“Black Eye” by Vernon
Is there anybody out there?
This post is the second of two posts I’m writing about pop-punk. You can read the first one about pop-punk and anger here. Thank you for reading!
When Vernon of Seventeen released his solo song, “Black Eye,” this past December, one of my first thoughts after listening was, “This is…healing?”
“Black Eye” is part of Seventeen’s (my favorite K-pop group if you’re new here!) “The Thirteen Tapes” project. Also known as TTT, this is a long-term project, in which each member releases a solo song, complete with a music video, accompanying photobook, and other behind-the-scenes content. Previous releases include “Spider” by Hoshi and “Ruby” by Woozi—Vernon’s “Black Eye” marks the third release to date.
The TTT project aims to highlight the musical and performance individuality of each member. Hoshi, the leader of the group’s performance unit, starts the choreography of his song by dangling upside down. Woozi, the group’s main producer, released an unexpected rock track with lyrics entirely in English.
“Black Eye” pays homage to the pop-punk of the ‘00s, marking a new direction for Vernon, a member of the team’s hip-hop unit, who has primarily released hip-hop and hyperpop solo songs in the past. But a self-declared fan of Avril Lavigne and All Time Low, this release was a long time coming. It reminds me of blink-182 and The Wonder Years, with the track heavy on drums and guitar, pulling back during the verses before it explodes in the chorus. Vernon sings in a low and guttural tone and plays with volume in the live cover of the song (my favorite rendition).
As a pop-punk lover and Seventeen fan, I’ve been listening to this song a lot. I find myself reaching for it when I need something loud to be lost in. In many ways, when I listen to the song, I feel like I’m living it out—in the outro, Vernon goes, “Turn on the radio all the way up / 'Til your eardrums explode.”
The song is angry and nihilistic. The music video starts with Vernon yelling, while he stands alone, his battered eye reflection staring back at him. What follows is a frenetic sequence of scenes with Vernon alone at center frame for most of it. He’s swerving on an empty road, smashing TVs with a baseball bat, and sitting on a sofa singing directly at the camera.
The chorus shouts, “I’m on my worst behavior / Don’t stop me now / I fucking hate this world / So show me a way out / Wake me up from this nightmare, please / I can't stand this reality.” There’s this exasperation about being alive, about existing in this often cruel world.
Coupled with that, the song is also largely about loneliness. The lyrics speak about this unknown second person, ‘you’ referring to an outsider: “Don't leave me in the dark / You said you won't be far” and “With your innocent eyes, you smile so bright / Stop wasting your sunshine on me / 'Cause I can't tell if it's real or a lie” and “'Cause you can't save me from my sadness.” Though acknowledging that there can be a reprieve from loneliness through companionship, the fear of getting hurt and abandoned wins out. It’s the moment when mistrustfulness starts eating away at your relationships, of not believing that there could be something genuine and real that’s worth cherishing.
One of my favorite things about pop-punk is the way that the genre validates these complicated, sad, and angry feelings that are a part of life. Instead of invalidating sadness in the way of toxic positivity, it leans into it and lets the listener wallow in their feelings.
“Black Eye” spends its time grappling with this dissonance of wanting companionship, while at the same time, being scared shitless about it. In the first verse, Vernon asks, “Is anybody out there?” while in the second verse, he emphasizes, “Solitude / I got a couple friends / Just me, myself, and I.” In the outro, he says, “Let's dance all night long / But if you come too close / I might just burn you whole / Turn my back and shut the door.”
When you’re afraid of letting people in, isn’t it easier to just drive others away and double down on being alone? It’s self-sabotage in the means of self-preservation—“How you like me now? / Put a muzzle on me / I'll spit in your mouth.” The fact is, you don’t actually know me and I won’t let you get to know me.
Listening to “Black Eye” reminds me of defense mechanisms, of convincing yourself to thrive off being alone because that’s who you have at the end of the day. It reminds me of letting relationships crumble when things get too hard, or not putting in the effort in the first place, scared of the vulnerability that it requires. It reminds me of a closed door, barely audible voices on the other side, of hearing it all and choosing not to be a part of it.
However, along with these feelings, listening to this track also brings me some peace of mind. When I mentioned in the beginning how this song feels healing in an odd way, it’s because it made me think finally, someone out there is feeling what I’m feeling. Someone out there understands this loneliness, this anxiety. Someone out there gets it.
That’s also why I love listening to pop-punk—it validates your feelings, while also reminding you that you’re not the only one going through it. Through the mere act of listening to the same song, a bond is formed—listening to someone else’s song about loneliness already makes you feel less alone. I hear you and you hear me, despite it all.
As the weather gets warmer, sometimes I’ll walk down the crowded streets, this song turned up on my headphones. I mouth along to the lyrics, unapologetically. The song ends with the line, “Knock, knock / Is there anybody out there?”
I’m alive. I’m listening. Others are, too. Isn’t that a relief?
Some recs:
Thank you for reading! Seventeen released a new album today—happy comeback day to me and them! You can read my related post about pop-punk here: Pop-Punk’s Not Dead.
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