For whatever reason, China's "Great Firewall" has made Blogspot very difficult to reach or edit even using proxy servers, but has made it easier to access other blog hosters.
This blog is thus migrating over to blog.com. Address is lisamovius.blog.com. See you there!
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Uniqlo on Taobao
Not the most exciting of articles, I always prefer features to news and suppose my readers probably do too, but it marks an interesting development.
I am an enthusiast of online shopping, and this cooperation signals a potential next step. It seems to me an intelligent synergy - good for everyone except cheap physical retailers who may get frozen out price-wise. Given the neurotic, spasmotic retail climate in China, streamlining things online should be good for consumers. And less public space given over to poorly-designed, empty malls could be a positive development.
At any rate, there is a Darwinian mall carnage ongoing in Shanghai and Beijing, resulting not so much from the economy as from overbuilding and poor planning. Increased online options may speed up the carnage - and then what? I remember the late 1990s, and all the cavernous empty discarded malls turned into discoteques, also quickly abandoned, but great spaces for underground rock concerts. Perhaps that is what will happen again.
*******
Uniqlo to Sell Online in China With Taobao
WWD, 17 April 2009
By Lisa Movius
“Just as everyone drinks coffee, and that has been turned into Starbucks, everyone wears clothes, and that can be made into a universal Uniqlo experience,” said Jack Ma, or Ma Yun in Chinese, chairman and chief executive of Taobao’s parent Alibaba Group.
“Look at McDonalds, Starbucks and such, they are all U.S. brands. We hope a Chinese or Japanese brand will become like them,” added Tadashi Yanai, founder of Uniqlo and president of its parent company Fast Retailing Co. Ltd.
Under the partnership, Uniqlo will have both a virtual shop on Taobao, plus a dedicated China Web site, uniqlo.cn, which will operate and sell through Taobao’s system.
Uniqlo opted to operate through Taobao in order to avail itself of the Web site’s user base of 100 million, who conducted 99.96 billion yuan, or $14.6 billion at current exchange, in transactions last year, according to the company. In recognition of limited credit card use in China, the new Uniqlo online store allows shoppers to purchase through their existing Taobao accounts. The collaboration additionally emerged out of Tadashi and Ma’s friendship since meeting at a conference two years ago, both emphasized.
“We have stores in cities like Beijing, Shanghai and Shenzhen, but online we can reach all of China — even in Tibet and Xinjiang we will have customers,” said Tadashi.
Pan Ning, Uniqlo’s China director, said the retailer had 21 stores in Mainland China as of June 2008, and that will have increased to 45 by June this year, out of 848 internationally, and is launching next week in Singapore. The brand’s Mainland sales doubled year-on-year in 2008.
“Within Asia, China is our main focus. The Internet provides great opportunities for both marketing and sales. It is a way to be available to consumers,” said Pan, who denied the Web platform might compete with Uniqlo’s expanding retail network. “The Web develops fast, and the relationship between the Internet and physical stores is symbiotic.”
The Web site launch marks not only the beginning of Uniqlo’s online presence in China, but also Taobao’s first dedicated site for an independent brand. Ma hopes to establish about a hundred such online shops through the site. “Taobao is not just consumer-to-consumer, but increasingly business-to-consumer,” he said. “Combining the Web with consumers is powerful.”
“At first we were modeled upon eBay,” continued Taobao president Lu Zhaoxi, “but three or four years ago we started wanting to become bigger than that, and not just be consumer-to-consumer.”
While Uniqlo is the trial effort for that, Ma added the brand has its own niche positioning. “If Uniqlo can spark the dreams of young Chinese people, then this will be successful,” he said.
I am an enthusiast of online shopping, and this cooperation signals a potential next step. It seems to me an intelligent synergy - good for everyone except cheap physical retailers who may get frozen out price-wise. Given the neurotic, spasmotic retail climate in China, streamlining things online should be good for consumers. And less public space given over to poorly-designed, empty malls could be a positive development.
At any rate, there is a Darwinian mall carnage ongoing in Shanghai and Beijing, resulting not so much from the economy as from overbuilding and poor planning. Increased online options may speed up the carnage - and then what? I remember the late 1990s, and all the cavernous empty discarded malls turned into discoteques, also quickly abandoned, but great spaces for underground rock concerts. Perhaps that is what will happen again.
*******
Uniqlo to Sell Online in China With Taobao
WWD, 17 April 2009
By Lisa Movius
“Just as everyone drinks coffee, and that has been turned into Starbucks, everyone wears clothes, and that can be made into a universal Uniqlo experience,” said Jack Ma, or Ma Yun in Chinese, chairman and chief executive of Taobao’s parent Alibaba Group.
“Look at McDonalds, Starbucks and such, they are all U.S. brands. We hope a Chinese or Japanese brand will become like them,” added Tadashi Yanai, founder of Uniqlo and president of its parent company Fast Retailing Co. Ltd.
Under the partnership, Uniqlo will have both a virtual shop on Taobao, plus a dedicated China Web site, uniqlo.cn, which will operate and sell through Taobao’s system.
Uniqlo opted to operate through Taobao in order to avail itself of the Web site’s user base of 100 million, who conducted 99.96 billion yuan, or $14.6 billion at current exchange, in transactions last year, according to the company. In recognition of limited credit card use in China, the new Uniqlo online store allows shoppers to purchase through their existing Taobao accounts. The collaboration additionally emerged out of Tadashi and Ma’s friendship since meeting at a conference two years ago, both emphasized.
“We have stores in cities like Beijing, Shanghai and Shenzhen, but online we can reach all of China — even in Tibet and Xinjiang we will have customers,” said Tadashi.
Pan Ning, Uniqlo’s China director, said the retailer had 21 stores in Mainland China as of June 2008, and that will have increased to 45 by June this year, out of 848 internationally, and is launching next week in Singapore. The brand’s Mainland sales doubled year-on-year in 2008.
“Within Asia, China is our main focus. The Internet provides great opportunities for both marketing and sales. It is a way to be available to consumers,” said Pan, who denied the Web platform might compete with Uniqlo’s expanding retail network. “The Web develops fast, and the relationship between the Internet and physical stores is symbiotic.”
The Web site launch marks not only the beginning of Uniqlo’s online presence in China, but also Taobao’s first dedicated site for an independent brand. Ma hopes to establish about a hundred such online shops through the site. “Taobao is not just consumer-to-consumer, but increasingly business-to-consumer,” he said. “Combining the Web with consumers is powerful.”
