Making music in a foreign land

They came together under the maternal eye of Nipa Bamrungpong, the proprietor of a cavernous restaurant and dance hall out in the depths of industrial Hsinchuang. It is not the sort of place that music lovers might think to congregate. But then, Phukhieo Thai Band (泰國山水樂團) make music primarily for themselves, and their performance this Sunday at the Fnac Cafe is probably the first time they will have been heard by an audience that is not made up predominately of Thai workers on a Sunday knees-up.

All the members of the Phukhieo Thai Band are part of Taiwan's body of Thai "foreign workers," whose lives are heavily circumscribed by strict regulations as to their freedom of movement. For this reason, Bamrungpong's restaurant only opens on weekends, because "for the rest of the time, they are not so free to come out."

The band first came to the notice of Trees Music and Arts director Chung Shifong (鍾適芳) last year when the band outclassed pretty much all the other participants in a Bureau of Labor Affairs-sponsored concert for foreign laborers in Taiwan. This was the first event of its kind, and Chung said that the band's appearance at Fnac will be a chance to confront middle-class Taiwan audiences with something that is a conveniently ignored reality of their society.

While none of the performers of Phukhieo Thai Band are professional musicians, virtually all have grown up with music. "It is part of their culture," said Suwan Chongvatanapornlert, the only member of the band not from Thailand's impoverished northeastern provinces. "Life for them is very hard, so they use music to create enjoyment."

The leading spirit of the band is Montree Buttakhieo, the guitarist, who has a generally irreverent attitude to both music and life. A slightly more ideological aspect to the music is provided by Nat Singha, the lead singer, who sees the music they play as an affirmation of identity in a similar vein to the music of Carabao, who became one of Thailand's best-known bands despite -- or because -- their music has been banned by the government as being subversive.

There was nothing overtly subversive about the band during an interview in their rehearsal space, where enjoyment of the ballads from their homeland mixed in with some heavy-metal riffs and native rhythms are the ruling mood. "It is a way of expressing our thoughts of home," said Montree, as band members broke out a bottle of Thai whiskey.

This comment might jar with the heavy pop/rock influences evident in the music for anyone expecting lilting mountain ballads or folksy roundelays from the band. But it really isn't that surprising when the effects of historical musical influences are taken account of, Chung pointed out. "Much local Taiwanese music reflects strong Latin influence," she said, adding that the west influenced Thailand in a similar way, even though politically the country resisted colonialism.

Musically, Phukhieo Thai Band certainly have their limitations, partly due to the limited time work allows them, "It is difficult to get the same kind of internal cohesion that local bands can," Montree said. For all that, despite the incongruous Mini Mouse and Daffy Duck decals attached to the stage at the rehearsal space, there is a kind of raw garage band power to their work that is likely to sound a somewhat discordant note in Taipei's industrial heartland in the center of its yuppie East District. Organizer Chung Shefong wouldn't have it any other way.