#13: December 2021
the best Mandopop of the month from Tia Ray's full ode to the moon to punk rap to an outdoor wedding soundtrack
Hi! Happy new year and welcome back! If you’re new and wondering where Mandopop went last year, you can check out my end-of-year albums and singles coverage.
Despite my best attempts to diversify these lists, they still represent the opinions of one person. I’ve mentioned before that I have some blind spots—especially in terms of what’s actually viral—but that also doesn’t really cover my own personal preferences. Which is fine for a personal list, but becomes difficult when you want that list to represent an entire genre. And it’s difficult to fill in the gaps with other lists as they don’t really exist, Mandopop coverage is too limited to really do much aggregation.
Charts like QQ Music from China or KKBOX from Taiwan can be useful for picking up on the biggest tracks but trying to figure out what’s well-received critically is a more difficult task. To do it, you can use Douban, which even for those who don’t understand Chinese is somewhat searchable (especially if you have the help of Google Translate).
Douban functions as a sort of catch-all for media: books, movies, television, music—like if someone combined GoodReads, IMDb, and rateyourmusic into one platform. It was founded in 2005, and well, still looks the same. While rateyourmusic and Album of the Year have some catalogue of Mandopop music, they tend to be pretty narrow as the sites were designed for English-speaking users, and so Douban—with some caveats—remains the best place for discovering and exploring Chinese music. It’s a great place to look at how Mandopop singles and albums are received by Chinese music nerds.
Last week, Douban published their end-of-the-year lists, which are unfortunately limited to top ten lists, but cycle through a couple of categories, including genre, month, and even an exploration of music form 10-50 years ago.
Unlike rateyourmusic, Douban is (mostly) restricted to Chinese users, so it can be used in a bit of a way to examine their tastes. From their end-of-year lists, you’ll note a specific brand of Western pop tastes from the popularity of Lana Del Rey (at #4 and #7), and similarly glowing reception for artists like Taylor Swift and Adele. FloruitShow’s What Can I Hold You With, makes the list at #6, but you’ll also see praise for things I didn’t include in my lists: from idol group TFBOYS member Roy Wang’s Summer Time to indie-rockers Wu Tiao Ren’s Half True, Half False, and the choral group Shanghai Rainbow chamber Singers’ The Star River Tavern, A Rediscovery. Xiao Xia’s X II A O barely makes the list after being released in December. On their EP/singles list, Utada Hikaru’s “One Last Kiss” (rightfully) tops the list as the best. There’s lots to discover just from Douban’s end-of-year lists alone, both in Mandarin and non-Mandarin music alike.
There are, however, some caveats to using Douban. For one, the site is in dire need of a redesign. Not even just aesthetically, but navigation across artist profiles is basically useless and the “other people also liked” feature tends to just show more from the same artist, making discovery more difficult than it should be.
Secondly, these aren’t really just the tastes of people acquainted to Mandopop, but the tastes of Chinese internet users. And so, often, some nationalism is at play, and I tend to find releases from Taiwan score lower than releases from China. At least there is some broadness to perspectives, and you’ll see varying scores from different artists occupying the same spaces: Roy Wang manages to top the list whereas INTO1 and IXFORM see lower scoring releases (however, differences could also be related to fanbases. Additionally, Douban responds to the latest Chinese celebrity gossip in the way you’d expect: following Meng Meiqi’s latest scandal, her EP, 岐义双瞳, dropped from a score of 8.1 to 6.9 in the week following and the comments are… not positive!
Finally, like any Chinese platform, Douban is subject to the same censorship rules. After Namewee and Kimberley’s “Fragile” was banned, the two were blocked off the site, and searches of either lead to nothing.
Douban’s also a wonderful way to look into the alternative music scene in China, a wonderful way to keep up with releases. It remains the most comprehensive and still somewhat accessible place for non-Chinese speakers interested in keeping up with the latest Mandopop. If you’ve got some time, I highly recommend taking a look through their end-of-year lists and just exploring the website.
This month, I’ve got two albums from Tia Ray and Shallow Levée, as well as a couple of singles from L8Ching, Karencici, and Wolf Pacc. You can also check out more from the Spotify playlist here.
