Purple Whale
Purple Wave at bOHEmiAN
Gwangju
Sept. 18, 2026
(Jisu Sheen recently moved from New Haven to Gwangju, South Korea, where she’s covering local arts and culture for the New Haven Independent and Midbrow.)
I was greeted with a wave on Friday. A Purple Wave, that is. That was the name of the show I caught at underground venue bOHEmiAN, featuring Gwangju rock band Purple Whale.
The four-piece band played songs from past years as well as new hits from their first full album, 모든 마음을 (With All My Heart), set to release Sept. 22nd.
At times, it felt like the vibrations were reaching my internal organs before my ears—like the music was beating my heart for me. Purple Whale hit a range of psychedelic rock tunes and straight-up ballads. Their song "사랑하자," or "Let's Love," the fifth of their 11-song set, was the latter.
"As I've gotten older, I've become more sensitive," singer 심광희 (Shim Gwanghui) said. "Recently, I happened to listen to an orchestra version of 엄마가 섬그늘에 (Mom on the Shade of the Island) before going to sleep, and I cried my eyes out," he said.
I wasn't expecting to hear the name of a song I knew. That song, also known as "섬집아기" (called "Island Baby" or "Home Alone On an Island" in English), was one I learned before I could even speak.
It's a profound song with a matter-of-fact storyline, like most lullaby bangers. A mother on an island goes to pick oysters, leaving her baby to take care of the house. In the second verse, the baby is sleeping safe and sound, but the seagulls' cries reach the mother's heart and she rushes back home before filling up her basket. A classic feeling. When you know everything's okay, but still.
My mom says she used to sing this song to me when I was a baby, and sometimes she would doze off or get distracted midway through the song.
"Ah," I would tell her. Or "gul"—whatever was the first syllable of the next line. She thought it was hilarious. A baby who doesn't even know what the words mean, patiently giving the singer cues.
Shim said he wondered if he would ever be able to love someone in that way, like a mother can. In the meantime, he said he would try. And that he hopes we might do the same.
"사랑하자," or "Let's Love," took Purple Whale's set into a new dimension. It was slower than the preceding tracks, starting quiet and ramping up to an immersive surround sound for the refrain.
사랑하는 내 사람아 (The person I love)
Shim sang in deliberate, drawn-out notes.
우리 행복하자 (Let's be happy)
In this world of conflicting pressures and desires, is it so wrong to choose happiness?
우리 슬퍼하자 (Let's be sad)
Another funny concept. It was brave, even motivating. If love means being sad sometimes, and that's somehow worth it, then hell yeah! Let's get ready to get sad.
Guitarist 임치현 (Im Chihyeon) imparted the piece with an angsty glamor and technical prowess, leaning into solos that carried the instrumental breaks into anthem territory—a rallying cry for lovers who keep the dream alive.
It was a polite crowd and an extremely reasonable time commitment, a mismatch to the no-holds-barred energy unfolding on stage. At times I wondered if the band knew how much we were enjoying the show, but I was down for the rare experience of enjoying high-energy music in a low-key way. With no opener and a prompt start, the show wrapped in time for me to wander the downtown streets, catch a few scenes from an outdoor movie, and run into a friend selling crafts before heading home.
Purple Whale comes back to bOHEmiAN to do Purple Wave every three months, Shim explained. They skipped June; Shim apologized to any fans who might have been waiting for that one. For new fans (like me), the next Purple Wave is just three months away.
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