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ILLIT performing Do the Dance for Studio Choom
Still from ILLIT's official Studio Choom performance of “빌려온 고양이 (Do the Dance).” Video: Studio Choom.

RaeRae’s verdict: ILLIT found a French-house loop that sounds like a music box learned how to flirt, then built the choreography around five girls trying to act normal while their nerves have other plans. The song is sweet, strange, and annoyingly easy to replay. The final minute needed one more surprise.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mLQBjeERh9E

Release File

“Borrowed Cat” Is the Better Title

The English title tells everybody to dance. The Korean title tells us why these five girls are having such a difficult time getting started. “빌려온 고양이” means “borrowed cat,” an expression used for somebody who is normally lively but becomes quiet and stiff in an unfamiliar place. Moka explained it through the song’s first-crush situation: the girl gets nervous in front of the person she likes and turns into that borrowed cat.

That is a real concept, not cat ears taped onto a random summer single. The lyrics catch the speaker’s body refusing to cooperate. Her heart is racing. She wants to move closer. Instead, she freezes, wiggles, says a little French, and hopes the other person understands the mess. “Do the Dance” is the instruction she keeps giving herself.

The Strings Arrive With History

The opening string figure comes from “優雅なる脱走 (Yuga Naru Dasso),” translated as “Graceful Escape,” from the 1989 anime film The Five Star Stories. That sample gives the track an older fantasy-romance feeling before the house beat arrives. ILLIT are not standing on a plain club loop. They are dancing over music that already sounds like somebody running through a palace with terrible timing and a very good outfit.

Official showcase reporting described the track as French house. The kick, bass, clipped vocal phrases, and repeating groove support that description. The arrangement keeps its central loop light enough for the strings to remain audible. It does not bury the unusual part under ten layers of comeback noise.

That Credit List Is a Crowd

Bang Si-hyuk, Frants, Fig Tape, Shinkung, and Dyvahh are among the credited producers. The writing list is much longer and includes Moa “Cazzi Opeia” Carlebecker, Ellen Berg, Tomoyuki Asakawa, Jang Jeong-won, Miah, Bay, Kim Kiwi, Maryjane, the 4 Seasons writers, ILLIT’s Yunah, and LE SSERAFIM’s Huh Yunjin.

A list that large can produce a song polished past recognition. Here, the recognizable pieces survived: the borrowed-cat idiom, the fantasy string sample, the “Wiggle Meow” hook, and the nervous little change into French. Yunah’s name in the credits matters because a member helped write the language that ILLIT have to perform. Yunjin’s credit also connects two HYBE girl-group generations without turning the song into a feature nobody asked for.

The Five Voices Stay Light Without Becoming One Voice

Minju has the easiest tone to pick out. Her lower, breathier color gives the song a little shade whenever the arrangement risks becoming pure sugar. Yunah attacks lines with more direct force, which suits the parts where the speaker tries to talk herself into moving. Wonhee’s rounder tone sits naturally inside the hook. Moka gives the playful phrases clean shape, and Iroha handles rhythm with the confidence of somebody who knows the choreography will finish the sentence.

The production keeps everyone in a narrow, airy range, so this is not the best track for judging the full limits of their voices. It is better at vocal casting. Each member gets a phrase that matches how she moves through the concept, and nobody has to belt over the borrowed orchestra to prove the song is serious.

The Chorus Is a Loop, Then a Habit

The central hook works because the rhythm is as important as the melody. “Do the dance” lands like self-coaching, while “Wiggle Meow” supplies the ridiculous phrase that sticks after one listen. The bass keeps everything moving even when the vocal line circles back to the same idea.

That repetition is also the weakness. The song establishes its entire trick early and trusts the groove to carry it. A more disruptive bridge, a changed string line, or one final member-led variation could have made the last chorus feel earned. Instead, the track leaves almost exactly the way it arrived. Cute, tidy, and already back at the beginning because I pressed replay.

Studio Choom Lets the Cat Stretch

The Studio Choom performance is the clearer place to evaluate the choreography. The members have room to complete the low shapes, hand details, and catlike stretching without a story edit cutting away. The formation opens and closes around the member carrying the phrase, then switches before the picture becomes too symmetrical.

Iroha’s control stands out in the sharper transitions. Moka understands the comic timing of the small paw and wiggle details. Yunah makes the larger movements look less precious. Minju does not overplay the shy expression, and Wonhee fits the central contradiction: she looks comfortable on camera while performing a girl who cannot make herself act comfortable.

The styling keeps them in the magical-girl neighborhood without putting five identical costumes onstage. Soft color, layered skirts, boots, ribbons, and sporty pieces let the members share a world while keeping separate silhouettes. Studio Choom’s lighting is bright enough to show the footwork. Thank you. A dance channel should let me see the dance.

The Music Video Turns a Crush Into a Transformation Problem

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=negtrQu5mTA

Zac Dov Wiesel’s official video takes the nervous first-date lyric and gives it a magical-girl transformation. The members move through romantic, slightly unreal spaces where attraction changes their behavior and appearance. Cat signs, enchanted objects, quick costume shifts, and effects keep interrupting what could have been a normal meeting.

The video is busier than the Studio Choom stage, but the important idea remains readable. These are girls caught between wanting to be noticed and wanting somewhere safe to hide. The camera treats the awkwardness as comedy instead of tragedy. Nobody is delivering a speech about becoming fearless. They are trying to survive eye contact.

The visual effects occasionally pile up faster than the song develops. One more uninterrupted group-dance passage would have helped the MV connect its fantasy story to the choreography. That is why both official videos belong in this review. The MV explains the borrowed-cat situation. Studio Choom proves the dance can carry it without the magic tricks.

What Worked

What Needed Another Life

The arrangement does not change enough after the second chorus. I wanted the sampled strings to break loose, the bass to drop out, or one member to interrupt the established pattern. Anything that made the final round feel like the nervous girl finally did something different.

The English title is also less interesting than “빌려온 고양이.” “Do the Dance” is functional. “Borrowed Cat” makes me ask a question, sends me into a Korean expression, and explains the whole performance once I have the answer.

RaeRae’s Final Verdict

ILLIT made first-date paralysis sound like a house track playing inside an anime castle. That sentence should be too crowded. The song is not. Its best choices are specific, a Korean idiom, a 1989 soundtrack sample, five distinct performance styles, and choreography that understands nervous energy can be funny.

I wanted a stronger ending. I still did the dance twice.

Sources

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