The World of Chinese, 2012, Issue 4: Music

2012 ISSUE 4 BI-MONTHLY 2012年 第4期 总第35期／双月刊

From red songs to rock sages, we keep time with all things China music

china rocks ¥ 19.00 USD 7.00

刊名题字 许嘉璐

Inscription for The World of Chinese by Xu Jialu 声明：本刊内容未经书面许可，不得使用。本刊内容的电子版、 网络版和其他语种的版权视同一并授予本刊所有。

All Rights Reserved. No part of the contents herein should be republished without the prior written consent of The World of Chinese. The electronic and online versions of infomation in this magazine and copyrights in other languages are the intellectual property of The World of Chinese.

ISSN 1673 - 7660 CN11 - 5509 / H

DIRECTED BY 主管： PUBLISHED BY 主办： PRODUCED BY 编辑出版： CONSULTANTS 顾问： PRODUCTION SUPERVISOR 总监制： PUBLISHER 社长： PUBLISHING DIRECTOR 执行社长： EXECUTIVE PUBLISHER 常务副社长： CHIEF EDITOR 主编： MANAGING EDITOR 编辑主任： BOARD DIRECTOR 编委主任： BOARD MEMBERS 编委：

EDITORS / CORRESPONDENTS 编辑/记者：

ART DIRECTOR 艺术总监： EDITOR/GRAPHIC DESIGNER 编辑/美术设计： ILLUSTRATOR 插画： WEB DIRECTOR 网站总监： DISTRIBUTION 发行部： ADVERTISING 广告部： INTERNS 实习生： PROOFREADERS 责任校对： PRINTER 印刷： OFFICE ADDRESS 社址：

FAX 传真： EDITORIAL TEL 编辑部电话： EDITORIAL E-MAIL 编辑部电子邮箱： ADVERTISING TEL 广告部电话： ADVERTISING E-MAIL 广告部电子邮箱： SUBSCRIPTION TEL 发行部电话： SUBSCRIPTION E-MAIL 发行部电子邮箱： WEBSITE 网址： NATIONAL SERIAL CODE 国内邮发代号： OVERSEAS DISTRIBUTOR 国外发行： OVERSEAS CODE 国外代号： AD PERMIT 广告许可证：

China Publishing Group 中国出版集团公司 The Commercial Press Co., Ltd. 商务印书馆有限公司 The World of Chinese Magazine Co., Ltd. 《汉语世界》杂志社有限责任公司 Xu Jialu 许嘉璐, Tang Wensheng 唐闻生, Xu Lin 许琳, Joel Bellassen (France) 白乐桑 (法) Yu Dianli 于殿利 Zhou Hongbo 周洪波 Lillian Chen 陈丽英 Wen Xuechun 文学春 Cao Quan 草荃 David Green (UK) 武剑 (英) Jun Liu (USA) 刘骏 (美) Ping Chen (AU) 陈平 (澳), Chu Chengzhi (USA) 储诚志 (美), Yuan Boping (UK) 袁博平 (英), Goh Yeng-Seng (SG) 吴英成 (新加坡), Wang Tao 王涛, Li Yuming 李宇明, Zhu Xiaojian 朱小健, Wang Jianqin 王建勤, Zhu Ruiping 朱瑞平, Zhang Hesheng 张和生, Zhou Hongbo 周洪波, Cao Quan 草荃 Ginger Huang 黄原竟, Elizabeth Tung (USA) 董怡 (美), Chu Dandan 储丹丹, Zhu Beijing 朱蓓静, Caroline Killmer (USA) (美) Liu Ling 刘凌 Jessica Rapp (USA) 阮洁茜 (美) Huang Shuo 黄硕 Keoni Everington (USA) 华武杰 (美) Hong Jie 洪洁, Juliette Boa 鲍迪，Travis Li 李宁飞 Hu Jiping 胡继萍 Joe Doran (UK), Matt Sheehan (USA)马特(美), Emma Nichols (UK), Julija Veljkovic (RS) Yu Libin 于立滨, Zhao Yuhong 赵育红 Beijing Hualian Printing Co., Ltd. 北京华联印刷有限公司 1508 / 1509 Jiahui International Center, 14 Jiqingli, Chaowai Street, Beijing 100020, China 中国北京朝外大街吉庆里14号佳汇国际中心 1508 /1509 (邮编100020) +86-10-65523101 +86-10-65523106 65523100x836 editor@theworldofchinese.com (北京) +86-10-65523108 / 65523100x801 (上海) +86-21-63355115 advertising@theworldofchinese.com (北京) +86-10-65523109 (上海) +86-21-63355115 subscriptions@theworldofchinese.com www.theworldofchinese.com 80 - 570 China International Books Trading Corporation 中国国际图书贸易总公司 BM4956 BAIC DBB Ad. No. 0040 京东工商广字第0040号

WHERE TO BUY BEIJING • April Gourmet • Beijing Friendship Supermarket • Beijing Language and Culture University Bookstore • Bookworm • Foreign Language Bookstore in Wangfujing • Foreign Language Bookstore in Lufthansa Center • Friendship Store • Hanfenlou Bookstore • Hutong School • International Bookstore in International Culture Building • Jisi-HuiYuan Bookstore • Lion Mart • Peking University Bookstore • The Hutong • Salud • Modernista • Starfish • The Bridge Cafe

