He arrives for an interview wearing his rock star uniform: black leather pants, an Adidas sweatshirt and Big Nose tennis shoes. It's a radical departure from our previous meeting, when he showed up looking like a Wall Street banker circa 1985 -- blue Oxford shirt, yellow power tie and beige overcoat.
"I like to keep people guessing," he says. "I have a lot of energy, a lot of expression. I'm evolving as a person, as an artist. I guess my looks just evolve with me. My music is the same way. I'll look radically different a year from now."
Meet Java, master of disguise and a pop musician intent on winning the hearts and minds of the Taiwanese people. Also formerly known as Scott Freiburger and Scott Freiburg -- and now answering alternately to Java, Scott Frei or Java Scott -- he has come to Taiwan and reinvented himself in pursuit of fame, fortune and an Asian bride.
Courtesy of Java
Ten years ago the look and the music were more Poison-meets-Spinal Tap, as Java and his brother donned Jack Daniel's t-shirts and sleeveless jean jackets to form a hair band called Unity & Choice. Now he bills himself as "The Taiwan Tom Cruise," and he has released a pop album on which he sings in Mandarin, Taiwanese and English. It's called I Love Taiwan -- and he means it. If he is to be believed, Matthew Lien cares not a whit for this island by comparison. Java really loves Taiwan, and he's intent on letting Taiwan hear about it.
In fact, since releasing the album and a video, both of which he financed himself, Java has been a one-man promotional SWAT team. He started his own local record company strictly for the purpose. He has gone so far as to write his own reviews of the album and try to pass them off to local media as objective critiques. In his enthusiasm for himself and his work, he praises his "soaring, ethereal vocals, passionate delivery and perfect Taiwanese pronunciation." He writes of his "flawless studio performance" and "extraordinary sound of hope."
In summary, he predicts a classic in the making: "Every song on this album is a rare gem -- beautiful lyrics, sing-along melodies and powerful, anthem choruses guarantee this album will remain in Taiwan people's consciousness for years to come."
PHOTO COURTESY OF JAVA
Obviously, that remains to be seen. But his approach is paying some small dividends in the meantime. Tower Records in Hsimenting has a special Java display. A Shihlin Starbucks allowed a Java Christmas concert. UNI Radio in Hsinchu has been playing the title track to "I Love Taiwan" on a regular basis, and interviewed him on the air over the Lunar New Year. Now he's scheduled to open at a pop concert in Tienmu on Feb. 20. (In a typical case of Java oversell, he claimed the concert to be a campaign rally for Chen Shui-bian; though it is being organized by DPP employees, it is not officially affiliated with Chen or the party.)
"I think I'm making an impact here," he says. "I think I'm making an influence. I'm a happy guy."
Who is this happy guy, and where did he come from? New York City; Queens to be exact. Now 25, he says he was a child model at 10, a singer of commercial jingles, and an Off Broadway actor at 12, when he landed a role in Les Miserables.
COURTESY OF JAVA
It was in the Little Taipei section of Queens, he says, where he made his first Taiwanese friends and first sang in a KTV. But a dime-store Freudian (and who can resist the chance?) might conclude that this entire love affair with Taiwan originated elsewhere, that it is the projected frustrations of an unrequited love of a different sort.
It happened one summer, of course.
"I fell in love with a Taiwanese girl," he explains. "I had a huge crush on her but she had a boyfriend. The last day of the summer I gave her a sunflower and said I have this huge crush on her. She was shocked."
It wasn't long after that Java began studying Mandarin, and the sting of that summer love still lingers, providing the inspiration for material on I Love Taiwan, including the song "Sunflower."
Now, Java claims to be "the first American pop singer to profess a strong desire to marry a Taiwanese woman and raise a family here on the island." He describes Taiwanese women as "alluring and exotic." Though he doesn't have a girlfriend at the moment, he is looking out for that special someone.
"My future wife is definitely Taiwanese," he says. "I'm really intrigued by Taiwanese women. I like the look. I like their features. I like their high cheekbones, their cute, small little lips.The way they hold themselves. They're just adorable."
Some people find Java adorable, or at least irresistible. Chen Wei-chen, who works in the DPP's department of youth development, said he met Java when Java asked him for directions to Shida Road just last month. One thing led to another, and Java ended up in the DPP offices with his guitar, belting out "I Love Taiwan" in Taiwanese.
"We listened -- it was interesting and exciting," Chen recalls. "We decided to have a concert and asked him to perform." Another fan is Cheng Mao-sen, a DJ at UNI radio in Hsinchu. Cheng first met Java while taping a commercial. One thing led to another, and Cheng found himself playing "I Love Taiwan" to his listeners several times a week.
"I think it's very touching," he says.
His listeners apparently haven't been very touched, or at least they haven't mentioned it. No one has called about the song, and no requests have been made. If this keeps up, its air time will dwindle to nothing in the next few weeks.
Still, Java says he will press on. He's following his dreams, and he is a man not easily discouraged -- not by the lack of recognition, not by the critics and naysayers and not by the skeptics who think his entire act is a contrivance.
"Not everyone is going to like Java," Java says. "Not everyone is going to like the Java sound. That's okay. As far as this being contrived, I would say absolutely not. This is who I am."
At least for now.
Feb. 9 to Feb.15 Growing up in the 1980s, Pan Wen-li (潘文立) was repeatedly told in elementary school that his family could not have originated in Taipei. At the time, there was a lack of understanding of Pingpu (plains Indigenous) peoples, who had mostly assimilated to Han-Taiwanese society and had no official recognition. Students were required to list their ancestral homes then, and when Pan wrote “Taipei,” his teacher rejected it as impossible. His father, an elder of the Ketagalan-founded Independence Presbyterian Church in Xinbeitou (自立長老會新北投教會), insisted that their family had always lived in the area. But under postwar
On paper, the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) enters this year’s nine-in-one elections with almost nowhere to go but up. Yet, there are fears in the pan-green camp that they may not do much better then they did in 2022. Though the DPP did somewhat better at the city and county councillor level in 2022, at the “big six” municipality mayoral and county commissioner level, it was a disaster for the party. Then-president and party chairwoman Tsai Ing-wen (蔡英文) made a string of serious strategic miscalculations that led to the party’s worst-ever result at the top executive level. That year, the party
In 2012, the US Department of Justice (DOJ) heroically seized residences belonging to the family of former president Chen Shui-bian (陳水扁), “purchased with the proceeds of alleged bribes,” the DOJ announcement said. “Alleged” was enough. Strangely, the DOJ remains unmoved by the any of the extensive illegality of the two Leninist authoritarian parties that held power in the People’s Republic of China (PRC) and Taiwan. If only Chen had run a one-party state that imprisoned, tortured and murdered its opponents, his property would have been completely safe from DOJ action. I must also note two things in the interests of completeness.
Taiwan is especially vulnerable to climate change. The surrounding seas are rising at twice the global rate, extreme heat is becoming a serious problem in the country’s cities, and typhoons are growing less frequent (resulting in droughts) but more destructive. Yet young Taiwanese, according to interviewees who often discuss such issues with this demographic, seldom show signs of climate anxiety, despite their teachers being convinced that humanity has a great deal to worry about. Climate anxiety or eco-anxiety isn’t a psychological disorder recognized by diagnostic manuals, but that doesn’t make it any less real to those who have a chronic and