u/xianghua71

VMA Voting. BTS has been nominated for Song of the Year and Best Kpop.

Adding:
What makes the VMA nominations interesting is that BTS didn’t have to change their position on the Grammys to receive them. The two awards work very differently. For the Grammys, music has to be formally submitted for consideration before it can move through the nomination process. BTS made the deliberate choice not to submit ARIRANG this year, which means they removed themselves from Grammy consideration altogether.

The VMAs are different. MTV chooses its nominees, so BTS can be nominated without making the same kind of formal decision to enter their music for consideration. That distinction matters. BTS never said they no longer wanted awards or recognition, and they never said they would reject every category labeled K-pop. They specifically chose not to participate in the Grammy process after explaining that they wanted their music to be heard for what it is rather than divided by region or language.

And now “SWIM” is nominated at the VMAs not only for Best K-Pop, but also for Song of the Year. To me, that second nomination is the important part. MTV can acknowledge where BTS comes from while still allowing their music to compete in one of the night’s main categories. BTS didn’t have to submit themselves to a separate lane to get there. They simply made the music, and MTV nominated it.

So I don’t see the VMA nominations as contradicting their Grammy decision at all. If anything, they help explain it. BTS did not walk away from being recognized. They chose not to participate in a particular awards process under terms they clearly did not agree with. There is a very big difference between refusing to submit yourself to a system and being recognized by one anyway.

>Refrain: 아리랑 아리랑 아라리요 (Arirang, Arirang, Arariyo)
Crossing the Pass: 아리랑 고개로 넘어간다 (Crossing over Arirang Pass)
The Departure: 나를 버리고 가시는 님은 (Dear who abandoned me)
The Warning: 십리도 못가서 발병난다 (Shall not walk even ten ri before their feet ache)

There is a spiritual significance to Arirang that we do not talk about enough.

It is more than a Korean folk song. It has carried generations of longing, separation, resistance, reunion, and hope. Its exact origins remain uncertain because it belongs not to one writer or one moment, but to the Korean people themselves.

In 1896, as foreign powers threatened Korea’s sovereignty, three of seven young Korean men who had traveled to Washington, D.C., recorded “Love Song: Ar-ra-rang.” Now held by the American Folklife Center at the Library of Congress, it captured Korea’s voice on foreign soil—130 years before another seven young Korean men would carry Arirang around the world.

Long before the Japanese occupation, Koreans sang Arirang about love, parting, hardship, and reunion. Under Japanese colonial rule from 1910 to 1945, it became something more. As authorities suppressed Korean language, culture, and patriotic expression, versions associated with nationalism and resistance were banned. Protesters sang it during the March First Movement in 1919. Its sorrow became inseparable from Korea’s stolen sovereignty, yet its survival proved that the Korean spirit had not been broken.

Those wounds outlived the occupation, passing through Korean families while later generations of Japanese people inherited a relationship with a past they did not create.

It was this history BTS carried into their first album together after military service and years apart. They could have returned with a title designed for easy global consumption. Instead, they named it ARIRANG—rooting their return in a word that is unmistakably Korean.

The vision came from Bang PD and Boyoung Lee, but the traditional Arirang sample in “Body to Body” was not an easy sell. The members worried it might feel too direct, heavy-handed, or overly nationalistic. Much of their concern centered on how global ARMY would receive it. ^(1)

>Bang PD asked them to imagine what it could become: “Imagine performing to 60,000 people, most of them foreigners, singing along to the chorus of Arirang. That moment will be incredibly iconic. It felt important enough to bring it up because I feel you are about to throw away something huge. I believe you will gain much more without losing musicality.”

Jhope fought hard for the sample, first supported by Jimin then later by Jungkook and V. RM eventually connected the idea to how excited they had been to hear Brazilian music. If they could embrace another culture’s sound so naturally, why couldn’t the world embrace Arirang? And if anyone could pull it off, he reasoned, it would be them, BTS the Korean country boys. ^(2)

Their resistance mattered; discussions were necessary. They understood the gravity of what they were touching and refused to use Arirang as decoration. They ultimately chose to keep a longer sample of the beloved folk song.

