Crowd Lu (盧廣仲)
Seven Days (七天)
Team Ear Music
As the follow-up to his Golden Melody award-winning debut album, acclaimed singer-songwriter Crowd Lu’s (盧廣仲) Seven Days is as refreshing and energetic as his previous work. An unconventional indie icon with a mop-top, black-rimmed glasses, trademark shorts and long white socks, Lu has become the spokesperson for the everyday Joe. Endearing himself to fans with his unostentatious and often light-hearted and comedic stage manner, Lu makes music that’s as unassuming and sincere as his guileless smile. What really sets him apart from the pack of indie singers is how he finds musical poetry in the mundane. Whether exploring daily life’s triumphs or tribulations, he delivers his jester’s wisdom with simple, accessible lyrics and infectious melodies.
Lu sings about love and ambition with a stripped-down, earnest folk-rock sound, backed mostly by a simple guitar. Reminiscent of his signature I Love You (我愛你), the opening track Oh Yeah is a rock ballad that celebrates the joy of love with an undeniable joie de vivre. In the same vein as his hit Good Morning, Beautiful Dawn (早安，晨之美), the title track Seven Days (七天) is an empowering anthem in which the narrator asks for more time to make changes in life. With the later tracks, the album swerves from happy-go-lucky vivacity to pensive contemplation. The Loneliest Moment (最寂寞的時候) is a rare piano-led ballad in which Lu mourns unrequited love with understated poignancy. Have You Heard It (聽見了嗎？) is a synth-driven, atmospheric ballad where Lu begs the object of his love to accept his affection.
Blessed with an emotionally contagious voice, Lu sounds like he is literally begging in his down-tempo ballads and as if he is jumping for joy in his more energetic rock numbers. Well-crafted and heart-felt though it is, however, Seven Days unfortunately revisits much of the territory already covered by Lu in his first studio and live albums. For a singer whose stock in trade is his rapport with ordinary people, fame and success pose a certain threat to creativity. One looks forward to seeing what new terrain Lu will chart when life’s triumphs aren’t so small any more.
— ANDREW C.C. HUANG
Angela Chang (張韶涵)
The Fifth Season (第五季)
Linfair Records
Not quite a “lesser Queen of Heaven” (小天后) and almost a better actress than she is a singer, Angela Chang (張韶涵) has always been curiously hard to pin down. A magnetic pop princess with a celestial elegance, she has yet to deliver a signature song thus far in her career. Returning to the music market after a two-year hiatus, Chang’s latest album The 5th Season (第五季) does little to distinguish her from the current pack of Mando-pop divas.
As a standard outing for a commercial star, this album is about as ground-breaking as a Hello Kitty doll. Thematically, it alternatively mourns unrequited love or celebrates the joy of love. To target different market segments, it features a grab bag of musical styles.
The album starts off with 5th Season, a guitar-driven rock ballad, and White (白白的), a pallid Mando-pop ballad about lost love. The Most Distant Land (看的最遠的地方) is an uplifting anthem that celebrates love and life with irresistible pop hooks. Sometimes (偶爾), a stark piano-based ballad, is a “Dear John” letter in which the narrator finds closure and lets go of an old flame.
Chang possesses a delicate voice and is at her most appealing when she reaches a firm higher register in atmospheric ballads with striped-down sounds, such as in the mesmerizing Flower in the Dream (夢裡花). Unfortunately, no ballad on this album reaches that level of poignancy.
Veering away from slow-tempo ballads, she falters badly in the guitar-propelled rocker Head Shaker, the whimsical circus ditty Seeking Ameli and the disco-infused Even Happier. Like most Mando-pop singers, she has neither the substance nor the attitude necessary to pull off these up-tempo numbers.
Six out of the 10 tracks The 5th Season were written and produced by Chen Wei (陳偉), who was responsible for most of Elva Hsiao’s hits in her Virgin heyday but who fails to ignite sparks with Chang. Even on her sixth outing, Chang still hasn’t found a distinct sound for herself.
— ANDREW C.C. HUANG
Totem (圖騰)
Sheep Boy (放洋的孩子)
Wonder Music
Totem (圖騰) gives Aboriginal music an indie-rock tilt with their second album Sheep Boy (放洋的孩子), which was released earlier this fall.
Even though their music proudly acknowledges the bandmembers’ Amis, Paiwan and Puyuma heritage, Totem sits squarely in modern rock territory. Frontman and lead vocalist Suming (姜聖明) combines a singer-songwriter sensibility with slick pop arrangements that have mainstream appeal.
The title track, which refers to the folktale about the shepherd boy and the wolf, starts the album at a dreamy, ethereal pace. The song’s allure comes from Suming’s soft yodeling, backed by an icy cool mix of acoustic guitar strumming, electronic-sounding drums and pianos.
The band revs things up with Crazy Apple (瘋狂Apple), a joyful emo-punk track written and sung by guitarist/vocalist Zamake (胡祝凱). Wind Picks Up (起風) is a folk rock tune with a bluesy chorus that brings to mind Wu Bai (伍百); Suming tops the song off with a catchy refrain: “There’s no wind until you start to walk” (走路才有風).
