Martial God Cardea
Sandee Chan
Watch out, Taiwanese singer-songwriter Sandee Chan is on the warpath.
But instead of a cacophonous war cry, she has crafted a melancholic, chilled out album which seems to take aim at the impact of technology on our lives in the elliptical lyrics.
In the synth-rock number He’s A Space Debris From The Doomsday Prophecy, Mayday’s Monster and Stone are roped in for guitar duty. Is doomsday linked to the ubiquity of the online realm (“Anime, chasing serials, cheap flights and then search/For a long vacation”)? The repetition of the phrase “keep floating” in English suggests a kind of alienating bubble or cocoon which that world creates.
There is both pessimism and optimism as she vacillates between helplessness in There’s Nothing I Can Do About It and a guarded hopefulness in That’s Not The Only Thing I Can Do.
The title track imagines that Cardea is someone’s online handle, which is appropriate, given that Cardea is the Roman goddess of the door hinge. Chan grapples with the nature of the Internet beast: “When information civilisation is preserving me through text/An ideal life is a sorrow that loses control the more it stays silent.”
Romance is ephemeral in this brave new world. In the track Three Days And Two Nights, she writes: “I just wanted to like you at that time in that way/So I liked you at that time in that way.”
After all, being alone is not necessarily a bad thing, as depicted on the opening track Solitude.
With a line in Japanese, “Densha de iku (Going by train)”, one could imagine her on the Tokyo subway, wrapped up in her own world: “I’m not a prime number, don’t beautify the pain, reading a book, traversing imaginary lands.”
It can be a challenging journey, but one is happy to tag along for the ride.
(ST)
Wednesday, November 29, 2017
Fireworks, Should We See It From The Side Or The Bottom?
Akiyuki Shinbo
The story: Norimichi (Masaki Suda) and Yusuke (Mamoru Miyano) have a crush on their junior high school classmate Nazuna (Suzu Hirose). On the day of the summer festival, Nazuna asks Yusuke to go with her to watch the fireworks after she wins a swimming race among the three of them and gets to have her way. Norimichi later finds out the reason for her actions and wishes that he had won the race instead. In frustration, he throws a mysterious ball picked up by Nazuna from the sea – and finds himself back at the moment of the swim.
While it is based on the 1993 live-action movie of the same name, the timing of this adaptation might have something to do with the runaway success of the anime Your Name (2016), a youthful romance fantasy which had body-swopping and time-travel.
And unfortunately for Fireworks, that makes its time-travelling conceit feel a little tired. The animation also seemed more lush in Your Name, though director Akiyuki Shinbo, best known for the magical girls fantasy series, Puella Magi Madoka Magica (2011), comes up with some beautiful shots of colourful fireworks going off at close range.
There are other things to like about the film as well.
The setting is a seaside town and the depiction of giant wind turbines, rocky promontories and students on bicycles tearing down the steep roads anchors the film with a strong sense of place. Perhaps as a clue, the name of the town is Moshimo, a homonym for “if” in Japanese.
The nuances of teenage male friendships and loyalties are sensitively handled: What do you do when you and your bestie both like the same girl?
The awkward silences and denials of Norimichi and Yusuke about this huge thing between them are entirely believable.
In fact, this feels more interesting than the actual romantic coupling as Nazuna remains somewhat opaque beyond being an unhappy figure of desire.
Meanwhile, the title is linked to a discussion Norimichi’s friends have about fireworks – are they round or are they flat? It is a question upon which everything and nothing hinges.
(ST)
Akiyuki Shinbo
The story: Norimichi (Masaki Suda) and Yusuke (Mamoru Miyano) have a crush on their junior high school classmate Nazuna (Suzu Hirose). On the day of the summer festival, Nazuna asks Yusuke to go with her to watch the fireworks after she wins a swimming race among the three of them and gets to have her way. Norimichi later finds out the reason for her actions and wishes that he had won the race instead. In frustration, he throws a mysterious ball picked up by Nazuna from the sea – and finds himself back at the moment of the swim.
While it is based on the 1993 live-action movie of the same name, the timing of this adaptation might have something to do with the runaway success of the anime Your Name (2016), a youthful romance fantasy which had body-swopping and time-travel.
And unfortunately for Fireworks, that makes its time-travelling conceit feel a little tired. The animation also seemed more lush in Your Name, though director Akiyuki Shinbo, best known for the magical girls fantasy series, Puella Magi Madoka Magica (2011), comes up with some beautiful shots of colourful fireworks going off at close range.
