#2: January 2021
#2: January 2021
the best Mandopop of the month from Lexie Liu's sleek dance-pop to decidedly queer pop to a compilation featuring music from the Yi ethnic group
China hasn’t quite found success when taking on the idol pop models of other East Asian countries. Copying South Korea’s idol group system has resulted in underwhelming performance. They’ve suffered losses when attempting to replicate Japan’s AKB48 model, with two of four sister groups disbanding in the past two years. While most groups find limited success, idols tend to find garner greater attention individually. Look at Xiao Zhan of XNINE—Zhan quickly became a mainstay of the Chinese entertainment system because of his stint on The Untamed while XNINE hasn’t really been heard from since. For comparison’s sake, let’s look at the difference in sales: XNINE’s second mini-album Keep Online reportedly sold approximately 440,000 copies, while Zhan’s solo single album Spot Light reportedly sold over 48 million. Zhan seemed to skyrocket beyond his group’s fame. China’s latest venture, Produce 101-style survival shows, seems to build temporary idol groups that simply function as vehicles to promote individual idols. Take NINE PERCENT whose second album was composed of nine solos, one for each member as they reportedly couldn’t align their schedules. Even Chinese idols under the South Korean system, like Lay and Victoria of EXO and f(x)-fame, return to China as soloists, finding greater success. Perhaps there are other reasons for it, but it seems to expose a preference for individual idols over groups within the Chinese market, a marked difference to other East Asian regions.
It’s worth noting that this isn’t a complete look at the Mandopop scene but purely within the mainland Chinese scene. The predominant pop force in Taiwan isn’t really idol pop; however, like the rest of East Asia, it might be changing. Taiwan’s explored the same possibilities of reality competition groups with DD52 (Dancing Diamond 52), which has sparked two idol groups, winners G.O.F (Girls on Fire) and the too-popular-to-chop PINK FUN. It’s yet to be seen how these groups will impact the industry, but they’ll definitely be interesting to watch.
Anyway, like the rest of the world, January is a lighter month in Mandopop. This month’s issue mostly comes from individuals who subvert the idol image—most aren’t actually idols but thinking about how they align and contradict the idol image provides a nice constant. Additionally, as a side note, I’ve got a Spotify playlist here that’ll be updated monthly with the tracks here and more tracks I’ve found during the month that I think are deserving of a listen (it’ll also be linked at the bottom of every issue). Check out the best of January:
Albums
Mitchell Zhong - Ladies & Gentlemen (EP)
“Ladies & Gentlemen” is a statement in a reintroduction. If you knew anything about Zhong, forget it all and let them reintroduce themselves, here and now. When Zhong steps out onto the dancefloor in the song’s music video, they’re flanked by two dancers (both portrayed by Zhong): one man, one woman. Then there’s the true Zhong dancing in the center, combining both styles. That’s how the song “Ladies & Gentlemen” works as well. Zhong doesn’t firmly reject any one gender role, but instead, accepts pieces of the masculine and feminine until the track climaxes with a casually confident “I am They.” It’s backed by a luxurious but muted disco-beat, adorning Zhong’s confidence without detracting your attention. With “Ladies & Gentlemen,” it’s a whole new Mandopop scene.
Zhong is an openly bisexual beauty vlogger. They don’t have a writing credit on the project, and instead, it’s the product of a smaller pop machine. Mandopop veteran Sandee Chan serves as the executive producer while other musicians who exist at the borderline of pop and indie work behind-the-scenes, including YELLOW, Enno Cheng, and Evan Yo. They succeed best when they lean bigger and brighter, like on the title track or the weird “nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn,” which uses the noise of a dying engine to mimic the anxiety of society. But the rest doesn’t present itself to be quite like the statement Zhong makes in the opener. Ladies & Gentlemen tends towards different shades of balladry, from EDM melted into R&B to the acoustic strums of the calming Hokkien-language ballad “It’s Raining.” While closer “I Feel Free When I’m Saying the Truth” begs the question: what truths is Zhong trying to convey? Zhong might not have those answer ready quite yet, but Ladies & Gentlemen makes itself out to be a pleasant listen nonetheless.
