In a K-pop landscape where “boundary-pushing” often feels more aesthetic than ideological, rising newcomers XLOV are genuinely doing something different — and they’re doing it in midriff tops, squared-off nails, and choreography that swerves between high fashion and high heat. Composed of WUMUTI, RUI, HYUN, and HARU, the group’s latest single “1&Only” may be laidback in tempo, but its implications are anything but quiet.

Released during Pride Month no less, the track arrives not just as a seasonal single but as a statement of intent. XLOV, who debuted earlier this year with “I’mma Be” and a concept that outrightly challenges gender norms, have positioned themselves as one of the few (if not the only) boy groups dismantling the traditional “idol masculinity” playbook with groove, glamour, and grit.

From the start, XLOV haven’t just flirted with gender ambiguity but have built it into their identity. Billed as a group actively embracing gender fluidity, their visuals, lyrics, and stage presence consistently reject the rigidity of traditional idol masculinity. Rather than softening masculinity or aestheticising femininity, XLOV proposes something more radical: a third space, where glam and self-expression coexist without boundaries.

While men in K-pop have long played with androgyny — from eyelinered visuals to soft-boy serenades — few groups have embraced gender fluidity as a full-bodied artistic ethos the way XLOV is. XLOV doesn't just flirt with the aesthetic, but inhabit it. In that sense, XLOV occupies a rarer space that refuses to conform to usual binaries and instead embraces consistent fluidity as strength.

“1&Only” leans into a hypnotic, sinuous groove built on a breezy rhythmic loop that never quite resolves. Drawing loosely from Afrobeats’ rolling pulse, it strips away the genre’s usual climax-driven structure in favour of something smoother, more circular. The track feels like velvet under skin on a humid summer night; smooth, warm, and effortlessly intoxicating.

The instrumental barely shifts between verse and chorus, creating a sense of movement that mirrors body rhythm more than pop formula — much like how XLOV themselves defy tidy classification.

The vocals become part of the beat itself, circling the groove with warmth and agility. HARU’s “Move to the rhythm / Move your feet to the rhythm” doesn’t command action so much as describe the music’s own behaviour. This blurs boundaries between language and movement, verbal and physical expression — a fitting metaphor for XLOV’s holistic approach to dismantling rigid identity constructs through every facet of their artistry.

Though relaxed in sound, the song’s lyrics carry subtle but powerful statements. The chorus chant, “only, only / I’m tryna be your one and only,” functions as a mantra — simple, intimate, and hypnotic — buoyed by the track’s syncopated snap and heat-soaked melody.

The post-chorus, “Give me energy / Bombs and away,” might seem minimalistic on paper, but it lands like release, echoing both the physicality of the choreography and the emotional liberation the track hints at.

The lyrics blend romantic urgency with gender-inclusive energy, using playful language and rhythmic commands to create a vibe that’s both sensual and liberating. While not explicitly political, their fluidity in pronouns and terms makes “1&Only” a subtle anthem for queer listeners.

“I’ma give it to you straight.” The irony of that line, coming from a queer-coded group like XLOV, is almost too good. Sung by WUMUTI and later HYUN, it reads less as literal honesty and more as a subversion of heteronormative expectation — bending the rules through language as much as sound. In XLOV’s world, even the language plays dress-up.

Mostly sung in English, the lyrics are casual, flirtatious, and wrapped in motion. RUI’s “float away, so high up in the clouds / We’re in the clouds now…” mirrors the music’s weightlessness. That point is underscored in the second verse, where WUMUTI and HARU mix Spanish, Korean, and English — “Call me Papi Chulo, Mamacita / Mixing you up like I’m serving margaritas.” It’s more than just cosmopolitan flirtation: the lyric casually slides between gendered terms, disrupting expectation with charm. In the world XLOV are building, gender is less a fixed trait than a flavour — something you mix, stir, and serve with confidence.

Rather than dramatizing longing or heartbreak, XLOV offers something more relaxed: a summer seduction that doesn’t need to shout to be heard. As they sing in the bridge: “We keep turning up this party / Like it’s a Friday night,” the song rides that high without ever coming down.

The music video makes its mission clear from the jump. A sassy poster flashes by: “Sick of the same old crap? It’s your choice! Leave them behind. Get your freedom back.” WUMUTI is the one who interacts with it, tearing off a rose-covered section with his diamond-studded nails in a symbolic gesture. It casts him — the band’s oldest member — as a kind of ringleader in XLOV’s pop rebellion. His interaction collapses the boundary between idol and audience: he’s not just in the world the poster describes, he’s helping to build one beyond it. The act of physically dismantling the “same old crap” becomes a radical gesture that aligns perfectly with the track’s ethos of fluidity, liberation, and glam defiance.

Elsewhere, the camera cuts between fast-paced body rolls and cheeky candy props — including lollipops with tiny candy men clinging to them. RUI’s moment leaning into a male mannequin’s lipstick-marked face in a sepia-toned room feels half pop fantasy, half surrealist tableau. It’s camp, yes, but also deeply subversive. These visual choices flirt with kitsch and queerness at once, using pop surrealism as a tool of liberation.

These choices echo a lineage of queer pop icons — from Grace Jones’s theatrical edge to RuPaul’s runway glamour — situating XLOV as heirs to artists who turned subversion into spectacle. The glamour here isn’t just aesthetic, but assertion.

Crucially, the band’s styling discards any binary cues. Midriff tops, slicked-back hair, and gothic long squared-oval nails don’t code as masculine or feminine — they flaunt the irrelevance of either. The group doesn’t just wear these aesthetics — they own them. This styling is a deliberate assertion of self, a visible refusal to conform dressed up in razor-sharp polish.

Rather than softening their visuals to appear “androgynous,” XLOV lean in — sensual, knowing, and unbothered. In doing so, they reframe who gets to own the stage with this kind of attitude.

Choreographically, XLOV meaningfully raise the stakes from their debut “I’mma Be.” RUI’s front cartwheel into a flip while singing bursts with fluid showmanship, perfectly matching the track’s mantra-like “give me energy” post-chorus.

Elsewhere, the group moves like a live current: a ripple of body rolls passed between members in a roll-off that makes the chorus feel physical and immediate. Their movement borrows just as much from femme-coded performance as it does from standard boy group choreography; hip rolls, wrist flicks, catwalk angles. There’s nothing ironic about it, either. It’s confident, embodied gender play, and in that sense, their performance energy sits somewhere between club stage and drag runway — polished, precise, and full of personality.

“1&Only” might be XLOV’s second major release, but they already feel like outliers in the best way. They are building a world that feels glossier, more intimate, and frankly more queer — whether explicitly or atmospherically.

It’s easy to exaggerate novelty in pop, but in XLOV’s case, it doesn’t feel like hype. Fans often claim their favourite artists are doing things “that have never been done before.” In XLOV’s case, that doesn’t feel delusional or marketing filler — it feels earned.

In a sea of acts that tiptoe around radicalism, XLOV dive in headfirst, not as a trend but as a movement. They aren’t just reshaping K-pop’s gender landscape; they’re dissolving it entirely — with rhythm, rebellion, and relentless style.