“At first we were modeled upon eBay,” continued Taobao president Lu Zhaoxi, “but three or four years ago we started wanting to become bigger than that, and not just be consumer-to-consumer.”
While Uniqlo is the trial effort for that, Ma added the brand has its own niche positioning. “If Uniqlo can spark the dreams of young Chinese people, then this will be successful,” he said.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Soma looking to open live house
A quick blip of music news: Soma Records, currently Shanghai's sole indie music label, is planning to open its own live house.
That's all the info I have so far, but I'll keep everyone posted.
Soma, run by singer Lao Yao aka Jaman Yashe formerly of Chan and singer Li Pang aka Pangpang of Crystal Butterfly, produces artists including Sarah Zhong Chi, Crazy Mushrooms, Little Nature and Momo. They did a compilation album of young bands out late last year entitled Indie Top 1 - hopefully the first of a series.
That's all the info I have so far, but I'll keep everyone posted.
Soma, run by singer Lao Yao aka Jaman Yashe formerly of Chan and singer Li Pang aka Pangpang of Crystal Butterfly, produces artists including Sarah Zhong Chi, Crazy Mushrooms, Little Nature and Momo. They did a compilation album of young bands out late last year entitled Indie Top 1 - hopefully the first of a series.
Lin Di album review and disclaimers
Also in this month's That's I reviewed Cold Fairyland's Lin Di aka Miyadudu's new solo album, Meet in Secret Garden.
Two disclaimers: first, Lin's a pretty good friend of mine, and I realize that makes my reviewage less than completely objective. But, regardless of the person, I quite like her music, and did long before I knew her well.
The second is an issue I take with the editing: some That's editors feel obliged to infuse everything with snark. While I'm a big snarker too, snark has its place, and in the wrong place it comes off as mean-spirited. I got them to remove most of the mean, but a "sappy" before "sentimentality" snuck in.
I don't think all sentimentality is necessarily sappy, nor is it in this album. I think it's sexist to brand a very feminine take on topics of love, life and loss as such. I also quite like the tracks about the cats, and rather resent (and resemble) the editor's implication that loving one's cats enough to write songs about them makes one a stupid little girl. Rock on, cat girls!
******
Album review: Miyadudu 米亚嘟嘟
Written by Lisa Movius
Meet in Secret Garden
Miyadudu is the alter ego of Cold Fairyland singer Lin Di, who was formally trained at the Shanghai Music Conservatory and is a skillful composer, arranger, keyboardist and pipa player. Along with Cold Fairyland's six albums, Lin previously recorded two solo albums, 2002's Ten Days in Magicland and 2004's Bride in Legend (both produced by Shanghai folk music legend Liu Xing and originally released by Taiwan's Wind Records).
Her latest effort, Meet in Secret Garden (Mimi Huayuan de Xiehou), from Jiuzhou Audiovisual, is distinct from the band releases as well as Lin's prior solo albums, with ten songs of ethereal electronica executed in shades of nostalgia and longing. Sappy sentimentality seems to be a major theme, if the lyrics on the cover are any indication: "Quietly listen to the flowers wither…" Love and cats also play a major part, with pictures of a white kitten dotting the liner notes (the singer's late pet Lumi, also immortalized on the track 'Lumi Pumpuli'; likewise, Lin's first cat Baibai is the subject of '3am (Lingchen San Dian)'), while 'Perfect Ghost I & II' delves into the supposed dreams of the ideal lover.
Still, the album's slower songs incorporate zings of Lin's folk and rock inclinations, as well as her latest experiments in electronica; the latter finds full bloom with the catchy, danceable and decidedly unsentimental 'Counting (Shushu).' Ultimately, a sense of contemplative melancholy runs throughout the album (which also features four instrumental tracks, including the title song). Consider this a softer, feminine, and more introspective side of Lin's persona.
Two disclaimers: first, Lin's a pretty good friend of mine, and I realize that makes my reviewage less than completely objective. But, regardless of the person, I quite like her music, and did long before I knew her well.
The second is an issue I take with the editing: some That's editors feel obliged to infuse everything with snark. While I'm a big snarker too, snark has its place, and in the wrong place it comes off as mean-spirited. I got them to remove most of the mean, but a "sappy" before "sentimentality" snuck in.
I don't think all sentimentality is necessarily sappy, nor is it in this album. I think it's sexist to brand a very feminine take on topics of love, life and loss as such. I also quite like the tracks about the cats, and rather resent (and resemble) the editor's implication that loving one's cats enough to write songs about them makes one a stupid little girl. Rock on, cat girls!
******
Album review: Miyadudu 米亚嘟嘟
Written by Lisa Movius
Meet in Secret Garden
Miyadudu is the alter ego of Cold Fairyland singer Lin Di, who was formally trained at the Shanghai Music Conservatory and is a skillful composer, arranger, keyboardist and pipa player. Along with Cold Fairyland's six albums, Lin previously recorded two solo albums, 2002's Ten Days in Magicland and 2004's Bride in Legend (both produced by Shanghai folk music legend Liu Xing and originally released by Taiwan's Wind Records).
Her latest effort, Meet in Secret Garden (Mimi Huayuan de Xiehou), from Jiuzhou Audiovisual, is distinct from the band releases as well as Lin's prior solo albums, with ten songs of ethereal electronica executed in shades of nostalgia and longing. Sappy sentimentality seems to be a major theme, if the lyrics on the cover are any indication: "Quietly listen to the flowers wither…" Love and cats also play a major part, with pictures of a white kitten dotting the liner notes (the singer's late pet Lumi, also immortalized on the track 'Lumi Pumpuli'; likewise, Lin's first cat Baibai is the subject of '3am (Lingchen San Dian)'), while 'Perfect Ghost I & II' delves into the supposed dreams of the ideal lover.
Still, the album's slower songs incorporate zings of Lin's folk and rock inclinations, as well as her latest experiments in electronica; the latter finds full bloom with the catchy, danceable and decidedly unsentimental 'Counting (Shushu).' Ultimately, a sense of contemplative melancholy runs throughout the album (which also features four instrumental tracks, including the title song). Consider this a softer, feminine, and more introspective side of Lin's persona.