SHANGHAI • Bookazine • Cityshop

INTERNATIONAL AND DOMESTIC SUBSCRIPTIONS

Email: mail@theworldofchinese.com

Co-producer: Beijing Center for the Promotion of Chinese Overseas 协办：北京汉语国际推广中心

4/2012

26

COVER STORY

STREET DREAMERS

P TS ( h i p

hop)

街头的梦想

Photographs

by

Caroline Killmer

and courtesy of

We tap the story of how "Xidan Girl" Ren Yueli went from Beijing underpass to CCTV fame, and meet some of the musicians still singing, playing and dreaming on China's streets

COVER STORY

42 ROCK’S RENAISSANCE MAN 采访北京地下摇滚掌门人杨海崧 From Rotten Generation dropout to P.K.14 frontman, inspirational mentor and producer Yang Haisong tells us his story

Issue 4 /2012

COVER STORY

38 HIP-HOP'S NEW NATIVE TONGUES 嘻哈乐的新语言 Inner Mongolian rap group Partisan are striving to preserve their heritage through a non-native musical form

3

30 YEARS

50

LISTENING TO MUSIC 听音乐三十年

How music beat Cultural Revolutionary doldrums, took refuge in pirate tapes and spread its wings on the Web

73

听红歌，说歌词

EVOLUTION ROCK

Red songs have been bringing strangers together in parks for decades

Musician, producer and photographer Wang Di leads us on a stunning visual journey charting the rise of Chinese rock

SOCIAL CHINESE

MARCHING TO A RED DRUM BEAT

4

KALEIDOSCOPE

18

中国摇滚的成长

85

56

CHI LE MA OU, OU, IT'S MAGIC

ON THE ROAD JAMMING IN GUANGZHOU

酸辣藕片

在广州，我找不着调

Tame your temper tantrums with the spicy, soothing goodness of this funky-looking root vegetable

A dubious commission takes a mishmash group of musicians on a journey through labyrinthine markets and offbeat venues

1 EDITOR’S LETTER 卷首语

6 NEWS 新闻

8 THE HARD SEAT 多棱镜

9 STRANGE BUT TRUE 趣闻

13 STREET TALK Fotoe (Radio Listeners)

街头俚语

14 DON’T MISS 不可错过

)

and

17 MADE IN CHINA 90 ON THE CHARACTER 魅力汉字

64

CITY STROLL

TWO DAYS IN BEIJING 北京摇滚两日行

by

Wang Di (Young Punks), Caroline Killmer (Food & Record

store

中国制造

Photographs

Work up a sweat delving into the shops, eateries and clubs owned by trailblazing musicians in China’s rock capital

78

AUDIO-VISUAL WORLD FOLLOW FOLLOW 《乐队》 Local musicians and a reanimated Kurt Cobain shine a spotlight on Beijing’s indie subculture

Issue 4 /2012

92 PIONEER 对话先锋

94 ADVENTURES IN CHINESE 我学我行

96 THE GEEK CORNER 高手学堂

WANT MORE LIKE THIS? You can find more written, visual and audio content on our newly revamped website, www.theworldofchinese. com, which is updated daily with recipes, travel tales, language lessons and more!

5

封面 故事

Photographs

by

Xiao Yuan

C O V ER S T ORY

42

ROCK'S

RENAISSANCE

MAN B Y L I Z T U N G ( 董怡)

Caroline Killmer

A n i n t e r v i e w w i t h P. K . 1 4 f ro n t m an Yan g H ai so n g : t he u n de r g ro u n d ’s m o st i m po rt a n t si n g e r, m e n t o r, po e t an d pro du c e r

Photograph

by

杨海崧—中国地下摇滚的歌 手、制作人和导师 Issue 4 /2012

43

44

by

two feet above the next highest contender. “That’s Haisong’s best kick.” We stared at the footprint in awe. “How’d you kick that high?” we asked. Yang laughed and turned away. “I don’t know, really,” he said, shrugging. This is classic Yang Haisong—he seems all normal, and then before you know it he’s landing footprints 10 feet up a wall… or, you know, becoming the most influential musician of his generation.

Between listening sessions in the studio, I sat down with Yang to discuss his childhood, his 15-year career in rock, and how he started his career in producing and mentoring up-and-coming bands.

Photograph

Birdstriking, making him one of the rare artists among his generation to have become an active mentor and supporter for new musical upstarts.

When we met, he was recording Alpine Decline, a husband-wife duo from Los Angeles who recently moved to Beijing. We stopped outside the door to Yang’s studio, pausing in the grungy, fluorescent-lit hallway to stare for a moment at the wall, which was covered in footprints.

“Every day at four we have the wall-kicking contest,” said singer Jonathan Zeitlin. He took a sip of baijiu and directed us to a point about 10 feet up the wall, where a giant footprint presided at least

Caroline Killmer

T

here are two sides to Yang Haisong (杨海崧), frontman of the legendary indiepostpunk outfit P.K.14. First is the side people see onstage— the kicking, howling rock poet, a lanky, funky, fluid Ian Curtis who convulses across the stage like some epileptic visionary. This is the Yang Haisong who, since starting his band in Nanjing at the tail end of the ’90s rock explosion, has arguably become one of the most important musical figures in the Chinese underground.

