A group of gray-haired men gathered in front of the Presidential Office and shout, "We want black gold [corruption]! We want black gold!"
This is a scene from a recent track on Hing-chun's (恆春兮) third album Hing-chun Talk Show 3(恆春兮工商服務三). The well-received record is full of political satire delivered in fluent and entertaining Taiwanese. Hing-chun is one of the few artists who excels at mimicking Taiwan's radio culture and creating his own talk show, which mixes vintage advertising language and political satire.
PHOTO COURTESY OF TCM RECORDS
During the election campaign, the Chinese Nationalist party (KMT) -- in an attempt to attract more local votes -- imitated Hing-chun's talk show and made a commercial for Lien Chan (連戰). In the ad, Lien is the name of a brand of medicine what has magical powers and can cure almost anything. There have also been TV variety shows producing comic sketches based on Hing-chun's talk-show style.
PHOTO COURTESY OF TCM RECORDS
"He takes us back to the medicine-selling radio culture of 20 years ago, but blended with his own humor," says music critic Jamie Wong (翁嘉銘).
One of Hing-chun's tracks is called "earthworm pill." It goes something along the lines of: "Worried about your husband doing business in China and fooling around? Tung Rong Technology knows your pain. Just slip him an earthworm pill -- even if he wants to play around, he can't!"
He also mimics news anchormen and is full of puns. For instance, he "reported" that in Kaohsiung -- where he lives -- a pig sells for only NT$1 (一元) (pronounced "yi yuan" in Chinese). Yi-yuan (議員) also means city counselors in Chinese. Hing-chun makes a play on words to take a dig at the infamous Kaohsiung City Council bribery case. "Those looking for cheap pigs should hurry along to Bribery Street in Kaohsiung!"
Hing-chun is always ahead of the latest trends. In one of his "news broadcasts" he talks about pole dancing culture in Taiwan. "As more pole dancers are climbing higher and doing acrobatics in their shows, the labor authority has been forced to act. According to safety regulations for the workplace, it is stipulated by the Council of Labor Affairs that for poles taller than 2m dancers must wear helmets and safety harnesses, to avoid an industrial injury."
With three albums in three years the artist, whose real name is Cheng Chi-wen (鄭志文), has developed his fanbase. He is one of record company TCM's (角頭音樂) best-selling artists, with each album selling around 10,000 copies. He also has his own Internet chatroom.
"My main job is running a motorcycle store," says 33 year-old Hing-chun -- and he's not joking. In person, he even looks like a motorbike store owner and gets shy easily. Despite many invitations to appear on various TV variety shows, he generally turns them down and keeps a low profile. This, however, only makes his fans more curious. They even come from Tainan to Kaohsiung in order to have Hing-chun check their bikes, as an excuse to see him.
"They only ask for engine oil but chat with me for a long time. It makes me so embarassed," he says.
Listeners say they like his album partly because it reminds them of the past. "It's like in the 1960s when I listened to radios with my mom," said one fan surnamed Wu, on the star's Web site.
Hing-chun is from southern Taiwan and grew up listening to radio. "When my classmates were listening to Mandarin pop in my teens, I enjoyed listening to old Taiwanese songs and collecting vinyl records. I stayed up and listened to radio shows until I fell asleep," he says.
He was discovered on the so-called underground radio stations in the 1980s. At the time the government had a monopoly on much of the media and pirate radio offered a different voice to that of the KMT. Hing-chun worked for a radio station called "The Voice of Yam" (蕃薯之聲). There were no advertisements and the only source of income was donations," Hing-chun says. "Many of my audience had the habit of listening to advertisements, so I created some fake ads. We did not realize it would become so popular."
"His talk show has an old-time flavor, but also has a rhythm that is very literary," says Jamie Wong. "Most of the comedians we have been seeing for a long time use Mandarin. Taiwanese-language comedies have been seen as low culture until recently."
Surprisingly, it takes only a short time for Hing-chun to write his well-rhymed and entertaining jokes.
"I'm not a smart person. But I know what I can do," Hing-chun says, adding it's his habit to write down jokes when talking to friends. "As long as you grab the funny point, [writing a joke] won't take long."
When recording, Hing-chun prepares a script of more than 80 to 100 jokes and generally finishes a recording session in one day. "I can't do too much. I have my motorcycle store to take care of," he says.
"Besides, this way we save a lot of costs for the record company. It's always a good thing to save money for such an independent label."
Asked whether he is going to make a fourth album soon, Hing-chun says. "I don't know. I don't make plans about this kind of thing, but for sure I will always write and talk about jokes -- even if it is just to amuse myself.
Any jokes about the protests in the past three weeks? I asked.
"Ah, about that subject, there are way too many jokes to write!"
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