China
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China accused the United States on Thursday of spreading disinformation and suppressing TikTok following reports that the Biden administration was calling for its Chinese owners to sell their stakes in the popular video-sharing app.
The U.S. has yet to present evidence that TikTok threatens its national security and was using the excuse of data security to abuse its power to suppress foreign companies, Foreign Ministry spokesperson Wang Wenbin told reporters at a daily briefing.
“The U.S. should stop spreading disinformation about data security, stop suppressing the relevant company, and provide an open, fair and non-discriminatory environment for foreign businesses to invest and operate in the U.S.,” Wang said.
TikTok was dismissive Wednesday of a report in The Wall Street Journal that said the Committee on Foreign Investment in the U.S., part of the Treasury Department, was threatening a U.S. ban on the app unless its owners, Beijing-based ByteDance Ltd., divested.
“If protecting national security is the objective, divestment doesn’t solve the problem: A change in ownership would not impose any new restrictions on data flows or access,” TikTok spokesperson Maureen Shanahan said.
Shanahan said TikTok was already answering concerns through “transparent, U.S.-based protection of U.S. user data and systems, with robust third-party monitoring, vetting, and verification.”
The Journal report cited anonymous “people familiar with the matter.” The Treasury Department and the White House’s National Security Council declined to comment.
In late February, the White House gave all federal agencies 30 days to wipe TikTok off all government devices. Some agencies, including the Departments of Defense, Homeland Security and the State Department already have restrictions in place. The White House already does not allow TikTok on its devices.
Congress passed the “No TikTok on Government Devices Act” in December as part of a sweeping government funding package. The legislation does allow for TikTok use in certain cases, including for national security, law enforcement and research purposes.
Meanwhile, lawmakers in both the House and Senate have been moving forward with legislation that would give the Biden administration more power to clamp down on TikTok.
TikTok remains extremely popular and is used by two-thirds of teens in the U.S. But there is increasing concern that Beijing could obtain control of American user data that the app has obtained and push pro-Beijing narratives and propaganda on the app.
China has long been concerned about the influence of overseas social media and communications apps, and bans most of the best-known ones, including Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, YouTube — and TikTok.
TikTok was dismissive Wednesday of reports that the Biden administration was calling for its Chinese owners to sell their stakes in the popular video-sharing app, saying such a move wouldn’t help protect national security.
The company was responding to a report in The Wall Street Journal that said the Committee on Foreign Investment in the U.S., part of the Treasury Department, was threatening a U.S. ban on the app unless its owners, Beijing-based ByteDance Ltd., divested.
“If protecting national security is the objective, divestment doesn’t solve the problem: a change in ownership would not impose any new restrictions on data flows or access,” TikTok spokesperson Maureen Shanahan said. “The best way to address concerns about national security is with the transparent, U.S.-based protection of U.S. user data and systems, with robust third-party monitoring, vetting, and verification, which we are already implementing.”
The Journal report cited anonymous “people familiar with the matter.” The Treasury Department and the White House’s National Security Council declined to comment.
Late last month, the White House gave all federal agencies 30 days to wipe TikTok off all government devices.
The Office of Management and Budget called the guidance a “critical step forward in addressing the risks presented by the app to sensitive government data.” Some agencies, including the Departments of Defense, Homeland Security and State, already have restrictions in place. The White House already does not allow TikTok on its devices.
Congress passed the “No TikTok on Government Devices Act” in December as part of a sweeping government funding package. The legislation does allow for TikTok use in certain cases, including for national security, law enforcement and research purposes.
Meanwhile, lawmakers in both the House and Senate have been moving forward with legislation that would give the Biden administration more power to clamp down on TikTok.
Rep. Mike McCaul, the chairman of the House Foreign Relations Committee, has been a vocal critic of the app, saying the Chinese Communist Party is using it to “manipulate and monitor its users while it gobbles up Americans’ data to be used for their malign activities.”
“Anyone with TikTok downloaded on their device has given the CCP a backdoor to all their personal information. It’s a spy balloon into your phone,” the Texas Republican said.
TikTok remains extremely popular and is used by two-thirds of teens in the U.S. But there is increasing concern that Beijing could obtain control of American user data that the app has obtained.
The company has been dismissive of the ban for federal devices and has noted that it is developing security and data privacy plans as part of the Biden administration’s ongoing national security review.
