#6: May 2021
#6: May 2021
the best Mandopop of the month from Dizzy Dizzo's charismatic hip-hop to rap posse cuts to a broken-hearted indie demo
A recent outbreak in Taiwan has left a big part of the Mandopop scene facing uncertainty. Delays are already starting: waa wei’s previously announced Have a Nice Day, set to be released on June 3, was pushed back to the end of the month, while Julia Wu’s much-teased, still-yet-to-be-announced album is left up in the air, without any concrete plans for release. Who knows how many other projects, singles, events will have to wait?
Perhaps one of the biggest announcements was made by Taiwan’s Ministry of Culture: the indefinite postponement of Taiwan’s 32nd Golden Melody Awards. Last year’s award show was delayed until August, the pandemic perhaps having led to a some of the greatest uncertainties the Mandopop scene’s ever faced.
While we spend the next few weeks, months, hoping for the best in Taiwan, the postponement also gives us a renewed chance to catch up on Taiwan’s music scene, time to check out some of the best of last year (check out the list of nominees and links here).
So first, what are the Golden Melody Awards (GMAs)? Well, the GMAs have been touted as Taiwan’s GRAMMYs, and while that perhaps gives you a rough idea of what they are, an awards ceremony for music of some sort, it’s not quite accurate. Firstly, the GRAMMYs, although they tend to award a very specific group of Western pop musicians, often tend to pretend they have some global-minded focus. They then go on to miss the mark in two aspects, overlooking some of the best domestic releases and representing only few non-English albums, often pushed into a World, or sorry, Global category, where there’s room for only five albums. Taiwan’s GMAs are better in this respect. By not pretending to be global, but rather, celebrating Taiwan’s music scene—Not the larger Chinese music scene, but Taiwan’s—in recent years, they’ve done a better job at painting a picture of Taiwan’s music scene.
Secondly, the GMAs are unlike the GRAMMYs and other award shows in how they let the indie-sphere and pop-sphere bleed into one another. The GMAs are a mostly genre-agnostic affair, main categories based around language rather than genre to form really interesting groupings. In this year’s Mandarin category, there are different versions of more classic Mandopop sounds like Wanfang’s Dear All, Hebe Tien’s Time Will Tell, and WeiBird’s Sounds of My Life. But there’s also Shi Shi’s adventurous R&B record Where Is SHI? and hip-hop artist Soft Lipa’s Home Cooking, which perhaps best represents how the GMAs have let these indie- and pop-spheres bleed into one another, a record only available in full through physical formats. Likewise, in the Best Aboriginal Album category, you can contrast the textures of 瑋琪’s almost coffeeshop-esque žž with Sangpuy’s more naturalistic Gain Strength.
So where do you start? Well, that’s the fun part! Listen to Olivia Tsao’s 自本, which is tied with Sangpuy’s Gain Strength, for the most number of nominations at eight nominations each. Or check out FALI’s 929, nominated in the Best Vocal Group. Or put on deca joins’ Birds and Reflections and let yourself drift into it. That’s the thing, there’s no correct or best starting point, so take a chance, have fun with it!
If you do want some direction, I might suggest the Best Band and Best Vocal Group categories, featuring groups that straddle the line between pop and indie in the Taiwanese spheres, blending genres at will, from the dark heaviness of OVDS’ Tough & Blackness to the warmth of Astro Bunny’s electronic-tinged pop ballads. And you can’t go wrong with the Best Music Video category. If Mandopop is all about story-telling, then the music video is an essential component and all these videos deliver. Perhaps later I’ll put together a sample playlist, or we’ll talk more about these records somewhere. Check out the best of May:
Albums
Dizzy Dizzo - SKY
Last year, when I was talking about the Taiwanese music scene with a friend, she introduced me to Taiwanese-Australian rapper Dizzy Dizzo. Maybe less so in relation to her music, more so in relation to her relationship with Taiwanese-American actor Sunny Wang, later sending me both their Instagram profiles. Because that’s how Dizzy Dizzo and Sunny Wang have been defined in the past few years since they married, the wife of Sunny Wang and the husband of Dizzy Dizzo. They’re the it-couple and it’s at least a role Dizzo seems to wear proudly, describing herself in her Instagram profile as a mother first, a wifey second.