And then there is the Yang Haisong who came to meet us outside his studio on the fringes of Beijing on an early summer’s day—a soft-spoken, quietly intense figure who somehow manages to look simultaneously like a cross between a professor and a guileless 10-year-old boy. Hair slightly rumpled, smoking a cigarette, he greeted us with a smile outside the Suning electronics store that sprawls above his underground studio, before leading us down through the parking garage to the bowels of his damp, chilly lair. In addition to singing for P.K.14 and taking on occasional writing projects, Yang also works as a producer and engineer. Since starting his second career in 2007, he has recorded some of the underground’s most exciting young bands, including Carsick Cars, 8 Eye Spy and

was a feminist, she would just say this is how to be a person, to be a man or woman, and she talked a lot about this kind of stuff to me, as well as books and literature.

DID YOU HAVE ANY AMBITIONS TO BE AN ARTIST WHEN YOU WERE A CHILD?

Oh no, no. I didn’t have any ideas about what I wanted to be when I grew up. I didn’t think about those kinds of things. For young people of my generation, I think it was quite normal to find a job in a factory or making garments… That’s what most of the jobs were, not in a company. So I don’t think there was any space for imagination, for jobs for young people to think about what they’re going to do when they grow up.

SO YOU THOUGHT YOU WOULD JUST GO WORK IN A FACTORY?

Yeah, actually that’s why I quit university. Because that was the only way to go after university. So I quit because I don’t like that kind of job.

HOW DID YOUR PARENTS TAKE IT WHEN YOU QUIT UNIVERSITY?

“I GUESS ANOTHER SIDE TO ME IS MORE PUNK, MORE ENERGY, MORE ROCK, AND SHE IS DARKER, COLDER, MORE BEAUTIFUL”

Issue 4 /2012

WHAT KIND OF KID WERE YOU? I IMAGINE YOU AS BEING KIND OF QUIET AND STUDIOUS.

[Laughs] No, I wasn’t quiet. I was much noisier then than now. I wasn’t the best student, just a normal one. Not even really with literature.

Nothing really special ever happened to me… Though I will say, as a child my grandmother was very influential.

She was a high school teacher in Shanghai, and used to be a lawyer before liberation, so after New China, she got a lot of pressure. She raised two daughters, my mom and her sister.

She had a lot of feminist ideas. She was an early, early Chinese feminist.

Of course she would never say she

They were angry, really angry about it. And between us there were a lot of arguments, a lot of discussion. It was a really hard time.

WHAT WERE YOU PLANNING TO DO? HAD YOU ALREADY STARTED PLAYING IN A BAND?

At my first university I was studying engineering and mechanics, and I really hated that, so I was trying to learn something more about literature or writing or something. But it wasn’t very normal at that time to transfer schools. So I tried to teach myself about writing and poetry, stories and literature… Then, almost at the same time, I fell in love with rock music. So for me, there were only two ways to go: be a musician or be a writer. And I

45

some stories of the Beijing rock scene, that they were all very poor with ramshackle houses, and they had long, dirty hair, but they had a very strong spirit and were very focused on what they were doing. So that was what I imagined about the life of an artist. I told myself, if you want to be a musician, it’s going to be something like that. You’ll never have any money, you’ll have to ride your bicycle everywhere and nobody’s going to love the music; there will never be any audience. They would just love pop music, and yours isn’t so sweet. And I thought, yeah I can do that. But now it’s totally different. A lot of things have changed, and you can play a lot of shows, you can get some money from that and from touring, from brands, like Converse—it’s not what I imagined 15 or 20 years ago.

I think the music hit me at just the right time. People in their 20s or teens were very nervous about the future.

From teenagers to almost middle-aged people, we felt a bit as though life was passing us by. And then rock music like Tang Dynasty or Cui Jian showed us a

46

AND HAS THE ARTIST’S LIFE BEEN SIMILAR TO WHAT YOU IMAGINED?

No, it’s been totally different! At that time, all of my images of the life of an artist were very poor; it was like Tang Dynasty and Cui Jian. We heard about it on the radio and through

It took me four years to join a band, which happened in 1997, when I started P.K.14. I had played in other bands before, like 西, but P.K.14 was my first serious band. I’d tried to be a folk singer like Bob Dylan or Neil Young, playing my guitar and just doing solo stuff. I played some shows, but the projects were all very

and courtesy of

) page

SO HOW DID YOU MAKE THE LEAP FROM LISTENING TO ROCK MUSIC TO STARTING YOUR OWN BAND?

C a r o l i n e K i l l m e r ( o pp o s i t e

YOU FIRST HEARD ROCK MUSIC IN 1993 ON THE RADIO. WHAT WAS IT THAT MOST APPEALED TO YOU ABOUT IT?

different way to go—that you could live another kind of life. I think it had a huge impact on young people; it was completely revolutionary.

by

wanted to be a musician.

