by Lisa Movius
Is it really fair to base an assessment of Shanghai's rock
scene on the opinions of a bunch of Beijing residents who
spend their time in Shanghai hanging out at [the upscale
eatery] M on the Bund?
There's only one real defining point between the
development of rock in Beijing and Shanghai. Cui Jian's rise
in 1987 created an example for Beijing's rockers to
follow. Shanghai's breakthrough rocker, Zhang Xing, who
rose to fame in 1984 when Lao Cui was still struggling to
learn them Beatles chords, got his ass hauled into jail. Can
you really blame Shanghai's early rockers for choosing to keep
a low profile? After Cui Jian and the gaggle of "first
generation" bands rose to prominence, an entire cottage
industry of bands, record labels, and performance venues
sprung up.
Beijing rock had its heyday in the late 1980s and early
1990s. Even then, so-called rock with Chinese characteristics
was often a mediocre imitation of Western styles. Beijing
rock's importance was found in its social and political
implications, its ability to appeal in message and energy to
the very disillusioned youth of that era. When judged by the
standards of music quality, it falls short. The relatively
high levels of early Beijing albums was due at least as much
to the involvement of Taiwanese and Hong Kong producers as to
any particular genius of the musicians. Ever wonder why the
early bands' second albums are never as good as the
first? Ask any Shanghainese rocker what music they
listen to, and you'll get the same answer. "When young, we
listened to Beijing rock, because it was the only rock easily
available. But now, why listen to the imitation when you can
get the real thing?" I should point out that the very worst of
Shanghai's bands, Tieyulan, who are a running joke in
Shanghai, imitate Beijing bands. Which is why they suck and
which is why they got a record contract in Beijing.
Things have been going downhill in Beijing since the first
generation. From mobs of Bon Jovi imitators, we went to hordes
of Green Day wannabees. For every shine of hope, whether
the "shows lots of promise" Hua'r or the eclectically
eccentric "NO," you have half a dozen wet rags whose albums
you listen to once and then toss to the back of your closet,
along the lines of Thin Man, Catcher in the Rye, or Hu Mage.
Most of them should be sent back to guitar 101, and even the
good musicians end up wasted on horrendous song writing. The
older bands, meanwhile, struggle desperately to maintain some
shred of their former glory.
Yup, Beijing has lots of sources of inspiration like the
Forbidden City. Maybe that's why the city - and it's culture -
is stuck in a rut and eternally looking back. Ask your average
Chinese, especially someone not a rock fan and not a
Beijinger, their thoughts on rock. They'll recall Cui Jian,
Hei Bao, and Tang Chao with fond nostalgia. Beijing rocked,
once upon a time. Shanghai's people and Shanghai's musicians
are more forward looking. They don't want to recreate any
previous glory days, they want to move forward and create
their own vision. Shanghai has some thirty to forty active
bands, about ten of which would kick some Beijing ass if given
the chance. Not to mention nearby cities like Hangzhou and
Nanjing, with vibrant bands comprised partially of
Shanghainese.
Sure, Shanghai rocks, and it rocks with a lot more energy
and originality than Beijing has shown for a long, long time.
But, of course, you won't find that out living in Beijing...
or hanging out at M on the Bund.
Lisa Movius, Shanghai Listings Editor for ChinaNow.com,
knows the long-hairs of Shanghai. All 8 of them.