That’s how SKY opens: “I’m the better half, the boss wifey,” Dizzo repeats, fast and frequently, wearing the word like a badge of honour. But while the beat may be simple, bubbly like a glass of champagne, Dizzo presents herself with a bit more complexity of “Wifey.” She raps about making her own money, maintaining her honour, and even throws in an announcement to “wear a mask well and keep it on, social distance so you don’t wash your hands for nothing.” Her charisma is on full display—when she raps the line “when my haters text, yeah, I keep ‘em in the garbage,” she stretches out the word garbage like it’s good fun.
The rest of the album is mostly a full extension of that same confidence Dizzo displays on “Wifey,” and mostly an extension of those same party-ready bubbly trap beats. Much of Dizzo’s confidence comes in her roles as both a wife and a mother, like when she opens “Mama” with the line “okay, just finished breastfeeding”—but that same confidence comes in her other roles, like the knockout it-girl, the hot girl who jets off to Dubai and Paris while you’re hanging onto her Instagram. She uses three of the biggest hot, young male, Taiwanese acts, all of whom straddle the line between R&B and hip-hop. On lead single “What a Life,” she uses ØZI in what she describes as “a subversion of expectations where a woman raps while the man handles the hook.” And use him she does! ØZI acts as an anchor as she delivers quick-paced raps around him, but more symbolically, Dizzo uses these features to help re-establish her relevance in the scene after her hiatus. That confidence is always at the forefront, and even when Dizzo sounds reflective, she’s never doubtful. Occasionally, SKY relies too much on Dizzo’s confidence rather than its production, and parts of the second half seem to lose much of their spirit, the trap beats flattening out.
Dizzo’s charisma makes you admire her for lines that would sound corny by any other Mandopop star. She’s the hot girl you could never aspire to be, but also the one you can’t help but admire. Sometimes, her charisma isn’t quite enough. The opening to “Trash Talk” when she raps “I got a hunnit motherfuckers tryna lash out” sounds more like a second-rate version of Nicki Minaj on “Beez in the Trap” than the woman who made being the boss wifey sound like a real thing. But sometimes, confidence truly is everything. On the 90’s hip-hop-influenced “天大地大” when she finishes the track with a pleased “唱完” (finished singing), you can’t help but feel impressed. That’s how SKY feels: despite its shortcomings, you just can’t help but feel impressed by Dizzy Dizzo.
Find it on streaming here: Apple Music // Spotify
Singles: “Trash Talk (feat. E.SO)” // “What A Life (feat. ØZI)” // “Tides (feat. OSN)” // “Wifey”
Singles
Lilylu - “Pray For Me (feat. BRAD)”
Everyone loves synthwave! In January, Lexie Liu did a weird take on it, mashing the nostalgic sound with her apocalyptic vision and incorporating rock sounds and a chanted bridge. Hong Kong’s Tsang Lok Tung took the sound for a rather straightforward but breezy spin. Even Taiwan’s EggPlantEgg merged their indie rock sound with synthwave for the theme song to the film When A Man Is In Love.
But while EggPlantEgg use their synthwave for nostalgia, and other artists like Tsang Lok Tung and the various K-pop artists dabbling in the sound shoot for a sleek, modern feeling, Lilylu’s is perhaps most like Lexie Liu’s. Both aesthetics are rooted in apocalyptic visions of the future, and both are bold in their experimentation, pulling from other genres. “ALGTR” may have incorporated pieces of rock into its verses, but “Pray For Me” pulls from another direction, BRAD’s autotuned verse sounding like a synthwave background layered behind an emo-rap track. And where Liu channeled Gregorian chants on her bridge, Lilylu’s chorus feels almost operatic in nature. It’s interesting to watch how East Asia has so easily adopted these retro aesthetics that gained traction in the West, but it’s even more interesting to watch them adapt it to their own, to incorporate the weirder elements rather than simply riding under the wave.
