place was singing along to Big9’s ode to their hometown, “빛고을연가” (“Love Song to the City of Light”). Their anthem shouts out Gwangju’s Kia Tigers baseball team, Chungjang-ro cinema street, and the warm memories of youth, all in a steady rhythm for group singing at the top of your lungs. ZinKyeok’s songs were good for all-out singing too, in a different way—more guttural, less enunciated. And if you’ve got long hair for prime headbanging form, like most of ZinKyeok’s members, even better. (This turned out to be perfect for a group of schoolgirls in the audience, rocking out with everything they had.) “Thank you for calling us to Gwangju in May,” Kim said. It’s an active month in the city, a month of remembering the 5.18 uprising of 1980 against waves of denialism that have surfaced and resurfaced over the past 46 years. ZinKyeok’s repertoire dove into the dual nature of struggle and dignity. Anyone who was actually shivering in their spiky boots Saturday night might have found comfort in this lyric from Zinkyeok’s “The Other Side of Darkness”: Fear is the desire to live, to live It was a profound lesson of hope I didn’t expect to find in the lyrics of a heavy metal set. And it felt true. When you are running away from something, there is also something you’re running toward, waiting on the other end. Kim continued with his thoughtful goth lyrics in Korean and English, tapping into the feeling of approaching a destiny that is painful and inevitable, but maybe beautiful as well. Shine my soulShine my mindDarkness is another hopeThe most desired wish in front of me In all the concerts I’ve been to in my adventures writing reviews, I have to say, I haven’t usually noticed the sound quality of the venue itself. I guess I’m not a real audiophile like that (yet…); I am a little too happy with a crunchy car radio. But the one other time I visited Club Boojik, I thought, “Is it me, or all the bassists ridiculously talented tonight?” Now on my second visit, I became more convinced the venue is adding some secret sauce. The low rhythm notes were, like last time, impossible to ignore. To seal the deal, the owner was once again running back and forth from the sound booth to the stage, muttering things to no one in particular, like, “Oh, I have motion sickness,” or “What a great night!” So I think his attention to detail may have something to do with the juicy bass line—a distinction notable enough to get through to my dense ears. ZinKyeok guitarist Lee Hee-Doo reached into the abyss of his Flying V guitar to deliver riffs seemingly designed to make fans shake their heads in disbelief. The seasoned grit of the guitar, returning to the melody like a tongue over a sore tooth, was just right. I like to hear the guitar complain, I’m realizing. Right when the band was mid-collapse in the satisfying freefall it had built up the whole song toward, drummer Choi Sang-Jun hit a tasteful cowbell. A few knocks were all the avalanche needed. Kim ended the song with themes of loneliness and nightmares, classic heavy metal topics. Coupled with the take on fear from earlier in the song, these specters didn’t seem so frightening after all. It was a scary, not-so-scary dive into the horror of everyday existence. Who won the battle of the bands? Who cares? It was the perfect storm of hometown pride, hardcore screams, and surprisingly all-ages fun. The post Between Rock A Hard Place appeared first on New Haven Independent. ...read more read less