Lee Chan-hyuk doesn’t return with a whisper—he crashes back into the scene with EROS, a second full-length album that pulses with raw emotion and surreal beauty. Out today, July 14, the record follows up 2022’s ERROR with something even darker, stranger, and more intimate.
If ERROR was about the death of the self, EROS begins with the death of someone else. From that absence blooms a chaotic garden of emotions—grief, desire, denial, surrender. It’s a concept album that doesn’t follow the rules, opting instead to wander through dreamlike soundscapes and existential questions with Lee’s signature mix of absurdity and sincerity.
From the very first track, “SINNY SINNY,” the album sets a tone that’s both ethereal and aggressive, leaning into glitchy synths, sharp percussion, and aching melodies. The production—handled by Chan-hyuk alongside longtime collaborators MILLENNIUM and SIHWANG—leans into avant-garde dance-pop, but never loses the emotional through-line. Songs like “Endangered Love” and “Tail” explode with layered textures and subtle chaos, while “TV Show” cuts with its biting commentary on performative love and hollow screens.
Lead single “Vividra Love” feels like the album’s heartbeat: shimmering, hollow, desperate, and gorgeous. In its accompanying music video, Lee stumbles through surreal scenes that echo the fragility of connection and the illusion of perfection. It’s followed by “I turned around,” a quieter but no less intense moment—one where the mask slips and all that’s left is loneliness.
This is not an album built for commercial comfort. It’s built to disorient you, to make you question where grief ends and love begins.
EROS Tracklist:
Every song was written by Lee Chan-hyuk, with production credits shared across a tight-knit creative circle. There are no featured vocalists—just Lee, spiraling beautifully alone. It’s a decision that makes EROS feel even more like a diary cracked open, chaotic pages fluttering in the wind.
This is not music designed to please everyone. It’s music designed to say something. About how we cope, how we pretend, how we fall apart, and how we still reach—desperately—for something real.