Despite significant strides, LGBTQ+ representation from Taiwan is still limited. A year after Taiwan became the first Asian country to legalize same-sex marriage in 2019, one article asks you to celebrate with LGBT anthems performed by three straight artists. There’s good reason for it, given that there are already few openly queer artists in the Taiwanese music scene, including HUSH and Enno Cheng, most of whom aren’t really adopting queer aesthetics, whereas Jolin Tsai proudly depicts the wedding of two women in her music video for “We’re All Different, Yet the Same.” But it still feels like a disappointing snub against the queer community all the same. An artist like Mitchell Zhong, performing songs that adopt queer ideas within music videos that confidently portray their queer aesthetics feels like a shift, and along with other artists like Lai, represent an exciting new direction for the Mandarin-language music scene that’ll be exciting to watch.
Find it on streaming here: Apple Music // Spotify
Singles: “I Feel Free When I’m Saying the Truth” // “Ladies & Gentlemen”
Lexie Liu - Gone Gold (EP)
East Asia seemed to love The Weeknd’s “Blinding Lights.” South Korea had several big “Blinding Lights”-rip-offs: this one was by one of the biggest girl groups in Asia, this one was a bid to enter the North American market, and this one was for the players and the haters. With “ALGTR,” Lexie Liu makes a big case that “Blinding Lights” had just as big of a moment in mainland China (which has to be true if douban is anything to go by). Her take is its weirdest iteration yet, a mash of asynchronous elements. The way the English and Mandarin lyrics align borders on non-sensical, the synths are inflected with a rock-edge, and the way the melody jumps could have been dissonant. It’s propulsive, a giddy little taunt and a call to “Hi-Tech it.” It’s also her best single yet. (It’s also worth mentioning how it reminds me of the aesthetics of two of my favourites from last year Sharon Kwan’s “Don’t Ruin My Makeup” and Jasmine Sokko’s MADE IN FUTURE EP, but Liu’s ambition goes far beyond both.)
In many ways, “ALGTR” is a rejection of Liu’s earlier sound, moving away from the rap and R&B genres that made her popular. But it still remains rooted distinctly in Liu’s style. Her version of synthpop isn’t so much nostalgic yearning but looks forward to the apocalyptic vision of the future she’s worked so hard to build. The rest of GONE GOLD lives up to “ALGTR,” expanding her palette but never straying too far away from her signature style. Liu works what she describes as “new friends” into these tracks, blending EDM, classical, new wave rock, and weirdest of all, a haunting Gregorian chant that bleeds into the deep throbs of the body of highlight “SHADOW.” Liu straddles the line between dance-pop and her weirder instincts, simultaneously appealing to the mainstream and rejecting it. “L” is her poppiest product, melting digital coos into its pulse, completely demanding your attention. GONE GOLD is the product of a woman in complete command—best demonstrated on the twinkling “CAROUSEL” when Liu flips between commands to speed it up and slow it down under the guise of what you’d like.
It’s also interesting to look at the way Liu works with language—compare the English and Chinese titles: the Chinese title of “ALGTR,” “有吗炒面” might translate to a grammatically weird version of “do you have fried noodles?” but can be better transliterated as “yǒu ma chǎomian” or “you macho man,” the ridiculous taunt she drawls at end of the track’s chorus. She does it elsewhere, on “猪猪锤” (“CHU CHU”) or “zhūzhū chuí,” a rough transliteration of “chu chu train.” Her titles show Liu as someone more concerned with the tonal characteristics of words rather than focusing on the meaning behind her lyrics. It’s a big reason why she manages to blend English and Mandarin lyrics so fluidly. In the video for “ALGTR,” during the baroque pop-influenced bridge, the words fade to the side of the screen—they’re not meant to be understood as much as they’re meant to be felt, like a spiritual chant.
Liu’s vision is distinctly her own. She’s always overshadowed her surroundings, whether it was on The Rap of China, another Chinese reality competition show, or the ever prominent label 88rising, which she almost immediately (and thankfully) left to establish her independent label Nixie Music. The project was written solely by Liu, co-produced by Radio Mars. It’s informed completely by her style, a kind of futuristic, online vision that’s always at the forefront of her work. Liu always manages to mold herself into the production, each part working in complement, neither overshadowing one another. Even on the shapeshifting remix “GO PSYCHOTIC!,” Liu manages to fold her whispered verses directly into its atmosphere. GONE GOLD carries her distinct vision of an online dystopia, better than before and Lexie Liu just might be the future.
