Ask the average expat who Corbett Wall is and chances are they'll know him as the musically minded proprietor of the popular Taipei live music venue The Living Room. Ask a 30-something year old local the same question, however, and the answer will be very different.
For many Wall, or Gao Pei-hwa (高培華) as he's better known, is best remembered for popularizing easy listening saxophone music in Taiwan at a time when the charts were packed with nothing but rudimentary Mando-pop and outdated folk tunes.
While others wait years to see their name up in lights for Wall the transition from backpacker tourist/English teacher to seminal superstar happened almost overnight. Within two months of being in Taiwan he'd been introduced to leading record company executives and had signed a record deal with a major local label. Within a year he was fast on his way to becoming the nation's most popular easy listening jazz saxophonist. And it was all quite unintentional.
PHOTO: GAIVN PHIPPS, TAIPEI TIMES
Wall initially intended to fly directly to Japan after graduating from university in the US, then spend time with his mother and check out the Tokyo jazz scene. He was, however, persuaded by a friend who was living in Taipei to stopover in Taiwan. Landing in Taiwan with nothing but his saxophone, a mountain bike and a backpack Wall nearly left before he'd had time to sample his first bottle of Taiwan Beer.
"I got pretty freaked out. I looked Asian, but wasn't. It was pretty weird," he said. "I nearly got killed when I got sandwiched between two buses while riding a motorcycle on the second day. I figured that I'd seen enough by then and had better leave."
His buddy had other plans. Unbeknown to Wall the friend had signed him up for a temporary teaching job at a language school. It might not have been quite what Wall wanted, but the unanticipated job offer was to pave the way for his future success.
Having told the students all about his musical background they arranged an extracurricular excursion to the then popular live music venue The Ploughman's Inn. There he was introduced to the house Dixieland band. On hearing of Wall's prowess on the saxophone they invited him to join them for a jam session.
"I planned to play one song but was asked to join in for [virtually] the entire set," said Wall. "I got a call from the guitarist later in the week telling me that he'd organized another gig for us at the Apocalypse Now beerhouse."
With only a few days to go before his planned departure from Taiwan Wall figured that he had nothing to lose -- if he was going to perform one last gig in Taipei Wall figured he would do it in style. He purchased a gaudy green suit and a bright red tie from Hsimenting and took to the stage of the up-market beerhouse.
Wall and the band proved an instant hit with the audience and was asked by the bar's owner to make a monthlong commitment. Once again Wall cancelled his flight plans and decided to remain in Taiwan for a few more weeks.
"It was the only jazz scene in Taipei at the time. When I was being offered NT$60,000 per month and free food to play jazz for three hours a night it was hard to turn down," he said. "So I called my mother and cancelled the trip to Japan, again."
Two weeks into the contract Wall was introduced to a group of record company executives one of who just happened to be the co-founder of Rock Records
Within a week Wall was in a recording studio and two weeks after that his debut album, It Takes a Long Time to Remember My Name
The relationship with the record company was not quite what Wall had initially envisioned. The contract he had signed meant that he would earn less than NT$3 per album sold and he found the manner in which the label had marketed their newfound foreign sax player offensive.
"The contract was total garbage. The label marketed me as if I was some kind of wandering saxophone bimbo they found busking in the subway and then they told me that the album had sold only 29,000 copies and that they'd lost money on it," said Wall. "I'd had enough of the music business by then and decided to return to school in the US."
Wall's stay in the US proved brief. Within a couple of weeks his label had tracked him down and was begging for him to return and release another album. This time, however, Wall decided to go it alone.
The resulting album sold more copies than his debut, which, according to Wall sold in excess of 200,000 copies, and the label realized that it was on to a good thing.
While Wall wasn't being paid his dues by the record company he was a household name in Taiwan. He played the national anthem at baseball games, he released more albums of easy listening vibes, all of which sold exceptionally well, he played to packed houses at venues throughout Taiwan and was a regular on TV chat and variety shows. It was only when he made his TV commercial debut, however, that Wall was to realize just how famous he had become.
"I think it finally dawned on me that I had become a star when I found myself working alongside a beautiful model and sitting on a horse wearing a US$2,000 suit in a
commercial for San Yang," he said. "I felt like, 'ha, I must be pretty famous'."
Already a household name as a sax player in Taiwan by the mid-1990s, in 1996 Wall made his debut on the world stage for very different reasons. Teaming up with his Elite Records boss once again, Wall was asked to produce a series of classical albums featuring well-known orchestras. His work with the London Symphony Orchestra on an album of Andrew Lloyd Webber tunes was nominated for a Grammy that year in the `Best Instrumental' category.
The album didn't win, but Wall took the opportunity to work on the other side of the microphone. Instead of performing he got involved in the business side of the industry and for the next two years traveled the world living the highlife. An incident on one of those trips changed Wall's outlook on the music business forever and made him pine for the days when he could simply enjoy playing the saxophone.
Wall walked away from the industry after 13 years and 10 albums and is now more than happy to pour beer at his bar and perform occasionally.
"The [music] business is a lonely place and does fuck people up, but I think partly because of the [naive] way in which I entered it I survived pretty much in one piece," he said.
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