Photographs

P.K.14. circa 2001, featuring Yang Haisong, drummer Jonathan Leijonhufvud, bassist and future wife Sun Xia, and guitarist Xu Bo.

Actually, I can’t say there’s a bigger audience now than before. I think it’s almost the same. I mean, the real audience who comes to the show.

The first time I saw Tang Dynasty in Nanjing in 1993, it was in a big stadium, and there were almost 10,000 people there, and they all looked really excited. Now it’s really hard to imagine an underground band playing in a stadium to 10,000 people who are all excited about it.

Yang Haisong

AT THAT TIME, THERE WASN’T MUCH OF AN AUDIENCE, RIGHT?

“ROCK MUSIC LIKE TANG DYNASTY OR CUI JIAN SHOWED US A DIFFERENT WAY TO GO—THAT YOU COULD LIVE ANOTHER KIND OF LIFE.”

Verlaine from Television, or Richard Hell. It’s quite different—it’s not shouting or screaming… it’s like talking, but with a little bit of a nasty feeling.

DID IT FEEL NATURAL, OR DID IT FEEL LIKE YOU WERE IMITATING?

immature. I even played drums for a Metallica cover band! But I think those four years really let me learn how to play in a band and to work with other people as partners. It was kind of just like preparation for P.K.14. But I didn’t know that at the time, so I felt very upset, very nervous, always going, “I want to be, I want to play, I want to something something.”

It felt a little bit unnatural at the beginning, but I think it’s because Chinese and English lyrics are quite different, the pronunciation is quite different. So I had to try to figure out a natural way to sing Chinese lyrics. When I sang the songs, I had to focus on all the characters, how to pronounce this word. I think it was a good way for me to focus on all the lyrics, to sing with a focus on how the lips and tongue work to push the words out, with more punch. And later on, it became natural.

YOU HAVE A REALLY UNIQUE VOCAL STYLE. HOW DID THAT DEVELOP?

YOU HAVE AN INCREDIBLY POWERFUL STAGE PRESENCE. DID THAT COME ABOUT NATURALLY?

Actually, I don’t know. I never seriously think about my singing or my singing style. I used to sing kind of like Bob Dylan, you know, like an old man. And also I really liked some punk music, like the Sex Pistols, The Clash and some New York bands like Television and Richard Hell. So when I started to sing in P.K.14, I guess it was just natural to try and sing like Tom

Actually, it wasn’t very natural for me—it still isn’t. In the early days of P.K.14, all of us were quite quiet and we didn’t move very much. So I’d just be standing and singing. But I guess it was because of all the touring we did… we played so many shows and were so tired that it was really hard to keep standing in front of the microphone playing the same songs. It’s boring, actually, on tours when you’re doing it night after night. So I started trying to move, and the guitar player started trying to move. We were just like, “Let’s do anything, let’s go crazy.”

WHEN DID THAT START?

It started on our 2004 tour of China. Before

Issue 4 /2012

that tour, our bass player was Sun Xia [Yang’s wife], and she’s very quiet and would even turn her back to the audience. So it was kind of like nobody wanted to move because she wasn’t moving. And after that Shi Xudong [the band’s new bassist] came, and he’s so crazy, so he gave us a lot of energy to do something onstage.

YOUR WIFE SUN XIA WAS THE ORIGINAL BASSIST FOR P.K.14, AND THESE DAYS YOU MAKE MUSIC TOGETHER AS DEAR ELOISE. HOW DO YOU THINK SHE’S INFLUENCED YOUR MUSIC OVER THE YEARS?

As a person I have two sides, and she’s my darker side. One side of me is more punk, more energy, more rock, and she is darker, colder, more beautiful. So if I hadn’t met her, my music would be different in a way.

I think I’d be an angry young man [laughs]. I would say she is like a window into another world… one totally different from the one I know.

She came from the countryside, and she moved to Beijing quite young.

She’s lived a totally different life from me, so I’ve learned a lot from her.

YOU’RE A WRITER AS WELL AS A MUSICIAN. HOW IS WRITING POETRY DIFFERENT FROM WRITING LYRICS?

It’s a little bit similar, actually. A lot of my lyrics come from my poetry; I rewrite it and fix it into lyrics. But for me, poetry is more free. In several lines you can change your tempo and break the rhythm, but lyrics you have to shape quite rigidly for the music.

But with poetry in general there are no limitations, so you can write whatever you want. You start from

47

one point and you open up line by line, so when you finish, the original point has disappeared, but the poetry that’s left is beautiful. With lyrics you have to go back to focus on the point.

You start from a single point, and you expand from it with stories and rhymes, but after all that you have to go back to the point. This point is the most important thing, the reason that you started to sing this song.

WHERE DO YOU LOOK FOR INSPIRATION FOR YOUR WRITING?

A lot of things inspire me to write— events happening in society, something online, something that happened in Shanghai or Yunnan or some small town, or some political issue or some sensitive thing, who knows? Or even just my neighborhood, or someone I saw on the street, some stranger, some face, or even just a picture in a magazine.

WHO ARE SOME OF THE ARTISTS WHO HAVE HAD THE BIGGEST INFLUENCE ON YOU CREATIVELY?

