"There is no one like him in pop music who has maintained such a definite standard in music and lyrics."--United Daily News reporter Jao Jenchi, Taipei.

"Among Chinese, anybody who sees himself as having taste likes him." -- Hwang Li-oh, producer of a Malaysian radio program of Chinese music.

"His lyrics are striking and moving, and at the same time can ease my heart."--A mainland Chinese democracy activist now living in exile in Japan.

"There is explosiveness and accusation hidden in his songs; you couldn't write things like that without profound skill and sensitivity."--Chin Chun, author and singer, Singapore.

"He uses pop music to express the voice of the era. He takes themes for which others believe there is no market, and not only does them well but is widely popular. He is not only a musical genius, he understands the market."--Chen Ke-hwa, doctor and poet, Taipei.

They are all talking about Luo Ta-you--a different element on the pop music scene who is recognized and admired by intellectuals and loved by Chinese of all lands.

Secret Please: The Music Factory, located on Hong kong Island, is posted on the 17th floor overlooking the busy roadways and harbor, with Kowloon across the bay in the distance. The office, about 20 p'ing (about 720 square feet) large, is divided up with brick for the lower half and glass for the upper, giving the whole office a clean, modern appearance combined with a solid, practical feel. "I want everybody to be able to see what everyone else is doing, so there are no secrets," says Luo, explaining his "openness" through his office layout. Having taken off his dark shades, and with his latest work, Queen's Rd. East, on the lips of even teenyboppers, Luo Ta-you certainly has opened up a great deal.

Why especially stress "openness"?

"You have to have contact with all kinds of people, and compare, that's the only way you can understand what kind of Chinese you are," he says.

Luo left Taipei to go to New York in March 1985. "At that time Tawian only had the 'Tangwai' [non-KMT politicians] and didn't yet have the Democratic Progressive Party. When I released 'The Orphan of Asia,' some in the Kuomintang thought my lyrics had political implications and were offended. Later the album Home was released, and people in the Tangwai asked how I could return to romanticism and lose my political stance!" relates Luo, laughing. Further, at that time he was exhausted, couldn't create, and began to doubt the possibility of just doing music for a living, and so he took his sister's suggestion and went to New York.

In Posthumous Letters of Yesterday, in which he recorded his experiences growing up before leaving Taiwan, Luo wrote--in the first line on the first page--that "Every person I see makes me annoyed." He records that at that time he temporarily left music, and returned to work in a hospital: "I sat alone in the darkened X-ray room, silent. My emotions were turbulent, my music at a dead end, stuck in my new work environment." In the end, he decided to leave the dark behind, and find his own way.

A Down-to-Earth Life: "I like New York." says Luo, explaining the reasons: Because it is the headquarters of global capitalism, and holds all together the best and the worst, the most beautiful and the most ugly, the wealthiest and the poorest. In this urban civilization, you might be chewed up and spit out anytime, creating a sense of danger and apprehension, so people had better make sure they get their own status clear.

"I like this feeling, and truly felt free." There was no one hovering about, no fans, no omnipresent media lights. He lived in an apartment in the Village in Manhattan, where many artists are concentrated. Seventy percent of his neighbors were Puerto Ricans. Marijuana and cocaine could be purchased in his building. In this dangerous environment, Luo Ta-you, on the one hand, was taking classes in medical school, preparing to test for a doctor's license in the US, and at the same time practicing vocals, making friends, and reassessing his values. "In my two years in New York, I lived a very down-to-earth life," he concludes.

Settled in Hong kong, Looking to All Chinese: "I wavered between medicine and music for fifteen years," offers Luo, whose whole family are doctors and who attended medical school himself. Both of these are highly demanding, specialized occupations, and the farther you go the less you can take care of both. The reason he finally decided as he did was, "There are so many good doctors in Taiwan, so there was much more room for exploration and pioneering in music."

If this is why he chose music, why, when he got back into it again, did he choose Hong kong?

"The main features of capitalism are competition, specialization, and a refined division of labor," he explains. Artists in New York could create very pluralized types of art in that environment, "but I was already32 years old, and that's too old, so I couldn't become so specialized, so how could I compete with those guys?" As for Hong kong, it is also a center of capitalism, has a special culture brought about by the mix of Orient and Occident, has highly developed communications and access to a wealth of information; it is very free and people don't interfere in each other's lives; it is very liberal, and no one cares about your political position; already thirty percent of its broadcasting is Mandarin music, and it will take at least five years before its creative capabilities catch up to Taiwan. In particular, with the great divide of 1997 coming up, Hong kong will become the first place where capitalism and communism are thrown together. "It's just incredibly stimulating," he says with a laugh.

