A vast majority of the record-buying public may never have heard of Johnny Duann (
He modestly shies away from any talk of being the guy who transformed the local music industry and balks at suppositions that he played a major role in bringing Mando-pop to the world stage. But while he's quick to downplay his role in shaping Taiwan's music scene, even the modest and unassuming record industry mogul agrees -- when pushed -- that without him the local music scene would probably be very different today.
Canto-pop would possibly rule the airwaves in the region, Mando-pop would never have become a global phenomenon and the musical careers of the first generation of modern Taiwanese crooners, like Chen Ming-chang (
PHOTO: GAVIN PHIPPS, TAIPEI TIMES
"I don't like to think that it was all me, but I'll have to admit that the way in which I approached it and saw the route in which Taiwan's recording business needed to go was lot different," he said. "Labels were afraid of signing new and different acts and marketing relied heavily on artists' names rather then their music."
This year marks the 25th anniversary of Rock Records and the label continues to release albums by established artists like Bobby Chen (
One of Rock's most significant moves, however, was to open its recording-studio doors to a new breed of Taiwanese acts. Referred to at the time as "New Campus Folk Songs," the breakthrough hybrid musical genre, which blended contemporary folk rhythms with lyrical content in tune with Taiwan's youth, was to prove a milestone not only for the label, but also for the nation's music scene.
"The New Campus Folk Songs movement played a very important role in shaping the direction of the music scene as well as providing us with a platform from which to distinguish ourselves from other labels," Duann said.
"As a new label we wanted to find our own way as did those involved with the movement. In hindsight we helped each other."
The first acts Duann signed in 1980 were two of the leading lights of the campus movement. Today's more Western rock-inspired youth may have never heard of Wu Chu-chu (吳楚楚) and Yang Tsu-chun (楊祖珺), but in the late 1970s both artists were as radical as it got and proved perfect signings for an infant label looking to make an indelible mark on the scene.
"[Rock] took a very different approach to its artists. Up until then, Taiwan's labels had signed artists simply because of their looks. They didn't need to write their own material and they didn't necessarily have to be talented," said Duann. "From the beginning, I knew that if we were going to find our own way we needed to do something different."
Within a short period of time, Duann found himself inundated with phone calls and demo tapes from both known and unknown artists wanting to sign with Taiwan's radically new-look record label.
It wasn't only local artists who sought out Duann. Representatives from EMI and RCA were quick to strike up licensing deals. Within seven years, Rock had became not only a staging ground for new local talent, but also one that local audiences could rely on for the latest in international releases.
"It was a very important move. It gave the opportunity to see how international record companies functioned and to learn about the global music business," he said.
It hasn't all been smooth sailing, however, as Rock's empire began to crumble in 1999. CD pirating was at its zenith and widespread access to the Internet meant that downloading music illegally was as easy, if not easier, than making a cup of tea.
Over the past five years, piracy has been responsible for plummeting record sales. Whereas established artists signed to rock were once guaranteed sales in excess of 50,000 copies in Taiwan, average sales are now somewhere in the region of between 10,000 and 30,000. All of which has cut a huge swath into company profits.
Seven years ago Rock's profits in Asia were NT$4 billion; this figure has now been reduced to roughly NT$1 billion. Releases now number between 40 to 50 titles a year as opposed to the 300 that once came out of Rock Records' recording studios, and the label has been forced to close its offices in Thailand and the Philippines and downsize its Taipei operation by two thirds.
Regardless of the current state of the label, it is an undeniable fact that Duann and his label have influenced the musical tastes of two generations of the record-buying public and been responsible for popularizing modern Taiwanese-language music.
The label also nurtured and cultivated the talents of literally hundreds of artists from Taiwan, Hong Kong, China and Singapore over the past 25 years -- not a bad track record for Duann, who decided to get into the music business because he failed his civil-service entrance examinations and didn't want to follow his father's footsteps and become a professional soldier.
"I went to a university, but was not a very good student. I liked music and formed a band with my brother," he said. "At the time we found everything boring. We wanted to rebel, but the only way we knew how to do this at the time was to listen to music."
Duann's career as band member proved short-lived and, along with his brother Sam (
With no previous publishing experience, the pair set about scouring the meager resources available for interesting tidbits from the music business and album reviews. The Duann brothers became regulars at the library of the US Information Service, purchased any second-hand issues of Rolling Stone and Billboard they could lay their hands on and borrowed copiously from the liner notes of albums.
"We started from nothing and with no idea what we were getting into. But we had passion. New issues of US magazines were impossible to get hold of so we had to rely on old issues to get the information," said Duann. "For more up-to-date news we had to get articles from Japanese music publications translated.
While the magazine's articles about the likes of Carol King, James Taylor and Linda Ronstadt might be considered far from cutting-edge today, the publication proved a huge success. Sales of the first issue surpassed all expectations and sold a staggering 8,000 copies. After five years and expenditures verging on the NT$4 million mark, Duann decided to cease publication of the magazine, opting instead to take a career in marketing.
After a brief stint in advertising, during which time he was responsible for bringing Wrigley's Chewing Gum to Taiwan, Duann was back in the music business. And while he's seen Rock Records go fromrags to riches to rags again over the past 25 years, in hindsight he wouldn't have had it any other way.
Although currently considering retirement, there's one thing he aims to do before hanging up his headphones and turning off his office stereo for the last time: He's looking to take revenge on the music pirates.
"We established Rock Mobile, which allows people to legally download tunes for a fee and has proven hugely successful even in China and are currently looking into the iPod pay scheme," said Duann.
"If we keep one step ahead of the latest pirating technology then I think we'll get our revenge sometime in the next couple of years."
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