I was never the biggest KRU fan growing up. I knew the songs— who didn’t in the '90s? —but it was my younger sisters who were fully immersed in the craze. I watched them light up at every beat, every lyric. KRU was different. A breath of fresh air. A group of young Malay men who dared to be bold, to create something new and to rise above the norms and expectations placed on them. They were brave, they were driven, and they carved out their own space when few believed they could. They were the epitome of trend setters. Through them, we had a Malaysian version to 'Kriss Kross'. Modern and so un-M.Nasir, Search and Wings (not that I didn’t like them; but you get me right?)
But then years went by; and life happened. Bit by bit the memory of the KRU grandeur slowly faded away quickly replaced by responsibilities, challenges and priorities. Soon they were no more than just a group of boys who for many years were the brunt of snide jokes made by my other half, to which I only reply with a sigh.
When my sister Rudi told me last year of 2024 she was taking us to the long-awaited concert of KRU as my birthday present, I was at most so happy at the rare treat and finding an opportunity to spend time with my princess sisters. Not much else. So, that night, stepping into that concert hall at Axiata Arena, surrounded by my sisters and so many others in our age group, I wasn’t expecting more than a night of nostalgia. I thought to myself: “ok. Here's to some embarrassing moments of my obsessed youngest sister as my future happy memory of us. And perhaps I shall dance a bit la.. see la.”
But boy, when they appeared on stage was I in for probably one of the biggest surprises of my life.
The concert was electric to say the least—the crowd buzzing, singing, swaying with decades of emotion. But what was also there was something even more powerful. Something magical happened in that space. Before long I was singing at the top of my lungs and dancing at every beat of the music without a single care in the world. In that moment, I felt a part of myself reawaken. Something I didn’t even realize I had quietly buried over the years—my spirit, my confidence, the clarity of who I am and what I value. Life can wear you down in slow, quiet ways. But that night, through familiar melodies and shared memories, I remembered the joy, the strength and the purpose I once held so clearly then it was unshakeable.
All of us, women in our 40s and 50s, reconnected with the young women we once were. We saw in KRU not just a band from our youth, but symbols of resilience and courage. Of being brave. Daring. And cared less for the world. We remembered who we were back then—so ready to take on the world. And through them, we felt that fire return.
It has been 25 days since the concert but not one day has passed without me listening to a tune or two from KRU, much to the dismay of my other half but course since he loves me, he knew did not have a choice but to tolerate.. LOL!! But then, I think deep inside, he also knows that something in me has reawakened.
The #genKRU night of Day 1 wasn’t just a concert. It was a reconnection. A shared moment of rebirth for all of us. A renaissance of the self, sparked by music, memory, and the unshakable power of spirit that refuses to be forgotten. All this while we the strong, gangster ladies of genX who wielded so much power; over the years have had to quietly yield to the later gens attitudes of ‘cepat koyak, manic-depressive, lembik’ as the standard norm of life. But that night, we reclaimed ourselves right back.
Never thought I’d say this but thank you KRU. It was through that concert, you guys and my sisters that I found back my spark that was long missing.
“KINI IRAMA BERTAKHTA, MEMBINA EMPAYAR
PROGRAM UTAMA UNTUK MENAKLUK DUNIA
TAK GENTAR DENGAN MISI WALAUPUN KONTROVERSI
AKU REAL MATI DARI HIDUP PENUH HIPOKRASI”