There are other things to like about the film as well.
The setting is a seaside town and the depiction of giant wind turbines, rocky promontories and students on bicycles tearing down the steep roads anchors the film with a strong sense of place. Perhaps as a clue, the name of the town is Moshimo, a homonym for “if” in Japanese.
The nuances of teenage male friendships and loyalties are sensitively handled: What do you do when you and your bestie both like the same girl?
The awkward silences and denials of Norimichi and Yusuke about this huge thing between them are entirely believable.
In fact, this feels more interesting than the actual romantic coupling as Nazuna remains somewhat opaque beyond being an unhappy figure of desire.
Meanwhile, the title is linked to a discussion Norimichi’s friends have about fireworks – are they round or are they flat? It is a question upon which everything and nothing hinges.
(ST)
Wednesday, November 22, 2017
The Golden Monk
Wong Jing, Billy Chung
The story: In a time of demons and exorcists in Hangzhou, Butong (Zheng Kai) is a monk with supernatural powers – and a head of hair so tough that he cannot receive a tonsure. He crosses paths with Jade (Kitty Zhang), an exorcist who retains memories of her past life as a fairy banished from heaven after breaking a rule by falling in love with another fairy, Golden Child (Zheng). However, she is unable to see that Butong is Golden Child’s current incarnation.
After a surprisingly worthy outing with the crime epic Chasing The Dragon (2017), Hong Kong film-maker Wong Jing is back to his sloppy ways.
He co-directs with Billy Chung (The Man From Macau, 2014) The Golden Monk, a nonsensical fantasy that is only briefly, intermittently amusing, and inexplicably turns out to be the origin story of another well-known character of whom numerous television series and movies have been made.
If more jokes hit their mark, one would not have time to wonder why heaven here is a vaguely Greek-looking construct. Neither do the nonsensical moments tickle the funny bone. Instead, Butong jarringly breaks into a rendition of Andy Lau’s Water Of Forgetfulness, and Taiwanese actress Evonne Hsieh, who made her debut in the contemporary drama Tiny Times (2013), cringingly parades about as a mustachioed male buffoon.
The central love story is not persuasive and the mix of comedy and romance is strained.
The film is also saddled with an unsavoury and unfunny episode of a man who pimps out his wife, as well as a lame side plot of a dragon spirit attempting to seize control of the court by poisoning the emperor. The running time is further stretched with the inclusion of unnecessarily long recap scenes.
It culminates in a clash of the computer-animated titans as an army of golden monks battles with a villainous dragon. But the CGI stakes are not enough for one to feel invested in this showdown.
Perhaps The Golden Monk might have greater appeal in China, where Zheng is best known as a cast member in the Chinese version of the South Korean variety show Running Man.
He proves himself to be a game and affable actor but, next time, he should run away from such slipshod material.
(ST)
Wong Jing, Billy Chung
The story: In a time of demons and exorcists in Hangzhou, Butong (Zheng Kai) is a monk with supernatural powers – and a head of hair so tough that he cannot receive a tonsure. He crosses paths with Jade (Kitty Zhang), an exorcist who retains memories of her past life as a fairy banished from heaven after breaking a rule by falling in love with another fairy, Golden Child (Zheng). However, she is unable to see that Butong is Golden Child’s current incarnation.
After a surprisingly worthy outing with the crime epic Chasing The Dragon (2017), Hong Kong film-maker Wong Jing is back to his sloppy ways.
He co-directs with Billy Chung (The Man From Macau, 2014) The Golden Monk, a nonsensical fantasy that is only briefly, intermittently amusing, and inexplicably turns out to be the origin story of another well-known character of whom numerous television series and movies have been made.
If more jokes hit their mark, one would not have time to wonder why heaven here is a vaguely Greek-looking construct. Neither do the nonsensical moments tickle the funny bone. Instead, Butong jarringly breaks into a rendition of Andy Lau’s Water Of Forgetfulness, and Taiwanese actress Evonne Hsieh, who made her debut in the contemporary drama Tiny Times (2013), cringingly parades about as a mustachioed male buffoon.
The central love story is not persuasive and the mix of comedy and romance is strained.
The film is also saddled with an unsavoury and unfunny episode of a man who pimps out his wife, as well as a lame side plot of a dragon spirit attempting to seize control of the court by poisoning the emperor. The running time is further stretched with the inclusion of unnecessarily long recap scenes.