There are many singers with golden voices, but a select few who sing with real passion. Jam Hsiao Ching-Teng has been beloved by audiences for over a decade due to his willingness to put himself out in the open and share his life experiences freely.
After a conversation with Hsiao, Billboard China came to the conclusion that his innate enthusiasm derives from his voice, his passion, and his clear and precise understanding of the music and entertainment industry, as well as the evolution of media itself. All of these facets have helped give his seemingly wild growth a sense of direction to concentrate upon.
Different Colors in the Era of Big Data
Nowadays, hit songs, including those by Hsiao, often undergo a kind of transformation when uploaded to Internet platforms. He admitted that he had mixed feelings when he first heard the DJ dance version of “A-Fei’s Butterflies” on the street. On one hand, he was happy that such an old song was still being sung. On the other hand, he was frustrated that all of the rich emotions conveyed in this dense piece of music were being “dumbed down” in order to fit into a formulaic musical genre.
“Data has gotten a stranglehold over us in recent years,” Hsiao says. “Tens of millions of pieces of music by different musicians have been molded into the same generic shape in order to conform to whatever is en vogue at the time in order to guarantee as many views as possible. How can quality work be heard when any trace of personality is hidden? It’s like putting the same exact frame over every single painting. For music, it’s incredibly important to have some different colors in the mix.”
Looking at his career, it is clear he has put a lot of effort into pursuing these “different colors,” and equally clear that he has occasionally paid the price.
When Hsiao made his debut, he was considered a strong vocal performer. He embarked on a world tour after just two albums. Refusing to be just a pop star, Hsiao quickly mastered different styles, including Western jazz and “one take.” Eventually, he decided to start a band, where his love for rock music led to him playing the role of both lyricist and composer. Meanwhile, his talent agency positioned him as a “singer who occasionally writes songs.” Later, it became evident that the era of rock ‘n’ roll has come and gone.
Set in his ways, Hsiao’s music has become more uniquely his with every subsequent album over the past two years, culminating in last year’s Quarantine Hotel Room 2827. Featuring minimalist compositions that utilize a combination of synth-pop and retro elements, this album may have had a divisive reception from Hsiao’s fanbase, but it quenched a desire that was residing in Hsiao’s heart at the time.
He wrote, composed, sang and recorded the entire album. An unprecedented creative experience for him, this allowed him to create an auditory and visual feast infused with his own personal stamp. Speaking on the album, Hsiao states, “What can you do? Perhaps Quarantine Hotel Room 2827 really was a failed attempt at something. The creative process for it was far from painless. Nevertheless, I didn’t want to give up on the ideas that I had, even if they wouldn’t be received warmly by audiences, because I found them to be a source of personal catharsis. I regard life as a process of constant self-discovery.”
By his own admission, Hsiao is a bit “crazy.” He refuses to remain stationary and yield to the overwhelming force that is the data age, even though he knows very well that his love songs would be popular with the public. The most tangible manifestation of this outlook is his paucity of hit songs in recent years.
If you ask Hsiao, however, this is the wrong takeaway. He is merely being honest with himself, refusing to blindly pursue any so-called experiments in a half-hearted way. He proclaims, “How can we present something to the public when we’re not satisfied with it ourselves? I’ll always stand behind any new song that I release, but at the end of the day, you can never tell what will or won’t be welcomed by the public and become a hit.”
One song on the album he is particularly satisfied with is “Nowhere to Hide.” His eyes light up when the song is mentioned. After a moment’s pause, however, he goes on to say, “In this age of data, I’m sure it’s not anyone’s favorite. I doubt it’s been heard by that many people.”
Musical variety shows should be fun.
With the previous generation of singers, Taiwan’s well-established record industry was the “midstream pillar” of Chinese music circles. Even during Jam Hsiao’s time, his style and voice were often covered and imitated by many China singers. However, not long into Hsiao’s career, things began to shift focus, and the entertainment industry continued moving northward. Nowadays, the only way musicians from Hong Kong and Taiwan can ensure long-term popularity is by securing a spot on a variety show in China. An extensive knowledge into the workings of Chinese television channels and Internet platforms is a must. For them, this is both the trend and a trial to overcome.
