I wasn’t sure artists still remembered that singing acoustically was a thing, yet The Rose opened their Houston show with exactly that — an intimate, stripped-down moment that felt like a secret they were letting us in on.
The Rose’s journey is one worth admiring. This South Korean indie rock band — Hajoon, Woosung, Dojoon, and Taegyeom — first stepped into the spotlight in 2017 with their debut single “Sorry,” a song that managed to make its way onto countless playlists during the global rise of Korean music. Their combination of raw talent and poetic lyricism quickly set them apart. In 2022, they announced their own self-made label, Windfall, a move that shifted the trajectory of their careers entirely. From there, they made history as the first Korean rock band to perform at Coachella, cementing themselves not just as artists, but as pioneers.
This tour brought their latest album, WRLD, to life in the most charming way possible. They started with acoustic renditions of “숨 (Breath),” “Ticket To The Sky,” and “Childhood” before a stage veil dropped to reveal the coziest set you’ve ever seen. “We brought you guys to our bedroom tonight!” Woosung teased, and he wasn’t wrong — warm lighting, a bed right in the middle, and a sense of home that even included handwritten lyrics etched onto Woosung’s guitar and Dojoon’s piano.
Before diving deeper into WRLD, The Rose took us back in time with “Definition of Ugly Is” and “She’s In The Rain,” songs that had fans — affectionately known as Black Roses — singing in harmony with the band. That shared chorus between artist and audience felt like a moment suspended in time. Then came “Nebula,” a song wrapped in the album’s central message: hope, resilience, and the quiet but unwavering reminder to hold onto yourself and the things you love, no matter how uncertain life gets.
Of course, The Rose aren’t only about the tear-stained ballads. They also have scream-along anthems that light up the room — “Back To Me,” “Alive,” and “Red” had the venue buzzing. Between songs, the members chatted with the audience, reflecting on their early days writing music together in cramped rooms, the random afternoon they came up with their English names, and the wild journey that led to this night.
For all its size, the concert felt strangely personal — like catching up with friends you haven’t seen in years but somehow haven’t missed a beat with. Each song added another layer to the night’s memory, from the nostalgia of “Sorry” to the fairytale ache of “Beauty and the Beast,” the spark of “Wonder,” and the dreamy pull of “Cosmo.” The Rose may be at the height of their journey right now, but something about them tells you the best chapters are still waiting to be written.
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