It culminates in a clash of the computer-animated titans as an army of golden monks battles with a villainous dragon. But the CGI stakes are not enough for one to feel invested in this showdown.
Perhaps The Golden Monk might have greater appeal in China, where Zheng is best known as a cast member in the Chinese version of the South Korean variety show Running Man.
He proves himself to be a game and affable actor but, next time, he should run away from such slipshod material.
(ST)
Coco
Lee Unkrich
The story: Miguel (Anthony Gonzalez) is a 12-year-old Mexican boy dreaming of becoming a musician like his late idol Ernesto de la Cruz. But music is banned in his household because his great-great-grandfather had left his family to pursue those dreams. Then, Miguel unexpectedly finds himself crossing over to the Land of the Dead during the Day of the Dead festival, where he meets charming, troubled trickster Hector (Gael Garcia Bernal), comes face to face with Ernesto (Benjamin Bratt) and learns the truth about the skeleton in his family’s closet.
There was another animated movie recently made about the Day of the Dead, The Book Of Life (2014). Coming in second for a similarly themed project is usually not ideal given that audiences might not have the appetite for more than one such film. Then again, Pixar does have a strong track record in animation works in general.
And indeed, they deliver once again with Coco, with director Lee Unkrich (Toy Story 3, 2010) at the helm.
The film is a visually gorgeous tapestry of Mexican culture and it fills the screen with the colourful vibrancy of Dia de Muertos (Day of the Dead) as people honour the memory of the departed with visits to cemeteries and gather for music, food and drink while bright orange marigold blooms carpet the ground.
The loving attention to detail impresses. There is the use of paper cut-outs to effectively convey a brief backstory involving Miguel’s great-great-grandfather and the latter’s daughter, Coco, and the wondrously imagined Land of the Dead, complete with fantastical spirit guides and the depiction of skeletal figures in a way that makes them come alive as characters.
The voice work by the all-Latino cast is spot-on as well, never overshadowing the roles, but instead, fleshing them out and disappearing into them. Gonzalez’s Miguel is realistically torn between following his dreams and listening to his family, Bratt brings a smooth swagger to Ernesto and Garcia Bernal is by turns likeable and pitiful.
It would be all too easy to use Dia de Muertos as a somewhat exotic backdrop but – as far as it is possible for me to tell – there is a ring of authenticity to the proceedings as cultural traditions such as the construction of ofrendas, a collection of objects placed on a ritual altar, are faithfully depicted. Indeed, ofrendas are turned into a key detail in the story, thus weaving them seamlessly into the film.
While The Book Of Life was hampered by an unsatisfactory storyline, Coco is full of heart and it glows with a cosy familial warmth.
(ST)
Lee Unkrich
The story: Miguel (Anthony Gonzalez) is a 12-year-old Mexican boy dreaming of becoming a musician like his late idol Ernesto de la Cruz. But music is banned in his household because his great-great-grandfather had left his family to pursue those dreams. Then, Miguel unexpectedly finds himself crossing over to the Land of the Dead during the Day of the Dead festival, where he meets charming, troubled trickster Hector (Gael Garcia Bernal), comes face to face with Ernesto (Benjamin Bratt) and learns the truth about the skeleton in his family’s closet.
There was another animated movie recently made about the Day of the Dead, The Book Of Life (2014). Coming in second for a similarly themed project is usually not ideal given that audiences might not have the appetite for more than one such film. Then again, Pixar does have a strong track record in animation works in general.
And indeed, they deliver once again with Coco, with director Lee Unkrich (Toy Story 3, 2010) at the helm.
The film is a visually gorgeous tapestry of Mexican culture and it fills the screen with the colourful vibrancy of Dia de Muertos (Day of the Dead) as people honour the memory of the departed with visits to cemeteries and gather for music, food and drink while bright orange marigold blooms carpet the ground.
The loving attention to detail impresses. There is the use of paper cut-outs to effectively convey a brief backstory involving Miguel’s great-great-grandfather and the latter’s daughter, Coco, and the wondrously imagined Land of the Dead, complete with fantastical spirit guides and the depiction of skeletal figures in a way that makes them come alive as characters.
The voice work by the all-Latino cast is spot-on as well, never overshadowing the roles, but instead, fleshing them out and disappearing into them. Gonzalez’s Miguel is realistically torn between following his dreams and listening to his family, Bratt brings a smooth swagger to Ernesto and Garcia Bernal is by turns likeable and pitiful.