With solid singing skills and an endearing personality, Hsiao has been making waves on various variety shows, making him an outstanding musician among his peers who is “moving northward.” Hsiao even has a say in how musical variety shows in China are put on, as he has participated in them almost every year for the past decade.
As a singer who got his start from musical variety shows, he does not feel that coming on these shows is a sign of “going downhill,” as these shows have been a major influence in the pop music industry going all the way back to Elvis Presley, the King of Rock ‘n’ Roll. While the number of musical variety shows produced in the past two years is not large, there has always been a steady demand for them among music fans. Thanks to a more powerful online entertainment system and more efficient resource mobilization, the quality of musical variety shows in China will only continue to improve.
As an artist, Hsiao has pondered this topic in some detail. Certain directors will alter the structure, schedule, and program of the show according to Hsiao’s personal suggestions based on what he experiences, sees and hears. This often results in singers having an increased sense of “performance” during the show. Nothing is more frustrating for singers than when a director has the song selection and arrangement perfectly lined up in advance in order to avoid copyright concerns and chase after whatever the latest hits are.
Hsiao said, “Sometimes I’m also confused. Do users really like what the algorithms think they should like? Can we really predict what will become the next big hit? The entertainment industry is supposed to be a place full of joy and surprises. I think we should keep things light and carefree and stay true to ourselves. That way, we can create more natural, innovative products that have a different flavor to them, and finally give the audience the right to choose.”
Among all of the musical variety shows he has participated in, Duets (aka The Most Beautiful Harmonies) impressed him the most, and he has played the role of a “mentor” on the show for three seasons With this show, Hsiao has full autonomy in regard to the music selection, and also has a say in how the stage is set up, including lighting and positions. It is a lot of work, but he has never been anything but pleased when a performance goes off.
“Do you know what I am most proud of? I made a lot of bold choices on this show, really out-there stuff, and not only did the audience accept it, they liked it. They’ve got great taste. Why can’t we make these shows more fun when it’s now possible for us to reconcile the exploration of commercial value and artistic pursuits in a better way?” In Hsiao’s eyes, fun is one of the words most closely connected with music. He is always on the lookout for more fun-filled stages.
He also hopes that musical variety shows can “look at the big picture and be more detailed.” During his time in Las Vegas, Hsiao was astonished by the O and KÀ shows put on by Cirque du Soleil. He had never imagined that the stage could be used in such a splendid fashion. Using what was on hand, he began to explore how to alter his concerts in a way that would provide the optimal marriage between visuals and music.
Nowadays, musical variety shows are usually quite ornate and visually striking, but the entire production team must first consider whether such visual splendor is a good fit for the spirit of the song being performed, and whether the stage space is being utilized to its fullest extent.
Hsiao feels that cover songs are just as legitimate as the original. For him, there is no golden rule dictating which will garner more praise in the competition, and exquisitely crafted vertical programs can be more “universal” than universal ones. The key is that all musical productions should be meticulously refined. Previous experience and vision are the most important traits to possess, as no ready-made model can serve as the key to universal success, especially when modern audiences are arguably more experienced and knowledgeable than industry insider.
So long as we are alive, we need to fight for ourselves.
As an Aries, Hsiao possesses an innate enthusiasm and stellar work ethic.
Hsiao is the self-proclaimed “King of Self-study.” He taught himself magic tricks when performing with Jay Chou in Paris, learned sophisticated calligraphy that earned him praise from professional calligraphers, and has paintings on exhibit in Shibuya. Most of his musical skills are even self-taught.
Inspired by the Bon Jovi album Crush as well as other artists such as Mr. Big, Skid Row, Prince, and Michael Jackson, Hsiao first embarked on his musical journey as a rebellious teenager. To realize his rock dream, he learned to play keyboard and jazz drums so well that he was capable of teaching others.
As a guitar aficionado, he has become exceptionally proficient over the past two or three years. Once he sets his mind to something, he will not rest until he reaches a level that he is satisfied with.
When asked why he still wanted to learn guitar in his thirties, he responds, “I just couldn’t resist the allure of mastering the guitar, as it’s an instrument I’ve loved for so many years. It can also help broaden my horizons by providing me with an additional musical tool to use whenever I hit a creative roadblock.”
Before challenging other stars in One Million Star, he was a resident singer in restaurants. It was a gig that he relished, as it allowed him to be around music all day. When a colleague signed him up for the singing competition and he was “forced” into the spotlight, his ambition took over automatically, and he found himself gunning for first place.