New Article: That's on 0093
I have a feature on the 0093 practice space/music organization in this month's That's Shanghai. Text below, or link here. It was a lot of fun to do, catching up with the bands and organizers, and spending many an afternoon and evening hanging out down in the bunker.
We had to cut some interesting background material for space; and I’ll post the full draft online soon. One is that the space was originally opened by Wu Jun, who is rather a Shanghai rock legend by now. He and “Shanghai rock Godfather” Sun Mengjin in 1997 founded Godot, the city’s first punk band. Running until 2005, its rapidly revolving membership made it Shanghai’s “School of Rock” - so many of our top musicians had stints in Geduo. Wu, after handing 0093 over to Lao Jiang, opened a practice and recording studio on Wuxing Lu, which is smaller but a lot more professional than 0093, and the chart-hitting latest Honeys album, among others, was recorded there. Wu also was the organizer of the 1234 Beach Rock and RockIt! music festivals in ‘06 and ‘07, and for about 18 months organized the Sunday rock nights at Bonbon.
The 0093 compilation is intended as a tribute to the 2000 “Shanghai Underground” compilation album organized by Sun Mengjing and featuring trailblazing early Shanghai punk and metal bands like Prague Spring and Nutcracker (where Dingma’s Lu Chen first cut his teeth, and/or cracked his nuts). Back then ShRock was a bit dichotomized between the Punk and Pop Pies 派, but even entrenched as I was in the latter I recall what a splash the album made. Not many people remember those bands, or know how much they contributed to creating our current lushness, but I’m working on that.
Another thing we left out is the new 0093 performance venue: news of it is circulating online, but due to their lack of a performance license for it, mentioning it in the print media would have been risky.
The album was orginally supposed to be out this month, but now is expected in June. Which, in rocker time, means August.
*******
Enter the bunker of sound - 0093
Written by Lisa Movius
0093 is more than just a practice space, it's the pulsing heart of Shanghai's music scene
Number 93 Lingling Lu is easy to miss. If you're not looking carefully for the number plaque, all you'll see is the "Underground Shelter" sign on the sidewalk and the various advertisements for American Standard toilets around its door. Even upon discovery, it appears like a stairway leading down into nowhere, and rather feels that way for the first few minutes until the lights flicker bright enough to see the deco detailing on the walls. And only then, after you pass through a series of massive, ancient sealable doors (and start to hear the music) does this space's status as the nerve center of the Shanghai rock scene become obviously apparent.
Known now as 0093 – Lingling puns as double zero in Mandarin – this labyrinth of a former bomb shelter houses over ten dedicated rehearsal rooms where dozens of Shanghai's bands, particularly younger and more stylistically underground bands, practice their music. The venue has fomented a tightened musical community that has blossomed into a regular 0093 concert series, often giving new bands their first chance to step onstage.
Certainly, young Shanghai bands have been proliferating at an unprecedented rate over the past two years, and much of the support necessary to thrive can be attributed to 0093 and its directors Jiang Shaoqing (who goes by Lao Jiang) and Wang Xiaotian (known as Tiantian).
"There are a lot of new bands now, and they need to practice and to perform," says Yuyintang director Zhang Haisheng, who hosts the 0093 series at his venue. "0093 is first and foremost a practice space – and how can a band perform if it can't practice?" While there are many underground rehearsal venues in Shanghai – their most popular competition is Juju Studio on Huashan Lu – "0093 is the biggest, and the place to see and meet a lot of young bands."
"0093 gives Shanghai rock its own place, a communications base," explains Topfloor Circus (Dingma) singer Lu Chen. "To young bands, it's very important that they get practice and performance experience and get to know each other. I remember how much harder it was for us and other old bands before." Dingma began practicing at 0093 in 2003, back when the bunker hosted only one small rehearsal space deep inside its bowels. In 2006, the year Lao Jiang began managing the space, Dingma came out with their third album; all of its songs were written at Lingling Lu, and the band named the now-classic hard punk album Lingling Rd 93 Revisited, Timmy!
"Lao Jiang and Tiantian were entertained when it came out, we hadn't told them before," Lu Chen recalls. "They didn't react, but I could feel that after that they felt they could turn the place into a brand." By 2007, the directors had launched a Douban.com group, which remains the most active means for promoting their bands, and started using the name 0093. At the end of that year, Jiang recalls, they threw their first 0093 showcase. Held at Yuyintang, the concert was a small trial run for the massive official launch party a few weeks later at the now-defunct Four Live, which featured some of Shanghai's biggest names: Dingma, Yuguo, Torturing Nurse, Momo (then called Happy Strings), Chaos Mind, Muscle Snog, Mortal Fools and Crazy Mushroom Brigade, as well as a headlining spot for Beijing's Joyside.
Most of the subsequent 0093 showcases, including the ninth installment on April 3 at Yuyintang, have been smaller ticket affairs aimed at supporting unknown bands, but they did another big blowout show as an earthquake benefit last May. The eleven-band line-up included Banana Monkey, Little Nature, Boys Climbing Ropes and Bang Bang Tang, and was the downtown debut of new favorites Candy Shop (Tianpin Dian). "We've been practicing at 0093 since we started, and it's given us a lot of opportunities," says Candy Shop guitarist Nicholas Zoe. "We were in the Earthquake Benefit, our first big show, because Lao Jiang invited us. We attracted some attention then, [Yuyintang's] Zhang Haisheng offered us more shows, and that's how we got started." Many young bands tell similar tales.
Wang also runs a CD shop out of 0093, and a forthcoming compilation album will expand the organization's scope even further. Titled Indie Underground Vol. 1 and due out later this summer, it will feature eleven to twelve tracks, all from 0093 bands, including Dingma's 'Shanghai Welcomes You,' Banana Monkey's 'Double Trouble' and tracks by Bang Bang Tang, Candy Shop, Pinkberry, Hanging Gardens and Five-Pointed Star.
Jiang anticipates the compilation will be a souvenir of the bands and of a time, a poignant sentiment in the face of vague rumors that the space might be shut down next year for fire safety reasons. Lao Jiang denies the rumors, nonplussed about their source and too happily busy to worry, enthusiastically present around the clock although he no longer lives in the bunker as he did for two years. Lu Chen observes, "To do something, you need to have a feeling, whether it's having a band or a space. If you love it, you will do it well… Lao Jiang and Tiantian love the place, and love what they're doing. They're happy, and that's why 0093 works as a brand. Otherwise, it's very hard to do."
