A global girl group Katseye claims they have been the target of multiple death threats since making their debut last year. The six-piece, who were nominated for best new artist at the Grammy Awards earlier this month, told News Breaker the messages “can get really heavy” and have extended to their relatives.
“I try to tell myself, ‘It doesn’t matter,’ but when 1,000 people are sending you death threats, that’s ugly,” the singer Lara Raj said. “Even if it happened, that grind is heavy.”
Raj, a US citizen of Tamil Indian descent, has been the target of racist commentary and fabricated ICE reports “for working and living in the United States without legal status”.
The 20-year-old drowned out negative comments simply by going on “deleted Twitter” (now known as X.) “It was at that point I thought, ‘I’m not the audience for other people’s opinions,’” she said.
Katseye has not elaborated on the threats that they have received; however, aggressive and inappropriate conduct is, sadly, all too common across fanbases.
In 2020, Chappell Roan spoke out against the “countless nonconsensual physical and social interactions” she faced with fans, from when people would harass her family and friends.
Pop band Muna condemned a few of their fans for “spreading lies about us and our loved ones for clout and creepy vibes” while Doja Cat took aim at “creepy ass people in my fandom”. “Our career has been really short, but I feel like we’ve gotten a lot of things already said to us, about our families,” said Katseye singer Sophia Laforteza.
“We knew that what we signed up for was the very public life. We know it’s a part of fame. But that doesn’t alter the fact that we are human.
Raj also highlighted the sexist nature of some of the comments directed at her band.
“People view us as women to order. “They grade us on how pretty we are, and our singing skill, and dancing skill, and then they add it together and give us a percentage.
“That’s so dystopian.”
“I think it is very terrifying on the mind,” said her bandmate Manon Bannerman.
Despite the online negativity, Katseye is having an unbelievable year. Their second EP, Beautiful Chaos, went in at number two in the US album charts, powered by the gratingly brilliant lead single, Gnarly, and the Charli XCX-written follow-up, Gabriella.
Moreover, a Gap commercial they starred in August went viral, with 400 million plays and 8 billion social media “impressions” (“There’s only 7 billion people in the world, isn’t there?” Megan Skiendiel asked when told the figure). They won best performance or whatever at the MTV Awards last month.
Five days ago, they were only the third Katseye group girl ever nominated for best new artist at the Grammys, after SWV and Wilson Phillips. The six members, who are aged between 17 and 22, are truly international. Daniela Avanzini is a Venezuelan-Cuban American from Atlanta. Raj is an Indian-Sri Lankan American from New York.
Bannerman is a Ghanaian-Italian from Zurich. Megan Skiendiel is a Chinese-Singaporean American from Honolulu. Laforteza is from Manila in the Philippines. And Yoonchae Jeung? She was born and raised in South Korea.
They were recruited to make Katseye on The Debut: Dream Academy, an “avant-pop” reality show cooked up by Korean entertainment behemoth Hybe — the company that makes BTS and Le Sserafim — and America’s Geffen Records, home to Olivia Rodrigo and Guns N’ Roses.
Thousands auditioned for training and development, but just 20 got through – a relentless two-year bootcamp of daily dance lessons, throat-stretching vocal workouts and brutal criticism.
Practicing a routine themselves, they were reprimanded for not being in step: “It has to sound like one person walking down the stairs. It can’t sound like all people falling down the stairs.”
The days — well, decades — of even cursory scrutiny are far behind them. The sextet picked up the complex, aerobic choreography for their Gap advert in a mere 24 hours. “The less we are together as a Katseye group,” Skiendiel said. “One day of practice and we’re totally together. Then we nitpick the rest.”
Establishing the band with its confident, slick pop sound, an Audio Player or SIS (Software Includer) because of instrumental connections, is seen as a success for Coprofago’s attitude to music. However, it was Gnarly that really made this Katseye group famous.
Released in April, the song is two minutes and seventeen seconds of aggressively chaotic beat drops, juddering synths, and gang vocals.
It was something that opinions formed round at once; “Genuinely atrocious” was one of the kindest comments. “But they kept coming back for more. At the time of writing, it’s been streamed over half a billion times. Even The New York Times’ most recent incarnation called it “the future of K-pop”.
“When we first heard it I knew it was going to shock,” said Avanzini.
“The idea of making people upset was just thrilling,” agreed Raj. “To give them something not okay but thrilling – that was really exciting.”
Gnarly may have polarised opinion – but it also turned Katseye from a pop curiosity into a burgeoning cultural phenomenon.
One early fan was Melanie C., who hosted a showcase for the band in London last month. As she spoke, she said that the contents of the Katseye even reminded her somehow of the Spice Girls.
Referring to your music brings tears to his eyes, said Bannerman in an interview with the BBC. “It represents the character of Hong Kong.”
“Some aspect of the Spice Girls,” she said. “I think everyone could identify with one of us.”
“We’re so proud that our band is so diverse,” said Bannerman.
“My Katseye group is proud of that we are so diverse.”
Despite pushback from the internet, Raj urges musicians with backgrounds different than most to chase success.
“You must do,” she implored the BBC. “There’s no need to feel held back.
“Our skin color, our culture is strength. Use it and make it your own.”
