The battle between reality “talent” shows One Million Star (超級星光大道) and Super Idol (超級偶像) can be said to have reached its end point with the release of Jing Chang’s (張芸京) album Out of the Blue (破天荒). TTV’s Super Idol never quite had the legs of One Million Star, but if nothing else, it discovered in Chang, a 25-year-old graphic designer, a talented performer. With her androgynous features, a dress sense that skirts butch-lesbian cliches, and her boyish voice, she garnered a solid fan base as she worked her way through the show with songs like Jet’s Are You Going to Be My Girl and Mandarin songs that could easily be given a lesbian frisson if the listener so chose.
Out of the Blue hit the charts last week at No. 3 and has since climbed to No. 1, not a bad effort given that Chang’s victory in Super Idol is now nearly a year old.
The album, which is a tad rough around the edges, includes some quality songs that have an appeal that goes beyond their popularity with the KTV crowd. This has as much to do with Jing’s style as her talent, for Out of the Blue’s sound is very much mainstream Mando-pop, and it is Chang’s slightly prickly personality and style that gives it that little bit more, making tracks like Let Me Look After You (讓我照顧你), Unreasonable Love (偏愛) and Fly Away Then (你飛吧), memorable. Lyrics such as, “I hear no reason, by love is unreasonable/feel my love/I’ll wait until you depend on me/my unreasonable love/that makes me happy even though it hurts” (講不聽偏愛/靠我感覺愛/等你的依賴/對你偏愛/痛也很愉快), are nicely evocative and play off against Chang’s style and speculation as to her sexual orientation.
There are a couple of write-offs, such as the wildly over-produced Cynical (玩世不恭) in which sound engineers and producers trip the singer up. However, for an album generated through a TV reality show, this is one of the few that deserves some attention.
— IAN BARTHOLOMEW
There must be nothing more irritating for an artist than critics and reviewers incessantly comparing their mature work unfavorably with their early work. But in the case of Lin Sheng-xiang (林生祥), who emerged as a creative powerhouse with the release of his early protest music, such as the album Let Us Sing Mountain Songs (我等就來唱山歌), it must be said that he seems to have worked desperately hard to lose his broad appeal and disappear up a minor musical tributary that will only appeal to a small number of fans.
Listening to Growing Wild is frustrating for anyone who has experienced the combustible energy of his work as lead singer for Labor Exchange (交工樂隊), whose music was inspired by the fusion of traditional Chinese instrumentation and the culture of rock ’n’ roll pioneered by Chinese rocker Cui Jian (崔健). Now, Lin has retreated into a self-consciously rustic abode in which guitar and voice are his only tools.
Growing Up Wild sets out to tell the story of a young boy who grows up with a little sister and experiences the trials of a family breakup. It seems to have the same kind of aspirations as songs like Bruce Springsteen’s Down to the River or Badlands, but it remains, both in sound and lyrics, relentlessly small. There is a soap opera baldness to the story, and this rarely transcends the cliches of domestic tragedy to embrace something bigger.
Lin strives for an unadorned simplicity, and perhaps there is something solid in the relentlessly undramatic treatment that he gives his story. I can’t help but wonder whether Lin believes that a lack of artifice equals a more truthful and powerful revelation. In Growing Up Wild, Lin has sincerity and commitment by the bucket load, but for this reviewer at least, this is no substitute for musical and lyrical invention.
— IAN BARTHOLOMEW
The Shine & Shine & Shine & Shine is the latest standout among a growing number of non-mainstream Taiwanese bands putting out smarter and more sophisticated music.
Meet Me When Your Are 25, the indie-pop group’s debut full-length album, has all the ingredients of a hipster party: lots of dance rock beats, spacey pop sounds and lyrics suited for 20-somethings waking up from a long spell of introspective navel-gazing.
Female lead singer Meuko sounds cutesy but suitably detached on songs like Song 1 and Sweetie, and hysterical and manic on Cut My Hair. She writes and sings in both Chinese and English. With the latter, she takes a few grammatical liberties that will befuddle native speakers, but it doesn’t matter much.
The weird and zany I Know What You Say, which has obtuse English and German lyrics sewn together, is one of the album’s most fun and infectious tracks.
Meuko’s vocal delivery, if sometimes strained or occasionally off-key, has an urgent, raw energy that keeps your attention. It plays off well against the funky drum rhythms, synthesizer flourishes and clean guitar lines that prop up the melodies.
Another strong track, Sudden Light (一瞬之光), written by guitarist and synth player Dixen (小妹), waxes bittersweet and nostalgic about youth; the smooth J-pop style vocals and arrangement leave the song with an optimistic and hopeful sheen.
The song’s refrain inspires the album’s title, which touches upon the theme of aging and moving “on to the next stage of life,” according to a press release by the band’s label, Hinote.
But in terms of overall feel, the album suggests a youth unrealized. For all of the highly stylized and slick songwriting, the band has room to channel more of its exuberance into musical expression. If they keep at it, Meet Me may eventually be seen as a snapshot of a band just starting to bloom.
— DAVID CHEN
Good things have come to those waiting for this first full-length album from Nylas. The electronica duo, which formed in 2005, has weaved together a set of musical vignettes full of beautifully dense synthesizer sounds, ethereal vocal harmonies and pop verve.
But there’s more than just style and aesthetics here. Peel away layers of beeps, chirps and keyboard splashes, and there’s a warm, playful soul behind numbers like Trash Taking a Sunbath (廢物曬太陽) and Madam Butterfly (蝴蝶夫人).
Childhood imagination inspires all of the songs, which are supplemented by a book of illustrations and short stories (in Chinese) created by lyricist and singer Labi and guitarist and synth player Arny. The physical copy of the CD is worth picking up just for the charming artwork, which looks like it belongs on a child’s bookshelf but is something adults could enjoy.
Bright calliope tones leave Sun Circus (太陽馬戲班) with a touch of kawaii, but there is also an allure to surreal characters such as two tigers “that share a tail.” Arnica (午後的山金車), a Mando-pop type number, is less challenging than the earlier tunes but makes for a fun, refreshing break halfway through the album.
The music never gets dark, but it grows stranger and more fantastic with the spacey and hypnotic grooves of Broken Crayon (幽魂腊腊) and Tails Catch Your Tongue (小尾巴).
The dreamy and escapist mood throughout the album yields a few quirky stories, such as Stephanie’s Candy House. The main character talks about her best friend, Stephanie, who “wants to marry a white policeman” named Magic, who is “amazing like angel Valentine.” But she casts doubt over Stephanie’s romantic bliss: “Yellow and white/A wonderful life/Yellow and white/A wonderful lie.”
The album only sounds better with repeated listening. The songs are well-conceived and stand on their own as self-contained stories. Labi’s
intimate, transparent voice firmly grounds each tune, but never distracts; Arny’s arrangements are ornate but not overbearing.
— DAVID CHEN
March 24 to March 30 When Yang Bing-yi (楊秉彝) needed a name for his new cooking oil shop in 1958, he first thought of honoring his previous employer, Heng Tai Fung (恆泰豐). The owner, Wang Yi-fu (王伊夫), had taken care of him over the previous 10 years, shortly after the native of Shanxi Province arrived in Taiwan in 1948 as a penniless 21 year old. His oil supplier was called Din Mei (鼎美), so he simply combined the names. Over the next decade, Yang and his wife Lai Pen-mei (賴盆妹) built up a booming business delivering oil to shops and
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