What Makes SEVENTEEN Different? 10 Years Of Loving The K-Pop Thirteen That Outsmarted The System

NDTV

05-06-2025

New Delhi:
You don't often hear the word "anomaly" used as a compliment in the hyper-formatted, hyper-efficient machine that is the K-pop industry. But SEVENTEEN wears it like a crown.
Ten years into their journey, the thirteen-member group has not only survived the churn-and-burn nature of idol stardom, but they've also reshaped what it means to thrive.
Call it staying power. Call it self-definition. Call it the quiet revolution of a group that turned being "too big" into their biggest strength.
In an industry built on glossy perfection and strict creative hierarchies, SEVENTEEN has always been a little too hands-on, a little too collaborative and a little too good at what they do.
Now, as they celebrate a decade together in 2025, the question isn't whether they're successful; it's how they've managed to stay this original, this relevant, and this fan-connected for this long. And the answer? They never stopped being themselves, they just kept evolving.
13 + 3 + 1 = SEVENTEEN: A Name, A Philosophy
When SEVENTEEN debuted in 2015 under PLEDIS Entertainment, their name confused more people than it clarified: why Seventeen when there are clearly 13 members?
But the math was more poetic than literal - 13 members, divided into 3 specialised units (hip-hop, vocal, performance), coming together as 1 cohesive team. It was a statement of structure and synergy and also, quietly, a vision for longevity.
Each unit brought something distinctive: the hip-hop team (S.Coups, Wonwoo, Mingyu, Vernon) crafted sharp, introspective raps. The vocal team (Woozi, Jeonghan, Joshua, DK, Seungkwan) delivered emotional depth with soaring harmonies. The performance unit (Hoshi, Jun, The8, Dino) turned the stages into kinetic art.
But the brilliance was in the balance - no member was left behind, no skill left undeveloped. It was democratised stardom from the start.
Unlike many K-pop acts whose output is driven by behind-the-scenes producers, SEVENTEEN was branded as "self-producing idols."
That wasn't just PR polish; main vocalist Woozi has long helmed the group's songwriting and production alongside in-house producer Bumzu, while Hoshi and the performance team are responsible for much of the group's dynamic choreography. They didn't just perform the art. They made it. And they've never stopped.
Why SEVENTEEN Feels Brand-New Even Today
Most K-pop groups spend their early years finding a sound, middle years perfecting it, and late years clinging to it. SEVENTEEN, somehow, has sidestepped that linearity.
In 2024 alone, they performed on the main stage at Glastonbury Festival - the first K-pop act to do so and headlined Lollapalooza Berlin.
Their RIGHT HERE World Tour drew 1.5 million fans across continents. At the Billboard Music Awards, they took home the Top K-pop Touring Artist award. But the numbers aren't the most interesting part. The art is.
The group's recent mini-album SPILL THE FEELS landed on Billboard's "25 Best K-pop Albums of 2024." The standout track Spell from their best-of compilation 17 IS RIGHT HERE, was named one of the year's best K-pop tracks and music videos. And all of it, despite their decade-long tenure, feels fresh, not recycled.
That's because SEVENTEEN hasn't stayed relevant by repeating past formulas. They've dismantled them. Their sound now shapeshifts between alternative R&B, synth-pop, orchestral ballads and hyperpop-adjacent experiments.
There's a level of musical risk here that few idol groups, especially those this established, are allowed to take. And yet, SEVENTEEN is producing chart-friendly hits that aren't afraid to be complex, strange, or vulnerable.
What Is SEVENTEEN's Real Superpower?
SEVENTEEN has always understood the power of narrative. But instead of leaning on mystery or mythology like many idol groups, they leaned into transparency.
Through YouTube reality series like GOING SEVENTEEN and Debut Big Plan, fans (affectionately known as CARATs) have watched the members grow up - bickering, failing, celebrating and changing. This access, paired with the group's input into everything from set design to vocal mixing, means their story feels authored by them.
More impressively, SEVENTEEN has sidestepped the common K-pop trap of becoming a brand before becoming people. Their personalities, from Seungkwan's variety show genius to Jeonghan's gentle chaos to The8's philosophical art-boy aura, aren't scripted archetypes. They're human. And that realness is a form of reinvention in an industry that often insists on perfection.
The Power Of 13
SEVENTEEN is one of the rare groups whose size never felt like a gimmick. If anything, it gave them the tools for something more cinematic.
Their choreography is an exercise in precision and spectacle - think kaleidoscopic formations, visual metaphors and dance breaks that feel like short films.
In Don't Wanna Cry, the members move like streetlights and shadows. In My My, their bodies become ocean waves.
The choreography isn't just technically impressive. It's narrative. And that's because the performance unit, under Hoshi's lead, doesn't choreograph to fill time. They choreograph to say something. That's what makes SEVENTEEN performances feel less like concerts and more like art installations, designed to be watched and rewatched with new meaning each time.
The Future Isn't A Rebrand, It's A Reinforcement
At ten years, most idol groups either rebrand to stay afloat or settle into nostalgia. SEVENTEEN has done neither. Instead, they've reinforced who they've always been: hyper-collaborative, fiercely creative and impossible to copy. The industry has caught up to them in some ways, and self-producing idols are no longer anomalies. But none have done it quite like SEVENTEEN. And none have lasted this long while doing it their way.
As they enter their second decade, SEVENTEEN isn't just rewriting K-pop's rules. They're rewriting its rhythm - one beat, one verse, one vision at a time.
And if you're still wondering why they're called SEVENTEEN, here's your answer: because being more than the sum of your parts isn't a contradiction. It's the whole point.