************
Four 0093 bands you need to hear
Top Floor Circus 顶楼马戏团
Dingma is pretty much the only Shanghainese band that other Shanghainese bands unambiguously admire. Formed in 2001 with renowned video artist Liang Yue contributing vocals, Dingma are famed for their Shanghainese lyrics and frontman Lu Chen's often maniacal onstage theatrics. Continuously evolving throughout their three albums thus far, they started folk and went punk, throwing their fans for a loop. Cold Fairyland's ex-bass player Su Yong migrated to the band last year, although Dingma is on a semi-hiatus until this autumn, with several members embarking on their own solo projects in the meantime.
Banana Monkey 香蕉猴
Banana Monkey have been staging a strong comeback with several shows per month after taking a break from May to October 2008. Their heady garage rock and energetic stage presence made them a favorite for club shows soon after their establishment in 2005, following stints in Marrow and other local bands. Banana Monkey's songs, with titles like 'Drunk Daddy,' 'Baby in Red' and 'You're So Pure' (many of which were written at 0093), are all in English and show self-confessed influences from Franz Ferdinand and The Strokes. Six to ten tracks will find their way onto a self-released EP later this year.
Candy Shop 甜品店
Founded in January 2008, Candy Shop first grabbed attention when they won Maxell's student band competition last April. Since debuting more publicly at the 0093 Earthquake benefit, they've bucked the student band trajectory and become nearly ubiquitous at Shanghai's main live venues. The name came about because their lead singer, Melodie Lee, "is tianmei" – sweet and beautiful – explains bass player Chris Cai. Guitarist Nicholas Zoe describes their Linkin Park-influenced style as "pop and nu metal, and now sort of rap-metal" since adding an MC, YKE Yang, but the group continues to experiment and evolve. So far Candy Shop has twelve original tracks, of which 'Four Ti Ti' was used in the recent film Park Shanghai. The band entertains ambitions of eventually signing with a major label – a possibility, given how far the group has come in just a year.
Bang Bang Tang 棒棒堂
Like Candy Shop, Bang Bang Tang (or Lollypop) debuted at one of Maxell's competitions in November 2007, a month after the band was formed. It also features a female singer – the charmingly geek-chic Xiao Bai – and is comprised mostly of students, rising to prominence through the 0093 showcases. However, Lollypop's style is decidedly indie pop, and along with their eight original songs, their sets are peppered with covers of musicians like Alanis Morissette, Janet Jackson and Joan Jett. Bang Bang Tang's 'A Song for my Angel' was included on last year's Neocha online compilation and the station FM 101.7 plays some of their songs; and the band hopes to release an album this year.
We had to cut some interesting background material for space; and I’ll post the full draft online soon. One is that the space was originally opened by Wu Jun, who is rather a Shanghai rock legend by now. He and “Shanghai rock Godfather” Sun Mengjin in 1997 founded Godot, the city’s first punk band. Running until 2005, its rapidly revolving membership made it Shanghai’s “School of Rock” - so many of our top musicians had stints in Geduo. Wu, after handing 0093 over to Lao Jiang, opened a practice and recording studio on Wuxing Lu, which is smaller but a lot more professional than 0093, and the chart-hitting latest Honeys album, among others, was recorded there. Wu also was the organizer of the 1234 Beach Rock and RockIt! music festivals in ‘06 and ‘07, and for about 18 months organized the Sunday rock nights at Bonbon.
The 0093 compilation is intended as a tribute to the 2000 “Shanghai Underground” compilation album organized by Sun Mengjing and featuring trailblazing early Shanghai punk and metal bands like Prague Spring and Nutcracker (where Dingma’s Lu Chen first cut his teeth, and/or cracked his nuts). Back then ShRock was a bit dichotomized between the Punk and Pop Pies 派, but even entrenched as I was in the latter I recall what a splash the album made. Not many people remember those bands, or know how much they contributed to creating our current lushness, but I’m working on that.
Another thing we left out is the new 0093 performance venue: news of it is circulating online, but due to their lack of a performance license for it, mentioning it in the print media would have been risky.
The album was orginally supposed to be out this month, but now is expected in June. Which, in rocker time, means August.
*******
Enter the bunker of sound - 0093
Written by Lisa Movius
0093 is more than just a practice space, it's the pulsing heart of Shanghai's music scene
Number 93 Lingling Lu is easy to miss. If you're not looking carefully for the number plaque, all you'll see is the "Underground Shelter" sign on the sidewalk and the various advertisements for American Standard toilets around its door. Even upon discovery, it appears like a stairway leading down into nowhere, and rather feels that way for the first few minutes until the lights flicker bright enough to see the deco detailing on the walls. And only then, after you pass through a series of massive, ancient sealable doors (and start to hear the music) does this space's status as the nerve center of the Shanghai rock scene become obviously apparent.
Known now as 0093 – Lingling puns as double zero in Mandarin – this labyrinth of a former bomb shelter houses over ten dedicated rehearsal rooms where dozens of Shanghai's bands, particularly younger and more stylistically underground bands, practice their music. The venue has fomented a tightened musical community that has blossomed into a regular 0093 concert series, often giving new bands their first chance to step onstage.
Certainly, young Shanghai bands have been proliferating at an unprecedented rate over the past two years, and much of the support necessary to thrive can be attributed to 0093 and its directors Jiang Shaoqing (who goes by Lao Jiang) and Wang Xiaotian (known as Tiantian).
"There are a lot of new bands now, and they need to practice and to perform," says Yuyintang director Zhang Haisheng, who hosts the 0093 series at his venue. "0093 is first and foremost a practice space – and how can a band perform if it can't practice?" While there are many underground rehearsal venues in Shanghai – their most popular competition is Juju Studio on Huashan Lu – "0093 is the biggest, and the place to see and meet a lot of young bands."
"0093 gives Shanghai rock its own place, a communications base," explains Topfloor Circus (Dingma) singer Lu Chen. "To young bands, it's very important that they get practice and performance experience and get to know each other. I remember how much harder it was for us and other old bands before." Dingma began practicing at 0093 in 2003, back when the bunker hosted only one small rehearsal space deep inside its bowels. In 2006, the year Lao Jiang began managing the space, Dingma came out with their third album; all of its songs were written at Lingling Lu, and the band named the now-classic hard punk album Lingling Rd 93 Revisited, Timmy!
