The music for this production navigates the space between memory and momentum. We drew from decades of Korean popular music. The narrative power of pansori, the smooth pulse of 1970s soul, and the quiet intimacy of t’ong guitar ballads. To this foundation, we added experimental electronics for moments when thought fractures or time bends.

            The resulting palette is a deliberate hybrid. Warm rhythm sections and vintage keys coexist with sparse guitar and voice, while stuttering synths and sampled breaths flicker at the edges. A handful of musical motifs return throughout, allowing the score to circle an idea and revisit it, changed.

            Two songs frame the entire emotional map. The “Edge of the Cliff” duet inhabits a more soulful, but unstable groove, with metric shifts and sliding harmonies that mirror the echo of regret. Its lyric wrestles with a central question: can we ever fully step out of the past’s shadow? Minji’s “Broken Feathers” answers without resolving. It’s a quiet, transparent piece built on a Korean t’ong guitar and a close melody, capturing the ache of having the tools for flight but not yet the nerve.

            Pansori’s influence appears subtly throughout—especially percussively. It is how the whole piece begins. We clear space when the story needs clarity and bring in the soul band when it needs drive. Ultimately, we hope the music feels present, remembers its roots, and leaves room for breath, allowing the past and present to speak to each other quietly and clearly.