Taiwan Today

Although adults had their own music —Taiwanese folk ballads, old Japanese tunes, and Mandarin love songs— for young people, Western pop music was the rage. They thought the Mandarin songs, spinoffs from music popular in Shanghai during the 1940s, were simply too old-fashioned, sentimental, and out of touch. Instead they tuned into the U.S. Armed Forces Network and listened to Dick Clark and the latest American and British hits.

Kids didn't really care if they could understand all the words. They just wanted to be up-to-date, which meant being on top of the Western music scene. They not only bought Western records when they could, but also imitated the fashions on the album covers. Boys wore bell-bottom pants and slicked-back Elvis hairstyles, and college girls were into miniskirts, platform shoes, and teased hair. Local singers were also releasing entire albums of Western hits, sung in English, a trend that lasted into the early 1970s.

Times have changed. Turn on the radio or, more likely, the TV today, and the local pop music scene may still have a good share of Western music, but it is dominated by Taiwan's own talent. "The number of local producers, lyric writers, composers, musicians, and singers has grown," says Tsai Tsung-cheng (蔡宗政), the owner of the Big Rock Production Co. "Instead of singing in English, they are singing in Mandarin and Taiwanese. Except for universal themes like love, they tend to adopt local themes."

As a result, young people listen to a wide variety of music: Mandarin dance songs, rap music in Chinese and English, rock music with Taiwanese lyrics, and melancholy folk-pop ballads, to name just a few of the most popular styles. Taiwan now even has its own twice-a-week segment, "Gone Taiwan," aired on an Asia-wide 24-hour music video channel (see story on page 26). Tastes in Western music, which is still widely popular, have also become far more diverse, from Madonna and Michael Jackson to Nirvana and Guns 'N' Roses.

And the popular music scene doesn't stop with radio or TV —or even with the local CD market, which has become one of the largest in Asia. People of all ages spend leisure hours with friends at KTV parlors, where they can sing their favorite songs with video-karaoke accompaniment. Even bigger hangouts for teenagers and young adults are the numerous live-music pubs, where local bands play everything from love songs to heavy metal. And about once a month, music fans can splurge on a high-priced ticket to a live rock concert by international stars like Bon Jovi and Sting —an opportunity that wasn't even dreamed of before the 1980s.

In the last two or three decades, not only has Taiwan's popular music scene developed its own unique range —a mixture of local and international influences— but the island has become the center for the growing Chinese pop music industry. The five major international record producers, Warner Brothers, Sony, EMI, BMG, and Polygram, have all opened Taipei offices, joining about 150 local record companies. Nine hundred to a thousand new albums are released every year. Last year, about 28 million Chinese-language tapes, CDs, and music videos and laser discs were sold on the island, plus another estimated 6 million pirated copies. Total sales were about US$163 million. "Now everyone comes here to build up their Chinese repertoire," says Michael Hwang (黃偉翔), managing director of Polygram Taiwan. "Instead of the mainland and Hong Kong, the multinational record companies come to Taiwan." According to Hwang, the island has found its place on the international pop map.

The first real breakthrough for local pop music came in the mid-1970s, when college students started a campus folk music movement, inspired by a similar trend in the United States. These singers were among the crowd that followed Western pop music religiously, but they were also hungry for songs that spoke directly to their own lives. Although most of them had no musical training, they plucked away at their guitars and wrote their own lyrics. "These young students were very combative," recalls Lou Shiao-yun (羅小雲), who got her start at about that time as a DJ for the Broadcasting Corporation of China (BCC), Taiwan's leading pop music radio station. "They sang about their day-to-day lives, their love affairs, their experiences as students. And they attracted quite a few listeners."

Their music also reflected a strong political consciousness. They were strongly affected by Taiwan's growing diplomatic isolation, a frequent theme in their songs, and hoped to compensate for it by expressing in music a sense of their own national and personal identity.