It would be all too easy to use Dia de Muertos as a somewhat exotic backdrop but – as far as it is possible for me to tell – there is a ring of authenticity to the proceedings as cultural traditions such as the construction of ofrendas, a collection of objects placed on a ritual altar, are faithfully depicted. Indeed, ofrendas are turned into a key detail in the story, thus weaving them seamlessly into the film.
While The Book Of Life was hampered by an unsatisfactory storyline, Coco is full of heart and it glows with a cosy familial warmth.
(ST)
C’mon In~
Eason Chan
Thank goodness Hong Kong singer Eason Chan’s mentoring duties on reality show Sing! China have not kept him from putting out new music.
And if he was stressed with juggling a busy schedule, it does not show on C’mon In~, his latest Mandarin album since 2014’s Rice & Shine.
In keeping with the welcoming title, the opening track Fang (Relax) is an invitation to lounge on the sand: “If the world turned into a beach/Just laze if you want to laze, who cares, ya, how nice.”
It is enough to make one forget about the grey skies and thunderstorms outside the window.
The relaxed vibe carries through to the second and third numbers. Hong Kong’s Jerald Chan (no relation to Eason) and Taiwan’s David Ke are behind the music and lyrics respectively for this breezy trio.
The retro dance of Sigh is a winner, but I prefer the Mandarin title, Hai Dan, which means sea urchin.
The word “dan” is also a homonym for “courage” and Ke’s lyrics paint a picture of a man whose prickly exterior is merely a protective shell: “It’s just that this man, whose thoughts are milder than anyone else’s/Won’t admit, but sigh, living like a sea urchin.”
Just when it seems like C’mon In~ is going to be the Mandarin counterpart of sorts to the all-dance Cantonese disc Listen To Eason Chan (2007), the pace slows down for Shei Lai Jian Yue Guang (Miss), which literally translates to the evocative Who Is Going To Cut The Moonlight.
Chan’s rich pipes have always shone on ballads and Miss is tailor-made for him to do precisely that. He sings tenderly, reminiscing: “Too many memories, how am I supposed to pack them into the luggage.”
Adding to the variety here are dance number You Shang Jiao (Notice), which takes a swipe at social media obsession, and dramatic electro-pop track Fu Ke Bai (Leap), which uses the Foucault pendulum as a metaphor for the inexorable forces of life.
He sings on Miss: “The world is a mess, but what can we do/Lift our heads up occasionally and good thing there’s a moon to admire.”
Good thing there is an Eason Chan album to indulge in every once in a while.
(ST)
Eason Chan
Thank goodness Hong Kong singer Eason Chan’s mentoring duties on reality show Sing! China have not kept him from putting out new music.
And if he was stressed with juggling a busy schedule, it does not show on C’mon In~, his latest Mandarin album since 2014’s Rice & Shine.
In keeping with the welcoming title, the opening track Fang (Relax) is an invitation to lounge on the sand: “If the world turned into a beach/Just laze if you want to laze, who cares, ya, how nice.”
It is enough to make one forget about the grey skies and thunderstorms outside the window.
The relaxed vibe carries through to the second and third numbers. Hong Kong’s Jerald Chan (no relation to Eason) and Taiwan’s David Ke are behind the music and lyrics respectively for this breezy trio.
The retro dance of Sigh is a winner, but I prefer the Mandarin title, Hai Dan, which means sea urchin.
The word “dan” is also a homonym for “courage” and Ke’s lyrics paint a picture of a man whose prickly exterior is merely a protective shell: “It’s just that this man, whose thoughts are milder than anyone else’s/Won’t admit, but sigh, living like a sea urchin.”
Just when it seems like C’mon In~ is going to be the Mandarin counterpart of sorts to the all-dance Cantonese disc Listen To Eason Chan (2007), the pace slows down for Shei Lai Jian Yue Guang (Miss), which literally translates to the evocative Who Is Going To Cut The Moonlight.
Chan’s rich pipes have always shone on ballads and Miss is tailor-made for him to do precisely that. He sings tenderly, reminiscing: “Too many memories, how am I supposed to pack them into the luggage.”
Adding to the variety here are dance number You Shang Jiao (Notice), which takes a swipe at social media obsession, and dramatic electro-pop track Fu Ke Bai (Leap), which uses the Foucault pendulum as a metaphor for the inexorable forces of life.
