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.
It’s a good thing that 2025 is over. Yes, I fully expect we will look back on the year with nostalgia, once we have experienced this year and 2027. Traditionally at New Years much discourse is devoted to discussing what happened the previous year. Let’s have a look at what didn’t happen. Many bad things did not happen. The People’s Republic of China (PRC) did not attack Taiwan. We didn’t have a massive, destructive earthquake or drought. We didn’t have a major human pandemic. No widespread unemployment or other destructive social events. Nothing serious was done about Taiwan’s swelling birth rate catastrophe.
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In the 2010s, the Communist Party of China (CCP) began cracking down on Christian churches. Media reports said at the time that various versions of Protestant Christianity were likely the fastest growing religions in the People’s Republic of China (PRC). The crackdown was part of a campaign that in turn was part of a larger movement to bring religion under party control. For the Protestant churches, “the government’s aim has been to force all churches into the state-controlled organization,” according to a 2023 article in Christianity Today. That piece was centered on Wang Yi (王怡), the fiery, charismatic pastor of the
Hsu Pu-liao (許不了) never lived to see the premiere of his most successful film, The Clown and the Swan (小丑與天鵝, 1985). The movie, which starred Hsu, the “Taiwanese Charlie Chaplin,” outgrossed Jackie Chan’s Heart of Dragon (龍的心), earning NT$9.2 million at the local box office. Forty years after its premiere, the film has become the Taiwan Film and Audiovisual Institute’s (TFAI) 100th restoration. “It is the only one of Hsu’s films whose original negative survived,” says director Kevin Chu (朱延平), one of Taiwan’s most commercially successful