The Grind

G-Soul: A Link to the Seat of Feeling

“His music makes me feel,” was the resounding notion heard from attendees waiting to witness the collective euphoria brought to them by Korean born Rhythm and Blues artist G-Soul on his Pretty Little Thing Tour. Fans, whether long time listeners or new consumers, consistently echoed the sentiment that it is the soul in his delivery that draws you into his world musically.

It is the emphasis on live instrumentation and a softer, melodic delivery that creates a sort of sonic hypnosis in the body that captivates and translates the language of emotion without the need for understanding every lyric. With that being said, G-Soul does possess an amazing ability to tell a story and walk the listener into any emotional experience regardless of whether the particular context of the song has been lived by the listener.

He is different and distinct, but vulnerable and relatable enough in his humanity to create an air of familiarity that makes you feel close, connected, and curious enough to want to ask more questions about him. For instance, what was it about Jill Scott’s song “Golden” that made him feel deeply enough to make a now temporary change to his stage name? What was it that he was trying to connect to? How has that since inspired the music he has made since then, including the return to G-Soul as his primary stage name? As an observer pondering these questions while getting to know some of the members of his quite diverse audience the hypothesis on what makes G-Soul such an essential link for so many is this: he is uniquely different in plain sight, and loudly so.

For quite a few in attendance, they have grown with him in age, experience, and perspective. They have similarly, through a shared appreciation of his music and culture, have grown with friends and family members. There are bestfriend duos traveling in from across state lines and mother and daughter duos who found deeper connection to their own culture based on similarities they found in language and dialect between the Korean language and their Kenyan native tongue, Swahili.

This also speaks to the sense of cross-cultural appreciation from both ends that appeases the sense of connection to the person behind the stage name that was expressed. While the contract between artist and consumer can be said to be fulfilled at the purchase of a completed musical project, those that seem to have bought in the furthest are those who find their non-typical sensibilities and expressions validated on stage and in a communal environment.

I mean truly, being of African descent if I didn’t see it with my own eyes I wouldn’t believe the soul and the feeling often heard in classic Rhythm and Blues songs by artists like Alicia Keys and Whitney Houston or the lived worship expressed in his cover of Marvin Sapp’s “Never Would Have Made it” would be vibrating from the vocals of a Korean man named G-Soul.

If there was ever a personification of alternative to the normal, it would be him. And yet, his music, concert, and audience make you forget that the notion of normal even exists. For the only thing normal is that we all have a soul, a soul that feels, a soul that wants to be seen, a soul that needs a sense of connection to self, others, and the world around us.

Luckily, so many around the world of different ages, ethnicities, gender identities have found a “worthwhile” link to that feeling of total bliss. Amazingly, the most beautiful part is that G-Soul serves as a representation of just one link in the chain that makes us all one collective body.

The way his rhythm sings our blues only begins to scratch the surface of telling the story of what makes us whole.