In concert, the inherited melody rises near the end of “Body to Body,” late in a show that has already moved through reunion, defiance, and celebration. It arrives when the stadium is fully connected and tens of thousands of people are ready to sing as one. Then the moment transforms.

As the ancestral sound of Arirang fades, the show transitions into “IDOL,” one of BTS’s most unapologetic declarations of identity. The members parade around the stadium with enormous banners as the sequence erupts into modern Korean pride.

The reunion becomes celebration. After more than three years, BTS is back. The song of the past passes into the hands of the present generation. It is the cultural centerpiece of their concert.

Nowhere was its meaning more striking than Tokyo, the first international stop after the tour opened in South Korea. Decades after Japanese colonial authorities suppressed versions of Arirang, seven Korean artists stood inside Tokyo Dome and sang “Body to Body” as that melody rose before nearly 100,000 Korean and Japanese fans across the concerts.

We do not know what private discussions or cultural consultations happened before the performance. But it is difficult to imagine BTS, HYBE, the Japanese promoters, and the production team staging a sequence this sensitive without careful thought. The sample, its placement before “IDOL,” the banners, and the location were not culturally neutral. Preserving the full sequence suggests that its meaning was understood rather than avoided.

There is a profound irony and emotional weight in that moment. A melody once treated as a threat by Japanese colonial power was now being sung with affection by a new generation of Japanese people. Korean fans witnessed the country that once tried to suppress their identity embrace the song that helped preserve it. Japanese ARMY sang Arirang with them.

The past was not erased, and personal guilt was not placed upon a generation that did not create it. For a few minutes, the descendants of two cultures bound by painful history stood inside the same Korean song, not trapped in the roles assigned to their ancestors, but creating a different inheritance together.

For Koreans who migrated and built lives far from home, hearing it honored around the world brings joy and a welcome grief, the ache of separation, sacrifice, and everything their families carried so later generations could survive. That grief confirms that the pain was real and that those sacrifices will not be forgotten. ^(3)

Arirang is an invisible thread connecting Koreans across oceans and generations; those who stayed, those who left, and those who returned; the ancestors who endured and the descendants who may speak different languages or call different countries home. The song holds both pride in how far Koreans have traveled and sorrow for what it took to get there.

Mexico showed how far that thread could reach. Although the concerts at Estadio GNP Seguros were sold out, thousands of fans gathered outside and joined when Arirang rose from within. They had no seats, no shared language, and no ancestral connection to the song. Still, they came. Still, they sang. The stadium could contain the concert. It could not contain ARMY.

This is more than the globalization of K-pop. BTS did not leave their Koreanness behind to reach the world. They brought the world toward Korea. Audiences are now asking what Arirang means, why it became a song of resistance, and why both North and South Korea separately placed it on UNESCO’s Intangible Cultural Heritage list.

From Goyang and Tokyo through North America, Mexico, London, Germany, and Paris, more voices have joined the song. South America, Australia, and Asia will carry it next.

During Arirang sample at the second Paris concert, Jung Kook visibly cried as the audience sang it back to them. By then, the two Paris shows had drawn approximately 184,000 people. His tears seemed to hold exhaustion, gratitude, relief, and perhaps the realization that ARMY had waited and the connection had survived. Arirang has always held sorrow and joy together, grieving separation while continuing toward reunion. In Paris, his tears carried both.

At my seventh and eighth concert stops in Baltimore, I watched Bang PD’s vision become reality. As Jung Kook sang Arirang with ARMY, and our voices carried beyond the stadium and across Baltimore, heard even miles away. Tens of thousands of people, Korean and non-Korean, from different countries, languages, and cultures, were singing Arirang together.

