A Canadian in Beijing: Sonic Youth in Beijing

by Ember Swift on

I took in a concert this week thanks to a friend who couldn’t use his (expensive) tickets. He gave me a great deal on them (thanks Stuart!) and I went with some friends to see the Sonic Youth concert here in Beijing. I have to admit that I don’t know Sonic Youth very well, musically that is. I went for the experience more than anything and it was quite an event.

Star Live is a big mid-sized music venue in Beijing and I think it probably holds over a couple thousand people, if not more. Based on my experience gauging a crowd size at festivals coupled with the sold-out crowd at the show, I’m guessing around 1,500 to 2,000 people were in the room but I could be wrong.

The original price of the tickets was about $350 kuai, which is far out of my league, financially. It is WAY out of most people’s league here in Beijing.

As a result, more than half of the people were non-Chinese. I heard more English being spoken than I did Mandarin and we were squashed against people on all sides in a sweaty, smoke-filled, hard-to-see-over-taller-people’s-heads, central spot in the middle of the room.

The opening act was forbidden to play by the Chinese government. That’s all I know. They’re a Chinese band called Carsick Cars and many people were excited for them to have such an opportunity. I wish I knew more about the reasons, but I don’t. If anyone does, please post a comment!

When Sonic Youth finally came on at about 9:30 (having had no opening act), the place suddenly filled with the flash of digital cameras. In fact, I found it funny how many hands were in the air holding cameras or taking video. So, I of course had to join in! I also love this picture that captured the flash of a nearby camera (see below).

Do you remember in my previous post after my gig here when I said that people had told me that a technical difficulty in a show in Beijing is just par for the course? They actually said that ‘perfect shows, tech-wise, are almost unheard of.’ Well, I watched one of the vocalists from Sonic Youth exist for nearly an entire song with no vocals before the band actually stopped playing and dealt with her microphone problem. Sarah turned to me and said: “See? It even happens to Sonic Youth.” And then she smiled. Yes, no one is immune no matter how famous.

Oh well, they got it fixed and then continued the concert.

The show was just over an hour long including the encores. It’s hard to say if there even was an encore because people were super polite and didn’t scream much and certainly didn’t pound the floors demanding the band to come back. I wondered if they even would return to the stage considering the lack-lustre occasional hooting (probably by Westerners) and the random clapping. The only thing that signalled that they’d return were the lights that remained dim and pointed to the stage.

Actually, I have to admit that I left after the first encore. I wasn’t into it.

Still, I learned a lot and the experience was really worthwhile. Most interestingly to me was the fact that I felt awkwardly part of some elite group of people who could apparently afford such expensive tickets. I’m not saying it’s wrong to be able to afford concert tickets and nor would I balk at this price back home, but it definitely highlights the divide here between those with money and those without.

North American labels and bands are rarely able to lower their ticket price to match the economy of their touring destination. After all, how would they pay for the cost of travelling if they did? I understand all this, as a businessperson in this music industry.

Still, it makes it impossible for artists like me – independent artists — who build audiences from the grassroots level. We wouldn’t be able to afford to come over unless we were already famous. Album sales would barely cover the cost of making the albums in the first place (even counting manufacturing them over here, which is much cheaper), and ticket prices for even the bigger independent shows haven’t gone above 30 kuai, as far as I’ve seen. That’s under $5 a head and airfare doesn’t get any cheaper depending on the destination. The only other option is to start here and build a following while living here and then return to what has been built.

Which is, I suppose, exactly what I’m doing.

I hopped a cab and headed back to Wudaokou after the concert. I felt thoughtful and pensive the whole ride home.

I may understand it all logically and professionally – certainly from my Western perspective – but as a new Beijing resident, I felt saddened by this chasm between the east and the west that can only (seemingly) be crossed on a bridge of cash.

I’m currently looking for other means of transport.

(She was in the middle of dancing wildly with her arms when I snapped this shot. I love how it makes her like like she has ENORMOUS biceps. I had to include the picture because it makes me smile every time I look at it!)

A Canadian In Beijing: Live Music in China’s Capital

by Ember Swift on

Mao Live House is smoky and cavernous. It’s only ten after eight in the evening but there are already a few people lingering along the edges and the door staff were poised and ready to take my thirty kuai cover charge to see these three bands tonight. I was welcomed in English, which isn’t uncommon where ticket prices are higher than average, but I responded in Chinese and paid willingly to support the local artists. (Thirty kuai, after all, is only about $4.50 Canadian, a steal for three live acts on the same night!)

This venue is known as the best sounding live music venue in town and it definitely has the equipment to prove it. It is owned by a Japanese company and, according to Traci (a.k.a. my Beijing informant: an American woman who has been living here for thirteen years), it was outfitted by the same company with state-of-the-art sound equipment and a Japanese sound tech to go with it.