Albums
Tia Ray - ONCE UPON A MOON
The moon plays several roles for Tia Ray. In the pained confession of “I’m Not Good,” it was her confidante, listening as she howled through a torrent of rain. In “Emo Whiskey” it was the bartender, the glow filtering through her room like the ambience of a dimly lit club as every word felt like the sting of pleasure against her lips. And it was her wingman on the delectable “Harmony,” highlighting her with a spotlight and brass riffs. But the new version of ONCE UPON A MOON, the full version that she retitles as the “deluxe version” on international streaming, extends it into something bigger, at twelve tracks, ONCE UPON A MOON is the full version of what Tia Ray intended it to be.
Tia Ray’s always felt like she was on the verge of crossover. Her collaborations range from Chinese artists like Will Pan or the ever-present Jackson Wang to American ones from Gallant to Jason Derulo to Kehlani, even turning the last one from a co-write to a Mandarin feature. Both her and her label both saw the potential for crossover, recording her second album TIARA in both Mandarin and English version, and while it ultimately never panned out the way they planned for, it left Ray in a position of fluidity, able to switch not just between languages but also genres, a feat she pulls on the full ONCE UPON A MOON as she comes into her own as a fluid pop star.
Like those first three tracks, the later ones are also similarly informed by the moon: “Dance to the Moonlight” glistens, everything in view existing just to support Tia Ray and Nigel Tay as they shyly engage in a new romance on a cloudless night. The scenes shimmers, reflecting two young lovers dancing by clear water, giggling as they play in its outro. Soft drums that pad across the water and the careful tick of time that makes their romance feel treasured, the scene feels possible only because of the glow of the moon. Even as Ray strays away from the R&B and looks toward bigger, poppier production, the cosmos are in her focus. On “TIVA000,” before you hear her big diva moment in the autotuned scream of “no need to wait” or the slick dance beat, the first thing you hear is Ray launching herself into space, finding herself a brief reprieve from all the pressure in the company of the moon. The futuristic beat of “Super” dissolves into a cosmic solo stage for Ray’s R&B while on “Gravity” she finds herself a home in the stars and uses the moon to recenter herself through its slick beat.
There’s a long history of Chinese people relating to the moon, but Ray goes beyond its tradition, not just reading it like Teresa Teng did to let it represent the fullness of her heart, but deeming it as a friend. She waits for it to wax before she begins the seduction on “Harmony” and looks for the full moon to begin the new romance of “Dance to the Moonlight.” She’ll draw confidence from it on “Gravity” but also treat it as the only friend who could understand her on “I’m Not Good.” On closer “Circle,” a young girl shouting “look! the moon shines,” and just like that, Tia Ray lets her into her own mythology and tradition of the moon, in drawing courage from it, letting it be her own confidante rather than drowning alone in sorrow, and attempting to share its space.
Find it on streaming here: Apple Music // Spotify
Singles: “I’m Not Good” // “Emo Whiskey” // “Harmony” // “TIVA000” // “Little Too Much”
Shallow Levée - Endless Playlist
A wedding spurs Endless Playlist into motion. Tsai Yi-Ling, Shallow Levée’s vocalist, composer, and lyricist, sings about the future, the stories the wrinkles that’ll develop on your face could tell as she unpacks, and about the past, the history you’d need another lifetime to redigest. She tends to see poles rather than focus on absolute truths: “some are well-intentioned, some are unintentional.” “You’ll laugh, you’ll cry,” she sings, before faltering to fill in the rest of the line “you are born worthy of…”
Like so many other “indie” bands that find themselves on the verge of the mainstream (Accusefive, deca joins, and Heat Sketch), the inexperience and emptiness that occasionally touched Shallow Levée’s debut are replaced, production rounded out to sound fuller where it needs to. So when “Blessing” unfolds, it sounds graceful: first the intentional sparseness of Tsai alone on its stage, then the rolling melodies that itch to go further, and finally, when Tsai answers that line to say “you are born worthy of happiness,” celebration. The brightness spills out of “Blessing,” at its biggest moments dotted with electric squiggles and raucous cheers. But there’s also a quiet grace in the outdoor wedding of “Blessing,” its melodies like a wafting breeze and production that teems with life, the trickle of water that flows past.