"Lao Jiang and Tiantian were entertained when it came out, we hadn't told them before," Lu Chen recalls. "They didn't react, but I could feel that after that they felt they could turn the place into a brand." By 2007, the directors had launched a Douban.com group, which remains the most active means for promoting their bands, and started using the name 0093. At the end of that year, Jiang recalls, they threw their first 0093 showcase. Held at Yuyintang, the concert was a small trial run for the massive official launch party a few weeks later at the now-defunct Four Live, which featured some of Shanghai's biggest names: Dingma, Yuguo, Torturing Nurse, Momo (then called Happy Strings), Chaos Mind, Muscle Snog, Mortal Fools and Crazy Mushroom Brigade, as well as a headlining spot for Beijing's Joyside.
Most of the subsequent 0093 showcases, including the ninth installment on April 3 at Yuyintang, have been smaller ticket affairs aimed at supporting unknown bands, but they did another big blowout show as an earthquake benefit last May. The eleven-band line-up included Banana Monkey, Little Nature, Boys Climbing Ropes and Bang Bang Tang, and was the downtown debut of new favorites Candy Shop (Tianpin Dian). "We've been practicing at 0093 since we started, and it's given us a lot of opportunities," says Candy Shop guitarist Nicholas Zoe. "We were in the Earthquake Benefit, our first big show, because Lao Jiang invited us. We attracted some attention then, [Yuyintang's] Zhang Haisheng offered us more shows, and that's how we got started." Many young bands tell similar tales.
Wang also runs a CD shop out of 0093, and a forthcoming compilation album will expand the organization's scope even further. Titled Indie Underground Vol. 1 and due out later this summer, it will feature eleven to twelve tracks, all from 0093 bands, including Dingma's 'Shanghai Welcomes You,' Banana Monkey's 'Double Trouble' and tracks by Bang Bang Tang, Candy Shop, Pinkberry, Hanging Gardens and Five-Pointed Star.
Jiang anticipates the compilation will be a souvenir of the bands and of a time, a poignant sentiment in the face of vague rumors that the space might be shut down next year for fire safety reasons. Lao Jiang denies the rumors, nonplussed about their source and too happily busy to worry, enthusiastically present around the clock although he no longer lives in the bunker as he did for two years. Lu Chen observes, "To do something, you need to have a feeling, whether it's having a band or a space. If you love it, you will do it well… Lao Jiang and Tiantian love the place, and love what they're doing. They're happy, and that's why 0093 works as a brand. Otherwise, it's very hard to do."
************
Four 0093 bands you need to hear
Top Floor Circus 顶楼马戏团
Dingma is pretty much the only Shanghainese band that other Shanghainese bands unambiguously admire. Formed in 2001 with renowned video artist Liang Yue contributing vocals, Dingma are famed for their Shanghainese lyrics and frontman Lu Chen's often maniacal onstage theatrics. Continuously evolving throughout their three albums thus far, they started folk and went punk, throwing their fans for a loop. Cold Fairyland's ex-bass player Su Yong migrated to the band last year, although Dingma is on a semi-hiatus until this autumn, with several members embarking on their own solo projects in the meantime.
Banana Monkey 香蕉猴
Banana Monkey have been staging a strong comeback with several shows per month after taking a break from May to October 2008. Their heady garage rock and energetic stage presence made them a favorite for club shows soon after their establishment in 2005, following stints in Marrow and other local bands. Banana Monkey's songs, with titles like 'Drunk Daddy,' 'Baby in Red' and 'You're So Pure' (many of which were written at 0093), are all in English and show self-confessed influences from Franz Ferdinand and The Strokes. Six to ten tracks will find their way onto a self-released EP later this year.
Candy Shop 甜品店
Founded in January 2008, Candy Shop first grabbed attention when they won Maxell's student band competition last April. Since debuting more publicly at the 0093 Earthquake benefit, they've bucked the student band trajectory and become nearly ubiquitous at Shanghai's main live venues. The name came about because their lead singer, Melodie Lee, "is tianmei" – sweet and beautiful – explains bass player Chris Cai. Guitarist Nicholas Zoe describes their Linkin Park-influenced style as "pop and nu metal, and now sort of rap-metal" since adding an MC, YKE Yang, but the group continues to experiment and evolve. So far Candy Shop has twelve original tracks, of which 'Four Ti Ti' was used in the recent film Park Shanghai. The band entertains ambitions of eventually signing with a major label – a possibility, given how far the group has come in just a year.
Bang Bang Tang 棒棒堂
Like Candy Shop, Bang Bang Tang (or Lollypop) debuted at one of Maxell's competitions in November 2007, a month after the band was formed. It also features a female singer – the charmingly geek-chic Xiao Bai – and is comprised mostly of students, rising to prominence through the 0093 showcases. However, Lollypop's style is decidedly indie pop, and along with their eight original songs, their sets are peppered with covers of musicians like Alanis Morissette, Janet Jackson and Joan Jett. Bang Bang Tang's 'A Song for my Angel' was included on last year's Neocha online compilation and the station FM 101.7 plays some of their songs; and the band hopes to release an album this year.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Consider this a pre-post, complete with acronynymity. Today, after yoga in an abandoned mall, while waiting fifteen minutes at a Starbucks for my black coffee so I could escape the rudely chinglishing staff and go upstairs and read my Yu Hua's Xiongdi in peace, I encountered not one but two stories about Sangheiwu in one of their several museum copies of Shanghai Daily.
Sangheiwu has been on my mind a lot lately. See, I was really hoping to find a Sangheiwu class to sign up for, for the freshly springy Spring semester. Only, my assistant has found: there are none. At least, the ones I'd heard of near me have long since died out.
More on this travesty later: how can Shanghai have an English class on every corner, but no Shanghainese classes to be had for love or money? It is double colonialism, by English and Mandarin, while dismissing and destroying indigenous culture. Shame. In the meanwhile, here's what Shanghai Daily has to say:
****
WHAT'S wrong with speaking Shanghainese in Pudong? It's a question that has been boggling my mind of late.
The answer, to some, is self-evident. As a dialect, Shanghainese is too informal for office work. Hence, it is out of place to speak it in the gleaming financial hub of Lujiazui.
I partially agree with this view, but there's something about it that I cannot quite accept.
First, do we have to stick to speaking the alternatives - Mandarin Chinese and English - all the time while in Pudong, even between natives and during breaks?
