#52: Take Your Time
on Lu Yun's debut album, which polishes his blend of singer-songwriter, folk, and pop with some unexpected detours on the path to twenty-five
I got a temporary “promotion” a couple months back and every day, it turns out it the worst thing that ever happened to me—cannot wait to get my old job back. Forever playing catch-up now. Here’s me on Lu Yun’s cute debut album and some singles by Fifi Rong, Crispy, Lian Huaiwei, and Xiao Yu.
Lu Yun - Take It Slow, Take Your Time
For four years now, there’s been a demo version of the track that leads off Lu Yun’s debut album floating around on Taiwanese platform StreetVoice. “I want to prove / what I’ve invested in / will be rewarded with some sincerity,” the singer hums on the title track, a stark contrast between the funeral-like manner in which his voice treads ground versus the warmth of the supporting piano melody. The modified album version drops the accompaniment and amplifies the vocoder effect. While the original was already steeped in melancholy, its inclusion here feels less like joyous celebration than bittersweet commemoration.
Despite the inclusion of several reworked demos that stretch back years before the singer was even signed to his current label, Take It Slow, Take Your Time feels patiently considered. “Pause II,” the first track Lu uploaded to StreetVoice appears here with a luxury refurbishment. The composition remains largely untouched, all comfortable piano and wanting vocals, but there’s the resonant sound of a cello gliding through the arrangement that gives the singer’s melancholy a touch of added gravitas. It’s not just expensive reworks. Lu’s debut was preceded by a handful of standalone singles that found him honing in on this blend of singer-songwriter, folk, and pop. The album’s first two proper tracks wouldn’t be out of place on the big-budget pop sheen of his forerunner WeiBird.
It’s tempting to deride the press release description of Take It Slow, Take Your Time being this largely uncategorizable work. It mostly sounds like standard singer-songwriter done well, but Lu is at his most captivating while toying with specific outside influences. There’s his rough approximation of a K-pop track in “Nerd Like Me,” where he hops on a booty-shaking bassline and whines a little “neomuhae neomuhae” (“you’re so mean!”). “Nerd Like Me” pushes Lu’s attitude into impudent territory but the singer doesn’t let any genre experiment stray too far from his familiar sound, retaining his characteristic traits: “We” cites the metal subgenre djent as an influence but the distorted guitar appears from the orchestral arrangement with only a third of the track remaining. It swirls around the singer’s calm vocal before he lets it loose into pummeling guitars and choral vocals for just a moment. As quickly as it arrives, it retreats, the singer back in his familiar comfort zone as soon as the next track starts. And as compelling as the song sounds, it’s djent as easy listening.
On the title track, Lu suggests that time would only offer reward. Look beyond the hardship implied in his voice and he submits that patience must be met with something better. It’s affirmed by the singer’s career arc and reiterated on “Zone,” as he coaches “trust yourself.” He drags his feet on the chipper “Bugtato” and the potent “Send Tree Pay” tips a breaking point: “that insufferably arrogant face of yours / makes me want to smack you!”
You might expect fireworks for Take It Slow, Take Your Time’s finale, but here, he settles into something more curious. “Distance gradually erases our memories,” sings Lu on closer “Now a Stranger,” a message typed and deleted before he locks his phone and pockets it once more. “I can’t escape the ravages of time / we once cherished each other.” It’s not misery but openness, the singer sounds fond on its wordless refrain, the possibility of reunion left extended. Likewise, “0207” is Lu’s most affecting song for how he turns anguish into something gentle. The date, marked by grief, ends with the singer swapping pain for reassurance: “I believe you’ll still be here…. forever in my heart” That ending might be final but what’s important remains close.
Listen here: Apple Music // Spotify
Singles: “Pause II” // “Send Tree Pay” // “Can’t Help It’s You”
Lian Huaiwei - “Greedy”
Over punchy synthetic new jack swing drums, Lian Huaiwei pleads rather than commands. “I need you and I can’t wait,” the former IX FORM member calls but his suggestions come with wide puppy dog eyes: “let’s spend the night together / just stay out with me tonight,” he begs. The submission might be ill-suited for a stronger performer, but immaturity cuts through Lian’s nasal tone. His self-description as “greedy” feels like proper teenage romance.
Xiao Yu - “Don’t Forget to Forget Me”
Xiao Yu plays a long-standing second act trope: the man so pathetic, he believes himself undeserving of his own lover. While its piano accompaniment can feel somewhat trite, the anguished intro, only partially isolated from the hustle and bustle of the street is brilliant, a snapshot of lived-in desperation. Then there’s the build to nothing, the off-balance clatter of drums, the fluttering flute melody at the singer’s lowest. “If I could do it all over again, I’d rather we never met / just pass each other by and let one another be,” he sings, his voice wavering with poorly concealed obsession. It’s comforting to know that as far as the truisms go, this is a contest the singer is sure to lose.
Crispy - “Love, Love, Love”
Is this it? On “Love, Love, Love,” the married couple are practically at their grandest with syrupy strings that suggest ballroom dancing after everyone else has gone home—a life that’s altogether… completely dull. Released in commemoration of the indie pop duo’s fifteenth anniversary as a band, the path sounds too calm, the cadence in Skippy Lu’s sigh of love is sweet but rather boring. But then he shakes the stillness with a gamble. The hook is a reminder of the young confession as an impossible venture, eventually morphing into a promise for the future. Though the outro walks on that same flat exhale, this time, it breathes a more invigorating reward.
Fifi Rong & Dayvd - “Epilogue”
Fifi Rong has been teasing an upcoming album, Endless Summer, with a string of singles produced by Argentinian musician Davyd since last year, the pair’s sound tending towards sultry and rhythmic. Previous tracks have focused on small movements—on “Fuego,” her rebirth is previewed in minute uplift, while she directs you to “slowly come closer” on “Body Language,” her voice barely rising above the reggaeton beat. “Epilogue” might consider present-tense movement in gradual motions but sounds off on everyone’s positions: “it’s love, it’s a dream / earth, heaven / it’s you, it’s me,” she reflects. Over the aggressive, jerky instrumental, the words start to crumble together, the positions tangled together. Rong’s gaze turns back in resistance of the predetermined.
Extra Listening
Here’s me playing catch-up… two of the best Chinese rap albums this year aren’t on Apple Music, which is why I put them on a listen later list and completely forgot. Goblin Prince’s 吴卫红 (Wu Weihong) is dedicated to his late mother, who was diagnosed with colon cancer earlier this year and passed away a couple months after diagnosis. Xie Tianyou’s 蛮荒生活 (Wild Life) is a concept album inspired by the 2014 Argentine-Spanish film, Wild Life.
A couple years back, the folk singer Lo Sirong found herself captivated by Ling Yu’s poetry and decided to adapt them to song. She sets each tale of a woman, a daughter to stunning freak folk in her first Mandarin album in years.
Much prefer Quanzo doing soft-boy pop over his rapping—thankfully that’s what he’s got going on here. The best songs on here are the singles: perhaps the best Chinese Afropop imitation and “nicotine, caffeine, and you,” one of those big, sweet, syrupy songs to soundtrack a corny teen flick.
NexT1DE, the group produced on Chuang Asia 2, made their debut a little while ago and have been gradually adding tracks to their debut album, One Heart, New Adventure! There’s a couple bright moments, but “Take It Easy” might just take the cake.
Peggy Hsu is teasing a new album, Sorrow’s Resting Hollow, out September 22. Get a taste of it with the title track here.
Find the latest Canto Wrap and Mando Gap playlists on Spotify and me on Twitter here.