Said sound tech looks sullen behind the sound desk. There’s a Madonna-esque pop song blaring through the sound system as he puffs at his endless cigarette and seems suspended in his cloud of droopy boredom. Head leaning into his bent arm, floppy hat forming a canopy over his eyebrows, long black hair in a messy ponytail at the nape of his neck. He looks just like any sound guy in any city. In fact, maybe even livelier than some!

The floor of the venue has three levels, each separated by an iron railing save the walkway between them. The uppermost at the back of the room is equipped with chairs and a small table and I am told that this is the media section. It is reserved for media during big shows when interviews are needed or a filming section is required that is a few feet about the crowd. Tonight, however, there are no media people and this section is open.

I opt for the pit instead. I want to see every little detail.

This place would suit a punk show for sure with its grey cement floors, near complete absence of seating and the black walls and railings and stage. Save the “MAO” logo on the rear wall of the stage, there is no wall decoration at all. Very fitting! I’m sure Chairman Mao would have approved of these interior design choices.

More people trail in with cigarettes in hand to thicken the air and help out the lights. Several non-Chinese as well and I notice shopping bags and other tourist paraphernalia like maps, cameras and a Mandarin phrase book tucked in one of the girl’s coat pocket.

In this case and without being able to hear the language being spoken above the pounding pop music, I think can safely identify this small group as “foreigners.” I am careful about using this word as a result of the large ex-pat community here and the possibility that many non-Chinese people may have been born and bred here, not to mention the biracial community that is often mistaken as foreign in their own country.

I return my gaze to the stage that is outfitted with a shiny new “Canopus” drum kit (a brand I have never heard of), two Marshall stacks and a Fender twin (electric guitar amps) and an Ampeg bass amp. Traci tells me that all venues are equipped here. Bands don’t need to bring their own amps or drum kits to their shows. Transitions between bands are smooth as a result and the sound is consistent all night.

This makes me think of some venues in Manhattan that offer this level of “backline” (the industry word for equipment provided by the venue or event.) In New York, it’s in response to both limited parking on the streets and limited space in the venue to store three sets of band equipment between sets each night. I’m assuming this is part of the motivation here, as well. Traci is surprised to hear that this is not how it’s done in most parts of North America.

The music begins at about 8:45. This venue starts early to accommodate the average attendees’ dependency on public transit. To get back to Wudaokou from Guloudongdajie on the subway, I would have to leave at 10:40pm on the last northbound yellow line train. That’s impossibly early in most live music circles. Tonight, I can make it if I choose to leave just before the end of the third act and I’m grateful for the option.

The first act is Zhang Tie (pictured in the first photograph), a singer-songwriter in the pop-rock genre with an amazing voice. His band is tight and practiced and the arrangements keep my ears alert. They’re all talented and serious players who handle the diversity between the songs with “mei guanxi” (no problems). The songs range from slow ballads to driving rock riffs and I’m relieved at how much I enjoy his performance and can appreciate the talent on stage.

Zhengtie is Traci’s boyfriend and I’ve heard a lot about him. He is the first fellow artist in China that I have met here. I have been invited to jam and hang out with his friends this coming week and this will hopefully lead me closer to my research goals with this trip re: women in music in China.

It starts with one contact and leads to a community.

The second group was a hard rock and reggae infused band called Ma Ya. They were highly entertaining and got the crowd dancing and excited. Some of the riffs were daring and original with melodic bass lines and shifting time signatures.

Finally, the night ended with Bu Yi whose mixture of rock and traditional folk was moving and beautiful. The drummer, an amazing backing vocalist as well, even stopped playing during a breakdown section and played a melodica in harmony with the electric guitar. The sudden absence of drums and the introduction of a new sound for just twelve bars was a refreshing performance move. The audience held their breath for the section and then went crazy with applause when it ended and the groove resumed.

I gently joked with my new friends about the rock’n roll drama on stage. In fact, in a room that holds at least three hundred people comfortably, there weren’t more than about seventy-five people in attendance. Despite the low attendance, the rock moves were in full form. There wasn’t a droplet of energy lost in response to low numbers, which I respect and appreciate from the fan’s perspective. Still, my friend’s response was: “Well, that’s so Chinese. This is the Chinese rock scene!” I’m not sure what that means, but my cheeky response was lost in the screaming amplifiers: “I wonder if the moves make you rock harder?”

When the last band ended, it was only eleven o’clock. The crowd spilled out onto the sidewalk and gathered in small overlapping circle to smoke and chat and to eventually be carried off by the constant stream of cabs. I exchanged mobile numbers with my new friends and waved goodbye after promises to get together for jams, gear shopping and language exchange conversation. Zhengtie even loaned me his acoustic guitar for my show this Sunday.

Oh, did I forget to mention that I have a gig on Sunday? It’s at a venue called Yugong Yishan. I’m doing a solo opening set before a Chinese folk-rock act. I landed the gig during my first few days here after meeting Traci who promptly introduced me to the venue’s booking rep. In fact, I will be performing again at the same venue on May 23rd. Be on the lookout for some brief gig reports for any of you travellers who happen to also be performers!

My first experience with live music in China was fantastic. Of course, it won’t be my last!