For the last decade, Taipei’s punk scene has been pretty dead, while the metalheads have just cliquishly brooded in their own musical corner, kind of like they would at any high school. But then earlier this week, I got into a conversation with my Shida music dudes about how indie-rock kids are once again developing some creeping affections for hard, heavy, guitar-crunching bands. It might have to do with bombastic, high-energy shows by touring legends like Napalm Death, and it might also have to do with bands inching out of old genres and finding new cross-over crowds. That’s what seems to be happening with a new wave of bands, who are turning their backs on post-punk, postrock and shoegaze and instead making a conscious effort to look, act and sound “very rocker.”
Sleaze (湯湯水水) is one of the better bands in this growing scene, and they’ll release their first CD next Friday, Sept. 21 at Underworld, to be followed by three other shows through the end of the month. When I sat down with them earlier this week, the interview immediately turned into one of those interminable discussions of musical genre.
“Before, I listened to hardcore and screamo,” says Sleaze vocalist Norton Lin (林書緯). “Then I started listening to stoner [rock], and I really wanted to play stoner, but we weren’t really stoner. We were just some strange music, I don’t know what to call it.”
Photo courtesy of Sleazy
“I don’t really want to think about our band as being a certain genre,” he said. Then 10 minutes later, “I think Sleaze is a hardcore band.” And 20 minutes later, “If you have to say we’re some genre, say ‘psychedelic.’”
At this, guitarist King Kong Guan (官靖剛) started laughing. “Dude, we’re definitely not psychedelic. What, you think we’re Pink Floyd?”
“Oh,” said Lin. “Well then, maybe just forget about it.”
What they are is a group that started off in punk, hardcore and screamo. (Lin and Guan both loved the Japanese band Envy.) Three years ago, the different bands they were playing in broke up at around the same time. So they got together in 2009 and began by jamming off of heavy riffs, then followed those riffs into heavy grooves. Now, Sleaze forms its music around a core of extended jams that hearken back to late-70s hard rock, but they also weave in explosive punk riffs and spaced-out sections of bleary-eyed dub. There’s even the odd saxophone solo.
Lin also has a very interesting back-story, having started out as something of a child prodigy. Before the age of 10, his mother trained him to sing, dance and play the piano, before launching him into the world of TV singing competitions, including the most famous of the time, Wu Deng Jiang (五燈獎) (literally: Five Lights Awards). She also had him perform at weddings for NT$10,000 a pop. This is much less than he now makes delivering low, gutteral groans as lead singer of Sleaze. Still, he claims that the influence of Taiwanese pop singing legends like Wen Xia (文夏) and Liu Jia-chang (劉家昌) has not left him. And Guan, incredibly enough, claims that old pre-90s Mandopop influences his guitar arrangements. I will have to take their word for it.
■ Sleaze plays Fri, Sept. 21, 9pm at Underworld (地下社會), B1, 45 Shida Rd, Taipei City (台北市師大路45號B1). Admission: NT$300. They also play Sept. 22 at the Nangang Bottlecap Factory (南港瓶蓋工廠), Sept. 29 at Emerge Livehouse in Taichung (浮現藝文展演空間) and Sept. 30 at the Wall, Taipei.
In business news, Funky Brothers (放客兄弟) claims to be Taiwan’s first band to have used crowdfunding to raise money to produce an album. To thank their fans, they’ll play a free show at Revolver next Wednesday. Using the website FlyingV.cc, they raised NT$380,000 from 272 supporters, each of whom will get gifts — CDs, release party tickets and t-shirts — depending on the level of support.
Funky Brothers started five years ago as a four-piece, but has now expanded to become a 10-piece and one of Taiwan’s favorite party bands. Vocalist Airy Liu (劉怡伶) says there are now three very young crowdfunding websites in Taiwan. They chose crowdfunding after three years of failed applications for government recording subsidies, and she’s much happier with this solution.
“If we get money from the government, then finishing the album becomes just like finishing your homework. But if we get the money from our friends and our fans, it just makes more sense. In this case, we make the album for the people who want the music,” said Liu.
■ Funky Brothers play Revolver, 1-2, Roosevelt Rd Sec 1, Taipei City (台北市羅斯福路一段1-2號), near Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall MRT Station (中正紀念堂捷運站) Exit 4. Tel: (02) 3393-1678, on Sept 19 at 10pm. Admission is free.
Every now and then, it’s nice to just point somewhere on a map and head out with no plan. In Taiwan, where convenience reigns, food options are plentiful and people are generally friendly and helpful, this type of trip is that much easier to pull off. One day last November, a spur-of-the-moment day hike in the hills of Chiayi County turned into a surprisingly memorable experience that impressed on me once again how fortunate we all are to call this island home. The scenery I walked through that day — a mix of forest and farms reaching up into the clouds
With one week left until election day, the drama is high in the race for the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) chair. The race is still potentially wide open between the three frontrunners. The most accurate poll is done by Apollo Survey & Research Co (艾普羅民調公司), which was conducted a week and a half ago with two-thirds of the respondents party members, who are the only ones eligible to vote. For details on the candidates, check the Oct. 4 edition of this column, “A look at the KMT chair candidates” on page 12. The popular frontrunner was 56-year-old Cheng Li-wun (鄭麗文)
“How China Threatens to Force Taiwan Into a Total Blackout” screamed a Wall Street Journal (WSJ) headline last week, yet another of the endless clickbait examples of the energy threat via blockade that doesn’t exist. Since the headline is recycled, I will recycle the rebuttal: once industrial power demand collapses (there’s a blockade so trade is gone, remember?) “a handful of shops and factories could run for months on coal and renewables, as Ko Yun-ling (柯昀伶) and Chao Chia-wei (趙家緯) pointed out in a piece at Taiwan Insight earlier this year.” Sadly, the existence of these facts will not stop the
Oct. 13 to Oct. 19 When ordered to resign from her teaching position in June 1928 due to her husband’s anti-colonial activities, Lin Shih-hao (林氏好) refused to back down. The next day, she still showed up at Tainan Second Preschool, where she was warned that she would be fired if she didn’t comply. Lin continued to ignore the orders and was eventually let go without severance — even losing her pay for that month. Rather than despairing, she found a non-government job and even joined her husband Lu Ping-ting’s (盧丙丁) non-violent resistance and labor rights movements. When the government’s 1931 crackdown
RSS