I think most of them are writers; actually a lot of American writers, like Hemingway, J.D. Salinger, Jack Kerouac, Raymond Carver, Fitzgerald. Also, T.S. Eliot. But for music, it’s like Bob Dylan of course, Woody Guthrie, The Clash, Joy Division, Television, Fugazi, Sonic Youth—it’s quite a long list.

WHAT ARE SOME OF THE BIGGEST DIFFERENCES YOU SEE BETWEEN THE OLDER BANDS FROM WHEN YOU STARTED OUT AND THE NEWER BANDS IN TERMS OF HOW THEY APPROACH MUSIC?

When we were young and started thinking about becoming rock musicians, we knew that our lives would completely change. When you did that, you were crossing a line, going to the other side… But now I

48

In the early ’00s, bassist Shi Xudong (far left), formerly of the SUBS and Brain Failure, replaced Sun Xia to form the current P.K.14 lineup.

think if you want to be a musician and be in a rock band, it’s OK—you’re still living in this world, you don’t need to go to another side and be rebellious or dangerous or considered a bad guy on the street. Your parents won’t necessarily think you’re doing really bad or a loser.

DID YOUR PARENTS ACT THAT WAY WHEN YOU STARTED PLAYING MUSIC?

Yeah, of course, and all my friends’ parents too, thought we were just lazy, bad losers.

AND NOW WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK ABOUT YOUR CAREER IN MUSIC?

They think I’m not as big of a loser, but they still don’t really understand.

They can accept it, but of course they don’t want me to live this kind of life.

IS THERE ANYTHING THAT YOU MISS ABOUT THE ’90S, WHEN ROCK MUSIC WAS MORE OUTSIDE OF THE MAINSTREAM?

No [laughs]. There were some good things about it, because you felt like it was you against the world. Our parents and teachers saw us as losers,

or as rotten. So we just said, “OK, we’re rotten. We want to do nothing, we just do what we want.” And maybe that was good for a while, but I don’t miss it, because I already spent that time—that was my life.

YOU GUYS ARE ONE OF THE FEW BIG BANDS WHO DON’T USUALLY PLAY FESTIVALS. WHY IS THAT?

It’s partly because the sound isn’t very good, but it’s also because the organizers aren’t that great; they’re all a bit of a mess.

DO YOU THINK FESTIVALS AS THEY’VE BEEN ORGANIZED IN THE PAST FEW YEARS ARE ULTIMATELY A GOOD THING FOR ROCK MUSIC HERE?

I wouldn’t say it’s good or bad. It’s something that should happen, I guess.

For example, we can compare with American rock—after Elvis Presley, it was almost the same. Rock became something commercial, and after the hippies and San Francisco sound, in the ’70s all the rock music was going commercial. But I mean people always say that rock is dead. And in China you can say that, but there’s going to

be a revival; it’s a circle. I won’t say it’s good or bad about the festivals or promoters. I’ll just say that we don’t really like that way of playing music.

Maybe all the bands like that because they can play on a bigger stage, but it’s not our way.

YOU STARTED WORKING AS A PRODUCER IN 2007, WHEN CARSICK CARS ASKED YOU TO PRODUCE THEIR FIRST ALBUM. WHAT IS SOMETHING THAT YOU KNOW NOW ABOUT PRODUCING THAT YOU WISH YOU HAD KNOWN EARLIER?

I wish I’d just had a lot more of the skills—knowledge about the computer, the software, the hardware, the equipment. But to me, producing is more about communication with the musicians, so because I’m a musician it’s easier for me to know what they want to do. Because all musicians have their ideas about the music, they’ve all imagined how they want it to sound, but they don’t have the skills or knowledge to put that down in the

recording. But I know some of that, I have some skills, and I can help them that way.

WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE RECORDING THAT YOU’VE DONE?

I think my favorite is 8 Eye Spy, I love that recording. And actually that was my first time working as both engineer and producer, the first time I had controlled the mix table by myself. It wasn’t like with Carsick Cars or Ourself Beside Me, where I had another engineer to support me.

But I discovered that communication among so many people is really hard. I like doing engineering myself, so I can talk to the band directly and then work on the recording, so there’s nothing between you and the band.

DO YOU HAVE ANY FAVORITE YOUNG BANDS?

There are a lot; obviously, I like Carsick Cars… But I guess they’re not so young anymore. Actually, this year I really focused on Skip Skip Ben Ben,

Yang Haisong reviews a recently recorded song in his basement studio in Beijing

and I think I’m going to record them.

They’re really good. Also Chui Wan, and some other bands from Zooming Night, though I can’t say whether they’re all serious bands or just a project. Also Deadly Cradle Death, as well as Luxinpei and Fat City.

Courtesy

of

Yang Haisong

CHINESE YOU NEED

quit school

tu#xu9

)

and

退学

right

frontman

I quit university to form a band.

W6 c5ng d3xu9 tu#xu9 q& z^ yu-du#.

我从大学退学去组乐队。

zh^ch3ng

Caroline Killmer (top

主唱 sound engineer

Photographs

by

mentor

ti1oy~nsh~

调音师

Our frontman is a shoegazer.