In June 1975, the movement made its off-campus debut when singer Yang Hsien (楊弦) gave a well-publicized performance at the Contemporary Folk Song Concert at Chungshan Hall in downtown Taipei. For his lyrics, he adapted poems by Yu Kwang-chung (余光中), a well-known writer who often described scenes of rural life. In 1976, the newly founded Sin Ko Records started promoting Yang and other campus singers. Within a few years, their songs were beginning to appear on the Bee's Top Ten, which started airing in 1978. The campus singers also began appearing on TV variety programs. Soon their popularity attracted the attention of other producers as well. In fact, the island's two largest record companies today, the UFO Group and Rock Records, got their start in the early 1980s with successful releases by campus folk singers.

The trend continued well into the early 1980s, gradually becoming more professional and more oriented toward grassroots themes. Young people now had a worthwhile alternative to Western pop. "Their music definitely had a lot of American influence," says UFO producer and songwriter Lee Tzu-heng (李子恆), who started out as a campus folk musician. "But they were writing in Mandarin and about local themes."

Two of the biggest successes during this era were Lo Ta-yu (羅大佑) and Ho Te-chien (侯德健), both of whom composed, wrote, and performed their own music. They also sang about experiences unique to Taiwan, such as life in the island's small-town communities, about kids hanging out at comic-book rental stores, or about the old men who used to pedal carts around their neighborhood collecting bottles. Like the early campus singers, they also infused their songs with political and social comments, such as on the loss of diplomatic ties with the United States or on the materialistic attitudes of modern society.

Eventually, the most successful campus musicians shifted away from their simple, rustic style and became more market-oriented. In addition to folk ballads, they began releasing albums of upbeat rock tunes and dance music, and expanded from single guitars to a variety of back-up instruments and accompanying vocals. "Although it didn't disappear overnight, the spirit of the folk movement was gradually diluted," says UFO'S Lee. He adds, however, that the trend toward music with more popular appeal was not necessarily negative. Musicians began to compose more complex melodies and to deal with a wider variety of themes, paving the way for today's highly diverse pop music scene. "Commercialization doesn't have to mean a relapse," he says. "Compared with the campus folk songs, today's music is more sophisticated and more diverse. As far as I'm concerned, it keeps progressing."

But the image-packaging and heavy promotion that go along with commercialization have, also become very much a part of the music scene since the end of the campus folk movement. One of the biggest trends to follow, beginning in the late 1980s, has been the "idol singers." These stars are usually more a product of TV variety show promotion than of musical training, although some clearly have a knack for performing. The singers are very young, often under twenty, and appeal to a large adolescent following. Most of them stick with love songs and soft rock dance tunes, and their image is usually one of modest clothes, neat hair, and baby faces. They present themselves as good students and innocent in matters of love.

Originally inspired by a similar trend in Japan, idol singers have been around for at least a decade, but in the past they were usually female. Today the trend is clearly male-dominated. And their numbers are greater than ever.

Most idols perform solo, but a few groups have also been successful. The Little Tigers, a soft-rock trio of young boys, got their start not as singers, but as stage assistants on one of Taiwan's music variety shows. When young girls started flocking to the show's taping sessions just to watch the boys standing next to the program hosts, the producer decided they could be packaged as singers. When the Little Tigers undertook an islandwide tour to promote their first single in June 1989, all twenty-five concerts sold out, with total attendance at about 500,000. Many young fans even skipped classes to follow the group from venue to venue. One junior high student describes why the trio appeals to her: "They're good kids —and they can be so cool. I want to be like them: good at study and good at play."

After three albums, the Little Tigers temporarily disbanded two years ago when member Chen Chih-peng (陳志朋) had to begin his compulsory military service. The other two members, Su Yu-peng (蘇有朋) and Wu Chi-lung (吳奇隆) have continued releasing solo albums and have become known as two of the Four Little Kings of Pop. The other two "kings" are idol singers Chin Cheng-wu (金城武) and Lin Chih-ying (林志穎).

Some of the most popular idol groups are from overseas, although their main market is Taiwan. The Grasshoppers, for example, are a rock trio from Hong Kong who sing Mandarin love songs; Tokyo D is an eight-member Japanese group whose biggest hit is in Chinese; and the American-Chinese rap trio LA Boyz (see story on page 8) is one of the few idol groups who sing in Taiwanese, as well as Mandarin and English, and who bring Taiwan teenagers some of the latest California fashions and dance steps.

