THE FIRST TAKE: A Stage Where Talent Has Nowhere to Hide
I recently stumbled upon clips of BabyMonster on THE FIRST TAKE, and honestly, I was blown away.
For those unfamiliar — THE FIRST TAKE is a Japanese music show with brutally simple rules: one microphone, one take, no pitch correction, no editing, one shot. No flashy stage, no dazzling effects — just a pure white studio, you and your voice, completely exposed to everyone.
How terrifying is that format? It means all those "perfections" you normally rely on — Auto-Tune, post-production tuning, studio magic — none of it exists here. Whatever your actual level is, that's exactly what the audience hears.
And these BabyMonster girls, with an average age of barely over fifteen, stood there and delivered a jaw-dropping performance. Pitch, breath control, emotional expression, vocal harmony — every element showcased frighteningly solid fundamentals.
K-POP: An Industry Built on the Religion of Fundamentals
Anyone who knows the K-POP training system understands that these idols typically go through three to seven years (or more) of intense trainee practice before debut. Vocals, dance, physical fitness, languages, stage presence — every aspect has strict evaluation standards. Fail to meet them and you're eliminated. Simple as that.
Put plainly, the K-POP industrial system believes in one fundamental truth: you need real skills before you deserve to stand on stage.
This system certainly has its problems — the high pressure, inhumane training methods, and disregard for artists' mental and physical health are all worth criticizing. But what's undeniable is that the artists this system produces are genuinely leagues ahead of many peers in terms of professional capability.
Watch their live stages — singing and dancing simultaneously while maintaining pitch and breath control. Then look at some so-called "top stars" performing live... actually, let's not go there.
The Chinese Music Scene: A Stagnant Pond
Now let's look at what's happening in the Chinese music industry.
Talent shows one after another, but what do they produce? Vocally skilled singers? No — they produce trending topics, traffic, and "people with stories." The shows don't want you to sing well; they want you to be meme-worthy, to generate buzz, to have fans willing to spend money voting.
Pitch correction beyond recognition. In the studio, every line is meticulously picked apart, then software adjusts the pitch and breath. The final product can be worlds apart from the person's actual ability. Want to hear them live? Sorry, that might as well be a different person singing.
Fast-food music in the short-video era. A 15-second hook, copy-paste earworm melodies, vapid lyrics. Hot today, forgotten tomorrow. Not a single song that endures. Ask me what good Chinese music has come out recently? I genuinely struggle to answer.
The bar for being a "singer" is absurdly low. Actors crossing over to sing, influencers pivoting to become artists, variety show regulars dropping singles — seems like anyone can sing a few bars and call themselves a "musician." Meanwhile, truly talented independent artists quietly honing their craft get next to no attention or resources.
This isn't a music industry — it's a traffic industry. Music is just a vehicle, a monetization tool. As for whether the music is actually good? Who cares.
From Music to AI: Superficiality Is a Systemic Disease
At this point you might think, "This is just entertainment industry stuff — what does it have to do with me?"
Hold on. Zoom out a bit and you'll realize — superficiality isn't one industry's problem; it's a systemic disease pervading all of society.
Take the red-hot AI industry as an example.
Look at what's happening internationally — OpenAI is pushing the limits of model capability, Google is deeply integrating AI into its product ecosystem, Anthropic is seriously researching AI safety and alignment. Everyone is heads-down on one thing: making the product better.
Now look at the domestic scene.
Launch event after launch event, with PowerPoints a million times more polished than the actual products. Today one company announces they've "surpassed GPT-4," tomorrow another claims "global leadership." Look closely at the evaluation methodology — they've cherry-picked benchmarks they happen to excel at, then trumpet the results. Actually try the product? Well... you know.
Marketing budgets exceeding R&D spending. Celebrity endorsements, cross-industry collaborations, social media viral campaigns — every flashy trick in the book. The product itself? Still crashes, still hallucinates, still gives nonsensical answers.