W6men de zh^ch3ng l2o d~ngzhe z#j@ de xi9.

d2osh~

我们的主唱老盯着自己的鞋。

导师

Issue 4 /2012

49

On the Chinese Road TRAIN TRAVEL ADVENTURES ACROSS THE COUNTRY Brand New from The World of Chinese Books!

Sharing Stories, Sharing Culture

CHINA IN SCOPE

The real lives and stories of contemporary Chinese people through photography

CULTURAL FILES: INTANGIBLE HERITAGE

CULTURAL FILES: CULTURAL RELICS

Feast your eyes on mouth-watering delicacies and truly magnificent traditions

A mysterious mountain mansion, kung fu fighting monks and all the places you will want to visit

Order online for discount prices

社交 汉语

SOCIAL CHINESE

MARCHINGto

RED DRUM BEAT

a

S pi c e u p yo u r C hi n e se c o n v e rsat i o n s w i t h a spri n k l i n g o f re d so n g l y ri c s

Illustration

by

Li Rui

怎样在生活中运用 红歌的歌词

S

troll through a Chinese park of a morning and you are likely to catch strains of music and singing floating through the air. Draw closer and you’ll find the choir consists of benign-looking silver-haired old folk, sitting or standing with their hands

Issue 4 /2012

clasped behind their backs, belting out chorus after chorus of what sound like uplifting power ballads. What are they singing? In most cases, the track list will contain a healthy selection of red songs (红歌 h5ngg8), a vocal legacy of China’s recent past.

Red songs are most often associated

with the patriotic or propaganda tunes written between the 1940s and 1978.

The genre still survives, but without the kind of impersonal dedication that pervaded the music in former decades, and consequently missing the essential ingredient necessary to be considered a true red song.

73

THE DRAMATIC NATURE OF THE LYRICS LEND THEMSELVES WELL TO COMIC INTERPRETATION WHEN DROPPED INTO CONVERSATIONS OUT OF CONTEXT In the 1950s, war movies carried scores almost exclusively consisting of red songs, while their other primary preserve were tracks extolling the virtues of the redoubtable Chinese worker and his struggle to build the new China.

In the 1960s, red songs based around the theme of how much people loved and worshipped Chairman Mao became de rigueur, and many composed in the latter half of the Cultural Revolution simply lifted Mao’s quotes and used them as lyrics. The artistic merit of the songs’ words notwithstanding, the tunes were so harsh on the ear that the style was immediately discontinued at the

Parodies of classic red songs with lyrics like “I fear no heaven or earth, but I do fear foreigners who can speak Chinese,” have made the tunes a source of comedy for a new generation.

74

end of the Cultural Revolution.

Political notions aside, not all revolutionary songs are entirely devoid of musical merit—in fact, the musical quality of red songs is a major reason they’ve endured. The most celebrated red songs are invariably those that took classic minority compositions and replaced the original lyrics, or those that were composed based on established folk music styles. It’s often the ethnic charm, rather than the political overtones, that give red songs such wide appeal.

In 2009, red songs made a grand comeback among young people with the rise to stardom of 20-year-old folk talent Huang Ying (黄英), who won third place in “Super Girl,” the enormously popular Hunan TV reality show. Huang performed an almost entirely red repertoire on the show, sealing her fame as “the red song queen” with her rendition of the Jiangxi folk music number “Azalea” (《映山红》Y#ngsh`nh5ng), which essentially trumpets the people’s love for the Red Army.

Red songs frequently also employ idyllic depictions of China’s landscapes to pluck people’s patriotic heartstrings. In doing so, they serve as a testament to the tremendous changes China’s natural environment has undergone over the

course of half a century. For example, “Waves after Waves in Honghu Lake” (《洪湖水，浪打浪》H5ngh% Shu@, L3ng D2 L3ng) begins with the lyric, “In Honghu Lake waves chase each other… you can see wild ducks, water chestnuts and lotuses everywhere.” (洪湖水呀，浪呀嘛浪打浪啊……

四处野鸭和菱藕。H5ngh% shu@ ya, l3ng ya ma l3ng d2 l3ng a... S#ch& y0y` h9 l!ng'6u.)

Fast-forward to the summer of 2011, and the worst drought in 70 years had virtually sucked the vast lake dry.

In 2010, red songs hit the headlines when it emerged that a Sichuan asylum was treating patients’ mental illnesses by uniting them in rousing renditions of the old classics, triggering public concern over the motivations behind (and effectiveness of) the therapy.

However, a Southern Weekly journalist visited the institution and came to the conclusion that the patients were mostly veterans who actually enjoyed the singing, and it was the only thing they could all do together. This hints at a primary reason why people are so attached to the songs: they represent a form of shared memory that is still strong enough to bring strangers together in parks.

Younger generations still find time for red songs, in part because the dramatic nature of the lyrics lend themselves well to comic interpretation, especially when dropped into conversations out of context.

For foreigners, they’re also a means of flaunting your familiarity with Chinese culture, a la Youku phenomenon Hong Laowai (红老 外), a New York-based American professional whose videos of himself singing red songs and other classics have garnered millions of views.