BTS did not simply sang Arirang at their concerts. They extended its invisible thread to ARMY around the world, linking us to one another and to a Korean story we now all carry forward.

I believe the generations who kept the song alive long enough for BTS to inherit it are blessing, and protecting them in ways we may not fully understand.

Harvey Mason Jr. is not an outsider looking in on K-pop. Long before becoming CEO of the Recording Academy, he built an extensive career writing and producing for SM Entertainment, one of HYBE’s biggest competitors. Since 2014, he has worked with EXO, Girls’ Generation, Jonghyun, EXO-CBX, NCT, NCT 127, TVXQ, and other SM artists. At the 2026 Asian Leadership Conference, he also shared that he is currently working with NCT 127 and LISA.

None of this proves bias, nor is it evidence that Harvey Mason Jr.’s professional relationships influenced Grammy decisions. Producers collaborate across labels all the time. What it does establish is that the CEO of the Recording Academy knows K-pop, understands the industry, and is well acquainted with its biggest players.

That is why I keep coming back to the same question: how do you repeatedly speak about K-pop’s global growth, cultural influence, and economic power… and so often leave out BTS?

This wasn’t a one-time omission. In an interview about AAPI representation, Recording Academy-affiliated executive Zeena Koda highlighted Seventeen and Stray Kids as artists “moving global music” and “dominating revenue generation at the top.”

Before anyone misunderstands me, let me be clear. I listen to Seventeen and Stray Kids too. They’re incredibly talented artists, and they deserve every success they’ve earned. This isn’t about taking anything away from them. My question isn’t why they were mentioned. It’s why BTS—the group that fundamentally changed the global trajectory of K-pop—wasn’t.

One omission doesn’t prove anything. But when the same omission happens repeatedly across multiple interviews and discussions, it stops feeling random. It begins to feel like a pattern.

That pattern became even harder to ignore after BTS announced they would not participate in the Grammy process. Harvey Mason Jr. said the Recording Academy was “disappointed” and defended the new Best Asian Pop Performance category. Zeena Koda went much further.

Rather than addressing why so many fans, journalists, and industry observers questioned whether the category created a separate lane for Asian artists, she described critics as “fuming in ignorance,” insisted the category “wasn’t a category for BTS at all,” explained that it was created for artists who “need more visibility and shine—not decades-deep pop superstars,” described BTS’ public position as a “press campaign,” and lamented that the Academy’s work was being “torn down.”

I expected the Academy to defend its decision. What surprised me was the tone. For someone speaking in a leadership role, describing critics as “fuming in ignorance” and framing BTS’ position as a “press campaign” felt less like engaging with criticism and more like dismissing it. Leadership doesn’t require agreement, but it does require responding respectfully to legitimate concerns.

Ironically, Zeena Koda’s own explanation revealed what I believe is the category’s biggest contradiction.

If the category truly “wasn’t for BTS,” then what exactly was BTS expected to do?

Had BTS submitted, the category would have instantly become one of the most talked-about Grammy categories in the world. Not because it was new, but because of BTS and the support of ARMY. Their participation would have brought global headlines, record-breaking engagement, and the attention that only BTS can generate.

The category may not have been created for BTS, but it stood to benefit immensely from BTS and the attention only they could bring.

That is the contradiction I can’t shake. The message, whether intended or not, almost sounds like this: “This category isn’t for you, but we’d still love everything only you can bring to it.”

Maybe that’s why BTS walked away.

There is no public evidence that BTS knew of any conflict of interest or that Harvey Mason Jr.‘s professional relationships influenced Grammy decisions. I’m not suggesting otherwise. But institutions are judged not only by fairness, but by the confidence they inspire.