Second, to paraphrase a bizarre theory spun by a local newspaper columnist, Shanghainese is so notoriously backward a dialect that only the most benighted indigenous folks are willing to speak it.
This is simply a rant against what the author calls the typical "ugliness" of Shanghainese' traits: conceit, snobbishness, shallowness, obsession with "petty bourgeois" and exotic satisfactions, a sense of superiority - or more precisely, delusion of superiority - and worst of all, contempt for provincial Chinese.
I make no attempt to gloss over the problems listed here, they do exist. To some extent, these are the very culprits that taint the otherwise polished image of Shanghai.
The author also implies that most "New Shanghainese" - generally referring to those hailing from outside the city and working in high-end industries - are the real elites at the top of the pecking order.
Their diligence and open-mindedness dovetail with the Zeitgeist underlying the city's dynamism, whereas the insular mentality of the "Old Shanghainese," complacent and epicurean, only hobbles Shanghai's rise as an international metropolis.
Pride and prejudice
This comparison, regardless of hints of intrinsic reason, will only undermine the integration of a new group commendable for its vigor, while slamming the seemingly pampered natives.
That, however, should not constrain us from acknowledging the uncomfortable truth: Shanghai was not known for its hospitality.
Emily Honig noted in "Creating Chinese Ethnicity: Subei People in Shanghai, 1850-1980" that as guest workers, Subeiren (people from northern Jiangsu Province) had to endure all kinds of prejudice and mistreatment by locals.
Despite this cultural disparagement of new settlers, Shanghai is still regarded as a city where opportunities abound, enabling many to realize their dreams.
The recent experimental reform of the permanent residence system, or hukou, in Shanghai, attests to the city's open and inclusive policies.
That some "New Shanghainese" feel they don't quite belong or are still perceived as outsiders is understandable.
What they should do is be more patient, delve deeper into the local heritage, explore for themselves both its merits and demerits before hastily denouncing anything Shanghai as patronizing and decadent. An attack on Shanghainese or Shanghainese dialect is beyond the pale.
For one thing, dialect, as a showcase of tradition, is what makes a regional culture distinctive and flourishing.
Picture a scene in which everyone speaks with the same cadenced Mandarin Chinese - no fun can be derived from such stilted conversations.
For another, speaking dialect is often the last stand against relentless modernization.
People who feel insecure as they are caught up in urban sprawl and rapid change find in their language of childhood a safe haven in the concrete jungle and towering skyscrapers that make no sense to them.
Bulldozed old houses and tumble-down longtang (lanes) fuel a certain nostalgia for the bygone days when demographic shift was modest and one could greet strangers with a cordial nonghao (hello).
No one knows how much longer Shanghainese can hold out against the onslaught of other dominant languages, but it should be guarded as intangible heirloom.
******
Shanghainese and Mandarin make city's melody
By John Gong 2009-2-19
AN article about the gradual disappearance of Shanghai dialect, particularly in Pudong's Lujiazui financial district, published in Xinmin Evening News on February 4, caused uproar among some Shanghainese.
To quote the article (a book excerpt): "It shows a lack of culture to speak in Shanghai dialect in Pudong."
As a third-generation Shanghainese, I think I am qualified to add my two cents to the outpouring of angry posts on the Internet.
Shanghai dialect is indeed fading away, but of course, it shall never die.
My niece, a 14-year-old girl who was brought up in Shanghai and still lives in this great city, never speaks with a hint of Shanghai dialect.
I don't even speak it myself when I return to the city every other weekend, apart from the time I spend with my parents.
In the old days, in the eyes of Shanghainese, you were either from Shanghai or a country bumpkin (somewhat like the Parisian versus the Provinceur cliche in France).
This is not uncommon among major metropolises around the world.
And you can't speak of Shanghai without comparing it to New York City.
Alas, the New York accent (there are different accents from different boroughs) is also disappearing, at least in Manhattan, according to professors quoted in New York magazine. It's part of a process called homogenization.
In addition, geographic mobility - many affluent and well-educated Manhattanites are transplants from elsewhere - has made New York a less locally focused place.
In a sense, the disappearance of the local dialect is a harbinger of a city's economic prosperity, the form of new businesses and human talents drawn to it.
Lujiazui's spectacular skyline speaks volume about this phenomenon, and we Shanghainese should all be thankful for it.
But what differentiates great cities from good cities are the unique social and cultural enrichment and heritage from the city's history.
And that certainly includes its dialect, which makes the language sing.
In that regard, cities like Los Angeles and Houston pale in comparison with the Big Apple.
Sometimes I sorely miss my days of living in New Jersey State across the Hudson River many years ago.
My wife worked in midtown Manhattan on Sixth Avenue. We spent many nights enjoying city life, and learned "tawking" with a New York accent, for things like "cawfee," "chawclat" and "dawg wawking."
I equally miss the days of growing up in a small lane in Shanghai, when unlike my 14-year old niece, we kids all spoke in Shanghai dialect.
It is not just a beautiful dialect, but it also connotes certain meanings and is spoken with an attitude.
Speaking like a Shanghainese is less about what you say, and more about how you say it.
We Shanghainese are known for being savvy, opinionated and confident. We are also known for being chic and cosmopolitan, especially the beautiful Shanghainese ladies.
Sweet home
I once had a friendly exchange with two colleagues, one from Singapore and one from Hong Kong. After they bragged about their hometowns, I said, "Unlike Singapore, Hong Kong is a place you want to visit again no matter where you are from. But Shanghai is a place you want to call home."
Indeed, there are countless people from Hong Kong and Singapore who call Shanghai home now. So as Shanghainese, let's not lament the disappearance of our dialect in Lujiazui.
Just like the New York accent, which is distinctive in boroughs like Brooklyn and Bronx, Shanghai dialect is the long-lived mother tongue for working people in various districts in Shanghai. And we shall all feel proud of it.
(The author is an economist based in Beijing. His e-mail: johngong@gmail.com.)
Sangheiwu has been on my mind a lot lately. See, I was really hoping to find a Sangheiwu class to sign up for, for the freshly springy Spring semester. Only, my assistant has found: there are none. At least, the ones I'd heard of near me have long since died out.