Hard-core folk fanatics might scratch their heads at Our Friends Are in Front of Us (朋友在前面) and La Qian Xi (拉千禧), which update the traditional “Ho-Hai-Yan” chorus with electronica sounds and disco-rock beats. But the indie-pop instrumentation works well, offering an original take on a familiar melody, and the harmonies are pleasing and tight.
Totem says it loud and proud in Conclusion (結果), a rousing funk-rock tune in which Suming playfully sings about his Aboriginal identity. “Others go for the night markets, the shops, the nightlife/ I like the [tribal harvest festivals], where I kill chickens and ducks.”
The album showcases the band’s ability to switch styles and moods, to mixed effect. The pop ballad Blue Star (藍星) get a little old after repeated listenings with its “I love you” refrains. The band ultimately shines on rockers like Baby Doesn’t Love Me (寶貝不愛), a Beatles-esque tune with a satisfying electric guitar romp.
— DAVID CHEN
Ze’ Hwang (黃小楨)
No Budget
A Good Day Records
Add this quiet, quirky album to your list of music for rainy days by the windowsill. No Budget, a reissue of singer-songwriter Ze’ Hwang’s (黃小楨) 1996 debut, is one of Taiwan’s classic indie-folk recordings.
Hwang would have been the person who stood out at a coffeehouse open mic or poetry slam. Her lyrics read like snippets from a lonely, lovesick teenager’s diary, while her breathy, syrupy sweet voice and acoustic guitar convey genuine drama, wit and humor.
The slow and gentle #3 could be seen as a take on unrequited love. When Hwang sings “love is such a wonderful thing,” it sounds as if she’s just learned a sad truth. But she isn’t always feeling dejected. On another song of yearning, December Night, Hwang waxes optimistic that “I’ll be yours for a long, long time.”
A few idiosyncratic numbers add spice to the album. Sister ... Couple Things About Her Vege Garden, which sounds like she’s channeling Juliana Hatfield, is a funny vignette about a holier-than-thou vegetarian sister. Cultural Shock is an agitated rock number, and one wonders whether the title is inspired by Hwang’s background: Taiwan-born, raised and educated in the US.
While most of Hwang’s songs are in English, she has a few Mandarin tunes that carry their own and are well suited to her voice and character. Elope (私奔), the lyrics of which are credited to “Finninipannini,” is a beautiful, atmospheric number with piano backing.
In 15 Second Practice Tune (15秒鐘練習曲), which actually clocks in at 48 seconds, Hwang packs a story within a single moment. The entire lyrics read “You had me standing here for three hours and 20 seconds/ But you were just hiding at home, watching TV, with the AC on/ You broke my heart.”
No Budget is also a throwback to the beginning of the do-it-yourself days. Hwang got started at a time when the speed of distribution and recording process for an indie musician was much slower without the instant access of MySpace or affordable home computer studios offering relatively high production values and quick turnover. Originally released on cassette, Hwang and her friends individually hand-packaged each of the 200 copies.
Even today, Hwang, who, hasn’t released an album since 2001, remains one of a kind.
— DAVID CHEN
“Why does Taiwan identity decline?”a group of researchers lead by University of Nevada political scientist Austin Wang (王宏恩) asked in a recent paper. After all, it is not difficult to explain the rise in Taiwanese identity after the early 1990s. But no model predicted its decline during the 2016-2018 period, they say. After testing various alternative explanations, Wang et al argue that the fall-off in Taiwanese identity during that period is related to voter hedging based on the performance of the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP). Since the DPP is perceived as the guardian of Taiwan identity, when it performs well,
The Taiwan People’s Party (TPP) on May 18 held a rally in Taichung to mark the anniversary of President William Lai’s (賴清德) inauguration on May 20. The title of the rally could be loosely translated to “May 18 recall fraudulent goods” (518退貨ㄌㄨㄚˋ！). Unlike in English, where the terms are the same, “recall” (退貨) in this context refers to product recalls due to damaged, defective or fraudulent merchandise, not the political recalls (罷免) currently dominating the headlines. I attended the rally to determine if the impression was correct that the TPP under party Chairman Huang Kuo-Chang (黃國昌) had little of a
At Computex 2025, Nvidia CEO Jensen Huang (黃仁勳) urged the government to subsidize AI. “All schools in Taiwan must integrate AI into their curricula,” he declared. A few months earlier, he said, “If I were a student today, I’d immediately start using tools like ChatGPT, Gemini Pro and Grok to learn, write and accelerate my thinking.” Huang sees the AI-bullet train leaving the station. And as one of its drivers, he’s worried about youth not getting on board — bad for their careers, and bad for his workforce. As a semiconductor supply-chain powerhouse and AI hub wannabe, Taiwan is seeing
Jade Mountain (玉山) — Taiwan’s highest peak — is the ultimate goal for those attempting a through-hike of the Mountains to Sea National Greenway (山海圳國家綠道), and that’s precisely where we’re headed in this final installment of a quartet of articles covering the Greenway. Picking up the trail at the Tsou tribal villages of Dabang and Tefuye, it’s worth stocking up on provisions before setting off, since — aside from the scant offerings available on the mountain’s Dongpu Lodge (東埔山莊) and Paiyun Lodge’s (排雲山莊) meal service — there’s nowhere to get food from here on out. TEFUYE HISTORIC TRAIL The journey recommences with
RSS