By that point, the issue was no longer just the category itself. It had become about trust. Institutions like the Recording Academy depend on credibility. Artists and fans don’t expect to agree with every nomination or every winner, but they do expect to believe the process is fair, that everyone is judged by the same standard, and that legitimate concerns are met with thoughtful dialogue instead of dismissal. Once that trust begins to crack, every decision is questioned—not because people want to be cynical, but because confidence has been lost. And without confidence, even well-intentioned decisions become difficult to believe.

Could the new category help other Asian artists? I genuinely hope it does. More recognition for Asian artists is something worth celebrating. But that doesn’t erase the concerns surrounding how the category was introduced or the questions it raised for BTS. Supporting greater representation and questioning whether the world’s most successful K-pop act should have been placed on a separate path are not mutually exclusive.

I also believe the category risked creating a place where the world’s biggest Asian act could be recognized separately instead of continuing to compete in the General Field—the very categories where BTS had already proven they belonged.

I’m glad BTS walked away.

If the Academy itself says the category wasn’t created for them, then BTS didn’t owe it their participation. They didn’t owe it their artistry, and they certainly didn’t owe it the power of ARMY.

Sometimes the strongest statement isn’t accepting the invitation.

Sometimes it’s refusing to help build something that, by its own creators’ explanation, was never meant for you in the first place.

Last month, I wrote that the Recording Academy’s new Best Asian Pop Music Performance category did not feel like inclusion. It felt like segregation disguised as recognition. BTS had spent years proving that music transcends language, geography, and race, only for the Grammys to separate Asian artists from everyone else and call it progress.

On July 29, all seven members announced that they would not submit their music for consideration at the 2027 Grammy Awards. Each posted the same message at the same time, in Korean:

>“We hope that music will be heard for what it is, without being divided by region or language.”

Seven men. One united statement in their own language. Boss move.

BTS did not simply decline to participate. They rejected the premise behind the category. They are saying that artists do not need the Grammys to validate their artistry, influence, or global reach. Music transcends borders, and creating a separate Asian category does not fix the Academy’s failure to recognize Asian artists alongside everyone else.

The bridge the Grammys claims to be building is one BTS crossed years ago.

Fans also discovered that BTS’s Grammy performances of “Butter” and “Dynamite” had disappeared from the Recording Academy’s official platforms. “Butter” reportedly became unavailable on July 19, followed by “Dynamite” on July 29, the day BTS announced its decision.

“Butter” was one of the most magical performances ever staged at the Grammys. Removing it does not erase what BTS created or the history they made. It reminds us how much the Academy benefited from their talent, global audience, and ARMY’s enormous engagement while repeatedly failing to award them. Whether the performances disappeared because of licensing, routine archival changes, or a response to the members’ statements has not been explained. The timing is impossible for ARMY not to notice.

Recording Academy CEO Harvey Mason Jr. said he was “saddened” by their decision and respected it. He defended the category as a way to recognize more artists rather than isolate them, emphasizing that those artists could still compete in the general field. ^([1])

BTS had just left Paris after performing for approximately 92,000 people each night, bringing 184,000 people to two sold-out concerts. That is cultural and commercial power on a scale few artists will ever experience, backed by a fandom most can only wish for.

Asia is not a musical genre. Asian artists do not make one interchangeable form of music. Grouping them primarily by geography and language is not the same as recognizing them equally.

If BTS had submitted ARIRANG, would the Academy have seriously considered it for Album of the Year, or quietly directed it toward the category created specifically for artists who look and sound like them?

That is the question the Academy still has not answered.

BTS had already answered it on ARIRANG. In “Aliens,” they declare:

>Yeah, we aliens. The nerve on you, shameless
Show some respect, we aliens
Out of the East, the sun’s risin’
Aliens, aliens.

They took the identity used to separate them and turned it into a declaration of pride. They are not asking permission to belong. They are demanding the respect they have already earned and reminding the industry that the sun also rises from their side of the world.

If an institution repeatedly fails to recognize that level of musical success, overlooking the artistry, impact, numbers, and cultural influence directly in front of it simply because the artists come from another continent, then I no longer trust that it knows what it is doing.

