#10: September 2021
the best Mandopop of the month from oaeen's indie-pop restart to the new old idol normal to Rave Time!!!
China’s idol scene was starting to look a lot closer to what South Korea had. There were huge differences of course, but the introduction of survival shows changed the Chinese idol system. It was somewhat fresh to mainland audiences but resembled something more familiar to what international audiences had seen, turning a once individual-focused system into that which could allow groups to survive.
By now, everyone’s already got their thoughts in about China’s latest entertainment regulations. The biggest global headlines pull the attention away from the Chinese entertainment industry to focus its attention onto something more political: what the ban of effeminate males in idol circles means for Chinese culture as a whole or how the effects of these new regulations could impact K-pop. These changes are perhaps less likely to create huge waves across the Chinese idol scene, but it’s instead, the ban of survival shows that will impact Chinese idol entertainment.
The thing is, a lot of these changes aren’t really all that new. Most are reiterations to recent scandals—the big ones being the numerous allegations of sexual assault against Kris Wu and the surrogacy scandal but mostly tax evasion by Zheng Shuang. But China’s always had policies regarding the values of idols and as recently as March of this year, guidelines for how artists should behave were published to “establish a positive professional image for entertainers and promote the healthy development of the performance industry.” Even the banning of effeminate idols can be traced back to 2018, around the boom of survival shows, where TFBoys and NINE PERCENT were banned from public performances. Later, male idols were banned from wearing earrings.
But survival shows have been foundational to the changing trajectory of China’s idol industry. Survival groups like NINE PERCENT and UNINE have eclipsed their sources, with groups like NEXT and Mr. Tyger having practically become inactive after losing members to NINE PERCENT and UNINE, respectively. Groups start a different kind of fan reaction, they draw fans of not just one, but multiple idols, drastically increasing the size of their fanbases, but the interrelationships between members can drive further engagement from fans, from member interactions to comparisons between members. Things that can also spark tension among fanbases. The biggest question for the Chinese entertainment system is whether or not entertainment companies will continue to invest in groups, whether they can continue without the support of television. Groups like that are rare, groups like TNT, who focus on promotion as a whole rather than individually, with most splintering apart as one member gains immense popularity.
A lot of these policies—from ending survival shows to limiting how fanbases can interact—go back to curbing the unhealthy relationship between idols and fans. Some of them could actually be positive. The restriction on the number of albums an individual can purchase could hopefully curb spending among young fans, many of whom do not have stable sources of income. But could it also change the way companies manage their releases? Perhaps many will look to expand their audience, allowing artists to arrive onto global streaming platforms like Apple Music and Spotify. Maybe they’ll target markets other ways and be more global-minded in their production styles. Or perhaps, they’ll go on to release more music, as with many idols, music sometimes falls to the wayside as other activities take priority. Or maybe that’s just the wishful thinking of someone who wants to see more from the Chinese idol industry.
A lot of the focus is on things that can be political, things in place for a long time, gaining attention just now. But new regulations do appear to be sparking change and not just for groups. KUN’s album, 迷, was eventually released to platforms in complete, shortly after the announcement of the new regulations, dropping the final six tracks after a four-month-long rollout of the first five. It’s sparked a debate on the legality—and while I can’t comment on that, it does seem pretty scummy to ask fans to purchase an album, many of whom purchased multiple digital copies, without any details on when the full thing would be released, no? It’s clear that companies are taking action in response to these new regulations. Perhaps some of it is for the better, limiting what they take from fans, but for the fans of groups, those like the newly debuted INTO1 and IXFORM, it leaves C-pop’s future up in the air. Check out the best of September:
Albums
oaeen - Strange Pool
Sodagreen went out big. Winter Endless was received to critical acclaim, winning big at the Golden Melody Awards for lyrics, production, and arrangement and marked an end to one of the most ambitious projects in Mandopop, with the completion of their Vivaldi Project. The Vivaldi Project was planned as four albums over two years, each one about a different season, each one taking the characteristics of a different location: you can hear the humid heat and breeziness of Summer/Fever and the influence of traditional Chinese music on Autumn: Stories recorded in Beijing. Perhaps there was some uncertainty due to pianist A Gong’s conscription, but Sodagreen, did eventually complete their ambitious project and afterwards, decided to take a break, a chance to re-evaluate where exactly Sodagreen would go from there.
It turned out to be the end of Sodagreen. At least the end of Sodagreen under the name Sodagreen, the result of a legal battle between the band and former producer Will Lin. So Sodagreen (蘇打綠), or now, oaeen (魚丁糸), make the best of it, using the name change as a reboot, describing themselves as a completely different band. It’s a band in the process of letting go, as lead single “Start from the End” demonstrates, carrying bits of their old selves but asking to moving forward. “Start from the End” makes direct callbacks to Sodagreen, not just in lyrical passes to their previous albums, but also in sound, carrying the same warmth in its melody and grandeur in its arrangement. But Wu Qing-Feng makes a request to let that all go “set free all the pain and sadness,” proof that they could do it without producer Will Lin.
For all its familiarity, “Start from the End” never tells much about who oaeen are, which it turns out, often strays away from the mature image of Sodagreen. What oaeen is, what makes it different from Sodagreen, is probably best displayed in “我就是個樸實無華的Bass手” (“I’m just a modest bass player”), where the group takes a throwaway joke by bassist Claire Hsieh and turns it into a goodnatured interlude of sorts. “I’m just a modest bass player / I’m an expert at playing rests / playing two notes is a great way to earn money, don’t you think?” Spoken lines by Hsieh, sung lines by Wu, heavy bass rumbles—it’s not just carefree, but pushes their sound to be more electronic, contrasting to the orchestral arrangements of previous album Winter Endless.
