One of 2025's biggest hits, spending eight weeks atop the Australian chats, is by a fictional K-pop group.
HUNTR/X and their global chart-topper Golden is lifted from the Netflix , which is nothing short of a cultural phenomenon.
How did we get here? Well, we might have to credit a stocky man in a powder-blue jacket doing a goofy horse dance.
On July 15, 2012, South Korean musician Psy — real name Park Jae-Sang — debuted atop the South Korean charts with his garish, satirical single Gangnam Style.
That wasn't unusual. The "bizarre singer", as the Korean media nicknamed him, had topped domestic charts several times throughout his 12-year career.
But Gangnam Style swiftly exploded in popularity and ensnared the Zeitgeist.
By year's end it had topped the charts in more than 30 countries, including Australia, and became the highest ever charting South Korean song in the US, peaking at #2 behind Maroon 5's One More Night.
Breaking the internet and flooding socials, Gangnam Style achieved the kind of breakthrough global success that had mostly eluded K-pop acts, despite their burgeoning popularity in East and South-East Asia.
That's largely thanks to the song's music video which less than six months after its release — on this day back in 2012 — became the first YouTube video to reach a billion views.
The loud, colourful clip — and Psy's signature choreography — was inescapable, becoming an endless source of memes, parodies and reaction videos, supercharging an internet culture that has since become common pop music practise.
It even crossed over into the political sphere. Former prime minister Kevin Rudd attempted the trademark dance, so too then-United Nations secretary-general Ban Ki-Moon, who hailed the song as a force for world peace.
Meanwhile, Psy was awarded the Okgwan Order of Cultural Merit, one of South Korea's highest cultural honours.
Not bad for someone who'd previously sparked controversies with his home nation over marijuana possession and neglecting mandatory military service.
Not your typical K-pop idol
Born in Gangnam to a successful executive father and restaurateur mother, Psy spent his 20s in America, studying at Berklee College of Music before returning to Seoul in 2000 to start his career.
By the 2010s he was firmly established as a rapper, dancer, TV personality and pop troublemaker in South Korea.
When Gangnam Style broke, the chubby 35-year-old didn't look or act much like your typical, highly manufactured K-pop talent.
"There's really no-one like him. He's intentionally different and strange," says Dr Sarah Keith, senior lecturer in media at Macquarie University.
"He was an outlier."
K-pop idols had tried to crack the US market before Psy, including pioneering singer Rain in the late 2000s, followed by Wonder Girls and Girls' Generation who released English-language singles and made late-night TV appearances.
Psy has said Gangnam Style was never targeted to foreign markets, but a local one.
However, its seismic impact is widely credited with popularising hallyu, or the Korean Wave, a term for the international proliferation of South Korean culture and a strategy the South Korean government has actively fostered since the 1990s.
"I believe hallyu would have happened anyway without Psy, but he accelerated it," says Dr Keith, who lived in Korea in the 1980s and has been studying its culture since the 2010s.
Responsible for a worldwide hit that wasn't sung in English, Psy got a mainstream audience thinking more about pop culture existing outside of the West.
"That is a huge achievement. Suddenly everyone was paying more attention. [He] increased overall awareness of South Korea as a world class cultural producer," says Dr Keith.
Gangnam Style's video was exotic enough to provoke 'lol, so random!' responses from Western audiences, yet contained enough familiar musical tropes to make it palatable.
The track's crowd-pleasing EDM hooks have more in common with novelty-popsters Black Eyed Peas and LMFAO's viral hit Party Rock Anthem, released a year earlier, than the earnest, finely curated K-pop of the time.
The combination of a diabolically catchy earworm and bizarre visuals piqued the curiosity and kept people coming back to the source on YouTube again and again.
"I think for a lot of non-Korean audiences it just adds up to an inscrutable thing where you go: 'What is this? Who is this man? What is he singing about? Why is he singing 'hey, sexy lady'?"
A satirical subtext
Beneath its over-the-top presentation Gangnam Style is charged by social commentary.
It lampoons Seoul's affluent Gangnam district where the nouveau riche waste wealth on keeping up with its fashions and lavish lifestyle.
In the video, Psy — styled in colourful suit jackets, sunglasses, and slicked-back hair –busts out his ridiculous equestrian-themed moves in stables, subway platforms, parking garages and several real-life Gangnam locations.
Throughout, he's made to be the butt of the joke.
A hotshot sunbathing in what turns out to be a children's playground. Speed-boating through a canal intended for swan-shaped paddleboats. Strutting in a tux, model on each arm, as a storm blasts foam in their faces.
"My goal … was to look uncool until the end," Psy told Reuters in 2012. "I achieved it."
"It's definitely a video that's meant to be comedic," says Dr Keith, who notes Psy has a track record for musical sarcasm.
Before Gangnam Style he was "poking fun at Korea's suffocating nine-to-five office culture" on 2010's Right Now, complete with a video where he dances through gridlocked commuter traffic and staff cubicles in a muscle suit.
"He had this outsider's perspective [and] track record in socially critiquing South Korean society," says Dr Keith.
That satirical subtext was largely lost on international audiences who focused on the cartoonish novelty of this odd song, and even odder dance, diminishing it to one-hit wonder status.
The next wave
In the 13 years since Gangnam Style, K-pop is no longer niche. It's a cultural juggernaut that's developed blockbuster South Korean acts.
Chart-busting groups like Blackpink, Twice, NewJeans and Stray Kids have achieved even bigger global reach, selling out stadiums and ruling social feeds, plus with some intriguing Australian connections.
Then there's BTS, the Korean boy band whose unprecedented success outstrips Beatlemania. They credit Psy for cracking the door to overseas markets they eventually kicked wide open.
"He paved the way for K-pop in the US which meant we were able to follow his footsteps with ease," said BTS member Suga, who collaborated closely with Psy on That That, the lead single from his latest album.
Despite its ubiquitous success, Psy has spoken about the negative impact Gangnam Style had on him personally and professionally, pressured to produce another global smash.
"When the song is a hit then your songs need to continue to be hits," he once told CNN.
"When the person is a hit the success is more sustainable. In this case I'm the former and BTS is the latter.
"That heavy burden that I felt in 2012 — BTS has been shouldering that for six or seven years now."
After living for years in Los Angeles, Psy has since moved back to Gangnam where he fosters the next generation of K-pop stars under P Nation, his music label and management company.
There are now more than 300 clips in YouTube's Billion Views Club, but Gangnam Style was the first.
Currently at 5.7 billion views and counting, it remains among the top 10 most viewed videos in the platform's history.
The hallyu wave has swelled beyond music and spilled over into the historic Oscar winter Parasite, record-breaking Netflix productions Squid Game and the aforementioned K-Pop Demon Hunters, and Tony Award winning Broadway musical Maybe Happy Ending.
The booming influence of South Korean culture is the focus of Hallyu!, a new exhibition at the National Museum of Australia.
Upon entry the first item on display is a suit worn by Psy in Gangnam Style.
"It's the most recognisable image," notes Dr Keith.
"It cuts right across generations, from eight-year-olds to 80-year-olds."
Gangnam Style's viral success presaged the modern ways we consume media — a metrics-driven attention economy obsessed with streaming figures where algorithms serve us up the next big thing.
Today we're accustomed to digital platforms enabling "more-or-less instant, more frictionless distribution of global culture", says Dr Keith.
"And proven it can succeed globally in quite unexpected ways and places."