Though established in Hong kong, he is setting his sights on Chinese all over the world. The subject matter of his first album released from Hong kong, Comrade Lover, involved the mainland; several singles were recorded in regional dialects, he wrote the lyrics to Queen's Rd. East in Cantonese, and My Homeland was sung in Taiwanese. . . . All of these things (and places) reveal his ambitiousness.

Looking for a 199O's Chinese: In his first two years in Hong kong, Luo Ta-you did mostly music for films, and looked for a business partner. "My life was very simple, and I was alone most of the time." The early piece "Youth" took five years to get out the door, showing his slow and meticulous pace of work.

Having found Macao resident Lin Hsi to be a lyricist, and having asked Fabio Carli, an Italian who profoundly loves Oriental culture, to act as producer, Luo Ta-you's workshop "Music Factory" was established last December. The first album produced, Queen's Rd. East, has already sold 300,000 copies in Taiwan and Hong kong.

Why the name "Music Factory"?

"Music can't depend entirely on instinct," explains Luo. From composition to production to recording to mixing to promotion to sales, a song must pass through a series of steps of processing and packaging, and it's not something one person can do alone. It takes cooperation among a lot of people with special talents. This production center that he has opened just makes music or sounds related to music, so it is called the "Music Factory."

"The purpose of our workshop is to do mainly music that is at once original and creative, is rich in Chinese characteristics, and possesses the spirit of the 1990's," states Luo. For example, Queen's Rd. East talks about the problem of 1997. As for concrete Chinese characteristics, "we are still groping our way through that."

"Looking back over his creative experience, Luo Ta-you says that 15 years ago when doing Bright Days, he was still not certain what he wanted to say. By the time of Forsooth and Meseems he was relatively certain, and with Home he began to search for acknowledgement and feedback. Comrade Lover was an exploration of what it means to be Chinese.

Luo proposes that "I am now thinking about what direction the idea of 'what does it mean to be Chinese' should go in the 1990's." In order for Chinese of all lands to come closer together in the future, it is necessary to resolve some places where ways of thinking are different. In the past, people stressed the places they differed from each other, like the differences between Taiwan and mainland China, or between Taiwan and Hong kong. If you stress differences, there will be conflict, because everyone will want to prove he is stronger than the others. This isn't as good as finding things in common, so that everyone can peacefully coexist and deal with each other as equals.

Integrated Culture and Commerce: Recently, there has been a marked increase in the frequency with which Luo Ta-you has agreed to interviews in the newspapers, on TV, and on radio. The sense of protest in his work has also faded somewhat, and the intrusion of soft, emotive songs has caused some of his fans to feel that he has been affected by Hong kong culture, and is gradually walking into the trap of commercialization.

Record critic One Chia-ming believes, however, that even in his early days Luo Ta-you was already a refined if understated integration of commercial and cultural idol. His designed, dark sunglasses image, and his opposition to promotion through the broadcast structure and refusal to goon TV to do songs--these might be seen as commercial packaging which combines humanism with creativity. The contents of the albums included both humanitarian concern and emotive little songs, and took into consideration both intellectuals and love struck teens, which can similarly be explained as a technique to expand sales.

"No matter what, Luo Ta-you is serious about his work, and has a courageous and sincere creative attitude of trying to surpass himself," One emphasizes. "In his song-writing creativity he is still the 'child prodigy' among Chinese."

Waiting for 1997: Thirty years ago, a little Luo Ta-you began to study piano. At that time he was not very happy about it--he thought it was boring just to follow the sheet music. But then he began playing and singing his own music, and sharing his feelings, doubts, and growth with other Chinese. Firmly settled into Hong Kong, he is waiting underneath the shadow of capitalism and communism, and striving to express an even stronger creativity; and Chinese people are waiting for his songs.

[Picture Caption]

Looking out on Hong kong, with the mainland in the distance and his heart tied to Taiwan, Luo Ta- you is trying to relate to the identity of Chinese people through his music.

Luo says that his work partner Fabio Carli (right) is very Chinese, so exploring Chinese characteristics with him is no problem.

(Above, below) After Queen's Rd. East came out in Hong kong, Luo donned his shades again and produced an album for Taiwan: My Homeland, sung in Taiwanese.

Looking out on Hong kong, with the mainland in the distance and his heart tied to Taiwan, Luo Ta- you is trying to relate to the identity of Chinese people through his music.

Luo says that his work partner Fabio Carli （right） is very Chinese, so exploring Chinese characteristics with him is no problem.

（Above, below） After Queen's Rd. East came out in Hong kong, Luo donned his shades again and produced an album for Taiwan: My Homeland, sung in Taiwanese.