Live Music Blossoms from the Grassroots

It is 9 p.m., and on stage stand three middle-aged men, their vocals powerful, their lyrics exhorting the youth of Taiwan to "sing [their] own songs." The band is Rock O. E., and the location is Taipei's best-equipped live house, The Wall. Rock O. E. was formed 17 years ago as Oriental Express, and had a brief brush with fame as their song "Rock Your Youth"--the same one they're performing now--made it big. However, many rock fans back in the late 80s thought of them as "a bunch of pretty boys playing at being a band," and "having no live chops."

At the time, the band had no chance to put these doubts to rest, as live venues were few and far between, and aside from major stars like Luo Ta-you, big concert events were virtually non-existent. Seeing the on-stage power of Rock O. E. today, though, those critics can do little more than gasp.

Old bands clinging to the remnants of a fading youth and new bands looking for a break both flood live houses around Taiwan. Such venues offer independent acts a chance to build a fan base and hone their skills, and have been a driving force behind the recent growth in independent music and the growing focus on bands rather than individual stars.

Kungliao, in Taipei County, hosts the annual Hohaiyan music festival, currently the festival draws the largest crowds in Taiwan, with over 100,000 people coming each year. This photo captures the vibrancy of the 2004 festival.

The power of live music

Cultural critic Ho Tung-hung notes that in the past, the only factor anyone in the Taiwanese music market paid attention to was record sales, but since 2000 and the rise of live performances, more and more people are seeing the importance of live houses, music festivals, music stores, practice rooms, and studios. "In other countries, such elements are not only a vibrant part of the music industry, they're vital to whether the country develops a vibrant and diverse musical culture."

In the past, Taiwanese singers were generally built into stars in the same manner: first the labels would find a newcomer they thought could become a "big seller," then they'd saturate the public with commercials, music videos, and tabloid puffery, all aimed at building their newcomer into a megastar and mega-earner for the company as quickly as possible. Then they'd have the new star release an album, and sales would go through the roof. From a cultural perspective, though, this whole process is unnatural.

Overseas, singers and bands generally have to slog through live gig after live gig before they get their big break, honing their skills over a long period of time, becoming more skilled performers. Then, at last, they might have their chance to make it big. "Performance venues and music festivals are the roots of a real music culture; they're absolutely vital!" emphasizes Ho.

So what is it about live performances that has such an attraction for music fans? As technology has developed, says Wong Chia-ming, it has given people more ways to listen to music; however, though CDs, MP3s, ringtones, and the like might be convenient, they're also cold and lifeless. "People are afraid of feeling isolated, and by being amongst the warmth of a crowd, experiencing the excitement of a live performance, they get reassurance that they are not alone in this world."

The rapid rise of the MP3 format has meant it's quicker and easier than ever to copy and disseminate albums, and the numbers of people buying physical albums are shrinking. But the different settings, atmospheres, and crowd responses at live performances make each one unique. There's no way to copy that kind of one-off experience, and this has created a more "experiential" music culture, different in nature to just listening to a CD.

Music festivals

For the many people who may not have been to a live house before, music festivals are an important conduit for live performance. The main attraction of festivals lies in the colorful spectacle they provide; crowd size isn't restricted the way it is at indoor venues, and the audience can move around freely, sit down where and when they feel like it, and generally experience the spirit of freedom that defines music. Several such festivals in other countries have become musical icons, such as America's 1969 hippie-fueled Woodstock, and Glastonbury in the United Kingdom, which has been running for 36 years and attracts over 100,000 people each year.

Music fans in Taiwan currently have a selection of four different festivals, each with its own particular style and audience. These four festivals, the first in early spring and the last at the peak of autumn, are Spring Scream, Hohaiyan, Formoz, and the Migration Music Festival.

In the spring of 1995, American expats and musicians Jimi Moe and Wade Davis set about organizing their own festival, naming it Spring Scream. Fueled by a sense of brotherhood, the purpose of Spring Scream is to give musicians and fans a chance to relax and enjoy live performances in a setting of sun, sand, and surf. With no government funding, Spring Scream's primary source of funding comes from its NT$1000-ish tickets, and as a result while the performances and equipment may not be the pinnacle of professional quality, the relaxed and casual atmosphere is inimitable.

Each July, at the peak of summer, Kungliao in Taipei County plays host to the Hohaiyan music festival. Started in 2000 as a joint venture between the Taipei County Government and indie label TCM Music, Hohaiyan has seen increasing crowds in recent years, becoming the most famous of Taiwan's top four festivals.

Hohaiyan is primarily split into two sections, the shows and a battle of the bands. The shows themselves come in two flavors, the main stage, which boasts highly professional invited performers, and the smaller stage, where bands can sign up and play. While the performances on the smaller stage may be iffy and audiences hard to come by, occasionally one can catch a glimpse of something truly fresh and new. One example is the band Sodagreen, who were discovered by producer Will Lin while playing on the small stage.