He sings on Miss: “The world is a mess, but what can we do/Lift our heads up occasionally and good thing there’s a moon to admire.”
Good thing there is an Eason Chan album to indulge in every once in a while.
(ST)
Wednesday, November 15, 2017
A Dancing Van Gogh
Stefanie Sun
When the first single, A Dancing Van Gogh, dropped, I was not quite sure what to make of it. One friend remarked that it was “super offbeat” and that not many Mandopop singers could pull it off. Another thought it was terrible.
It was certainly an unlikely choice to herald the release of a new album by home-grown Mandopop queen Stefanie Sun following 2014’s Kepler and last year’s EP Rainbow Bot.
Neither a conventional ballad nor an out-and-out dance number, A Dancing Van Gogh references the famous Dutch artist and his paintings to a mysterious end. There is a breathy edge to Sun’s familiar pipes in the languorous opening couplet: “Sunflowers, golden like fire/Doing away with being wrapped by sunlight.”
This could be a fever dream as suggested by the enigmatic music video of shifting identities and the bridge in the song: “The Starry Night spins me around/Sorrow and merriment roam all over/I can’t bear to, don’t want to wake up”. It builds to a dramatic chorus, with even a choir chiming in eventually.
What it undoubtedly was was attention-grabbing. The track topped the iTunes chart in Taiwan, Hong Kong, Malaysia and Singapore and the music video has chalked up more than 1.1 million views on YouTube.
It still has not quite grown on me, but it suggests that Sun is open to taking risks in her choice of material, which is something to cheer about for an established star.
The question was whether this signalled a completely new direction for the record as a whole, say, the way Tanya Chua went electronica on Aphasia (2015). Perhaps to the relief of her fans, the answer is no.
After all, she works with several familiar names here. Taiwanese singer-songwriter Hush, who penned the track Kepler, writes the lyrics for The Brighter The Day, The Darker The Night and Everyday Happiness.
Also contributing to the album are her regular collaborators, local songwriting-producing twins Lee Shih Shiong – who composed some of her best-known hits such as Cloudy Day, Green Light and Magical – and Wai Shiong, who, not to be outdone, has composed My Desired Happiness, Kite and Angel’s Fingerprints, among others.
Between them, they wrote the music for half the album, tailored to her distinctive, versatile voice. Their songs include the standout poignant number Wind Jacket (“Flying pages of a calendar/Cut and assembled into a wind jacket”).
Elsewhere, Sun displays an aching vulnerability on the ballad A State Of Bliss, while she gets to rock out in the exploratory Floating Islands and the rollicking Oxygenation Period.
Several of the songs are about the passage of time and of people who come and go. But in the midst of change and upheaval, there is also constancy.
Sun sings in the spare closing ballad Extremely Beautiful, for which she penned the lyrics: “Because no matter how cold the wind blows, the umbrella is by my side/Even if the jacket is old, it’ll still keep the chill at bay”.
While A Dancing Van Gogh is not quite as immediate as some of her previous releases, a new album from a well-loved singer can still be a source of comfort.
(ST)
Stefanie Sun
When the first single, A Dancing Van Gogh, dropped, I was not quite sure what to make of it. One friend remarked that it was “super offbeat” and that not many Mandopop singers could pull it off. Another thought it was terrible.
It was certainly an unlikely choice to herald the release of a new album by home-grown Mandopop queen Stefanie Sun following 2014’s Kepler and last year’s EP Rainbow Bot.
Neither a conventional ballad nor an out-and-out dance number, A Dancing Van Gogh references the famous Dutch artist and his paintings to a mysterious end. There is a breathy edge to Sun’s familiar pipes in the languorous opening couplet: “Sunflowers, golden like fire/Doing away with being wrapped by sunlight.”
This could be a fever dream as suggested by the enigmatic music video of shifting identities and the bridge in the song: “The Starry Night spins me around/Sorrow and merriment roam all over/I can’t bear to, don’t want to wake up”. It builds to a dramatic chorus, with even a choir chiming in eventually.
What it undoubtedly was was attention-grabbing. The track topped the iTunes chart in Taiwan, Hong Kong, Malaysia and Singapore and the music video has chalked up more than 1.1 million views on YouTube.
It still has not quite grown on me, but it suggests that Sun is open to taking risks in her choice of material, which is something to cheer about for an established star.