Across the wedding, Shallow Levée are bent on living in the moment. They search for happiness and offer kindness. “West West Side” dances in the sunlight, while on “Jellyfish Float” as the sun goes down, Tsai loses herself in the ringing guitar tones. “I know you tried your best, no problem,” she reassures her bandmates and sucked into its whirlpool dances as they play. It’s a song she describes as “written after drinking too much during the wedding,” its production a mild party as the guests begin to trickle out. Elsewhere, on “Let Me Sit Here with You,” she joins another guest, offering company from one coward to another. “You will be happier if you are comfortable,” she sings, the roundness of the Taiwanese language adding warmth to her kindness and sure enough, as the band begins to play, it descends into casual, friendly, comfortable conversation.
Endless Playlist constantly searches for happiness. It pieces it together in the familiar moments, in comfortable conversation and dancing under the sun. But it occasionally gets caught in the sadness of weddings, in the realization that others are moving far from you. The liveliness of “Jellyfish Float” disappears at its end as the edges fray into dissonance like a singed memory. Tsai slips out the back while the band continues its easygoing playing on “See Through the Dark,” the tears she saved through the day spilling into the night. By its end, Tsai learns to embrace the changes as they come, accepting her life as is on closer “Another Long Afternoon.” It sets itself long after the wedding on an ordinary afternoon, after the rush of ecstasy and the pangs of inadequacy the wedding brought to just sit in comfort with her and another. Here, Shallow Levée embrace contentment, letting the feelings come to them.
Find it on streaming here: Apple Music // Spotify
Singles: “Blessing (feat. HUSH)” // “Warm Welcome” // “Jellyfish Float” // “Get Busy Living”
Singles
L8Ching - “Relax (feat. EMMA)”
A vacation to sunnier destinations, “Relax” keeps it breezy backed by a light drum setup—all other instruments used only as occasional flourishes. Stuck in-between singing and speaking, L8Ching’s voice is a morning meditation that makes waking up to see the sunrise sound desirable while EMMA’s voice brings a warmth as she urges you to just “chill a little.” Their harmonies bring just the lightest touch, letting you sink into it like dipping in a hot spring. When friends join into a chorus of “I love my life,” it feels welcomingly earnest, something to aspire to rather than something to spurn.
Karencici - “99% Angel”
“99% Angel” is a pure sugar rush. When Karencici claims “99% of me is harmless,” it’s a lie posed by the proclaimed 1% of her and every part of the brisk track is just another attempt to get your heart racing—the tantalizing innocence she poses with on its verses, the instant gratification of its hooks, and that runway beat that makes you feel like the prize—just waiting for you to give it a taste. She claims to be “just like candy, so sweet” on the front face of the hook but then appeals to the carnal desire within you, its sticky darker hook of “eat it up” is less sweetness and more like someone who knows how to leave you constantly craving for more. She knows just one lick will have you addicted.
Wolf Pacc - “Wolf Pacc”
Over fuzzy punk guitars, every move from the duo of rappers and NXWV labelmates Peatle and SiNNER MOON is an act of violent contempt. Peatle raps with careful precision off the top and his battle cries are chosen to strike the most fear (“three times the number of wolves still on the way”) or draw the most from the crowd (“total berserker domination, race into the battlefield”). But where Peatle shows control even amidst its bleary instrumental, SiNNER MOON raps with an unhinged edge, biting at whatever until it culminates with a bellowed: “I’mma go rage.” Where the instrumental made Peatle sound like a leader of thousands, it lets up just enough for SiNNER MOON to really sell the moment. Wolf Pacc are destructive, their name rounding out into “我呸” (“wo pei”), a spit of derision to anyone who might question them.
see also: HowZ - “Early Morning” // SOWUT - “BUZZ LIGHTYEAR”
There are, for some reason, a lot of albums that get released in December and I spent a lot of time this month just trying to choose what to cover, so below are twenty-one great albums from China, Taiwan, and Hong Kong, not necessarily in Mandarin. Enjoy!
Find the latest Canto Wrap and Mando Gap playlists on Spotify and me on Twitter here. If you’re looking for selections from last year’s playlists, I’ve made an archive of them here.