On May 21, Epik High members Tablo, Mithra, and Tukutz uploaded a video to their official YouTube channel that offered fans a glimpse into the past, as the trio explored a storage unit filled with items from their early career. The video, initially intended to be a nostalgic journey, soon revealed unexpected and emotional reminders of the challenges they faced as young artists in the Korean music industry.

Around ten years ago, after leaving YG Entertainment, Epik High had hurriedly packed up their studio and office belongings and moved them into storage. With no clear recollection of what was inside, the group approached the video like a treasure hunt through their own history. The initial discoveries were steeped in nostalgia: old merchandise, fashion pieces from their YG days, and handwritten diaries that captured memories from their formative years. However, the most significant find came in the form of a contract that would shed light on a long-standing grievance.

The contract in question was the exclusive agreement Epik High had signed with Woollim Entertainment, the agency that helped launch their career. Debuting in October 2003 with their first full-length album, Map of the Human Soul, the group had quickly begun building their name in the industry. Despite this early momentum, the contract revealed terms that left lasting frustrations, particularly for Tablo. As he examined the document, his reaction grew noticeably serious. “Oh my God. This is crazy. Woollim, our former agency,” he said. Pointing out the date of September 23, 2003, Tablo expressed the lingering impact of that agreement on their financial compensation. “Because of this contract… I made ‘Fly,’ but I didn’t receive a single won,” he explained, revealing that the terms prevented the group from earning revenue from one of their most iconic songs.

Tablo’s candid disclosure highlighted the harsh realities many artists faced during the early years of K-pop and Korean hip-hop. “Because of this damn contract, we didn’t get a single won from music revenue,” he emphasized, underscoring the unfair conditions that often accompany young musicians’ first contracts. Tukutz’s surprise at rediscovering the document added to the moment’s poignancy. “I had this? This is crazy,” he remarked. Tablo then joked bitterly about the contract, suggesting that it might be something to display as a reminder of their struggles: “This is the thing we should hang up somewhere.”

The revelation struck a chord with fans, particularly because “Fly” played a critical role in establishing Epik High’s mainstream success. The track’s contribution to the group’s popularity contrasted sharply with the fact that the members had received no financial reward for their efforts. This disconnect between the cultural impact of their music and the financial recognition they received made the video more than a nostalgic trip; it became a testament to resilience and perseverance in the face of systemic inequities.

Beyond financial grievances, the contract also hinted at tensions with the agency over lifestyle choices. Tablo alluded to the agency’s displeasure with the group for trivial reasons, such as eating shrimp, despite not compensating them for their music. This small anecdote further highlighted the restrictive and often unreasonable demands placed on artists, especially in the early stages of their careers.

For longtime fans, the video offered more than a trip down memory lane. It served as a stark reminder of the obstacles Epik High overcame to establish themselves in a competitive industry. The group’s ability to maintain creative control, build a devoted fanbase, and continue producing influential music over more than two decades is particularly impressive considering the limitations imposed by such contracts. The rediscovery of the Woollim Entertainment agreement provided a tangible example of how contracts could shape, and sometimes hinder, artists’ careers, leaving emotional scars that persist years later.

The storage unit exploration, while initially lighthearted, ultimately revealed deeper truths about the early K-pop and Korean hip-hop scene. Epik High’s journey, as illustrated by this video, reflects both the nostalgia of past achievements and the lingering frustrations of young artists navigating complex industry dynamics. The video’s resonance lies not just in the items recovered, but in the story they tell about perseverance, creative ambition, and the long-term impact of early career decisions.

In revisiting these artifacts, Epik High offered fans an intimate look at their personal and professional history. The mix of nostalgia, humor, and candid reflection made the video a compelling narrative of survival and success. By sharing their experience, the members highlighted the often-overlooked realities behind the glitz and glamour of the music industry, reminding audiences of the resilience and determination required to sustain a career spanning decades. More than twenty years after their debut, the group continues to confront the past honestly, using their experiences to educate fans about the realities of artistic life and the importance of fair representation in the music business.