Find it on streaming here: Apple Music // Spotify
Singles: “ALGTR” // “A BABEL CAT” // “L” // “CHU CHU”
Singles
Vinida - “Love Is Blind”
Vinida charts a similar path to Lexie Liu. The pair both appeared as contestants on the second season of The Rap of China and like much of GONE GOLD, “Love Is Blind” creates some distance from the former hip-hop sound towards smoother R&B. But the difference is that where Lexie Liu looked to the future, Vinida falls into retro stylings, swaying across the track’s groove. There are more pieces of Vinida’s former hip-hop sound here than there were in Liu’s work, working to stop “Love Is Blind” from falling completely into nostalgia bait. The spoken bit on the tail of the chorus delivers the line “cause I’m a just meet a wonderful little goldfish” with a bit of a wink, while the rapped bridge brings the track out of the funk it starts to spin into after the instrumental takes over. Most of the song might just be a build to that doo-wop inspired chorus, where Vinida can belt “baby please be kind to me,” but with a chorus that big, who really minds?
LÜCY - “Cactus”
On “Cactus,” LÜCY envisions circles. Her lyrics run in loops, repeating over and over, never really meeting their endpoint. The acoustic guitar strums follow a cyclical pattern, the electric guitar rings like windchimes. At its climax, where it adds background vocals and the guitars build louder, they never burst the bubble around “Cactus.” It’s a dreamy piece of pop music, buoyantly supporting LÜCY, who even in her dreams is constantly waiting. “You’ll lead me home,” she sings. It’s the only lyric that doesn’t have to be repeated again and again, the only thing LÜCY trusts to happen.
Zhang Zi Ning - “Light House”
Zhang Zi Ning was previously a member of the temporary project girl group Rocket Girls 101, formed on, you guessed it, another competition TV series, Produce 101 China. Zhang Zi Ning is an idol—she’s trained under the Chinese idol system and continues to follow the rules of idol culture. There’s even a fancam of her performing this track. “Light House” is a relatively standard track, a bouncy EDM-ballad, safe by any pop rules. Its drop isn’t anything boundary-breaking, merely a chance for her to pause singing and dance like the idol rules dictate her to do so. And perhaps there’s not quite a piece of idol culture pandering as the lyric: “you have me here.” The English lyrics don’t quite work (“you will see I will back”), but “Light House” is so warm that its EDM-balladry feels just right.
see also: Meng Jia - “Glass Wall (feat. VAVA)”
Steelo - “依果波”
“依果波” is a sparkling R&B ballad. Steelo sings about his hometown, about mountains and rivers. “I have you in my heart wherever I go,” he sings. It’s a sincere expression of gratitude for his hometown and carries the warmth and affection of the place you love the most.
Steelo’s “依果波” was written as part of the “Between Heaven and Earth National Music Project,” a collection of songs from various ethnic minority groups across China. Because China’s more diverse than anyone would have you believe. It’s perhaps the most accessible starting point to the project. The project was first started in 2019, aiming to create a cross-national collection that showcases multiple musical styles produced alongside accompanying micro-documentaries. Its first project is composed of songs by the Yi ethnic minority group, one of China’s largest ethnic minority groups, totalling approximately nine and a half million across China. Like the rest of the project, “依果波” is a welcome invitation to learn more about another culture.
“依果波” (yī guǒ bō) isn’t meant to be read in Mandarin but acts as a stand-in transliteration of the Yi language for parts of the chorus, Steelo repeating words that translate to “follow me home.” It feels distinctly rooted in his culture—if you listen closely, you can hear the quiet background woodwind instruments that flutter in the background of the second verse. Deeper into the bridge, you can hear the call-and-response between two woodwind instruments. It’s invitational and when Steelo switches languages, it feels right. It feels like coming home.
Find《彝·式感 (「天地间」 民族音乐计划)》on streaming: Apple Music // Spotify
Find the twelve-part documentary series on the Yi people《云深之处》here: Youtube (however, note that currently, only Chinese subtitles are available)
Find the Mando Gap playlist on Spotify here and me on Twitter here.