The question was whether this signalled a completely new direction for the record as a whole, say, the way Tanya Chua went electronica on Aphasia (2015). Perhaps to the relief of her fans, the answer is no.
After all, she works with several familiar names here. Taiwanese singer-songwriter Hush, who penned the track Kepler, writes the lyrics for The Brighter The Day, The Darker The Night and Everyday Happiness.
Also contributing to the album are her regular collaborators, local songwriting-producing twins Lee Shih Shiong – who composed some of her best-known hits such as Cloudy Day, Green Light and Magical – and Wai Shiong, who, not to be outdone, has composed My Desired Happiness, Kite and Angel’s Fingerprints, among others.
Between them, they wrote the music for half the album, tailored to her distinctive, versatile voice. Their songs include the standout poignant number Wind Jacket (“Flying pages of a calendar/Cut and assembled into a wind jacket”).
Elsewhere, Sun displays an aching vulnerability on the ballad A State Of Bliss, while she gets to rock out in the exploratory Floating Islands and the rollicking Oxygenation Period.
Several of the songs are about the passage of time and of people who come and go. But in the midst of change and upheaval, there is also constancy.
Sun sings in the spare closing ballad Extremely Beautiful, for which she penned the lyrics: “Because no matter how cold the wind blows, the umbrella is by my side/Even if the jacket is old, it’ll still keep the chill at bay”.
While A Dancing Van Gogh is not quite as immediate as some of her previous releases, a new album from a well-loved singer can still be a source of comfort.
(ST)
Wednesday, November 08, 2017
Unlearn
Ling Kai
Cross Ratio Entertainment
The Greatest Journey
Ruth Kueo
Cros Music
Local female singer-songwriters Ling Kai and Ruth Kueo offer different listening experiences on their latest releases.
Ling Kai’s Unlearn EP is more intriguing. It kicks off with the pop-rock numbers Dumbfounded and Eat, Drink, Sleep, Repeat, which are propelled by her distinctive power pipes. She takes aim at the obsession with social media in Dumbfounded: “Face the camera, don’t be too frank in your emotions/What’s beneath, just guess.”
The singer turns the dial down on the title track and Eighteen, but keeps things compelling. She croons poignantly about growing pains on the latter ballad: “18/That year I thought the world/Was as old as me/ Growing up/Stabs of pain”.
Kueo’s seven-track album is a breezier affair primarily concerned with matters of the heart.
From the bop-along pop of Let It Go to the ballad Without You, the songs are a good foil for her sweet voice. On the track Fake, she shows a bit of welcome sass: “Can we not be fake/Be a little honest/Laugh if you like/If you don’t/Say out loud what you think.”
Simple Happiness is a melodic guitar-accompanied track which is unfortunately marred by lyrics which seem derivative of the well-loved home-grown number If There’re Seasons (“Come home when it’s cold, don’t linger in the wind/There’s understanding in mother’s eyes/And a glint of helplessness”).
Kueo sings on her ballad: “No matter how strong the wind and rain, remember to come home/Thinking of what mother used to say.”
Unlearning what you know might be a good idea when it comes to penning lyrics.
(ST)
Ling Kai
Cross Ratio Entertainment
The Greatest Journey
Ruth Kueo
Cros Music
Local female singer-songwriters Ling Kai and Ruth Kueo offer different listening experiences on their latest releases.
Ling Kai’s Unlearn EP is more intriguing. It kicks off with the pop-rock numbers Dumbfounded and Eat, Drink, Sleep, Repeat, which are propelled by her distinctive power pipes. She takes aim at the obsession with social media in Dumbfounded: “Face the camera, don’t be too frank in your emotions/What’s beneath, just guess.”
The singer turns the dial down on the title track and Eighteen, but keeps things compelling. She croons poignantly about growing pains on the latter ballad: “18/That year I thought the world/Was as old as me/ Growing up/Stabs of pain”.
Kueo’s seven-track album is a breezier affair primarily concerned with matters of the heart.
From the bop-along pop of Let It Go to the ballad Without You, the songs are a good foil for her sweet voice. On the track Fake, she shows a bit of welcome sass: “Can we not be fake/Be a little honest/Laugh if you like/If you don’t/Say out loud what you think.”
Simple Happiness is a melodic guitar-accompanied track which is unfortunately marred by lyrics which seem derivative of the well-loved home-grown number If There’re Seasons (“Come home when it’s cold, don’t linger in the wind/There’s understanding in mother’s eyes/And a glint of helplessness”).