Many local idol singers also present a cosmopolitan image. Chin Cheng-wu, for example, capitalizes on his half-Japanese heritage. And the Party, a trendy seven-member group, performs American-influenced "hip-hop" dancing and upbeat Mandarin rap songs. "Idols represent fashion. What they want to present to their audiences are the latest international trends," says Lou Shiao-yun, who often hosts pop concerts and fan-club events. "That's why they bring in Western choreographers and dress up in international designer clothes —all these things add image to their music."

Recording albums overseas has become another way for singers to give their music an international quality. Although Taiwan has high-standard recording facilities, foreign recording artists and backup musicians can help give singers a fresh approach their music. And simply having the foreign name on their album can be a boost for her publicity. Idol singer Yineng Ching (伊能靜), for example, made a music video of her latest album in Britain and includes French lyrics in one of her songs.

More established pop singers, those who rely on their singing and composing talents rather than simply a packaged image, are also going overseas for new ideas. Chen Shu-hua (陳淑華), who is known for her Mandarin love melodies about unrequited love and life as a single woman, recorded the vocals for her latest album in the United States. Wu Ssu-kai (伍思凱) recently finished an album in Britain, where one of his studio musicians used a bagpipe.
Taiwan's pop singers, as well as fans, are also being exposed right at home to a greater diversity of Western music than ever before. Tower Records, which several years ago became the first foreign record retailer to open shop on the island, now has two well-stocked locations in Taipei. Another important source is the 24-hour music-video channel broadcast throughout Asia since late 1991 via the STAR TV satellite network, which is based in Hong Kong.

In recent years, big-name singers, from the U.S. and Europe have also started to include Taiwan as a stop on their Asian tours. Tina Turner, Michael Jackson, Bon Jovi, Duran Duran, and Sting are just a few of those who have appeared here, as well as singers from Japan, Australia, and Canada. The versatility stamina, and high-energy performing is a good lesson for local entertainers, a few of whom are just starting to give live concerts. Promoter Daniel Keng (耿繼光), who brought Sting to Taiwan this January, thinks international stars will have even more of an impact in the future. "They bring in new ideas and provide an opportunity for our performers to compare notes," he says. "And they also bring pressure on local artists, which hopefully will stimulate progress."

The international influences that are so important to pop music, however, do not mean artist in Taiwan are not fashioning their own ideas. Lee Tzu-heng who produces albums for both idol and long-term Mandarin singers, observes that a producer cannot simply copy a foreign style and expect to be successful. "You can adopt the most fashionable music from the States, but chances are, it won't fit the local singer," he says. "A producer needs to 'localize' it, to make it more suitable for our singers and more digestible in this market." He explains that the Little Tigers, for whom he has produced several albums, are similar to the American group New Kids on the Block (now NKOTB), but still they have a distinct identity. After picking up the latest American dance steps, for example, they adapt them to Chinese body language by avoiding strong muscle-bound movements and sexual connotations. They also avoid violent or sexually explicit lyrics, which don't have the same appeal among Taiwan's less rebellious youths. "They can express better what's in their own culture," Lee says. "They can't just imitate the brainchild of another culture."

Some performers, however, are even more consciously trying to create their own brainchild. For many Taiwanese-dialect singers, reflecting their own culture —by using the local language and local images and themes— is an essential part of their music, which developed out of the Taiwanese and Japanese folk ballad traditions of the early twentieth century. Singers such as Chiang Hui (江蕙 see story on page 14) and Hung Jung-hung (洪榮宏), the queen and king of Taiwanese pop, still sing about the lonely lives of bargirls and gangsters, about broken love affairs, and about the comfort of the bottle, much like the grassroots balladeers of old.

Although Mandarin pop music still accounts for the largest share of the market, Taiwanese songs have made tremendous progress since the late 1980s and are popular among a wider audience than ever. Alex Cheng (鄭穎祥), a manager at Tower Records, reports that Taiwanese music has seen the most substantial increase in sales of all categories in recent years. Today, political figures have found that singing a Taiwanese song when they appear at informal functions is a good way to win supporters. Some politicians who do not speak the dialect have even started taking language lessons in which Taiwanese songs are part of the teaching materials. "The stereotype that Taiwanese songs are only appreciated by the lower classes is collapsing," says DJ Lou Hsiao-yun, who for the past two years has devoted part of her BCC radio program to Taiwanese music.

