For Aboriginal singer/songwriter Ilid Kaolo (以莉‧高露), bossa nova is not merely a music genre — it’s a lifestyle.
Kaolo, who released her debut album My Carefree Life (輕快的生活) to great acclaim last week, will perform two free concerts in Taipei over the next week: at Eslite Xinyi Music Store (信義誠品音樂館) tonight and at Eslite Dunnan Music Store (誠品敦南音樂館) on Wednesday.
Kaolo’s album contains 10 songs she has written over the past decade, six in Amis and four in Mandarin, that blend folk with jazz and bossa nova.
Photo Courtesy of Wind Music
“There are no big theories with my music,” Kaolo told the Taipei Times in a phone interview last week. “I hope it will calm your heart and help you reflect on what you want from life.”
The title track, My Carefree Life, is a laid-back pop gem celebrating a pastoral lifestyle.
“This song is about my memory of the agricultural life in Hualien,” the Amis songstress said. “Watching the breeze blowing at the rice harvest was a wonderful experience.”
In the second single, Charming Eyes (迷人的眼睛), Kaolo uses her sultry, jazzy vocals to encourage modern women to be brave and hold up their heads when facing romantic disillusionment in the urban jungle.
Born in Hualien, Kaolo moved to Taipei at 7 years old and made the city her home for three decades. She started performing with Formosa Aboriginal Song and Dance Troupe (原舞者) in her early 20s and moved on to join the Aboriginal niche label Wild Fire Music (野火樂集) in recent years under the nickname of Hsiao-mei (小美).
In 2006, she joined Hohak Band’s (好客樂隊) agricultural project in Taitung, farming organic rice by day and writing music by night. She returned to her hometown of Hualien last year to continue farming and work on her debut album.
“My life in Taipei was hectic,” Kaolo said. “I went to gigs to perform and had fun with friends and never thought about releasing an album. The farming life allows me to calm my mind and reflect on life. These songs are letters to friends that I wanted to pass on, but never sent.”
As an Aboriginal performer who has experienced the glamorous night life of Taipei and then reclaimed her connection to the earth through farming, Kaolo wants audiences to find peace of mind in her music.
“You can listen to these songs when you want to chill,” she said. “I would be honored if you feel these songs can relax you and ease your loneliness.”
Beijing’s ironic, abusive tantrums aimed at Japan since Japanese Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi publicly stated that a Taiwan contingency would be an existential crisis for Japan, have revealed for all the world to see that the People’s Republic of China (PRC) lusts after Okinawa. We all owe Takaichi a debt of thanks for getting the PRC to make that public. The PRC and its netizens, taking their cue from the Chinese Communist Party (CCP), are presenting Okinawa by mirroring the claims about Taiwan. Official PRC propaganda organs began to wax lyrical about Okinawa’s “unsettled status” beginning last month. A Global
Taiwan’s democracy is at risk. Be very alarmed. This is not a drill. The current constitutional crisis progressed slowly, then suddenly. Political tensions, partisan hostility and emotions are all running high right when cool heads and calm negotiation are most needed. Oxford defines brinkmanship as: “The art or practice of pursuing a dangerous policy to the limits of safety before stopping, especially in politics.” It says the term comes from a quote from a 1956 Cold War interview with then-American Secretary of State John Foster Dulles, when he said: ‘The ability to get to the verge without getting into the war is
Dec. 22 to Dec. 28 About 200 years ago, a Taoist statue drifted down the Guizikeng River (貴子坑) and was retrieved by a resident of the Indigenous settlement of Kipatauw. Decades later, in the late 1800s, it’s said that a descendant of the original caretaker suddenly entered into a trance and identified the statue as a Wangye (Royal Lord) deity surnamed Chi (池府王爺). Lord Chi is widely revered across Taiwan for his healing powers, and following this revelation, some members of the Pan (潘) family began worshipping the deity. The century that followed was marked by repeated forced displacement and marginalization of
Music played in a wedding hall in western Japan as Yurina Noguchi, wearing a white gown and tiara, dabbed away tears, taking in the words of her husband-to-be: an AI-generated persona gazing out from a smartphone screen. “At first, Klaus was just someone to talk with, but we gradually became closer,” said the 32-year-old call center operator, referring to the artificial intelligence persona. “I started to have feelings for Klaus. We started dating and after a while he proposed to me. I accepted, and now we’re a couple.” Many in Japan, the birthplace of anime, have shown extreme devotion to fictional characters and