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Zoo’s “At the City Hall Subway Station” (1990): Title Track of the 3rd Album and Kim Chang-gi’s Urban Memoir

Zoo’s 1990 title track “At the City Hall Subway Station”: verified credits, release facts, 2020 OST remake, and focused listening notes in one guide.

Introduction

Released in the summer of 1990 as the opener to Zoo’s 3rd LP Third Song Collection, “At the City Hall Subway Station” is a spare, story-driven folk song that captures an awkward, tender reunion in the rush of downtown Seoul. The melody moves at walking pace; the vocal sits conversationally above a lightly arranged band; and a single image—“the shining fruit” of a promise—carries the lyric’s emotional weight. The track was the album’s official title piece on first issue and has remained a signature, reentering the wider conversation in 2020 through a prominent remake for the drama Hospital Playlist. Below is a consolidated brief: core credits, verifiable release data, why the song resurfaced, and how to listen so its details land. 

Zoo’s “At the City Hall Subway Station” 


At a glance

FieldDetail
Track“At the City Hall Subway Station”
ArtistZoo (동물원)
Album / ReleaseThird Song Collection — July 1, 1990
Label / CatalogYeh Eum Records, YERD-7010 (original LP)
CreditsLyrics & Music: Kim Chang-gi; Arrangement: Zoo & Cho Dong-ik
Title trackYes (album’s official title)
Runtime (original)5:45
Reappraisal2020 remake by Kwak Jin-eon for Hospital Playlist (Pt. 6)
Notes: Release date and title status are confirmed by album databases; LP label/cat. are verified on Discogs and Korean LP catalogs; credits and arrangement are documented in the Kim Chang-gi archive; runtime is consistent across major streaming listings. 

Key lines, unpacked

  • A chance meeting “at City Hall station” becomes a freeze-frame in the crowd—urban noise around a suddenly private moment.

  • The reveal that she is “a mother of two” sets a courteous distance: time has continued, and the past has acquired manners.

  • The promise to “show the shining fruit” is youthful bravado now tempered by reality—a gentle accounting of what became of “us.”
    (Paraphrases are provided to avoid long lyric quotations.)

What the song says

The etiquette of reunion

They fill the silence with weather talk and life updates, navigating politeness while swallowing what can’t be said. The song notices the micro-beats—the half-breath after calling a name, the apologetic laugh after stepping on a stranger’s foot—making ordinary gestures feel cinematic.

Promises, then and now

“Shining fruit” functions as a compact metaphor for future success and proof of becoming. Decades later, neither triumph nor failure needs spelling out; the promise itself is the artifact, warm to the touch even if unfulfilled.

A private monologue in public space

As her silhouette disappears into the commuter flow, the station’s roar recedes into interior quiet. The city becomes a backdrop to inner time—a paradox the arrangement underlines by staying airy and unintrusive. (See archive note on the arrangement by Cho Dong-ik with Zoo.) 

Behind the song & fact-check

  • Album & date. The track opens Zoo’s 3rd album Third Song Collection, released July 1, 1990 in Korea. It is listed and recognized as the album’s title track. 

  • Label & catalog. First pressing on Yeh Eum Records (YERD-7010); multiple discographic entries and LP catalogs confirm the issuer and number.

  • Credits & session texture. Lyrics/music by Kim Chang-gi; arrangement by Zoo & Cho Dong-ik. Archive materials detail broader acoustic-guitar participation by scene peers, sketching the collaborative texture around the band. 

  • Runtime & streaming alignment. The original studio version runs 5:45 on Bugs and other platforms, matching widely circulated metadata. 

  • Digital reissues. Later digital distribution credits appear under Chemical Records/Danal in some regions, reflecting catalog management rather than a content change. 

  • 2020 remake for TV. Kwak Jin-eon reinterprets the song as Hospital Playlist OST Part 6, released April 17, 2020, issued as a two-track single (main + instrumental)

Why it still resonates (2020s ears)

  1. Narrative folk clarity. Scene-by-scene sequencing—reunion → small talk → parting—invites first-time listeners straight into the frame.

  2. Unshowy vocal. Kim Chang-gi’s spoken-song phrasing keeps emotion grounded, resisting melodrama.

  3. Arranged restraint. Acoustic-led band writing, with Cho Dong-ik’s minimalism, leaves air for memory to seep in.

  4. Place as memory trigger. “City Hall (station)” is specific enough to feel lived-in, universal enough to stand for any commuter city.

  5. OST relay. The 2020 version bridged generations; many discovered the original by way of the drama’s time-spanning friendships. 

Listening pointers

  • Intro: Focus on the guitar strum and the singer’s breath before the first line—the story steps onto the platform right there.

  • Verse pause: Notice the tiny hesitation after the name is called; it’s awe and awkwardness in a comma.

  • Motivic repetition over “big chorus.” The song accrues feeling through recurring images (subway, crowd, promise) rather than a belted refrain.

  • Outro humming (“la-la-la”). Turn the volume up slightly; the unworded coda leaves space for what the characters didn’t say.

Summary

“At the City Hall Subway Station” is the title track of Zoo’s 3rd album, released July 1, 1990 on Yeh Eum Records, written and sung by Kim Chang-gi, arranged with Cho Dong-ik, and logged at 5:45 in its canonical studio take. Its 2020 Kwak Jin-eon remake for Hospital Playlist (two-track single) renewed the song’s reach without blurring the original’s documentary calm.

FAQ

Q1. Is this officially the album’s title track?
Yes. Period sources and curated archives list it as the title track for Zoo’s Third Song Collection

Q2. What’s the verified runtime of the original?
5:45 on the 1990 studio recording, as shown on Bugs and aligned metadata. 

Q3. What exactly came out in 2020?
Hospital Playlist OST Part 6, released April 17, 2020, includes the main track and an instrumental; streaming pages display both. 

Closing

This song lights the narrow space between youthful promises and adult courtesy—with Seoul’s busiest concourse as its quietest confessional. Which moment hits you hardest—the first name called, the small-talk smile, or the wordless hum at the end? Share your one-line memory in the comments.