Is your office beset by constant infighting and an air of perpetual

视听 空间

AUDIOVISUAL WORLD

Follow Follow 《乐队》 Director Peng Lei (彭磊) Producer 22FILM

78

N

ear Beijing’s city center, under the shadow of the Drum and Bell towers, lies the neighborhood of Gulou (鼓楼). Here, amidst the glitz of vintage boutiques, you’ll encounter members of the capital’s in-crowd––the fashionistas, the hipsters, the beatniks, and, of course, the musicians. They’re young and they’re lugging their guitar bags and instruments behind them or tacking up gig posters on dusty hutong walls.

Independent movie director Peng Lei (彭磊) takes a closer look at the lives of Gulou’s underground kids in his latest work, “Follow Follow” (《乐 队》Yu-du#), exploring the experience of being an adolescent in Beijing with an inexplicable compulsion to form a rock band. Though the film, which has been entered into the Asian New Talent Competition at the Shanghai International Film Festival, features a

young woman as the lead actor, there’s something subtly autobiographical about it. After all, Peng Lei is the frontman and lead singer for one of the most long-standing and distinctive Chinese indie bands, New Pants (新裤子 X~n K&zi).

“Follow Follow” is one of the first narratives to take on the vibrant subculture of Beijing’s so-called “indie music scene.” A vintage aesthetic and the odd dose of ironic imagination underpin its story of being a music fan and a musician at the same time, while non-professional actors give the film a gritty, true-to-life feeling.

With its expressionist narration, which sways between reality and a kind of inner world, the film suggests an alternative framework for making movies in China. Despite its lack of commercial appeal, it’s also a story from which a wide audience of film buffs can learn.

22FILM Founded in 1999 in Beijing, small production house 22FILM produces both commercial and independent films, including Peng Lei’s works and Wang Chao’s drama, “Celestial

Kingdom." It also supports and promotes small-scale film productions and digital cinema, and supplies equipment for young directors and a film-orientated art center.

Photographs

courtesy of

Peng Lei

The “As you will” (如意金箍棒), is a magical, 36,000 jin-heavy golden rod that can take any shape or size.

Like many adolescent music fans, the film’s protagonist, a high school student named Even, worships and even idolizes rock ’n’ roll. She’s particularly devoted to Kurt Cobain, the iconic leader of the ’90s grunge band Nirvana. Cobain, who committed suicide at age 27 almost 20 years ago, is seen by many rock ’n’ roll fans in the West and in China as a major idol and an artistic guide, but to Even, the soul of the deceased singer is practically a real-life companion and savior.

Their relationship begins with a shrine in Even’s room, where every night she lights incense and finds spiritual comfort in talking to Cobain’s photographs: My life is really boring, and everyone is dull. Only your music can save me, but you

Issue 4 /2012

left too early. Good night, my dear.

W6 de sh8nghu5 zh8n w%li1o, zh4uw9i de r9n d4u sh2qu8. Zh@y6u n@ de y~nyu- c1i n9ng ji& w6, d3nsh# n@ z6u de t3i z2o le. Q~n'3i de, w2n'`n.

Zhao Yiwen (赵怡文, aka Even) is the protagonist of "Follow Follow." After watching a rock concert, she decides to form her own band. Even is not a professional actress, and "Follow Follow" is her first movie.

我的生活真无聊，周围的人都傻 缺。只有你的音乐才能救我，但是 你走得太早了。 亲爱的，晚安。 But during one of these solitary nights, something strange happens: what looks like an astroship lands outside Even’s window and ejects her beloved Kurt Cobain.

Only Peng Lei’s imagination could link aliens to a dead rock icon, but this visual oddity (chosen over the more plausible—and banal— manifestation of a ghost), is what made it possible for the movie to pass film bureau approval requirements,

THE SOUL OF THE DECEASED SINGER IS PRACTICALLY AKIN TO A REAL-LIFE COMPANION AND SAVIOR 79

Even (right) with best friend on film 江老蔫儿(Ji`ng L2o Ni`nr). In real life, 江老蔫儿 (aka Pandajennifer)is a young internet celebrity known for her fashion taste that combines vintage looks with extravagant ones. She's also popular for her personal clothing shop on Taobao.

"I'VE ALWAYS WONDERED WHY SO MANY CHINESE PEOPLE LIKE ROCK 'N' ROLL; MAYBE TO SATISFY THEIR CURIOSITY"

bands anticipate having after catching the interest of a local music label. This one, however, doesn’t exactly play out the way they expected: I want to release your records.

W6 sh# xi2ng b`ng n@men ch$ ch3ngpi3n.

Me. Ji&sh# w6.

就是我。 Do you know grunge? Can you record it?

N@ zh~dao grunge ma? K0y@ l& ma? 你知道grunge吗？可以录吗？

我是想帮你们出唱片。 Do we get any money?

Y6u qi1n ma?

I don’t know any kind of music.

W6 sh9nme y~nyu- d4u b& d6ng.

我什么音乐都不懂。

有钱吗？

80

We need to find a producer.

Zh2o y! g- zh#zu7r9n.

找一个制作人。 Yes, the producer is important; I plan to provide you with a very cool producer.

Sh#. Zh#zu7r9n h0n zh7ngy3o, su6y@ w6 d2su3n `np1i y! g- f8ich1ng ni%b~ de zh#zu7r9n.

