Heize just might surprise you. Whatever image you have in your head of "the K-pop idol", you'd do well to do away with it now. A self-made star on the rise, real Jang Da-hye hustled her way on to a leading Korean music competition show Unpretty Rapstar in its second season, proving herself a deft rapper. Nonetheless, it was but a stepping stone, boosting herself on her path to her real passion: the moody R&B vibes she's largely presented in her own work.

With no interest in the squeaky clean, perfected K-pop machine, Heize (헤이즈 in her native tongue, we should note) is not bringing you group-tank, carefully ready-made hits. She's heavily involved in every aspect of her music, writing her own songs, contributing to composition, and has a hand in production - a virtuoso in the rough.

Last year's /// (also known as You, Clouds, Rain), was her most ambitious project to date, using rainfall as a representation of a deteriorating relationship. It may not have blown up the Korean charts: confronting depression isn't exactly sunny pop fare, after all, but it rapidly established her as a voice that counts in the Korean sphere, with some of her individual songs outperforming the mini-album itself.

Arriving less than a year later, Wind (or 바람) immediately establishes itself as a (pun intended) breezier outing. Again working with compatriot Davii, who composed /// interlude 'Rainin' with You', the pair largely split composition, while Davii arranges the tracks, and Heize, naturally, handles all lyrical duties.

Compared to the relative gloom of her last outing, Heize feels practically playful here. While much of the music on Wind still finds her contending with disappointing lovers, lead single 'Jenga' finds her in the position of power, openly telling a partner she's grown tired of their "game". She saves the best for last, with 'Mianhae' (meaning Sorry) boasting an amusingly sassy, upbeat romp through a biting half-apology. '내가 더 나빠' ('Didn't Know Me'), meanwhile, proves itself one of the strongest pop ballads she's yet crafted, soft strings falling into a gently grand chorus that practically soars in its lonely desperation.

For those hoping for a distinct change in Heize's approach this time around, Wind may feel like a bit of a retread, but with the grind of the K-pop industry almost necessitating yearly returns, one can't blame Da-hye for lingering in an emotional place. As it stands, this outing presents another strong representation of Heize the artist, and, hey, maybe the sun will come out tomorrow. Wind might just be the draft she needs to push herself there.