June 03, 2005
News | Taiwan Chronicle #1: Taipei’s Sonic Ecosystem |
I kick off the series with impressions of aural culture shock (the experience a pair of foreign ears is likely to undergo upon arrival in Taiwan's capital city) and a general description of the island's current mainstream and indie music trends...
The ears too must bear their burden in the sensory barrage that greets the visitor to Taipei, Taiwan, one of the most densely populated places on Earth. Certainly it seems at first that the eyes and nose catch the brunt of things, a dizzying array of sights and smells: movement and neon, food and incense, but first and foremost the human throngs that Taipei-ers call people mountain/people sea. But the ears must adapt to another kind of volume intensity. Truth be told, the Taiwanese don’t much care for quiet, which is good because it’s in very short supply.
Taipei’s sleek and efficient underground rail system means it’s no longer in danger of unseating Bangkok as Asia’s Greatest Traffic Cluster-Fuck, but the city still teems with busses, cars and motorcycles. These set a humming, whooshing, squealing, beeping soundstage upon which a myriad other noises vie for lead actor: cell phones, sidewalk barkers, karaoke emanations from who-knows-where, political sound trucks, the electric-entrepreneurial wails of cart-pushing bun vendors and knife-sharpeners, the amplified snake-charmer reeds and wailings of paid mourners in funeral processions… and from every shop (which essentially means "every doorway" in this most thoroughly mercantile metropolis), music, music, music.
Walking down the street in Taipei can be like listening to a mix tape by a schizophrenic with ADD--every five seconds you hear another bad song, played much too loud. Western, Japanese and Mandarin pop predominate, with hip hop and R & B now clearly the genres of choice. When last I walked the streets of Taipei--ten years ago--dance music and rap were popular, but the LA Boyz (a group of urbed-out, rapping, Chinese-American pretty boys) were the only ethnic Chinese to dominate the charts by copping a hip hop style. Now it’s the norm. And if you thought "Wiggers" were funny, it’s time to check the Chiggers. If the Urban Dictionary decides it needs a picture to put next to the word wack, any CD shop in Taipei can supply plenty.
The most noticable trend in the Taiwan indie scene these days is probably… well, shit—the mere fact that it now exists. Ten years ago there was the trailblazing girl band Lady Bug, a nascent Japan-inspired noise movement and the first Spring Scream festival. Today there are labels like White Wabbit and 7" Vinyl, clubs like the Wall and Underworld, multiple festivals and a host of college-age bands. I wish I could say they’re mostly great and highly original, but I can’t. Based on direct observation and word-of-mouth, it seems that they’re mostly mediocre and highly derivative. As my new friend and helpful Taipei guide William put it, “With most Taiwan indie bands, you can tell what their favorite band is after they’ve played one song.”
This isn’t to say that there’s no promise in the Taiwan indie world--it just hasn’t completely come into its own yet. There’s a lot of energy and talent evident, so it’s hopefully just a matter of time before Taiwan finds some sounds of its own. One interesting and promising development is the heavy presence of women in indie bands, labels and clubs. I had a fascinating conversation with one of them, band leader and label owner Huang Wan-ting. Among other things, we discussed why women have such a unique (and some might say counter-intuitive) presence in the indie scene on this Confucian island. An upcoming entry in this series includes a transcript of our discussion.
But no matter what the latest mainstream and indie musical trends, there is one musical form that still reigns, ubiquitous as it is insipid: the love ballad. From the earliest Taiwanese 78s on the Japanese Columbia label to the 60s’ soporific noodlings of the Taipei Hilton Orchestra Two Organ (sic) to Teresa Teng and Kenny G, the island has long filled its coffers with mellow gold. I was stunned to find that you still can’t spend a week in the cabs, department stores and 7-11s of Taipei without hearing Air Supply and the Carpenters; and no matter how hard the latest Chinese chickadee tries to pretend she’s Alliyah on her new CD, you can bet her producers will pad the disc with several middle-of-the-road ballads so bland they’ll make you want to gargle MSG.
But mellow gold is probably an auditory necessity in Taiwan, the sedative yin to stimulant yang of the over-crowded streets, a gooey organic substance that holds the sonic ecosystem intact. Climbing and surfing the people mountain/people sea all day is exciting and noisy enough for Joe Taipei--when it’s time to order a beer and grab that wireless, echo-laden mic, he wants to kick back and sing something smooooooth.