The competition, the Hohaiyan Indie Music Awards, is open to entrants from throughout the Chinese-speaking indie music world, and offers a first prize of NT$200,000. Many bands and artists have got their big breaks through this competition, including Tizzy Bac, Won Fu, Totem, and Zhang Xuan, all of whom are now well-known "graduates" of the awards.

Offering free entry, Hohaiyan has gained the attention and financial support of both the county government and big business, and the crowds have exploded in size in recent years. However, while many people go for the rowdy, fun-filled atmosphere as well as the music, this has also become a cause for complaint from many. In 2006, due to differences between Taipei County Government and original organizers TCM Music, Hohaiyan split into two festivals, casting a dark shadow over the future of the event.

In contrast to Hohaiyan, the late-July Formoz festival, organized by the Taiwan Rock Alliance and headed up by Freddy Lin, vocalist for local metal band ChthoniC, began as a small festival for bands from universities and vocational colleges in northern Taiwan in 1995. In recent years the festival has come into its own, and now it spans three days, boasting over a hundred acts and ticket-purchasing crowds of over 10,000. Formoz has become the premier event in the Taiwanese musical calendar, and is Taiwan's most professional music festival. With crowds of people willing to spend upward of NT$1000 at the gate, it's a haven for the true music fan. They even make the pilgrimage from as far afield as Hong Kong and Japan, making Formoz one of East Asia's main music festivals.

Finally, in early October as autumn draws to a close, Trees Music and Art holds the annual Migration Music Festival. The average age of the audience is generally higher than that of the other festivals, and the event is more educational, largely focusing on folk and world music from around the globe. Migration Music Festival brings together ethnic minorities from all corners of the planet, adding discussions on migration, land, borders, and other such important topics to the mix, hoping to create a festival that is about more than simply listening to music, but also about understanding the issues that people from all different cultures face in today's world.

With these four festivals now well rooted in the local scene, music festivals have been on the rise in general in Taiwan. In the last two years, mainstream labels have jumped on the bandwagon, holding festivals like the Taike Rock Concert and the Urban Simple Life festival, and getting decent ticket sales. Some people have even called 2006 the "Genesis of the Music Festival," and consider this an indicator that Taiwan is leading the Chinese-language music world.

The rise of live performance venues in recent years has given young bands more chances to shine. This picture shows band Sodagreen performing as part of a concert series at The Wall.

Live culture

If music festivals are the Sundance of underground music, then live houses are their arthouse theaters. In these venues, true artists can get regular chances to show their skills in public, instead of just locking themselves away in their home studios, or begging for recognition from a label.

The culture of the live house is different to that of the old familiar musical restaurant or pub: the music restaurant is more about the food, with the music relegated to background accompaniment, while the music pub is a place for people to drink, relieve stress, and chat, with the music a minor addition. Live houses, on the other hand, are primarily performance venues, and if you go to one expecting to jawbone with your buddies or chow down on some grub, you'll be sorely disappointed.

More and more such venues are appearing around Taipei, primarily focused around the Kungkuan area, next to National Taiwan University. The four most iconic venues are The Wall, which aims for the younger bands; Underworld, which is more of an arty scene; Witch House, with its emphasis on folk music; and Riverside Music Cafe, which attracts more middle-aged performers. Islandwide there are over 20 main performance venues, which have become testing grounds for artists and places for them to train their basic performance skills.

Formoz has become one of East Asia's top rock events. This picture shows Japanese band The Back Horn performing at the 2005 festival.

Sing it loud

Just as the excitement over arthouse films generated by the Sundance doesn't necessarily translate to big business for the theaters, the raucous crowds that free music festivals attract haven't flowed over to the live houses, which are in business all year round. Music critic Wong Chia-ming proposes that the government reduce the number of such free festivals: "There's no need to rush this, nor to try and milk it as soon as possible. Instead, we should let the live houses and music festivals develop and grow the market. That would be far more beneficial to the music industry in terms of long-term sustainability."

On December 3, 2006, mainstream record labels worked together with UniPresident Corporation, spending NT$30 million on holding the Urban Simple Life festival at Huashan Culture Park. The festival combined pop music with yuppie sensibilities, bringing in a huge crowd and considerable ticket sales. However the reduction of the spirit of "Lifestyles of Health and Sustainability" (LOHAS) to nothing more than a means to stimulate consumer impulses has met with no small amount of criticism.

Coincidentally, during the same time as the Urban Simple Life festival, a group of young, local bands came together to hold their own independent festival, spending over NT$70,000 to hold the Hill Festival at an abandoned copper processing works in Chinkuashih, showing another means for music to return to true simplicity.

It seems December 3 has become an unusually significant date for Taiwanese popular music. It was on that date in 1976 that singer Li Shuang-tze, then a student at Tamkang University, stood on stage on campus and smashed a Coca Cola bottle, symbolizing foreign culture, and exhorted his fellow students to "sing [their] own songs," in what would become the opening number in the folk music movement. Now, 30 years later, with a new music festival in the background, courageous Taiwanese singers are finally able to head to live houses and music festivals of their own, facing their audiences and boldly singing their own songs. Taiwan's music scene is beginning to flower, and in such fertile soil it is sure to grow into something beautiful and long-lived.