We're so strongly connected, we're always thinking the same things.
From dormitories and dawn-to-dusk drills that one member called 'pure survival,' seven young Japanese women emerged not merely as performers but as a collective forged by shared endurance. XG — now headlining Coachella and embarking on a world tour — represents something the pop world rarely produces: a group whose bond was tempered by hardship and whose identity has been deliberately widened to embrace what once went unspoken. Their story is less about fame arriving than about what a person — and a sisterhood — must become before the world is ready to receive them.
- Children recruited at barely teenage years were pushed through six years of physically and emotionally punishing training, with instructors driving them to collapse and tears.
- Rather than fracturing under the pressure, the candidates forged an unexpected sisterhood — sleeping in shared dormitories, watching horror films together, becoming what one describes as real-life siblings.
- Their 2022 multilingual rap 'Galz Xypher' went viral with 49 million YouTube plays, and by 2025 they had become the only Japanese act on the Coachella stage.
- Member Cocona's public announcement of a transmasculine, non-binary identity — accompanied by photographs taken and styled by bandmates — sent ripples through the tightly controlled world of Japanese idol music.
- The band reframed their initials from 'Xtraordinary Girls' to 'Xtraordinary Genes,' centering their identity on breaking fixed preconceptions, a shift now embedded in their new album 'The Core.'
- As they prepare for a year-long world tour including Wembley Arena, the seven members still open every show the same way: joining hands in a circle and chanting the word for umbilical cord — a ritual that has transformed survival into something resembling hope.
Before every performance, the seven members of XG form a circle, join hands, and chant a word that means umbilical cord. It is a ritual born from the hardest years of their lives.
Recruited from thousands of applicants across Japan in 2016, some barely teenagers, the members spent six years in dormitories moving through dawn-to-dusk schedules of singing, dancing, and language instruction. Instructors pushed them past physical limits — squats until collapse, tears streaming — and one told them bluntly that respect would never come from this kind of work. Yet something unexpected grew in the grinding repetition. When candidates were finally divided into teams, a sisterhood emerged. They began to move together, think together, and become, as one member puts it, real-life siblings.
By 2022, XG had begun announcing themselves to the world. Their track 'Galz Xypher' — a multilingual rap sampling Aretha Franklin and Rosalía — went viral, accumulating 49 million YouTube plays. Three years later, they became the only Japanese act on the Coachella lineup.
As their trajectory climbed, the youngest member, Cocona, was navigating a more private transformation. In a statement nearly unheard of in the controlled world of Japanese idol music, Cocona announced identifying as transmasculine and non-binary — accompanied by photographs taken by bandmate Jurin and styled by Chisa. The fan response was an outpouring of acceptance, and crucially, so was the band's own — immediate, unqualified.
The moment reshaped XG's identity at its core. Their initials, once standing for 'Xtraordinary Girls,' were reframed as 'Xtraordinary Genes.' Their new album, 'The Core,' reflects the evolution — moving from throwback R&B toward ballroom beats, house piano, and a rock track fans have read as a declaration of solidarity with Cocona.
The seven members — Maya, Juria, Hinata, Harvey, Cocona, Chisa, and Jurin — confer in huddles before answering questions, moving as a single organism while remaining visibly distinct. Before their first UK show at Wembley Arena this September, they will do what they have always done: form that circle, join hands, and shout their umbilical cord into the air.
Seven young women in neon and faux fur stand in a circle before each performance, hands joined, and chant a word that means umbilical cord. It is their ritual, their tether to one another—a bond forged not in friendship but in something closer to survival.
XG's members were plucked from thousands of applicants across Japan in 2016, some barely into their teenage years. What followed was six years of training that the band now describes with the kind of language usually reserved for endurance tests: pure survival, a battle against oneself. They lived in dormitories and moved through dawn-to-dusk schedules of singing, dancing, and language instruction. Tutors pushed them past physical limits—squats until collapse, tears streaming down their faces. One instructor told them bluntly that respect would never come from this kind of work. Yet something unexpected happened in the grinding repetition. When the candidates were finally divided into teams, a sisterhood emerged. They began to move together, think together, huddle under blankets watching horror films, becoming what one member describes as real-life siblings.