One glance at the titles of singles “I’m weird” and “I Will Always Hate You” show that oaeen carry not just youthful energy, but oftentimes becomes downright childish. “I Will Always Hate You” runs its melody off a cliff, spacing out each syllable on the final words “I hate you,” before Wu retches a “blergh” onto the end. Unlike other tracks which focused their energy on the feeling of youth, its childishness feels like a direct response to their former producer. While Strange Pool’s lyrics engage with youthful feelings, the music tends to be heavier, the lightness of their previous albums abandoned for heavier electronic textures and bass rumbles. “Joyful Day” turns floating bubbles and a sweet sentiment into something of a threat, as each member goes harder and heavier, the line “every day, every night, you’re gonna set me free” coming laced with menace. “I’m weird” may space out into a mild reverie, just an acoustic guitar, keys, and Wu’s voice at its lightest, but the band quickly gives up the act of normalcy to launch back into weirdness amplified tenfold. “I’m weird” grows more discordant and unbalanced with each passing second, Wu’s voice slathered in autotune and falling off rhythm.
Still, there are parts to Strange Pool that still sound distinctly like Sodagreen. Part of that’s anchored on Wu Qing-Feng’s distinct voice, but there are also several tracks that take on arrangements that feel like Sodagreen’s style. “Sorry Youth” bids farewell to young romance, its tinge of regret and stateliness take away any of the childishness that existed on other tracks. Its lighter arrangement harkens back to something that could have come from Daylight of Spring. Meanwhile, “先說先贏” (“Talker say it first”) may engage in the same childishness of previous tracks, but its sound veers away from the electronic and eccentric version of what oaeen pushed themselves to become to sound like another group’s stadium pop.
Strange Pool is a group in reset, tending to spend a little too long bidding farewell to their older selves, but their step back into a more childish place of mind does nothing to curb their creative spirit. It lives in that childishness, tracing a youth of being the outsider, of the hatred you’d thought you’d outgrow as you got older, and on the occasion that they do act mature, the love you’ve come to realize you should’ve treated better. oaeen are at their best when they don’t try to contain the weirdness, when they let their tracks brim with chaos, and while that isn’t always the case on Strange Pool, it all comes back to closer “Start from the End,” that Strange Pool is merely just the start.
Find it on streaming here: Apple Music // Spotify
Singles: “Start from the End” // “I’m weird” // “Honey Ginseng” // “I Will Always Hate You” // “Sorry for Youth”
Songs
Jocelyn 9.4.0 - “Baby Blue”
There’s advice baked into the preschool chant of the pre-chorus: “babe if you got time for you / then I ain’t got no time for you.” Jocelyn doesn’t romanticize or lament the idea of the other woman, doesn’t even really consider it—she approaches it with empathy but also self-assertion, listening when he grumbles about his current partner but drawing solid boundaries when he makes a move. Its flat synths take everything in stride, content with where they are, neither an exuberant celebration nor a tear-streaked pity party. Instead, those synths absorb everything Jocelyn throws at it, from its casually spoken second verse to its overlapping ad-libs, and simply roll on.
drogas & mad love - “Rave Without Me :(“ // Losty, Motorolaboi & a bathing boi - “LETS RAVE!!!”
The Taiwanese collective Cyber Made loves autotune. They use it in slurred emo-rap to convey the kind of dead-inside sadness that only teenage heartbreak can bring. They use it in sparkling dance-pop to convey the ecstatic joy of a crush. And they use it to link together, sing-rapping over glitchy beats and video game noises to create a hyperpop cypher of sorts, until their voices become hard to distinguish, merely swirling into collective emotions, all joy and pain shared. The collective released a handful of singles as a loose sort of anniversary project at the end of the month, entitled “RAVE TIME!!!” It’s a collection of high-energy dance music, all of which ask you to continue the party, whatever the mood. Rave if you’re the king, rave if you want to get lost. Rave if your friends are around, rave if they aren’t. Cyber Made blur together through autotuned voices and blindingly bright backgrounds.
Fish Leong - “Today, Halfway to the Permanent”
Fish Leong’s latest EP, The Sonnet of Three Days, wraps the past, the present, and the future in its short three songs. Listeners familiar with Leong’s standards will probably recognize her most in “Yesterday, When Love Occurs.” Like most of her biggest works, it makes love sound like everything. “A little love can make the earth split and the sky open,”—just imagine what all the love she gave could do. It’s the sparsest arrangement, nimble keys and only the flash of an electric guitar. Then there’s “Tomorrow, The Dancing Duo,” which opens with the electric guitar before giving way to its disco beat. On “Tomorrow,” Leong lives in the moment, ready to enjoy everything that it has to offer: “one dance, two people, three minutes, how perfect.”
But for Fish Leong, the present doesn’t always feel quite so promising. “Today, Halfway to the Permanent” deals with the impermanence of experience, the love that, like her debut, Grow Up Overnight, ends with a bitter realization. “Today” meets itself halfway between “Yesterday” and “Tomorrow,” Leong not quite ready yet to be the person who dances day and night but also no longer the woman who believed love could do anything, like heal the land and sea. On the heels of her divorce, Leong finds herself in freedom and pain or as she puts it “frustration and enthusiasm.” Its music also finds itself halfway between “Yesterday” and “Tomorrow” a mix of acoustic guitars and electronic synths. It’s a gentle sway, not the rest of the past nor the bounce of the future. “Today” propels Leong forward while also allowing her to linger for a bit, to enjoy what it has to offer at her own pace. The Sonnet of Three Days sums up Leong for right now: “Yesterday” as who she thought she should be, the woman who believed love could be everything; “Tomorrow” as who she’d like to be, carefree; and “Today” as the woman who’s still processing, who saves half for herself so she never has to hurt that way again.
Find the Mando Gap playlist on Spotify here and me on Twitter here.