More on this travesty later: how can Shanghai have an English class on every corner, but no Shanghainese classes to be had for love or money? It is double colonialism, by English and Mandarin, while dismissing and destroying indigenous culture. Shame. In the meanwhile, here's what Shanghai Daily has to say:
****
Nonghao: An intangible heirloom
By Ni Tao 2009-2-19
WHAT'S wrong with speaking Shanghainese in Pudong? It's a question that has been boggling my mind of late.
The answer, to some, is self-evident. As a dialect, Shanghainese is too informal for office work. Hence, it is out of place to speak it in the gleaming financial hub of Lujiazui.
I partially agree with this view, but there's something about it that I cannot quite accept.
First, do we have to stick to speaking the alternatives - Mandarin Chinese and English - all the time while in Pudong, even between natives and during breaks?
Second, to paraphrase a bizarre theory spun by a local newspaper columnist, Shanghainese is so notoriously backward a dialect that only the most benighted indigenous folks are willing to speak it.
This is simply a rant against what the author calls the typical "ugliness" of Shanghainese' traits: conceit, snobbishness, shallowness, obsession with "petty bourgeois" and exotic satisfactions, a sense of superiority - or more precisely, delusion of superiority - and worst of all, contempt for provincial Chinese.
I make no attempt to gloss over the problems listed here, they do exist. To some extent, these are the very culprits that taint the otherwise polished image of Shanghai.
The author also implies that most "New Shanghainese" - generally referring to those hailing from outside the city and working in high-end industries - are the real elites at the top of the pecking order.
Their diligence and open-mindedness dovetail with the Zeitgeist underlying the city's dynamism, whereas the insular mentality of the "Old Shanghainese," complacent and epicurean, only hobbles Shanghai's rise as an international metropolis.
Pride and prejudice
This comparison, regardless of hints of intrinsic reason, will only undermine the integration of a new group commendable for its vigor, while slamming the seemingly pampered natives.
That, however, should not constrain us from acknowledging the uncomfortable truth: Shanghai was not known for its hospitality.
Emily Honig noted in "Creating Chinese Ethnicity: Subei People in Shanghai, 1850-1980" that as guest workers, Subeiren (people from northern Jiangsu Province) had to endure all kinds of prejudice and mistreatment by locals.
Despite this cultural disparagement of new settlers, Shanghai is still regarded as a city where opportunities abound, enabling many to realize their dreams.
The recent experimental reform of the permanent residence system, or hukou, in Shanghai, attests to the city's open and inclusive policies.
That some "New Shanghainese" feel they don't quite belong or are still perceived as outsiders is understandable.
What they should do is be more patient, delve deeper into the local heritage, explore for themselves both its merits and demerits before hastily denouncing anything Shanghai as patronizing and decadent. An attack on Shanghainese or Shanghainese dialect is beyond the pale.
For one thing, dialect, as a showcase of tradition, is what makes a regional culture distinctive and flourishing.
Picture a scene in which everyone speaks with the same cadenced Mandarin Chinese - no fun can be derived from such stilted conversations.
For another, speaking dialect is often the last stand against relentless modernization.
People who feel insecure as they are caught up in urban sprawl and rapid change find in their language of childhood a safe haven in the concrete jungle and towering skyscrapers that make no sense to them.
Bulldozed old houses and tumble-down longtang (lanes) fuel a certain nostalgia for the bygone days when demographic shift was modest and one could greet strangers with a cordial nonghao (hello).
No one knows how much longer Shanghainese can hold out against the onslaught of other dominant languages, but it should be guarded as intangible heirloom.
******
Shanghainese and Mandarin make city's melody
By John Gong 2009-2-19
AN article about the gradual disappearance of Shanghai dialect, particularly in Pudong's Lujiazui financial district, published in Xinmin Evening News on February 4, caused uproar among some Shanghainese.
To quote the article (a book excerpt): "It shows a lack of culture to speak in Shanghai dialect in Pudong."
As a third-generation Shanghainese, I think I am qualified to add my two cents to the outpouring of angry posts on the Internet.
Shanghai dialect is indeed fading away, but of course, it shall never die.
My niece, a 14-year-old girl who was brought up in Shanghai and still lives in this great city, never speaks with a hint of Shanghai dialect.
I don't even speak it myself when I return to the city every other weekend, apart from the time I spend with my parents.
In the old days, in the eyes of Shanghainese, you were either from Shanghai or a country bumpkin (somewhat like the Parisian versus the Provinceur cliche in France).
This is not uncommon among major metropolises around the world.
And you can't speak of Shanghai without comparing it to New York City.
Alas, the New York accent (there are different accents from different boroughs) is also disappearing, at least in Manhattan, according to professors quoted in New York magazine. It's part of a process called homogenization.
In addition, geographic mobility - many affluent and well-educated Manhattanites are transplants from elsewhere - has made New York a less locally focused place.
In a sense, the disappearance of the local dialect is a harbinger of a city's economic prosperity, the form of new businesses and human talents drawn to it.
Lujiazui's spectacular skyline speaks volume about this phenomenon, and we Shanghainese should all be thankful for it.
But what differentiates great cities from good cities are the unique social and cultural enrichment and heritage from the city's history.
And that certainly includes its dialect, which makes the language sing.
In that regard, cities like Los Angeles and Houston pale in comparison with the Big Apple.
Sometimes I sorely miss my days of living in New Jersey State across the Hudson River many years ago.
My wife worked in midtown Manhattan on Sixth Avenue. We spent many nights enjoying city life, and learned "tawking" with a New York accent, for things like "cawfee," "chawclat" and "dawg wawking."
I equally miss the days of growing up in a small lane in Shanghai, when unlike my 14-year old niece, we kids all spoke in Shanghai dialect.
It is not just a beautiful dialect, but it also connotes certain meanings and is spoken with an attitude.
Speaking like a Shanghainese is less about what you say, and more about how you say it.
We Shanghainese are known for being savvy, opinionated and confident. We are also known for being chic and cosmopolitan, especially the beautiful Shanghainese ladies.
Sweet home
I once had a friendly exchange with two colleagues, one from Singapore and one from Hong Kong. After they bragged about their hometowns, I said, "Unlike Singapore, Hong Kong is a place you want to visit again no matter where you are from. But Shanghai is a place you want to call home."
Indeed, there are countless people from Hong Kong and Singapore who call Shanghai home now. So as Shanghainese, let's not lament the disappearance of our dialect in Lujiazui.