Four Pens - “You Save Me (feat. miaou)”
Is there a defining characteristic to Mandopop? A sound that makes something Mandopop? Maybe not, but the reverse is likely true, that specific sounds exist only in Mandopop. Some of these are probably captured under the term of zhongguofeng, the merging of traditional Chinese music and ideologies into modern pop music, but there are other things that simply feel Chinese. The same way a specific pattern of speech might only exist in one language, vocal patterns might only exist in Mandopop. In “You Save Me,” there are sounds, perhaps, sound off in the Western context, out-of-tune. Maybe you can hear it best in the intonation of the chorus when Four Pens’ vocalist Candace Hsu’s voice curves around the words “你說我很勇敢” (you say I’m brave), or maybe in the way second vocalist Bibo Kang almost clashes with Hsu, the pair singing together, yet not quite in harmony. Despite the feature from Japanese band miaou who brighten the arrangement with twinkling cascades that highlight the song’s sense of gratitude, Hsu and Kang’s vocal intonations leave it feeling very specifically Chinese.
PANTHEPACK - “TRANSMIT”
The Mandopop scene has seen a rise in these rap posse cuts, seemingly heavily invested in collaboration, perhaps to introduce rising artists or to capitalize on existing fanbases as is the case of NoLabelCrew’s “Stone Heart” featuring Youth With You 2 contestant NINEONE and Korean rapper pH-1.
But here’s a new one, Team Wang’s PANTHEPACK, four artists hidden behind anonymity. Everyone who cares knows this is Jackson wang’s project via the Team Wang label. And many invested in the Mandopop scene have already easily identified the three others: Chinese rapper ICE, who previously collaborated with Wang, Taiwanese R&B artist J.Sheon, and the Chinese-American Karencici. Thanks largely to that trio, “TRANSMIT” has surely become one of Wang’s best non-GOT7 efforts (barring LMLY, which: everyone loves synthwave!). Wang wisely relegates himself to hook duties, while the other three blur the lines between hip-hop and R&B over the track’s trap beat: J.Sheon’s smooth voice a nice contrast to ICE when he’s doing either the autotuned or heavier style and Karencici’s instantly recognizable voice provides a second hook, perhaps even more infectious than Wang’s. The three are there for perhaps another purpose (the anonymity really isn’t doing anyone any favours): to do things Wang himself can’t manage himself.
see also: “DNA” // Tizzy T - “少数派报告 (feat. VaVa, Jony J, bridge & BooM)” // Mai - “Stone Heart (feat. pH-1 & NINEONE)” // MJ116 - “Sweet Baby” // Grøøvy Wave - “Playboy”
Ryan Lin - “Sad Jianguo Rd.”
Back in March, Ryan Lin released “Sad Jianguo Rd.” to Youtube and Taiwanese platform StreetVoice (think similar to Soundcloud, a platform for independent musicians to upload their work). Somehow it went viral and in the past few months, it’s been taken off his own account, replaced with an official version licensed by YOYOROCK and according to StreetVoice, “Sad Jianguo Rd.” has taken the highest volume of traffic in 2021 so far.
“Sad Jianguo Rd.” reminds me of Korean indie rocker, Parannoul. It’s ostensibly different: Lin’s track lacks the complexity of anything off To See the Next Part of the Dream, despite both sharing the same feeling of a DIY recording, instead buoyed only by a guitar and Lin’s vocals and lyrics. But the pair remind me of the way something can achieve virality, for better or for worse.
While To See a Dream was met with acclaim, “Sad Jianguo Rd.” is being met with large parts adoration, large part scorn. Many have a problem with the performance, how poorly made it sounds, whereas others flock towards that feeling, that heartbreak that Lin conveys so desperately. But “Sad Jianguo Rd.” is captivating. It’s captivating by the way Lin breaks off-key, how raw and unedited those feelings come across. How at his loudest he sings “if you really have to go, can you bring me too?” yet at his most reflective, he sings, quieter this time, “I know you have to go and leave me alone,” slowing the track’s pulse, letting the truth surface. It’s about the love of your life just getting up and leaving you, moving onto something better. The subject might be different than Parannoul’s, but the emotion just as heavy, felt just as strongly. Those feelings come across only through Lin, through the way his voice crackles off towards the end, the type of thing you won’t find from artists who’ve polished their work so immensely like WeiBird. That’s the appeal of “Sad Jianguo Rd.,” a demo likely recorded on someone’s phone by two students who didn’t quite know what they were onto, but it works because it conveys its feeling so powerfully. After all, who else can start crying during their debut performance to raucous cheers?
Find the Mando Gap playlist on Spotify here and me on Twitter here.