Culture

A chorus of debate about new age

By Natalie Thomas (China Daily)
Updated: 2011-02-09 08:18

Beijing rock band Yes No Break perform at D22 in late January. [Photo/China Daily]

Rock might be a symbol of the new generation, but some old rockers just don't rate it, Natalie Thomas learns

Tales of poverty-stricken musicians rebelling against consumerism coupled with accusations of a scene haunted with a lack of creativity make Beijing rock nothing if not controversial. METRO went out to sort the rhetoric from the reality.

In a dimly-lit bar on a freezing night, local band Yes No Break are playing to a crowd of no more than 30, of which half seem to be on fairly intimate terms with them.

As the evening progresses, we are treated to solid musical performances along with an over-excited fan nearly knocking out several members of the audience, plus the obligatory technical failure.

This could be a gig anywhere in the world. However, Beijing artists are making music in a very unique environment.

Above: Local rock band Syringe clash guitars in Beijing last month despite a small crowd turnout. From the sounds they make to the shoes they wear, Beijing's young rockers are the subject of international media attention.

From the sounds they make to the shoes they wear, Beijing's young rockers have been the subject of a huge amount of international media attention.

They have also the legacy of previous Chinese rock legends to live up to, with rebellious acts like Cui Jian stirring up youths in the late 1980s, followed by the band Tang Dynasty, whose first album sold around 2 million copies back in 1992.

Despite this level of attention from certain quarters, the musical genre has not been matched by attendance at gigs.

"There are good acts playing at the moment, who are lucky if they draw a crowd of more than 20 or 30 people," said Michael Pettis, owner of rock club D22 and record label Maybe Mars.

He said part of the reason for this can be traced back to an almost total absence of domestic media attention in an era still dominated by mainstream pop ballads.

Pettis also sees it as being more a consequence of an explosion in the number of bands.

"When we opened the club in 2006, we were worried we wouldn't be able to get more than 10 bands to play regularly," he said. "Now we have good acts coming to us all the time."

While a huge amount of talent and a small audience makes the scene an exciting place for those who want to get close to fresh music, today's bands have yet to live up to the expectations of many.

"I don't really listen to much of what's being produced these days," said Liang Long, frontman of Second Hand Rose, one of the most successful bands of the past decade.

"When our band formed in 2000, we were making music because we had something to say, we had a message that we wanted to put out there," he said. "The majority of today's bands don't have the same motivations.

"For me, there's been no one in the past five years who really comes close to the legendary status of someone like Cui Jian. The music that is currently being produced will not be remembered in 10 years' time."

Lack of ideology is a criticism Pettis is familiar with, though he sees it as coming from those who have a fixed preconception about what the Chinese underground scene should be about.

"The rebellious aspect of the early days obviously has its appeal, but nowhere is it written in stone that musicians should confine themselves to singing about politics," he said.

Today's bands are experimenting, but on their own terms. Zoomin Nights, an evening held at D22, sees bands and artists as young as 16 coming together to play with new sounds (sometimes more successfully than others) and is a testament to the creative abilities of the musicians.

Only time will tell whether the current generation manages to produce music to satisfy the expectations of their predecessors and gain a following on a par with previous Chinese rock heavyweights.