#1: December 2020
#1: December 2020
the best Mandopop of the month from Shi Shi's R&B to a cartoonishly fun debut to emo-rap
Mandopop is weird. They don’t play by the same rules as the rest of the world. Take a look at the end of last decade: by November 2019, every publication had already posted their end of decade lists. Most had already run their end of year lists by mid-December. Releasing an album in December, unless you’re a certain blonde lady on her second album of the year, tends to go unnoticed. But some of the best albums of 2019 — Mandarin or otherwise — were released at the back of December: Julia Wu’s 5 am and Chiu Pi’s LE MONDE were released on the 20th, while Astro Bunny’s 在名為未來的波浪裡 was released a week later on the 27th. They weren’t the only ones. Big names in Mandopop like G.E.M., TFBOYS’ Jackson Yee, and Sodagreen founder Wu Qing Feng all released albums. Golden Melody Awards’ big winner ABAO released the great kinakaian on the last day of the decade. Mandopop doesn’t seem to care about or even acknowledge the idea of “list season,” but instead, December seems to bring an influx of releases. It makes it the perfect time to start paying attention to Mandopop.
Mando Gap is a new newsletter focusing on the best Mandopop releases each month, a handful of singles and albums. I’m focusing on what’s widely available, releases accessible on all streaming platforms, but some Mandopop is fickle and inaccessible and some tracks are only available through Youtube. Hopefully, you find something worth keeping and sharing. Here are some of the best Mandopop releases of December:
Albums
Shi Shi - Where Is SHI?
On Where Is SHI?, nothing is enough. She traverses different forms of R&B and Shi Shi isn’t shy about mixing hints of soul, funk, and jazz. But Shi Shi seems to always want more. Its first single, the rock-inflected “Not Enough” repeated its title phrase over and over, never backing down. Shi Shi on her fifth record is a different woman. She dyed her hair back to black and got bangs. She’s more practical, more knowledgeable about what she wants and what she’s worth. The Shi Shi on Where Is SHI? is more grounded, her desires more realistic.
That’s not to say that there’s no playfulness to Where Is SHI? — “Me First” contains the same spry production that made “Tensions” such a joy, ending with Shi Shi and Trout Fresh erupting into a shared fit of giggles. Or “Empty Track” which lets its freeform instrumental run with its own imagination. But for a lot of the record, Shi Shi keeps her head out of the clouds, the piano keys and guitar licks dancing under her control. When she asks “do you think that there is realer love?” it’s from the ground, from someone given up imagining fantasies but above accepting a lesser version than what they deserve. That’s one of the most impressive parts of Where Is SHI?, how well Shi Shi manages to convey want, how the lament of “but he’s just not you” comes as desire, never as requirement.
Find it on streaming here: Apple Music // Spotify
Singles: “Not Enough” // “Give It to Me” // “Two of One (feat. HUSH)” // “Infected”
Accusefive - Easy Come, Easy Go
Accusefive released their second album on December 31, 2020. It was caught between worlds: the bleakness of 2020 that still pervaded other parts of the world and the kind of hope that 2021 seemed to represent across the world. The band themselves did what they could to seek comfort during the pandemic — they return home. Easy Come, Easy Go was recorded away from the studio using analog tape, away from the bustle of the world. That natural feeling permeates the record.
Easy Come, Easy Go seems to bloom open, first gradually, and then by the time you’ve realized, change has immediately taken over. There’s a search for stability that plays out through the record. Chaos reorganizes, things begin to settle. Cool intensity becomes warmth — you can hear it most distinctly in the difference in the way the horns are used on opener “醜人多作怪” versus title track “運氣來得若有似無.” That journey is heartbreak, the way “在這座城市遺失了你” collapses inward when the group sings “but I love you.” It’s relaxed joy, the open laughter of its title track. It’s warm. It’s also not without setbacks, as the group hides their heartbreak behind the tale of Wendy and Peter Pan on “溫蒂公主的侍衛.” The thrill is in its journey which the group finds when they delve into its final moments, blowing it up with their most frenetic track, stability merely a dream.