Kueo sings on her ballad: “No matter how strong the wind and rain, remember to come home/Thinking of what mother used to say.”
Unlearning what you know might be a good idea when it comes to penning lyrics.
(ST)
Monday, November 06, 2017
MICappella You And I Live In Concert 2017
Capitol Theatre/Last Saturday
Since their second-place finish in the televised competition The Sing-Off China in 2012, local vocal group MICappella have been honing their craft and growing as a band.
They released their debut album Here We Go in 2013 and followed that up with an ambitious album of original material, MICappella Reloaded, last year.
They have toured as far afield as Europe and Australia and, finally, performed again in Singapore after four years – in their biggest solo show.
Over 21/2 hours, they showed the sold-out crowd of more than 1,000 fans just how far they have come since they formed in 2009.
The sextet were at their strongest on the high-energy original numbers, One Of These Days and Never Be Defeated. They showcased the tightness of MICappella as a music-making unity where everything fit together perfectly, from the vocal percussion to the harmonisation.
The band comprise leader and vocal percussionist Peter Huang, soprano Tay Kexin, alto Calin Wong, tenor Juni Goh, baritone Eugene Yip and bass Goh Mingwei.
It was all too easy to forget sometimes that every note and sound is generated solely by the six of them.
And if there seemed to be quite a reliance on video clips during the evening, it is worth bearing in mind that there were no other musicians or dancers to take over even for a little while to give them a breather.
Huang’s beatboxing solo was a potent, not to mention entertaining, reminder of the musicality of the group’s members as he gave the concertgoers drums, thumping bass and even turntable scratching in the course of his showcase.
Each member had his or her moment to shine and they also took turns at the microphone to share anecdotes, including how they came to cover legendary English band Iron Maiden’s The Trooper.
It was in response to a gauntlet thrown down by some musician friends who asked: “A cappella cannot do heavy metal right?”
The stomper of a cover with an impressive wall of sound certainly proved the doubters wrong.
Even as MICappella stretch themselves by composing their own material, they did not neglect the fans who first got to know them through their covers.
They took on Pharrell Williams’ Happy, Bobby Chen’s One Night In Beijing and, of course, Hu Xia’s Those Bygone Years and Hebe Tien’s A Little Happiness. The music clip for their Hu-Tien mash-up has garnered more than 1.6 million views on YouTube.
The evening had also started with two mega medleys that went through 22 songs in Mandarin, English and even Korean.
However, that felt like packing in too much as it did not give the audience a chance to settle down as the band were constantly switching gears. It was a good thing the pacing became less frenetic once the show got underway.
The final number was a rendition of Mayday’s Minnan dialect ballad Peter & Mary – the first song that MICappella did, back when they had no idea where they were headed.
What came across loud and clear, in that track and throughout the evening, was their joy and excitement in coming together to make music – and that is the heart and soul of a cappella.
(ST)
Capitol Theatre/Last Saturday
Since their second-place finish in the televised competition The Sing-Off China in 2012, local vocal group MICappella have been honing their craft and growing as a band.
They released their debut album Here We Go in 2013 and followed that up with an ambitious album of original material, MICappella Reloaded, last year.
They have toured as far afield as Europe and Australia and, finally, performed again in Singapore after four years – in their biggest solo show.
Over 21/2 hours, they showed the sold-out crowd of more than 1,000 fans just how far they have come since they formed in 2009.
The sextet were at their strongest on the high-energy original numbers, One Of These Days and Never Be Defeated. They showcased the tightness of MICappella as a music-making unity where everything fit together perfectly, from the vocal percussion to the harmonisation.
The band comprise leader and vocal percussionist Peter Huang, soprano Tay Kexin, alto Calin Wong, tenor Juni Goh, baritone Eugene Yip and bass Goh Mingwei.
It was all too easy to forget sometimes that every note and sound is generated solely by the six of them.
And if there seemed to be quite a reliance on video clips during the evening, it is worth bearing in mind that there were no other musicians or dancers to take over even for a little while to give them a breather.
Huang’s beatboxing solo was a potent, not to mention entertaining, reminder of the musicality of the group’s members as he gave the concertgoers drums, thumping bass and even turntable scratching in the course of his showcase.
Each member had his or her moment to shine and they also took turns at the microphone to share anecdotes, including how they came to cover legendary English band Iron Maiden’s The Trooper.
