Old School. Biblically Independent.
By Kayleigh Donaldson | Celebrity | November 12, 2026
The girl group KATSEYE is currently on a worldwide concert tour to promote their third EP in three years, Wild. It's their first arena tour and the first to leave North America. It's also the first time the group is performing on this scale without two of its members. Manon Bannerman is on hiatus from the band to "focus on her health and wellbeing", and Sophia Laforteza announced several months later that she would not be a part of the European shows for her own health reasons. Now, another member, Megan Skiendiel, is dealing with a concussion.
Rather than rest, she is currently sitting on the stage on a stool and wearing dark sunglasses, gently bopping back and forth while the remaining three performers dance for their lives. It makes for a curious and rather sad sight: a diminished band trying to keep the lights on while one of them is clearly struggling to go on. The press has tried to spin this as a positive, a sign of Megan's commitment to her fans that she'd put her health second to the show, but even the group's fans are calling out how uncomfortable this has become. "Spiritually, something about this feels deeply wrong," said one fan in the KATSEYE subreddit. "Free Katseye from this awful and exploiting company," added another. At what point, many wondered, is this just a violation of workers' rights?
You'd be forgiven for not knowing who KATSEYE are if you're over the age of 30. Founded as part of a reality TV series, The Debut: Dream Academy by Geffen Records and Hybe, KATSEYE was formed with the explicit intension to create a "worldwide" girl group in the mould of Korean pop stardom. The group, formed of six members aged between 18 and 24 as of the writing of this piece, launched in mid-2024 and immediately went to work becoming as omnipresent as possible. The amount of stuff they've done in only three years is eye-watering. Three EPs in as many years, two concert tours, 21 singles, endorsements with multiple brands including Lush, Gap, and Disney, and performances on places like Coachella, SNL and the 2026 Victoria's Secret Fashion Show.
The goal of KATSEYE, as envisioned by K-pop kingmakers Hybe and the American might of Geffen, is to create a commodity with worldwide appeal that is both in the mould of the classic girl group and of the modern always-be-hustling corporate entity. Their music varies, often wildly, to get a foothold in as any subgenres of pop as possible, like an endless trial balloon for a bigger launch. Each member has a distinct style and personality that encourages fans to latch onto one or several of them as their favourites (and they are more multicultural than the average band, which adds to the appeal.) They are young and malleable, ready to be whatever their fans or record label or marketing companies wish them to be. From a merchandising perspective--a key part of K-pop business--they are, well, catnip.
But from a music perspective? It's less intriguing. Cards on the table, I think KATSEYE are pretty awful in terms of their songs. "Gnarly" is embarrassing but it's also the Rosetta Stone of the group's entire ethos: just throw sh*t at the wall and see what sticks with the kids or the TikTok algorithm. Granted, I am 36 and am clearly not their target demographic but the reviews back me up on this. As Pitchfork put it in their write-up of Wild, the album "tries to crank up the moxie and chaos, but it can only paper over an inner emptiness."
The K-pop model of stardom is brutal in ways that harken back to the era of the Hollywood studio system. Actors were tied up in contracts that punished the at every turn for speaking out or disagreeing, professionally or personally. Their private lives were controlled by publicists, with their messes cleaned up by fixers or used against them to enforce obedience. The history of cinema is littered with stories of overworked and underpaid performers on studio-mandated uppers and downers, or actors who were forced to have abortions or hide their sexuality from their adoring fans.
K-pop conglomerates are brazen in their control of their singers, and the fans are often eager to participate in that cultural stranglehold, publicly bullying idols for having romantic partners or not being skinny enough for their tastes. You hear stories of K-pop singers keeling over from hunger and exhaustion and it's hard not to think of Judy Garland or Marilyn Monroe. How else are we supposed to think about literal kids signing up for these K-pop training camps, being worked to the bone before they're even old enough to drive, then being tied up in exploitative contracts wherein the men in suits take most of the profits? It's not exclusive to K-pop but the ruthless ways they have industrialized the system are notable for their cruelty.
KATSEYE are obviously not a K-pop group by literal definition but their creation, marketing, and sound is lifted directly from that model of celebrity. It is designed to evoke among fans the same sense of strident loyalty, and with the members the militaristic dedication to the grind of their Korean contemporaries. Yet they also want to veil themselves in thoroughly Gen-Z attitudes of self-care and female empowerment. It makes for a jarring conflict and fans are noticing it.
When Manon announced her hiatus, fans immediately called out how the sole Black member of the group was treated so shoddily. Others tried to claim she was lazy and ungrateful, but in hindsight, you can hardly blame her for not wanting to put up with these kinds of conditions. Sophia's hiatus was given more sympathetic write-ups, largely because she was candid about her need to prioritize her mental health. But you can't shroud your brand in mantras of wellness and therapy speak and then trot out a woman with a concussion to tolerate a barrage of flashing lights and claim it's a sign of perseverance. Even the most entitled of fans knows that the optics are bad here. Who wants to pay all that money for a concert and spend the entire time wondering if one of your idols is going to keel over from a brain injury?
The KATSEYE crisis is the most K-pop industry thing about them, and that sucks. The entire system needs a radical overhaul but remains too profitable for anyone to dare challenge it. Hybe and Geffen are counting on fans' loyalty to justify their mistreatment of these young women on the world's stage. Perhaps we should intervene before the inevitable "The Dark Side of KATSEYE" documentary in three or four years.
