This week Live Wire begins with a tribute to the Beastie Boys and Adam Yauch, aka MCA, who passed away on May 4, and a recollection of the Beastie Boys’ appearance at the Tibet Freedom Concert in Taipei in 2003.
The last time I saw the Beastie Boys was in Taipei when they came here in 2003 for the Tibet Freedom Concert. I have a fond memory of that show, not because they were particularly great (their performance was spirited and fun but nothing mind-blowing), but because seeing them reminded me of a milestone in my own life: my first ever rock ’n’ roll concert.
I was 12 years old, living in the US, and ridiculously excited that the Beastie Boys were coming to Columbus, Ohio, which was near my hometown. The year was 1987, and like every MTV-watching teenager across the US, I knew every line from every song on their album License to Ill, which had just come out, scandalized suburbia and pushed hip-hop into the mainstream.
Photo by Ania Lucid, Courtesy of Gaba Kulka
My first concert turned out to be quite the eye-opener. It felt surreal to be able to see my heroes, Ad-rock, Mike D and MCA, on a stage in the flesh, as opposed to seeing them prancing about in MTV videos. Then there were other memorable firsts. It was the first time I had experienced punk and ska played live — the opening acts were Murphy’s Law, a hardcore band, and Fishbone. It was also the first time I had ever seen a woman bare her breasts in person: on stage, there was a go-go dancer in a cage who took her top off during the show.
My memory of the music that night was eclipsed by the Beasties’ stage antics. From offstage, roadies would toss cans of beer to the band members, who would take a gulp, and then fling them into the audience. As the show ended, a life-size inflatable penis shot up from a trap door on stage.
My friends and I could barely process it all; we just cackled and laughed as youngsters do. (Our oldest chaperone was my friend’s 15-year-old brother, and his parents, who drove us to the concert and were nice enough to wait in the car in the parking lot.)
Photo Courtesy of Shun Kikuta
I went home secretly confused, but outwardly reeling with excitement, and I had a few controversial mementos in tow. Against my better judgment, I brought home Beastie Boys-branded T-shirts that read “Get Off My Dick” on the back for our neighbors’ children, who badly wanted to go the show but couldn’t get tickets. Claiming it was the “Christian thing” to do, their parents burned the shirts. My mom sewed a patch on mine.
These memories came flooding back 14 years later as I stood amongst some 12,000 revelers in Taipei at the Songshan Cigarette Factory (松山菸廠) watching the Beasties perform. Of course, this being a Tibet Freedom Concert, the obnoxious prankster spirit that burned in my mind from the Beastie Boys of 1987 was nowhere to be found. Instead, the atmosphere was full of positive vibes. Tibetan expats got in free (it was a novelty to see so many monks in robes at a rock show, especially in Taipei). And it seemed like every single hippie backpacker in Asia was in town.
The Beastie Boys breezed through a mash-up set of their greatest hits. They looked a bit stiff, as veteran aging rockers often do, but they grooved and the audience did, too. Just the fact that they were in Taipei was exciting enough.
Instead of DJ Hurricane, it was Mix Master Mike. Instead of Fishbone and Murphy’s Law opening, it was a monk, dubbed “Tibet’s Michael Jackson,” who played the flute and Taiwanese indie pop band Tizzy Bac. Instead of a striptease from a go-go dancer in a cage, DPP legislator Hsiao Bi-khim (蕭美琴) offered a limp rally speech before the Beasties’ set. (I cringed when she told the crowd “Let’s fight for our right to party”). And instead of a big inflatable penis standing at the back of the stage, there was a Tibetan flag hanging in the backdrop.
But I also realized one thing: I never outgrew the Beastie Boys because they were always a step ahead. Before I started to truly appreciate the art and craft of good hip-hop music, they had come out with Paul’s Boutique, an album ahead of its time. Before I understood that a good band follows its creative whims, they went back to their punk roots on Check Your Head.
And before I had an awareness of places like Tibet, and Buddhism for that matter, the Beastie Boys were sampling Tibetan chants on Ill Communication, an album that my friends and I listened to throughout college. And it was clear that MCA had matured, as he rapped about his personal devotion on the track Bodhisattva Vow, declared that “Mother Earth needs to be respected” on The Update and called for an end to “the disrespect to women” on Sureshot. And it never seemed overly preachy because his delivery felt genuine. The sublime beats and grooves helped, too.
When I think about my first encounter with live rock ’n’ roll, I will always think of the Beastie Boys. And now when I think of how rock (or take your pick of music genre) can help people to grow — and let them have fun while doing it — I will also think of the Beastie Boys, and especially MCA.