Don’t talk to me about Western stuff. You think Chinese people understand Western things? You keep on talking about rock music. Just because you have a "band"

Peng Lei

没钱……你们是新人。新人怎么 会有钱？

Things quickly go from bad to worse as the would-be producer pins his commercial colors to the mast, batting down Even’s request to be produced by Steve Albini, the American producer for many bands, including Nirvana:

是。制作人很重要，所以我打算 安排一个非常牛逼的制作人。 Who? Sh9i?

谁？

Peng Lei (right) won Best Director for the Asian New Talent Award at the June 2012 Shanghai International Film Festival for "Follow Follow"

courtesy of

No… You’re new, how can you get money?

M9i qi1n…N@men sh# x~nr9n. X~nr9n z0nme hu# y6u qi1n?

Photographs

which in general do not permit supernatural elements.

With Cobain sharing her living space, Even feels like she has found a boyfriend, even if he comes in the form of a long-dead foreign rock star haunting her room.

When she’s not with Cobain, she spends most of her time roaming around the city, her silent strolls accompanied by a soundtrack borrowed from Dalian post-rock band Hua Lun. One night, during a performance by the famous post-punk band Re-Tros, she meets young (and this time, real) grunge musicians Xiao P and Yangyang. By the end of the night, Even is determined to rope her newfound friends into forming their own band.

They soon have the conversation most

Issue 4 /2012

81

"I SEE WHAT PEOPLE WEAR ABROAD AND I WEAR THE SAME" doesn’t mean you’re making rock’n’ roll.

You know what Chinese like? They like superstars. I’m gonna make you guys superstars. You hear me?"

N@ bi9 g8n w6 t! w3igu5r9n. W3igu5r9n de d4ngxi Zh4nggu5r9n d6ng ma? N@men l2o shu4 y1og^nyu- y1og^nyu-, bi9 ju9de n@ zu7 yu-du# ji&sh# y1og^nyu- le. Zh4nggu5r9n x@huan sh9nme ya? X@huan d3m!ngx~ng! W6 y3o b2 n@men b`ozhu`ng ch9ng d3m!ngx~ng! Zh~dao ma?

你别跟我提外国人。外国人的东西 中国人懂吗？你们老说摇滚乐摇滚 乐，别觉得你做乐队就是摇滚乐 了。 中国人喜欢什么呀？喜欢大 明星！我要把你们包装成大明星！ 知道吗？ For many Chinese rockers, the West is the promised land of music. So when Even is asked about her style of clothes, she answers: I see what people wear abroad, and I wear the same.

K3n gu5w3i chu`n sh9nme, w6 ji& chu`n sh9nme.

看国外穿什么，我就穿什么。 Summoned somewhere from the depths of outer space, Cobain

can’t help but be bewildered by the popularity of rock music in China: “I’ve always wondered why so many Chinese like rock ’n’ roll; maybe to satisfy their curiosity. So many people in China call to me.”

Even though rock music has been imported from the West, “Follow Follow” shows how the genre has adopted its own Chinese characteristics, which is no great surprise given Lei is one of the most interesting and original products of this new wave. One of the last New Pants songs, as sung by Even at the close of “Follow Follow,” captures this: We aren’t Ramones we aren’t Joy Division, we don’t listen to pop music we don’t go to karaoke, we are not artists we don’t go on the Internet, we are not party stars we are not signed by Modern Sky. I don’t want to imitate you, I don’t want to be you, I don’t want to follow you, I don’t want to become like you.

W6men b%sh# L9im9ngs~ / W6men b%sh# Joy Division / W6men b& t~ng li%x!ng y~nyu- / W6men b% q& k2l` OK / W6men b%sh# y#sh&ji` / W6men b% sh3ng Internet / W6men b%sh# w2nhu# m!ngx~ng / W6men b%z3i Modern Sky / W6 b&xi2ng m5f2ng n@

THE DIRECTOR Peng Lei (彭磊) isn’t just the frontman of Beijing’s cult band New Pants—he graduated from Beijing Film Academy and enjoys animation, design, movie making and virtually any artistic form that allows him to 82

express his own lively take on the world. He’s the writer and director of sci-fi B-movie “Peking Monster,” lesbian-themed rock band tour “Panda Candy” and vintage pastiche “Equal Love” (《野人也有爱》).

/ W6 b&xi2ng ch9ngw9i n@ / W6 b&xi2ng g8nsu! n@ / W6 b&xi2ng bi3n ch9ng n@

我们不是雷蒙斯 我们不是Joy Division 我们不听流行音乐 我们不去卡啦OK 我们不是艺术家 我们不上Internet 我们不是晚会明星 我们不在Modern Sky

我不想模仿你 我不想成为你 我不想跟随你 我不想变成你 It’s a song that could be taken as a kind of manifesto for the many young Chinese musicians who tirelessly carry around their instruments, constantly strive for bigger stages and dream of success in Beijing and beyond. - EDOARDO GAGLIARDI

Get to know like-minded internationals in your city Find reliable information about your new environment Meet other expats at top-class InterNations Events

Issue 4/2012

www.internations.org

83