Just like the New York accent, which is distinctive in boroughs like Brooklyn and Bronx, Shanghai dialect is the long-lived mother tongue for working people in various districts in Shanghai. And we shall all feel proud of it.
(The author is an economist based in Beijing. His e-mail: johngong@gmail.com.)
Friday, January 2, 2009
Hanging Gardens brit up the next generation
I had a great time interviewing these kids, who I've been curious about since first hearing their music online. Brit rock remains the core of Shanghainese rock, as pioneered by my old friends The Honeys and Crystal Butterfly, among others. I was glad to see that they keep on influencing young bands; and Hanging Garden's earnestness yet humorousness made me grin. Here's the article in January's "That's Shanghai".
Check out more from these great young Shanghai men at www.douban.com/artist/Hanginggardens/.
Written by Lisa Movius
Tuesday, 30 December 2008 14:45
Sonic gardens of Babylon
A fresh young foursome hope to cultivate the local rock scene
Most bands wait until they have an album to promote or a reputation to uphold before going on tour, but the lads of young Shanghainese band Hanging Gardens (Kongzhong Huayuan) decided not to let that keep them from
hitting the road this summer and fall. Formed only in March last year, the foursome organized outdoor shows at twenty different Jiangsu and Zhejiang cities between July and October.
“A few people knew we would play and there was only standing room, so they would bring a chair from home,” recalls singer Jiang Lei, a lanky heartthrob who also goes by Leo and who, despite working at a bank by day, sports a brown-dyed mop and owns a natural rockstar swagger. “We were most impressed at Zhouzhuang – a lot of people came to see us,” adds guitarist Ruan Feng, or Ryan. “The most important thing is feeling. We were all helping each other out, and bonded a lot.”
Shanghai is famously known for its sensitive men, and Hanging Gardens’ members, aged 23 to 25, wax lyrical about feelings. “We don’t have a specific style; we like and make all sorts of music, and follow our own feelings,” Ruan emphasized. “Our name is from Babylon, the gardens were for the king and were very romantic. We all like that image, and want our music to have that sort of romance and idea.”
The band members – drummer and IT worker Xia Weigong, aka Sammy, and bassist Tan Zhen, who goes by Van, along with Ruan and Jiang – first met in college (Tan is still studying). All of them were in different student bands at different schools at the Songjiang University Town. “We all liked the same sort of music so [we] joined up,” explains Ruan. The band has thus far written eight original tracks, and plans to underground release an album later this year. “We want to do an album independently because that way all of our ideas and options are our own. With a company, we’d have to listen to them, and couldn’t do our own things,” says Ruan. “Our goal is that we will have good memories when we’re old, and that we’ll have a few good albums to help us remember them.”
Along with the tour, the group plays regularly around Shanghai and has proven the standouts at group gigs like the 0093 Showcase and Yuyintang’s Brit-rock nights. Hanging Gardens eschew stylistic pigeonholing, but predictably cite The Beatles, Coldplay, Radiohead and other British rock groups as influences. Their favorite Beijing bands are Super VC and Convenience Store. “In Shanghai, we like Little Nature, they’re very good and are good friends of ours, plus Crystal Butterfly; some of our songs resemble theirs and they perform well but all too rarely. We also like Lanting, but they’ve broken up, and Blue Garden, except they’ve gone too pop,” Ruan states. “Now Shanghai has 0093 and Yuyintang, so the environment is pretty good, but we lack many very good bands. So we all have a good opportunity to break out and give Shanghai a standing in China.”
Yuyintang, January 1 and 10 (5237 8660).
Check out more from these great young Shanghai men at www.douban.com/artist/Hanginggardens/.
******
Shanghai band Hanging GardensWritten by Lisa Movius
Tuesday, 30 December 2008 14:45
Sonic gardens of Babylon
A fresh young foursome hope to cultivate the local rock scene
Most bands wait until they have an album to promote or a reputation to uphold before going on tour, but the lads of young Shanghainese band Hanging Gardens (Kongzhong Huayuan) decided not to let that keep them from
hitting the road this summer and fall. Formed only in March last year, the foursome organized outdoor shows at twenty different Jiangsu and Zhejiang cities between July and October.
“A few people knew we would play and there was only standing room, so they would bring a chair from home,” recalls singer Jiang Lei, a lanky heartthrob who also goes by Leo and who, despite working at a bank by day, sports a brown-dyed mop and owns a natural rockstar swagger. “We were most impressed at Zhouzhuang – a lot of people came to see us,” adds guitarist Ruan Feng, or Ryan. “The most important thing is feeling. We were all helping each other out, and bonded a lot.”
Shanghai is famously known for its sensitive men, and Hanging Gardens’ members, aged 23 to 25, wax lyrical about feelings. “We don’t have a specific style; we like and make all sorts of music, and follow our own feelings,” Ruan emphasized. “Our name is from Babylon, the gardens were for the king and were very romantic. We all like that image, and want our music to have that sort of romance and idea.”
The band members – drummer and IT worker Xia Weigong, aka Sammy, and bassist Tan Zhen, who goes by Van, along with Ruan and Jiang – first met in college (Tan is still studying). All of them were in different student bands at different schools at the Songjiang University Town. “We all liked the same sort of music so [we] joined up,” explains Ruan. The band has thus far written eight original tracks, and plans to underground release an album later this year. “We want to do an album independently because that way all of our ideas and options are our own. With a company, we’d have to listen to them, and couldn’t do our own things,” says Ruan. “Our goal is that we will have good memories when we’re old, and that we’ll have a few good albums to help us remember them.”
Along with the tour, the group plays regularly around Shanghai and has proven the standouts at group gigs like the 0093 Showcase and Yuyintang’s Brit-rock nights. Hanging Gardens eschew stylistic pigeonholing, but predictably cite The Beatles, Coldplay, Radiohead and other British rock groups as influences. Their favorite Beijing bands are Super VC and Convenience Store. “In Shanghai, we like Little Nature, they’re very good and are good friends of ours, plus Crystal Butterfly; some of our songs resemble theirs and they perform well but all too rarely. We also like Lanting, but they’ve broken up, and Blue Garden, except they’ve gone too pop,” Ruan states. “Now Shanghai has 0093 and Yuyintang, so the environment is pretty good, but we lack many very good bands. So we all have a good opportunity to break out and give Shanghai a standing in China.”
Yuyintang, January 1 and 10 (5237 8660).
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