Find it on streaming here: Apple Music // Spotify
Singles: “新世界 (feat. ABAO)” // “運氣來得若有似無” // “在這座城市遺失了你”
HAOR - [Nonstop] (EP)
On his first independent release, HAOR isn’t concerned with presenting big statements. [Nonstop] isn’t some grand complex concept, but built around simplicity: four buttons, one song each. Songs are threaded loosely together and no song feels forced. Everything comes with a relaxed atmosphere, from the light funk of “Start It !” to the smooth and lazy coos of “Trial & Error.” Closer “Pause” is just as its title suggests: a rest, a recharge, a chance to do it all over again.
Find it on streaming here: Apple Music // Spotify
Singles
Sophie Chen - “Cabin Fever”
The pandemic’s effect on the music industry looks different depending on where you were. Cancellation of concerts and the movement to online performances, constant postponements of albums were found globally, but in Taiwan, things were different. On August 8, Eric Chou held a concert for 10,000. He wasn’t the only one. For Taiwan, strong preventative public health measures allowed them to continue — it’s why Mandopop was one of the few genres to thrive on the live stage.
Sophie Chen spent most of 2020 living in Canada. That’s why “Cabin Fever” feels the way it does, bleak with only the smallest hints of possibility—like living beside the US during a lockdown. Its dull guitar thrums create endless space, echoes that build that sense of isolation. Rising melodies always seem to come back to the same stagnant place. She rambles on thoughts and feelings everyone was familiar with during 2020, things that, we’ll still be familiar with in Canada well in 2021. “I guess the meaning of life is to chase whatever happiness is” Sophie Chen sings. It sounds defeated but glimmers with hope deep underneath. Maybe one day we’ll feel the second part too.
a-mei - “緩緩”
There’s a laziness to a-mei’s “緩緩.” Its background plays in coos and deep ripples. “Slow down” she murmurs, never pushing too far. “緩緩” is a beautiful fantasy, of summer afternoons by the water and lazy mornings with a lover.
CHIYO - “Superwoman”
The first chorus is a confident little brag, establishing Japanese-Chinese CHIYO as an older-sister figure, the kind of cool you want to be. But the second is a neat little trick, inclusiveness that never plays down to you but pulls you up. There’s a bright confidence here, the kind that lets her get away with doing the most: the exclaimed space between the “wo” and “man” and the second verse’s “super我們” pun. Instead, corny is cartoonishly fun. CHIYO’s just that cool.
K!ddingboi - “Dear, Rosie!”
December saw a couple of great Mandarin emo-rap releases, but none of them boasted the line “I’m falling into the hoe” nor managed to sound as smooth, melodic, and breathless as K!ddingboi.
see also: Bu$y, Ye!!ow & Paper Jim: “Love Song 2020” // Goatak: “Tell me, what is luv”
Tan Weiwei - “Xiao Juan”
Tan Weiwei did the impossible — she made western media write about a Mandopop song. “Xiao Juan” is the highlight of her great album 3811, a track that references the cycle of domestic violence by women through specifics, real cases, the very real women who lost their lives to domestic violence. It’s a slow march, a call-to-arms. For Tan Weiwei, the name “Xiao Juan,” isn’t good enough. “Know my name, remember my name” she sings. The chorus isn’t autotuned for anonymity, instead, using the layers to represent every woman, to build Tan Weiwei into a symbol. Her voice is unwavering. “Xiao Juan” is a towering, defiant protest.
Western outlets felt the need to comment on it — BBC, The Guardian — Vice even created a Mandopop tag for it (guess how many other articles have been tagged as Mandopop on Vice). They laid out the gruesome details of the real-life incidents of domestic violence Tan Weiwei references in the track. “Xiao Juan” is emblematic of English-language coverage of Mandopop: it wasn’t enough that Tan Weiwei created a brilliant album in 3811, both musically and conceptually, instead, the West needed to latch onto specific references and build their own political narratives around “Xiao Juan” before they deemed Mandopop worthy of coverage. Tan Weiwei broke the Mandopop barrier and for a moment in time, she had the world paying attention.
Find the Mando Gap playlist on Spotify here and me on Twitter here.