The surge in Taiwanese-dialect songs is in part due to the lifting of language restrictions on radio and TV, which before 1993 were required to broadcast nearly all of their programs using only the official Mandarin dialect. But it is also part of a growing public pride in Taiwan's island heritage, a trend that started in the 1970s and has become even more prevalent today. The campus folk singers were part of the early manifestation of this trend, even though they sang in Mandarin.

With the new market, Taiwanese songs have begun to develop a far greater range of styles and themes. One of the first big Taiwanese hits in the pop music market was the 1984 "You'll Win Only If You Drive Yourself Hard," by singer-legislator Yeh Chi-tien (葉啟田). It was a high-spirited, optimistic song, far different from the melancholy Taiwanese tunes of old. According to Jyi Maa Records, the major producer for Taiwanese-dialect pop music, Yeh's song has sold more than 700,000 copies —and probably more than a million if pirated cassette are included. This song, along with Chang Hui's "My True Feelings Come Out After Drinking," are reported to be the most popular choices at KTV parlors.

Other Taiwanese singers are also presenting a more up-to-date image, one that is less conservative than old-time Taiwanese singers. Chiang Hui and Hung Jung-hung, for example, have revised the traditional Japanese style of ballad singing that they learned as teenaged performers by adding melodies and back-up music more similar to Mandarin pop music. In this way, they continue to appeal to older listeners, but have attracted a younger following as well. Other Taiwanese singers are going even further in trying new formulas —and, like Mandarin singers, adapting Western influences. Lin Chiang (林強), for example, became an overnight sensation with his 1990 album Marching Forward, which combines Taiwanese lyrics with rock music. His most recent album, The Entertainment World, was recorded in England and is even more experimental, combining elements of alternative rock and heavy metal.

Taiwanese songs now sell so well that many Mandarin-oriented record companies have started to join the act. Some established singers who do not even speak the local dialect have released Taiwanese albums in the last few years. One of the best-known is Chen Hsiao-hsia (陳小霞), whose lyrics are less earthy than in many Taiwanese songs and her singing style less affected.

Non-mainstream singers are also having an important influence on Taiwanese-dialect music, bringing to it a heavier rock sound and more socially conscious lyrics. Like the 1970s folk musicians, these performers have their main following on college campuses and they generally write their own lyrics, but their music is more experimental and uses a greater variety of instruments. The Black List, which first performed in 1989 at the New Music Festival, an event for Taiwan's alternative musicians, combined electric guitars and a loud, emotional style of singing in their Taiwanese album Song of Madness. They sang about the government's black list of political dissidents, Taipei's terrible traffic, local people who emigrate abroad, and the selfishness of modern society. "This was perhaps the first Taiwanese rock group specializing in social criticism," says Yingi Ho (何穎怡), a director at Crystal Records, which produced the album. According to Ho, sociologists consider the album an important cultural phenomenon. It has sold about fifteen thousand copies, which is extremely good for alternative music in Taiwan, and it has attracted considerable media attention.

The Black List broke up not long after the album was released, but former member Chen Ming-chang (陳明章) has remained popular on his own, releasing albums in 1990 and 1991 that were recorded live at campus concerts. His guitar playing is inspired by a variety of indigenous musical styles, including traditional ballads and Taiwanese opera. His lyrics are nostalgic, describing his experiences growing up in Taiwan. Jen Chiang-ta (任將達), the owner of Crystal Records, is very positive about the future of alternative musicians such as Chen, although the market for such music is now relatively small. "I think we've already discovered a mine for our future music," he says. "Who knows? Like the campus folk music, maybe this music will create a new trend in pop circles."

Whether Taiwanese or Mandarin, idol singers or alternative bands, pop music in Taiwan is definitely making its mark. Tsai Tsung-cheng of the Big Rock Production Company finds that local and international influences are both important inspirations and can work together, rather than contradict one another. "This combination of local and international has finally pushed Taiwan's pop music to its adulthood."