The Hsu-nami
The Four Noble Truths
DGS (大吉祥整合行銷有限公司)
The Hsu-nami is a six-piece rock band from the US with a trick up its sleeve: the music’s main voice isn’t a singer, but rather the erhu (二胡), or two-string Chinese fiddle, played by 28-year-old band leader Jack Hsu (許正杰).
Hsu, who was born in Taiwan and moved to the US at age 12, brought his New Jersey-based band to Taipei last year to play at Spring Scream. This paved the way for local recognition and the Taiwan release of 2009’s The Four Noble Truths, which hit store shelves here a few months ago.
The Hsu-nami’s all-instrumental music ought to resonate with those who like virtuosity, melodrama and, perhaps most importantly, loudness in their rock music. Metalheads will be energized by the double-kick drums and screeching guitar licks on the title track, which brings to mind a homegrown head-banging band that also uses the erhu, Chthonic. Fans of Japanese animation are treated to a version of the theme to the TV anime comedy Jubei-Chan, which has all the drama of a video game soundtrack.
On Temple Song, Hsu demonstrates the solitary, mournful tones that the erhu is known for. But for all the solid performances from the musicians, this tune plays like a bland, generic Chinese rock song. The band’s energy translates better on the rollicking Passport to Taiwan, a medley of Taiwanese folk and pop numbers that includes the classic Waiting for the Spring Winds (望春風).
The Hsu-nami also seems to thrive on fusion, which works well on Moonlight, a ballad that mixes elements of smooth jazz, traditional Chinese music and rock, with a Latin beat thrown in on an interlude. Luxy NYE, which is about a failed New Year’s romance at the Taipei club Luxy, gets funky with guitars wah-wah-ing the beat away, while Hsu’s traditional-sounding Taiwanese melodies on the erhu lead the way into a symphonic rock jam.
Even before its maiden gigs in Taiwan, The Hsu-nami had already honed a reputation for making instrumental rock with a distinctly Chinese twist. The album closer, Rising of the Sun, a rousing, hard rock stomp, was the official song for China’s basketball team at the 2008 Olympics in Beijing.
The band is scheduled to play in Taiwan at Spring Scream (read Friday’s edition of Around Town for full coverage of the festival).
— David Chen
Sunset Rollercoaster (落日飛車)
Bossa Nova
Self-released
Contrary to the title, this album of guitar-centric rock is anything but bossa nova music. Yet there is a breezy, effortless feel to Sunset Rollercoaster’s (落日飛車) full-length debut that makes for fun and satisfying listening.
This Taipei indie rock trio hops between different styles, riffing on a predictable list of modern rock heroes and genres. Listeners will hear strains of the Velvet Underground/Lou Reed (Bomb of Love), Brit-rock (No Man’s Land), the Strokes (Punk) and the White Stripes (Pinky Pinky, Blues).
But there’s a bit more than mere idol worship happening here. A balance of talent and inventiveness makes Sunset Rollercoaster a standout among its peers in the scene. Lo Zun-long (羅尊龍) is a skilled drummer with a deep funk sensibility that fuels the band’s peppy, propulsive heartbeat. His playing is busy and intricate, but he knows how to create and yield space, which is crucial for a band with one guitarist, and more importantly, he and bassist Kevin Lee (李柏澔) always keep a solid, clean hold on the beat. The Doors-esque Hogi Hogi La La Jo and the hurried No Man’s Land demonstrate the band’s songwriting whimsy.
Lead singer/guitarist Tseng Kuo-hung (曾國宏) sings all of the album’s 12 original tracks in English, a task he pulls off fairly well. Tseng’s wry vocal delivery, which nods to Lou Reed’s melodic drone, sounds natural and unaffected.
Though his heavy accent generally doesn’t get in the way of the music, Tzeng’s lyrics can come across as too oblique and occasionally unintelligible. Still, there are plenty of nice moments of pop simplicity on such songs as the blues rock number Little Monkey Rides on the Little Donkey (“I’m so worried, that’s why I need some blues/Oh, baby, here’s a story about why I need some blues/Trying to satisfy you, yeah, baby that’s my blues”) and the sedate soul ballad I Know You Know I Love You, which is a clever song.
But aspiring to poetic heights isn’t Tzeng’s top priority — it’s clear that the band loves to rock out first and foremost, which it does with aplomb.
— David Chen
Anthony Neely (倪安東)
Wake Up
HIM
It took three years for American-Taiwanese singer/songwriter Anthony Neely (倪安東) to transform himself from a virtual unknown to a pop star who moonlights as a movie star. The performer could have settled for manufactured music. Instead, he wants to be taken seriously as a singer/songwriter.
With Wake Up, his second album, Neely proves he is a soulful singer with a penchant for edgy material. Rather than serving up an easy-to-swallow pop confection, he embarks on a musical journey that explores existential angst and confusion.
The title track pairs Neely with red-hot producer Skot Suyama. Together they deliver a dynamic rock anthem that rails against malaise and stagnation. Even with his limited understanding of Mandarin, Neely earns points for having penned the song’s Chinese lyrics.
On The Rescue (救命), Neely digs into the darker terrain of his anguish and breaks out the throaty vocals to match.
The album’s highlights come early. A Failed Attempt (失敗的分手), composed by the same people that were responsible for his hit ballad The Last Embrace (散場的擁抱), sees Neely, with a softer vocal timber, donning the persona of a romantically dejected prince. In Puppet (魁儡), he achieves a Brit-rock psychedelic dazedness and mixes anger and tender vulnerability.
Other notable songs include Awakening (一覺醒來), the album’s lead single, whose lyrics were written by Faye Wong’s (王菲) long-term collaborator Lin Xi (林夕). Though the track’s sentiments seem beyond Neely’s years, he delivers them with sensitivity.
— Andrew C.C. Huang
Landy Wen (溫嵐)
Landing
Seed Music
Despite delivering hits such as Rooftop (屋頂) and Fool (傻瓜) with entrancing magnetism, the charismatic Mando-pop songstress Landy Wen (溫嵐) has yet to establish herself as a crowd-drawing star. And that’s after a decade in the business.
While she jazzed up her sultry image on 2007’s Heat Wave (熱浪) and flirted with electronica on 2009’s Dancing Queen, Wen is now trying on yet another persona by positioning herself as an Aboriginal pop queen and dressing in an ethnically inspired feather gown on the cover of her sixth album, Landing.
In what has been described as an “ethnic pop” (流行民族) style, Wen mixes Aboriginal sounds with Mando-pop.
In the lead single Ayo, she blends R ’n’ B, electronica and Aboriginal folk tunes to create an innovative hybrid number, and on Naluwan, penned by Wen herself, she mixes Mandarin with Aboriginal languages to forge a mid-tempo, easygoing celebration of life. These valiant attempts, though refreshing, fall short of the genre-defining heights achieved by Chang Hui-mei’s (張惠妹, better known as A-mei, 阿妹) Aboriginal alter ego Amit (阿密特).
The best moments arrive with the ballads in which the pop siren engages listeners with her signature poignancy and warmth. In Hand Print (手印), she delivers an inspirational ballad about familial love, while on other tracks, such as Can’t Stand But to Forgive (忍不住原諒) and Non-Stop Tears (淚不停), which was penned by Vincent Fang (方文山), she sings the lyrics with a confession-like delivery.
Despite Wen’s physicality and glamorous sex-goddess looks, what she truly excels at are emotionally riveting ballads about unwavering love. Perhaps she should stick to those, instead of wandering off into uncharted territory.
— Andrew C.C. Huang
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