By 2022, XG had begun to announce themselves to the world. Their track Galz Xypher arrived like a statement of intent—a multilingual rap that sampled Aretha Franklin and Rosalía, delivered by four members trading bars over a hip-hop beat that felt both rooted and restless. The song went viral. It accumulated 49 million plays on YouTube and spawned thousands of reaction videos. Three years later, XG became the only Japanese act on the Coachella lineup, a milestone that still moves them when they watch the footage back.
But as the band's trajectory climbed, one member was navigating a more private transformation. Cocona, the youngest, had been carrying something unspoken for years. In a statement that was nearly unheard of in the controlled world of Japanese idol music, they announced that the female identity they were born into had never truly represented who they were. They identified as transmasculine and non-binary. The announcement came with photographs—some showing the scars from top surgery—taken by bandmate Jurin and styled by Chisa. The response from fans was an outpouring of acceptance. More significantly, it came from within the band itself, without hesitation or qualification.
That moment shifted something fundamental about XG's identity. The band's initials, which had stood for Xtraordinary Girls, were reframed to mean Xtraordinary Genes—a deliberate signal that the group's message was now explicitly about being yourself as you are. Breaking fixed ideas and preconceptions became not a side note but the center of their concept. Their new album, The Core, reflects this evolution. They moved away from the throwback R&B of earlier work toward something more expansive: a Vogue-inspired ballroom beat on one track, a house piano sampled from CeCe Peniston on another, and a rock song called O.R.B that pairs squealing guitars with what fans have read as a declaration of solidarity with Cocona.
The seven members—Maya, Juria, Hinata, Harvey, Cocona, Chisa, and Jurin—each bring their own texture to the group. One wears a necklace that reads rock star. Another rattles with bangles as she walks. They confer in huddles before answering questions, appointing a spokesperson, moving as a single organism even as each one remains visibly distinct. They have learned to hold on to themselves while holding on to each other. Before their first UK show at Wembley Arena this September, part of a year-long world tour, they will continue to do what they have always done: form that circle, join hands, and shout their umbilical cord into the air. It is a ritual born from the hardest years of their lives, transformed into something that means hope.
Notable Quotes
It was the toughest and most difficult experience I've ever had. A battle against myself physically and mentally.— Maya, reflecting on the training period
I was born and perceived as female, but that label never represented who I truly am. The hardest thing I've ever faced was accepting and embracing myself.— Cocona, in their public announcement about their gender identity
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
When you say the training was 'pure survival,' what does that actually mean? What were they surviving?
They were surviving the gap between who they were and who the system demanded they become. Children, really—some only eleven or twelve—living away from home, pushed through physical and emotional limits they didn't know they had. The instructors were explicit: this won't earn you respect. It was designed to break something and rebuild it.
But they speak about it with gratitude now. How does that happen? How do you transform brutality into belonging?
Because the brutality wasn't random. It was shared. When you suffer alongside someone, when you're both crying under the same blanket watching a scary movie afterward, something bonds that goes deeper than friendship. They became siblings through it.
And then Cocona comes out as transmasculine. In J-pop, that's almost unthinkable. Why did the band respond the way they did?
Because by that point, they'd already learned that survival means accepting each other completely. Jurin took the photos. Chisa did the makeup. There was no hesitation because they'd already chosen each other over everything else.
The rebranding from 'Xtraordinary Girls' to 'Xtraordinary Genes'—that feels like it could be performative. A marketing move.
Maybe. But they changed their entire album concept to match it. They moved away from safe throwback sounds toward something messier, more expansive. They're not just saying it's okay to be yourself—they're making music that sounds like what that actually means.
What do they do to stay connected now, when the demands are only getting bigger?
The same things they've always done. They watch anime together. One of them still carries around a trombone mouthpiece from junior high, hoping to play it with the band someday. They've learned that the on/off switch matters—that you can't survive together if you don't also know how to rest together.