I know a kids’ table when I see one. The Recording Academy separated Asian artists from everyone else and then indicated that they could still join the main categories if they wanted. That does not sit well with me, and apparently it did not sit well with BTS either.

Mason may be saddened, yet BTS no longer needs the Recording Academy’s recognition. They already have sold-out stadiums, chart records, cultural influence, and seven members who stood together and made their position unmistakable. Most importantly, they have ARMY.

BTS and ARMY have always been on the same page. They know we want what is best for them and will always support their decisions. I also believe BTS does not want ARMY to be exploited by institutions that want our views, engagement, ratings, and money while refusing to treat them as equals.

Some people are now discovering BTS because they watched seven artists choose integrity over institutional approval. We shall dub these new fans the NO Grammys ARMY.

As they learn more about BTS, they will discover that the group has challenged gatekeepers, rejected narrow definitions of success, and stood firmly in its identity from the beginning. More than a decade before this decision, BTS had already given us the perfect soundtrack for it in “N.O”:

>Everybody say NO! It’s not going to work anymore
Don’t be captured in others’ dreams
We roll, we roll, we roll
Everybody say NO! It has to be now
We’ve done nothing yet. We roll, we roll, we roll
Everybody say NO!

BTS did not attack the Grammys. They simply refused to let someone else define where they belonged. They rejected being pigeonholed, made seven simultaneous statements in Korean, and walked away together knowing ARMY supported their decision.

They said NO. Honestly, it did not come as a surprise. BTS was simply being true to who they have always been—authentic, principled, and unwilling to let anyone else define their worth.

This choice feels especially meaningful when I think about Suga. His eyes used to sparkle whenever he spoke about winning a Grammy. It was a dream he carried openly, one that now, with ARIRANG and everything BTS has accomplished, finally seemed within sight.

>Walking away from something you never wanted is easy. Walking away from a dream within reach because principle matters more than prestige takes wisdom and maturity.

That is an even greater victory. The Grammys were once the carrot BTS chased. They no longer need to. Their plate is already full. In fact, BTS is the entire buffet.

Today, I am an even bigger fan than I was yesterday.

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^([1]) A question of industry relationships

Long before becoming CEO of the Recording Academy, Harvey Mason Jr. co-wrote and produced songs for SM Entertainment artists, including EXO’s “Overdose” and “Moonlight” and Girls’ Generation’s “Mr. Mr.” His later K-pop credits include work connected to EXO, NCT 127, Red Velvet, SHINee, Taemin, and Jonghyun. SM Entertainment is one of HYBE’s fiercest competitors.

This history does not prove bias against BTS, and I am not presenting it as evidence of misconduct. Producers routinely work across labels. Still, it is fair to ask whether established industry relationships can create conscious or unconscious biases.

We may never know whether Mason’s history influenced anything. This is my speculation, not an accusation. In an industry shaped by relationships, business interests, voting blocs, and gatekeeping, it is not an unreasonable question to raise.

View Poll

Well… ARMY understood the assignment. 😂 As more people hear about BTS boycotting the Grammys, **ARIRANG** is climbing the charts again. Let’s keep it going! Stream the album with no skips and let’s give this masterpiece another well-deserved run. It’s honestly pretty amazing watching the songs rise again simply because people truly love their music. 💜

SUGA has donated millions to charity and recently co-created a program for children with autism through music and sports. He contributes to the economies of all country BTS tours. Yet the best they could do was post a 2024 photo and bring up one of the most difficult periods of his life being relentlessly targeted by media outlets using fake photos and videos, just to sell an article about his stake in the Athletics? What the hell! I sent an email to the editors.. OMG I’m livid!

https://www.reuters.com/sports/investors-including-chan-ho-park-k-pop-star-suga-buy-stake-as--flm-2026-07-27/