RaeRae Reacts | K-pop

BLUE

ZEROBASEONE made sadness sparkle, then Studio Choom took away the scenery and made nine bodies explain it.

Release file

Artist: ZEROBASEONE
Song: “BLUE”
Album: BLUE PARADISE, fifth mini album
Release: February 24, 2025 at 6:00 p.m. KST
Runtime: 3:03
Lyrics: KENZIE
Composition: KENZIE, Andrew Choi, No2zcat, JSONG
Arrangement: No2zcat, KENZIE
Official MV playlist ID: 2hwiRN8t8Ok
Studio Choom playlist ID: hYQaaRFUSJs

Blue is doing two jobs

ZEROBASEONE have used blue as part of their visual identity from the beginning, but this song does not settle for the easy version of the color. Blue is the open sky they want to run toward. It is also sadness, distance, and the fear that a beautiful season can fade. Korean showcase coverage called the combination “mystery refreshing,” which sounds like a beverage until the song proves it is a useful description.

KENZIE writes and co-produces a track where the cool synth surface and emotional vocals keep disagreeing. The beat moves forward with alternative dance-pop momentum. The voices keep looking backward at days already shared. That tension is the whole song. It can sound bright in a playlist and lonely when you read the words.

The chorus reaches upward rather than dropping downward. Its melody lets the vocal line stretch across the synths, and the repeated English phrases are used as landmarks inside mostly Korean lyrics. The arrangement is busy enough to feel airborne but never so dense that nine voices become one anonymous choir.

My complaint is that the verses move quickly past some of the best vocal colors. Three minutes is not unusually short, but nine members create a math problem. By the time one tone registers, the line is already moving. The pre-chorus and bridge solve that problem better because the arrangement gives the voices more room to gather pressure.

The music video keeps the memories moving

The official video treats youth as something already turning into a photograph while the members are still inside it. Blue skies, open space, rooms, streets, and group snapshots build a shared memory rather than nine unrelated beauty shots. The palette is bright, but the framing keeps introducing distance. A person can be surrounded by friends and still look as if he is trying to hold onto the moment before it changes.

The bridge makes that idea clearest. Individual images become a nine-member collage, then the edit moves back into each face. The sequence turns the group’s temporary history into a literal collection of frames. It does not need to announce the contract clock. The fear of missing each other is already in the lyric.

This is ZEROBASEONE’s official upload. It does not autoplay.

Studio Choom removes the weather

The Studio Choom version is not a second song review. It is the performance evidence for the same song. Without the music video’s locations and memory montage, every transition has to come from formation, body line, fabric, and camera distance.

The handkerchiefs are the useful prop. They can read as a keepsake, a signal, or something a person is trying not to lose. The choreography uses them without turning the entire routine into a prop demonstration. They appear inside the movement, travel with the emotion, and then let the members return to clean group geometry.

Nine-member choreography is easy to make symmetrical and hard to make intimate. “BLUE” keeps breaking the full group into smaller pictures, then rebuilding the formation before the stage feels empty. The camera moves close for expressions but usually returns enough space for the viewer to understand how one center becomes the next.

The contrast between soft arms and controlled hits matches the song’s split personality. A flowing phrase follows the vocal ache. A sharper accent answers the beat. The members are not dancing sadness as if everybody has been assigned the same tragic face. They let the rhythm stay bright while expressions and timing carry the unease.

This is Studio Choom’s official performance upload. It does not autoplay.

Nine performers, one changing center

Sung Hanbin gives the choreography its cleanest transitions. His control makes difficult changes look like the next obvious step. Zhang Hao stretches melodic moments without letting the movement go slack. Kim Taerae brings a vocal expression that reads even when he is not holding center.

Kim Jiwoong’s restraint suits the song’s more reflective frames. Seok Matthew makes the brighter rhythmic details visible. Ricky uses stillness and line well, which matters in a routine where not every emotional beat needs a larger gesture.

Kim Gyuvin helps the formations look wide and open. Park Gunwook adds weight when the percussion needs a firmer answer. Han Yujin’s lines keep the lighter sections from becoming visually soft. The performance works because these differences remain visible inside a coordinated group rather than being polished into nine copies.

RaeRae verdict

The song: 8.8/10. KENZIE gives ZEROBASEONE a chorus that can carry both the sky and the bruise. I still wanted longer verses for the vocal handoffs.

The music video: 9.1/10. It understands that youth can look beautiful and already feel like a memory at the same time.

Studio Choom: 9.0/10. The handkerchiefs have more emotional responsibility than some drama leads, and the formation work earns both playlist entries one canonical home.

Final ruling: One song, two useful views, no duplicate review.

Sources and official links

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