Munan on Everything in Between: Songs for the Soft Unknown

The morning light falls across an unmade bed, the corners of a book still open from the night before. Somewhere in another room, water begins to boil. Dust dances in the air like it’s moving to a rhythm only the heart can hear. Everything in Between begins like this — not with a bang, but with a breath. It steps into the room quietly, like a thought you’d almost forgotten but suddenly need to feel again.

“For Munan, I’ve been making music mostly for others — the stories, the situation, the scene. I put myself in their shoes and think: what would I have done, or what would I have felt?” There’s a quiet sensitivity running through Munan’s work — a sense that behind the beats and textures is someone who listens before he speaks. The South Korean-Australian artist grew up between worlds, and maybe that’s why he writes so well about the spaces in between. Between youth and adulthood. Between chaos and clarity. Between staying and moving on.

His new EP, Everything in Between, gathers all of it — the late nights, the moments of doubt, the hazy joy of being young and not yet knowing. Over the course of seven songs, Munan blends groovy basslines with dreamy vocals and flickers of nostalgic memory. “I had a lot of thought about myself as not just a musician, but as a person,” he shares. “Like, what kind of person am I to someone else’s eyes?” There are traces of disco, rock, R&B, and synth-pop, but they don’t compete — they co-exist, like the layers of someone figuring out who they are. This is an album that drifts outside of time — untethered, honest, and destined to remain beautiful long into the future.

In our interview, we talk about the stories behind the songs — some his own, some borrowed from people he loves — and the slow, sometimes disorienting process of growing into yourself. Munan opens up about addiction and healing, about moving countries and starting over, and about what it means to finally make music for yourself. It’s a conversation about transformation, tenderness, and finding your way through the middle — the everything in between.

photography by Snow Jung / RAW FIGURES

I love this EP — it sounds fresh and gives me good feelings. Is that something you like to hear about it? (smiles)

Thank you! I’m glad that C-Heads found something that resonates with. I like to hear compliments like that. These songs aren’t just for me, but for everyone to find a piece that they like about.

Besides that, the EP also feels very personal. Was there a moment where you felt nervous about putting so much of yourself into it?

I did at first. But I think I found a way to put myself into it where it won’t make me embarassed. I ended up writing these songs with a mix of me and others in mind. That way, I think it’s easier for the audience to approach it.

You’ve said the songs were inspired by people you’ve met. What’s one thing someone said to you that stayed in your mind and became part of a lyric or mood?

The main themes of these songs revolved around interaction with other people. A lot of people around me are all maturing, getting old. We end up talking about how we used to be, and how it’s slowly changing and we can feel it around us. I also had a lot of thought about myself as not just a musician, but as a person. Like, what kind of person am I to someone else’s eyes?

“I had a lot of thought about myself as not just a musician, but as a person. Like, what kind of person am I to someone else’s eyes?”

Some songs on the EP also deal with themes of addiction, sobriety, and quiet resilience. Do you want to tell us more about that?

I’ve went through a lot of days of drinking, smoking, and going out until the sun came up. I had a lot of great memories, such as a bar called Stoked & Stoned which was an inspiration of my song of the same name. It was a place where we all gathered once a week. Then I realised this can’t last forever, as it will deterioate all of us. Even though it was great.
I think I’ve sobered up a lot since I started Munan. Being lost on what I was meant to do, I ended up being addicted to nicotine and alcohol. I wouldn’t I’m 100% sober, but I’m definitely living a healtheir life now!

Do you make music more for yourself, or for others to feel seen?

For Munan, I’ve been making it mostly for others; the stories, situation, and the scene. I put myself in their shoes and think what I would’ve done, or what would I have felt.
For my next songs (and possibly full album), I want to write about me. I’ve never done it before, but it’s going to be exciting to express myself and be more exposed to a larger audience than my friends.

“Just being yourself, enjoying the small and big things in life. Do what you love. Eat great food with friends. Travel the world.”

The title Everything in Between is so universal. What’s one “in-between” phase of life you’re still figuring out?

I think the journey is figuring it out! I don’t think I’ve got it all figured out, yet. If I would pin point one phase in my life, I would have to say moving to another country to figure out what I’m doing here, where do I go from here, and questioning myself how do I get back to where I’m from, which is Australia. I’m enjoying the journey. It’s hard being away from close friends and family. But then I realised I’ve made so many great friends and lovely people in Seoul, so I don’t want to lose that either.

How do you usually start a song — with lyrics, a melody, or a feeling?

Feeling. Then comes the lyrics, and then the melody or vice versa. It all depends on my mood that day. Sometimes it’s just a chord progression on the piano, or the guitar. It could be a bass line I’ve been jamming for hours. Or just really sick drums I’ve managed to pull out after hours of fidgeting.

The most important thing in life is?

Money.
I’m kidding.
Just being yourself, enjoying the small and bigs things in life. Do what you love. Eat great food with friends. Travel the world. And have the best time of your life on Earth.