That's not to say there aren't teams doing serious work domestically — of course there are. But the overall industry culture leans this way: people care more about telling a great story than building a great product.
Big Tech Workplace: A Microscopic Specimen of Hype Culture
If the industry level represents the macro view of superficiality, then big tech workplaces are the most vivid microscopic specimens.
Here, you can see hype culture distilled into every workday, every report, every OKR.
Political factions. Job competence? Irrelevant. What matters is who you follow, whose side you're on. Pick the right faction and everything's smooth sailing; pick the wrong one, and no amount of talent saves you. Technical discussions? Non-existent — every discussion ultimately becomes political maneuvering.
Grinding hours — meaningless hours. Arrive at 9 AM, leave at 11 PM, come in on weekends. You think everyone's grinding out productive work? No — most people are "performing work." Staring at screens for two hours, slacking off until 9 PM before actually starting, stretching 3-hour tasks to 12 hours just to make the timecard look good. Actual productive hours? Probably less than a third.
Sucking up to leadership. "Boss, you're so right!" "What a visionary direction!" — meetings are filled with a chorus of flattery nauseating enough to make you sick. Genuinely valuable dissenting opinions? Nobody dares offer them, because speaking up means you're "uncooperative," "not a team player," "lacking in vision."
The art of status reports. This is big tech's most surreal aspect — having accomplished virtually nothing, the PowerPoint can still bloom into something beautiful. "Empower," "leverage," "close the loop," "strategic play," "granularity"... jargon piled sky-high. Read it and you'd think the team is incredible. Reality? Project delayed three times, not a single core metric hit, but the report still gets an S rating.
Results-oriented? No, report-oriented. Doing well matters less than presenting well, and presenting well matters less than having great slides. You quietly solve a tough technical problem? Nobody notices. Someone else builds a flashy demo and blasts it to the company mailing list? Boss nominates them for promotion.
That's the reality. People who don't do the work manage those who do, and those who do the work write reports for those who don't.
The Root of Hype: A Collective Obsession with Short-Termism
Whether it's the Chinese music scene, the AI industry, or big tech workplaces, all superficiality points to the same root: short-termism.
Nobody wants to spend five years training a solid singer when a talent show can mass-produce "stars" in three months. Nobody wants to spend three years polishing a great product when a good story can secure funding in three months. Nobody wants to spend two years going deep in a technical domain when switching tracks every six months is how you "catch the next wave."
Everyone is chasing maximum return in minimum time — and whether that return is sustainable or genuinely valuable? Well, we'll deal with that when the bubble pops.
The saddest part is that in this environment, the people who genuinely want to buckle down and do real work end up looking like "fools." Practice singing diligently? Not as effective as becoming an influencer. Build a solid product? Not as effective as telling a story to raise funding. Write quality code? Not as effective as making PowerPoint presentations.
Bad money drives out good — that's what's truly suffocating.
In Closing: A Perhaps Naive Wish
After all that, I know one article won't change anything. But I still want to share my hopes, however naive they may sound.
I hope someday the Chinese music scene will return to music itself. No more measuring worth by traffic, no more defining success by trending topics. Let truly talented singers be heard. Let artists willing to invest time in their craft receive the rewards they deserve. I hope to see more and more Chinese artists brave enough to stand on stages like THE FIRST TAKE — one microphone, one chance, let talent speak for itself.
I hope product builders will return to product fundamentals. Less PowerPoint, more code. Less buzzwords, more execution. Less bragging, more user value.
I hope workplaces will return to actual work. Judge people by output, not hours logged. By results, not reports. By competence, not political allegiance.
I hope society as a whole can develop more patience, more depth, less hype, and less speculation.
Maybe you'll say I'm too idealistic. But —
If you don't even dare to have a wish, that's what true despair looks like.
Those teenage BabyMonster girls delivered that performance on THE FIRST TAKE through day after day of tedious practice. Excellence in any field has never had a shortcut.
Settle down and do the work in front of you. Perhaps that's the most effective weapon each of us has against the culture of hype.