Music is about seeking a connection. A connection between audience and performer, crowd member to crowd member. The more powerful the performance, the deeper the connection. And the more real the source of the music, the more genuine the experience. Dread Rider, a Taiwan-based reggae act, is a band whose music comes from a place both real and raw: the life experience of singer Sherwyne Pereira, a native of Trinidad who settled in Greater Taichung in 2008. Though he now lives the stable life — he’s married with two young children — Pereira came up the hard way in his homeland. In other words, when he sings original songs like I Grew Up in the Ghetto, he’s not just riffing on the apocryphal. He’s baring his soul.
“I really grew up in the ghetto, man,” says the impassioned frontman. “When I sing in the song, ‘In the ghetto, ain’t no paradise, every day we had to eat black-eyed peas and rice,’ it’s the truth. We try to deal more with truth in the music and we go with what feels right.”
Dread Rider, which performed under the name Wailin’ Soul until earlier this year, was born in 2008 when drummer Hanro “Jubba” Van Wyk was playing at 89K in Greater Taichung with his old funk band, the now-defunct Moneyshot Horns. Pereira was in the crowd, and the band got him up on stage for an impromptu jam. Guitarist Russel Rodgers was also in the crowd that night, and liked what he heard. He approached Sherwyne after the gig, told him he was looking to put together a roots/reggae act, and got the singer on board. Van Wyk, a seasoned performer who prior to moving to Taiwan from his native South Africa had already played massive shows such as the Isle of Wight Festival and Belgium’s Pukkelpop, would join following some lineup shuffles. The current four-piece is now rounded out by French bassist Cyrille Briegel, one of the most in-demand live and session musicians in Taiwan.
Photo courtesy of Johan Vosloo
Over time, the Dread Rider sound grew to incorporate elements of hip-hop, dancehall and R&B. A couple of months ago, after about a year and a half worth of stops and starts with recording and post-production work, the band finally got to experience the delayed gratification of self-releasing its first album, a self-titled disc. Listen to the songs on the record, and it quickly becomes clear these are serious players we’re talking about. After doing time in various bands over the years in Taiwan, this is exactly the scenario Van Wyk has been looking for. If there’s a way back to the big stage, it’s with this group of musicians. But even though he’s already put in the time, he’s still prepared to invest even more if it means taking Dread Rider to the status of full-time band.
“If we can just do music,” Van Wyk considers, “I would be the happiest man alive. But even if it’s not like that and I have to keep on working, even if it takes another 10 years, I will keep on doing it. It’s my chosen path. We want to be heard.”
Van Wyk and Pereira have reason to be optimistic about the future of Dread Rider, as there are big things on the horizon. Tomorrow night the band will perform at Sappho Live in Taipei in what could be seen as a tune-up for the band’s biggest gig to date, a huge night of reggae at Legacy (音樂展演空間) on Oct. 12 featuring the likes of Hang in the Air (盪在空中), the O-Brothaz and Skaraoke. Dread Rider is expecting a big turnout, but regardless of how many people show up, one thing is certain. There will be a connection, and it will be real.
Photo courtesy of Hedinn Eriksson/Mercury Classics
“Every show, whether it’s a hundred people or a thousand, we always get the people involved in what we’re doing,” says Pereira. “Even if they don’t know what the hell we’re talking about, we’ll get them to sing an ‘ooh’ or an ‘ah.’ Something universal that we can all reach and connect. We bring it. I don’t play around.”
Dread Rider plays tomorrow night at Sappho Live, B1, 1, Ln 102, Anhe Rd Sec 1, Taipei City (台北市安和路一段102巷一號B1). The show starts at 9:30pm, and the cover charge is NT$200.
■ Also appearing tomorrow night in Taipei is Icelandic multi-instrumentalist Olafur Arnalds. Though the man from Mosfellsbaer comes from a metal and hardcore background, his current sound couldn’t be further from where he started his musical journey. How he went from the immediate bursts of unchecked anger of his previous bands to his current form of expression — soft, free-flowing instrumental pieces with sparing vocals, ethereal electronics, minimalist strings and melancholic piano — was a bit of an accident. German metalcore act Heaven Shall Burn originally approached the 26-year-old in 2004 to compose intro and outro pieces for their upcoming album, Antigone. Months later, a record label asked Arnalds if he would be interested in composing an entire album of songs similar to the pieces he had just made for Heaven Shall Burn.
“I didn’t really know what I was doing,” Arnalds explains, “but I think that’s a good thing. If I had been more aware of my abilities, and lack thereof, I may have been more reserved. But especially coming from the background which I did, where it doesn’t matter what you can do, but only what you do, it was easy for me to jump on this opportunity.”
Tomorrow, fans in Taipei will have a chance to get swept into the soundscapes of Arnalds’ latest album, For Now I Am Winter. Expect an evening of equal parts introspection and muted wonder.
Olafur Arnalds plays tomorrow night at The Wall (這牆), B1, 200, Roosevelt Rd Sec 4, Taipei City (台北市羅斯福路四段200號B1). Tickets are NT$1,200 in advance, NT$1,500 at the door. Doors open at 7pm, and the show starts at 8pm.
April 28 to May 4 During the Japanese colonial era, a city’s “first” high school typically served Japanese students, while Taiwanese attended the “second” high school. Only in Taichung was this reversed. That’s because when Taichung First High School opened its doors on May 1, 1915 to serve Taiwanese students who were previously barred from secondary education, it was the only high school in town. Former principal Hideo Azukisawa threatened to quit when the government in 1922 attempted to transfer the “first” designation to a new local high school for Japanese students, leading to this unusual situation. Prior to the Taichung First
Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) Chairman Eric Chu (朱立倫) hatched a bold plan to charge forward and seize the initiative when he held a protest in front of the Taipei City Prosecutors’ Office. Though risky, because illegal, its success would help tackle at least six problems facing both himself and the KMT. What he did not see coming was Taipei Mayor Chiang Wan-an (將萬安) tripping him up out of the gate. In spite of Chu being the most consequential and successful KMT chairman since the early 2010s — arguably saving the party from financial ruin and restoring its electoral viability —
The Ministry of Education last month proposed a nationwide ban on mobile devices in schools, aiming to curb concerns over student phone addiction. Under the revised regulation, which will take effect in August, teachers and schools will be required to collect mobile devices — including phones, laptops and wearables devices — for safekeeping during school hours, unless they are being used for educational purposes. For Chang Fong-ching (張鳳琴), the ban will have a positive impact. “It’s a good move,” says the professor in the department of
Toward the outside edge of Taichung City, in Wufeng District (霧峰去), sits a sprawling collection of single-story buildings with tiled roofs belonging to the Wufeng Lin (霧峰林家) family, who rose to prominence through success in military, commercial, and artistic endeavors in the 19th century. Most of these buildings have brick walls and tiled roofs in the traditional reddish-brown color, but in the middle is one incongruous property with bright white walls and a black tiled roof: Yipu Garden (頤圃). Purists may scoff at the Japanese-style exterior and its radical departure from the Fujianese architectural style of the surrounding buildings. However, the property
RSS