“When I’m writing, it’s mostly when I’m in a dejected or melancholy mood,” says Yu Lei (魚雷), songwriter, vocalist, guitarist and frontwoman of the band U.TA (屋塔). “I can’t really just spout off at people. As a result, these emotions come out in the music as commentary on people and on the world.”
U.TA specializes in a style rarely encountered in Taiwan’s indie-music scene: dream pop. With hypnotic whispering vocals reminiscent of the Cocteau Twins, the band’s music is unlike anything you’ve heard in the pop market since Faye Wong (王菲).
“I became enchanted with the dream pop sound when I heard songs [in that style] by Faye Wong,” Yu Lei explains, adding that she got to like Cocteau Twins and Mazzy Star later on. As the band’s leader and songwriter, Yu Lei’s taste for atmospheric, contemplative music defines her band’s style.
“All in all, this is not very happy music,” she says.
U.TA evolved from its former incarnation Zibet, a band Yu Lei joined during her college years. After graduation, she and bassist Garry moved on to form U.TA in 2005. On Sunday evening they will be performing the last show of a three-month promotional tour in support of their new EP, Good, Night, which was released this July.
The four-track CD is a dream-drenched musical journey of existential questioning, with Yu Lei’s sensual voice crooning over a flowing sonic river of overlapping bass and echoing synth. To Live (活著), a track revamped from a song composed during the band’s Zibet phase, explores today’s world. With moaning and whimpering vocals, Obsession (著迷) details the different forms of romantic obsession. What (什麼) tackles the theme of alienation in modern urban landscapes, and Flower (花) questions the nature of love and trust.
“I chose this [CD] title because I think this album makes a perfect bedtime sound track. It’s the kind of music you can listen to while contemplating what happened to you today and what it means,” says Yu Lei, who was interviewed by phone on Wednesday. “With our music, you don’t always have to pay attention to the lyrics. Sometimes, you can just wallow in the atmosphere.”
The band released its first EP, Boys & Girls (男孩 女孩), in 2006 and produced two additional singles before this year’s release. This rather thin output can be attributed to perfectionism and a stubborn insistence on stylistic integrity, which results in songs that are ethereal and textured, slow-building, and always ultimately rewarding.
“I don’t like to release a song until I am satisfied with it,” says Yu Lei.
“We weren’t that aggressive before because of the nature of an amateur band,” she adds. “It wasn’t our focus until we signed with the current label to release this EP commercially.”
Yu Lei works as a graphic designer by day and is also studying fashion design. Garry is a salesman at a stereo store. With her background in design, Yu Lei pushed the indie-rock ethos to the limit by printing CD covers and burning copies of the band’s first two singles herself.
She says she wasn’t thinking about the long-term value of the CDs at the time. “We did it more out of budgetary concerns because we would have had to order a significantly larger quantity if we had chosen to print by machine.”
Unlike most bands who aspire to perform at bigger and bigger venues, U.TA prefers more intimate settings.
“Our music is ideal for the night and for a quiet setting. We have performed at outdoor festivals where our music is easily drowned out by the noise,” says Yu Lei. “I love cafes and live houses where people can listen carefully and enjoy the music. When I am performing, I need to create a space to envelop the audience. When something goes wrong, that space is compromised.”
Recently, Yu Lei has noticed that U.TA’s fan base seems to be getting younger.
“It used to be that our audiences were older, sophisticated people with more life experience,” she says. “The world is less happy these days, even for young people. They need the cathartic release they can find in our music.”
Towering high above Taiwan’s capital city at 508 meters, Taipei 101 dominates the skyline. The earthquake-proof skyscraper of steel and glass has captured the imagination of professional rock climber Alex Honnold for more than a decade. Tomorrow morning, he will climb it in his signature free solo style — without ropes or protective equipment. And Netflix will broadcast it — live. The event’s announcement has drawn both excitement and trepidation, as well as some concerns over the ethical implications of attempting such a high-risk endeavor on live broadcast. Many have questioned Honnold’s desire to continues his free-solo climbs now that he’s a
Francis William White, an Englishman who late in the 1860s served as Commissioner of the Imperial Customs Service in Tainan, published the tale of a jaunt he took one winter in 1868: A visit to the interior of south Formosa (1870). White’s journey took him into the mountains, where he mused on the difficult terrain and the ease with which his little group could be ambushed in the crags and dense vegetation. At one point he stays at the house of a local near a stream on the border of indigenous territory: “Their matchlocks, which were kept in excellent order,
Jan. 19 to Jan. 25 In 1933, an all-star team of musicians and lyricists began shaping a new sound. The person who brought them together was Chen Chun-yu (陳君玉), head of Columbia Records’ arts department. Tasked with creating Taiwanese “pop music,” they released hit after hit that year, with Chen contributing lyrics to several of the songs himself. Many figures from that group, including composer Teng Yu-hsien (鄧雨賢), vocalist Chun-chun (純純, Sun-sun in Taiwanese) and lyricist Lee Lin-chiu (李臨秋) remain well-known today, particularly for the famous classic Longing for the Spring Breeze (望春風). Chen, however, is not a name
There is no question that Tyrannosaurus rex got big. In fact, this fearsome dinosaur may have been Earth’s most massive land predator of all time. But the question of how quickly T. rex achieved its maximum size has been a matter of debate. A new study examining bone tissue microstructure in the leg bones of 17 fossil specimens concludes that Tyrannosaurus took about 40 years to reach its maximum size of roughly 8 tons, some 15 years more than previously estimated. As part of the study, the researchers identified previously unknown growth marks in these bones that could be seen only