“Corecore” TikTok Content: What’s It All About?

Older people often shake their heads when trying to understand some of the terms commonly used by TikTok users, but most Gen A, Gen Z, and millennials don’t see anything unusual about the words like “mid,” “rizz”, “sus,” “gyatt,” or sigma” that they use in their TikTok videos.

The picture is somewhat similar when it comes to communities and genres on the social media platform: some are easy to decipher, while others may seem undecipherable.

Many communities are often identified by the name of the interest followed by “Tok,” so there are CookingTok, FoodTok, CleanTok (cleaning hints and tips), and many more. Those are fairly obvious, but there’s also CrocTok (devoted to the shoes, not the reptiles), TwilightTok (fans of the “Twilight books” and movies, and FurryTok (yes, it focuses on what you think it does).

And then there’s “-core,” a suffix that stems from the hardcore punk culture but is used on TikTok to describe various vibes or “aesthetics.” There’s “weirdcore” (focusing on odd, amateur photography), “cottagecore” (romanticizing rural living), “dreamcore” (featuring dreamy scenarios), and even Barbiecore (self-explanatory, we’d hope).

Contributions to “core” communities may sometimes be somewhat tongue-in-cheek, but a newer one makes fun of all the other groups, at least in some users’ eyes. Corecore evolved as a reaction to all of the “-core” videos across the platform.

What Is Corecore on TikTok?

“-core” videos are often fast-paced, highly-edited photo and video montages. In early 2021, the first “corecore” videos arrived on TikTok, taking the style to a higher level. Many were aimed at delivering specific anti-establishment messages. The genre quickly evolved, however, and today’s corecore TikTok content primarily generates emotions and feelings rather than thoughts.

What type of feelings? Most corecore TikTok posts evoke frustration, loneliness, hopelessness, and chaos by their seemingly-random choices of imagery and sound. They’re viewed by many as a commentary on a culture overwhelmed with narcissism, short videos, consumerism, and the frustration of modern life.

They can contain virtually any type of photos and videos, though, with quick cuts from apocalyptic scenes to right-wing talking heads, fast switches from doomsday movie clips to bleak landscapes, or anything else that moves the content creator. They’re often backed by soundtracks ranging from rap to somber, instrumental music.

In short, there’s no way to adequately describe corecore videos, since they present the often-depressing views of widely disparate (and often depressed) users. The style has earned a wide variety of opinions from critics, ranging from a new art form and a deft way to capture feelings, to self-indulgent and meaningless.

The most interesting commentary on corecore, from writer Rhea Nayyar of Hyperallergic, said it was similar to a “first project in Adobe Premiere…presented with the societal dread induced from doom-scrolling on one’s phone at 2 am after too many bong hits on a weeknight…but a manner of expressing one’s frustrations with the world that seems to strike a chord…”

Corecore certainly has struck a chord on TikTok, as the #corecore hashtag alone has received well over two billion views on the app. What will corecore videos look like to you, and what feelings will they induce? There’s no way to predict; you’ll have to check them out to see (and feel) for yourself.