Many of us learn all too late in life that we can gain by letting go. You can't have it all—at least not forever. In any musical partnership, what you often have to let go of in order to gain is control. Peter Gabriel argued that their aren't many novels that are written by committee. He said that in 1974, and by 1975, following the release of the gargantuan concept album The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway, he and Genesis went their separate ways. Which brings us to the other thing you have to let go of if one is to keep a creative collaboration going: ego. Ego in the sense of embracing your failings, and seeing criticism not as a slap in the face, but as an opportunity. A chance to get better.
Phin Berry, half of the minimalist and dark synth pop duo Dronetonics, has learned well the process of letting go during the last few years. Starting out writing the songs that are about to see the light of day on Dronetonics full-length debut on his own in 2011, he was contacted via e-mail by the woman who would become his musical other half, Crystal Shien, after the latter heard some of his recordings on the music sharing site Soundcloud. For the first year and a half of their partnership, the band was strictly Berry's monster to manipulate. But the more he tried to keep control, the more he realized that his need to keep things under his thumb was becoming a detriment. Something had to give eventually.
“As time went on, actually, about a year ago," says the well-spoken, thoughtful synth player/singer, "we had some friction between us. Things were getting a bit stunted. I came into practice one day with a song that was only in the very beginning stages. I just started playing through it, and she just started playing something and started singing. A total jam, which we didn't do that much of in the first year and a half.”
Photo Courtesy of Duncan Longden
Call that a watershed moment in Dronetonics history when Shien went from being a mere plus one to a full partner. Since then, things have become much more egalitarian, with the pair sharing everything from songwriting to lyric duties. The result, says Berry, is that by losing a little bit of his control over the band, he has gained something far more valuable.
"It's totally changed," he expresses proudly. "She's got strong opinions about things. She's taken a much more active role in singing and performance as well. She's become much more interested in stage antics, a.k.a. expressing sexuality. It's cool to work with someone you see change and get better.”
There's little doubt that letting go took no small amount of humility for Berry, but his life hasn't been without lessons in that regard. A veteran of the Taiwan music scene for the better part of a decade, he recalls a time when he was manning the keys for the short-lived Ramones-esque post-punk band Auto Dafe´. In the band with him was his best friend, then as he is to this day. But a moment of brutal honesty abruptly ended Berry's time in the band, and it was on that day that he learned well the importance of putting ego aside.
“I was fired from that band by my best friend. He said I was a rubbish keyboard player. But it's the best thing that ever happened to me, because my ego was very, very bruised. I was like, 'I'm fired from the band because I suck.' So I was like, 'I'm gonna learn how to properly use this synthesizer.' Because it's true, I really didn't know how to use it. I could play it like a keyboard, but it's a synthesizer.”
And so, faced with a choice between getting angry, getting defensive, or taking the setback as a chance to reflect on his abilities, Berry chose the latter, and would spend the next two years getting to know his instrument. This Saturday, the result of that hard work and reflection comes to fruition with the release of Dronetonics debut album, Sentiments, a noir mix of stripped-down synths, noise and distortion, eerie and spaced-out melodies, and lyrical hooks that are by turns sweet and alluringly melancholic. It's a dark album by Berry's own admission, but that doesn't mean it's a sad album for people who prefer sitting at home with the shades drawn tight and have a penchant for putting on too much eyeliner and quoting lines from Edgar Allen Poe over, and over, and over again.
“Darkness and reflection, it's hard for me to draw the line between those two things. I don't see darkness as being sadness. Actually, when I'm happiest I make the darkest music. When I'm depressed I make happy music. I definitely use music. When people say 'Music has saved my soul,' it's true. If I didn't have music, I might not be here.”
*Dronetonics play tomorrow at Revolver, 1-2, Roosevelt Road Sec 1, Taipei City (台北市中正區羅斯福路一段1-2號). Tickets are NT$300 at the door. Doors open at 20:30 and the show gets started at 9pm.
That US assistance was a model for Taiwan’s spectacular development success was early recognized by policymakers and analysts. In a report to the US Congress for the fiscal year 1962, former President John F. Kennedy noted Taiwan’s “rapid economic growth,” was “producing a substantial net gain in living.” Kennedy had a stake in Taiwan’s achievements and the US’ official development assistance (ODA) in general: In September 1961, his entreaty to make the 1960s a “decade of development,” and an accompanying proposal for dedicated legislation to this end, had been formalized by congressional passage of the Foreign Assistance Act. Two
Despite the intense sunshine, we were hardly breaking a sweat as we cruised along the flat, dedicated bike lane, well protected from the heat by a canopy of trees. The electric assist on the bikes likely made a difference, too. Far removed from the bustle and noise of the Taichung traffic, we admired the serene rural scenery, making our way over rivers, alongside rice paddies and through pear orchards. Our route for the day covered two bike paths that connect in Fengyuan District (豐原) and are best done together. The Hou-Feng Bike Path (后豐鐵馬道) runs southward from Houli District (后里) while the
President William Lai’s (賴清德) March 13 national security speech marked a turning point. He signaled that the government was finally getting serious about a whole-of-society approach to defending the nation. The presidential office summarized his speech succinctly: “President Lai introduced 17 major strategies to respond to five major national security and united front threats Taiwan now faces: China’s threat to national sovereignty, its threats from infiltration and espionage activities targeting Taiwan’s military, its threats aimed at obscuring the national identity of the people of Taiwan, its threats from united front infiltration into Taiwanese society through cross-strait exchanges, and its threats from
March 31 to April 6 On May 13, 1950, National Taiwan University Hospital otolaryngologist Su You-peng (蘇友鵬) was summoned to the director’s office. He thought someone had complained about him practicing the violin at night, but when he entered the room, he knew something was terribly wrong. He saw several burly men who appeared to be government secret agents, and three other resident doctors: internist Hsu Chiang (許強), dermatologist Hu Pao-chen (胡寶珍) and ophthalmologist Hu Hsin-lin (胡鑫麟). They were handcuffed, herded onto two jeeps and taken to the Secrecy Bureau (保密局) for questioning. Su was still in his doctor’s robes at