Polish singer-songwriter/pianist Gaba Kulka, who has been in Taipei for the past several weeks teaching a course on songwriting at the National Chengchi University, paid tribute to MCA by slapping together a cover of his song I Don’t Know, one of the better tracks from Hello Nasty. It’s worth checking out, and you can hear it on her Web site (gabakulka.com). Kulka, who performs at TAV Cafe on Sunday, has a voice and attitude that bring to mind artists like Kate Bush and Tori Amos. But her musical imagination spreads a little wider — one of her recent albums is a tribute to Iron Maiden — and her repertoire includes a recasting of the Clash’s London Calling, a clip worth finding on YouTube.
■ 8:30pm Sunday at TAV Cafe, 7 Beiping E Rd, Taipei City (台北市北平東路7號), tel: (02) 3393-7377 X207. Admission is NT$300, which includes one drink
Speaking of high caliber music, Taipei-based Japanese blues guitarist Shun Kikuta will be playing with his trio tomorrow night at Bobwundaye. Kikuta, 44, spent his formative years in Chicago, and served as the guitarist for the late legendary singer Koko Taylor for nearly a decade. Kikuta also sings, and while Japanese-accented English might seem out of place for a blues vocalist, he took up singing after some prodding from another blues legend, the singer and harmonica player Junior Wells, who Kikuta toured with for six months in the 1990s.
Kikuta told Live Wire that Wells tried to get him to sing one night while on tour. Kikuta protested that he didn’t speak English well enough. The Chicago bluesman’s reply: “Don’t worry, my English isn’t good either, but I can sing the blues.” Wells taught Kikuta his song Little By Little, which is now a standard in Kikuta’s repertoire, and one the audience is bound to hear tomorrow at Bobwundaye.
■ 9:30pm tomorrow at Bobwundaye, 77, Heping E Rd Sec 3, Taipei City (台北市和平東路三段77號), tel: 02-2377-1772. Admission is NT$300
Get your fusion on tomorrow night at Sappho de Base, which is hosting top-notch keyboard/bass/drums jazz outfit Musa’s Trio. The group, formed by two Argentines and a Brazilian, splits its time between Taiwan and China as professional session musicians. The trio’s love of a good groove is infectious, and if you’re in a mood for funk tomorrow, then you don’t want to miss this performance.
■ 11pm tomorrow at Sappho de Base, B1, 1, Ln 102, Anhe Rd Sec 1, Taipei City (台北市安和路一段102巷1號B1). Admission is NT$200
Last week Joseph Nye, the well-known China scholar, wrote on the Australian Strategic Policy Institute’s website about how war over Taiwan might be averted. He noted that years ago he was on a team that met with then-president Chen Shui-bian (陳水扁), “whose previous ‘unofficial’ visit to the US had caused a crisis in which China fired missiles into the sea and the US deployed carriers off the coast of Taiwan.” Yes, that’s right, mighty Chen caused that crisis all by himself. Neither the US nor the People’s Republic of China (PRC) exercised any agency. Nye then nostalgically invoked the comical specter
Relations between Taiwan and the Czech Republic have flourished in recent years. However, not everyone is pleased about the growing friendship between the two countries. Last month, an incident involving a Chinese diplomat tailing the car of vice president-elect Hsiao Bi-khim (蕭美琴) in Prague, drew public attention to the People’s Republic of China’s (PRC) operations to undermine Taiwan overseas. The trip was not Hsiao’s first visit to the Central European country. It was meant to be low-key, a chance to meet with local academics and politicians, until her police escort noticed a car was tailing her through the Czech capital. The
April 15 to April 21 Yang Kui (楊逵) was horrified as he drove past trucks, oxcarts and trolleys loaded with coffins on his way to Tuntzechiao (屯子腳), which he heard had been completely destroyed. The friend he came to check on was safe, but most residents were suffering in the town hit the hardest by the 7.1-magnitude Hsinchu-Taichung Earthquake on April 21, 1935. It remains the deadliest in Taiwan’s recorded history, claiming around 3,300 lives and injuring nearly 12,000. The disaster completely flattened roughly 18,000 houses and damaged countless more. The social activist and
Over the course of former President Ma Ying-jeou’s (馬英九) 11-day trip to China that included a meeting with Chinese Communist Party (CCP) leader Xi Jinping (習近平) a surprising number of people commented that the former president was now “irrelevant.” Upon reflection, it became apparent that these comments were coming from pro-Taiwan, pan-green supporters and they were expressing what they hoped was the case, rather than the reality. Ma’s ideology is so pro-China (read: deep blue) and controversial that many in his own Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) hope he retires quickly, or at least refrains from speaking on some subjects. Regardless