It was in response to a gauntlet thrown down by some musician friends who asked: “A cappella cannot do heavy metal right?”
The stomper of a cover with an impressive wall of sound certainly proved the doubters wrong.
Even as MICappella stretch themselves by composing their own material, they did not neglect the fans who first got to know them through their covers.
They took on Pharrell Williams’ Happy, Bobby Chen’s One Night In Beijing and, of course, Hu Xia’s Those Bygone Years and Hebe Tien’s A Little Happiness. The music clip for their Hu-Tien mash-up has garnered more than 1.6 million views on YouTube.
The evening had also started with two mega medleys that went through 22 songs in Mandarin, English and even Korean.
However, that felt like packing in too much as it did not give the audience a chance to settle down as the band were constantly switching gears. It was a good thing the pacing became less frenetic once the show got underway.
The final number was a rendition of Mayday’s Minnan dialect ballad Peter & Mary – the first song that MICappella did, back when they had no idea where they were headed.
What came across loud and clear, in that track and throughout the evening, was their joy and excitement in coming together to make music – and that is the heart and soul of a cappella.
(ST)
Wednesday, November 01, 2017
illi
Will Pan
After a head injury sustained while rehearsing for his Kingdom Of Eve tour in 2014, Taiwanese-American singer-actor Will Pan dreamt about giving birth to a baby alien – which he believed was his reincarnation. As far as backstories for mainstream albums go, this is pretty left-field.
Not to worry, though, as illi is a solid offering of hip-hop – head for party-hearty track Go Hard and the old-school jam of Coming Home – and ballads with some extra-terrestrial imagery worked in.
On the propulsive number Close Encounter – the title references the 1977 Steven Spielberg sci-fi flick Close Encounters Of The Third Kind – he sings: “Don’t tag this biological aesthetic as a dangerous monstrosity that belongs to Area 51, that’s right I belong in this world.” Area 51 is a classified place in the United States which some believe harbours evidence of alien life.
It is not just an attention-grabbing gimmick here – an alien is also a metaphor for being different and Pan makes a case that he is one.
He is not the strongest singer, but one can see that he puts in the effort from debut album Gecko Stroll (2002), in which he likens himself to a gecko waiting for mosquitoes on the title track, to his latest, 11th record.
It helps that he can also pen radio-friendly hook-filled tracks such as Numb with its stinging chorus: “Break it, forget it, let it go/Don’t test your own cunning/Quiet, don’t speak/Learn to be a mute.”
Sometimes, the material feels a little generic, such as the lightweight love song Fight For You.
The antidote is Dear Memories, in which the bitterness and vitriol aimed at an ex is leavened by the breezy melody: “Didn’t think you were such a beast/Hope you’ll never forget me/Suffer every day.”
Despite the unusual premise, illi is far from alienating.
(ST)
Will Pan
After a head injury sustained while rehearsing for his Kingdom Of Eve tour in 2014, Taiwanese-American singer-actor Will Pan dreamt about giving birth to a baby alien – which he believed was his reincarnation. As far as backstories for mainstream albums go, this is pretty left-field.
Not to worry, though, as illi is a solid offering of hip-hop – head for party-hearty track Go Hard and the old-school jam of Coming Home – and ballads with some extra-terrestrial imagery worked in.
On the propulsive number Close Encounter – the title references the 1977 Steven Spielberg sci-fi flick Close Encounters Of The Third Kind – he sings: “Don’t tag this biological aesthetic as a dangerous monstrosity that belongs to Area 51, that’s right I belong in this world.” Area 51 is a classified place in the United States which some believe harbours evidence of alien life.
It is not just an attention-grabbing gimmick here – an alien is also a metaphor for being different and Pan makes a case that he is one.
He is not the strongest singer, but one can see that he puts in the effort from debut album Gecko Stroll (2002), in which he likens himself to a gecko waiting for mosquitoes on the title track, to his latest, 11th record.
It helps that he can also pen radio-friendly hook-filled tracks such as Numb with its stinging chorus: “Break it, forget it, let it go/Don’t test your own cunning/Quiet, don’t speak/Learn to be a mute.”
Sometimes, the material feels a little generic, such as the lightweight love song Fight For You.
The antidote is Dear Memories, in which the bitterness and vitriol aimed at an ex is leavened by the breezy melody: “Didn’t think you were such a beast/Hope you’ll never forget me/Suffer every day.”
Despite the unusual premise, illi is far from alienating.
(ST)
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