As someone reluctant to change, Hsiao found the music industry baffling long after he had entered it and started releasing albums. Despite this, he put on a brave face and was a consummate professional in his work, learning various non-singing related skills in order to open up new prospects in his life. Going from the camera-shy person he was in the beginning of his career to the gregarious, effervescent, and effortlessly cool presence he gives off now was a long and painful psychological process. “I always say that I have two faces. Sometimes I can be very quiet. For newcomers, they may find it difficult to act animated in front of people, even though they know it’s necessary.” He said.
Hsiao still maintains the momentum of someone new to the business, even though some would say he has had a wildly successful career after ten years of endeavors. He professes, “Perhaps not too many people understand this, but I think that so long as we’re alive, we should always work hard and fight for ourselves. Having a job, especially at the moment, is a cause for celebration, so I can’t slack off.”
Not long ago, he announced that he would temporarily relocate to Chengdu due to the pandemic. At first he was just quarantined in a hotel in Chengdu for seven days in accordance with regulations. During this period, he fell in love with the cityscape, the food, and the climate of Chengdu and decided to reside there for some time.
In terms of music, Hsiao has more bold ideas that he has yet to act on. As his Beijing opera-inspired song in Wu Jia Po 2021 was extremely popular on the Internet, we asked Hsiao whether he was interested in further integrating classical and popular musical art forms in the future.
He said that he has tried many times to achieve this integration of musical styles, and that he wanted to further explore this relationship in order to create more unique musical combinations, “The works of Yngwie Malmsteen, my favorite guitarist, combines a lot of classical music elements. His songs are remarkable, as they are these intricate compositions embodying the elegance, order, and sense of ritual behind classical music, yet at the same time also feature dynamic metal progressions. So I am particularly looking forward to exploring this intermingling dynamic further.”
He also checks Billboard every week to learn about the latest trends in the international music scene trends of international music circles, something which he considers “homework” for singers.
He is very familiar with chart-topping songs from Taylor Swift, Harry Styles, Drake, and other musicians. He also knows the individual evolutions international celebrities have undergone with their musical images and styles. He said, “How is it that, in the international music scene, both newcomers and industry veterans always manage to come up with songs that leave an impression? By comparison, our music circle is a bit dull. What is the problem? I know we have a bright future ahead of us, but as for now, I am eager to work with my peers to make our music environment better.”
As a “music player” who has earned his spot in pop music circles through ten years of hard work, Hsiao said that he will never give up his appetite for music, and that he will continue to better himself in the pursuit of what he loves. This does not mean that he feels he should rush forward blindly in the days to come. Instead, he wishes to spend more energy listening, “For me, it’s important to figure out how my fans and the general public perceives me, as well as all the expectations they have for me.”
From West Hunan to Beijing, and from Beijing to New York, Tia Ray has been singing soul music for more than a decade. For 10 years, Ray has been on the path to international fame, while working to bring Chinese music to the world. In her latest album, The Moon Cannot Sleep, Ray showcases Chinese soul music.
Ray hopes to introduce more music from around the world to China over the next decade. In an interview with Billboard China, she talked about her decade in the industry, how she became the first soul musician in mainland China and her future plans for music.
Born and raised in Huaihua, West Hunan, about an hour’s drive from the ancient city of Fenghuang (phoenix), Ray inherited the musical gene from her great-grandmother, who was Hmong. She likes singing, and was a bold child who loudly sang the Cantonese theme song of Great Hero Huo Yuanjia on the streets. She is also a romantic girl who likes Hmong folk songs. The Hmong people express their love through songs. The unrestrained, cheerful and sweet music was her first impression of music.
At age 16, Ray came to Beijing to study and saw her classmate’s DVD of Michael Jackson’s world tour. That was her first contact with Western music, and she was shocked by how cool pop music could be. That night, she sat on the field and watched the DVD countless times. As she looked at the stars, a seed was planted in her heart. She wanted to learn about other music styles and explore the world to see the places that had nurtured such music.
That exploration eventually led her to soul music. It was love at first “beat,” and her soul resonated with it. She fell in love with the music instinctively and it became her most important music style. At the end of 2022, the story came full-circle. Ray gave a performance at the New York MetaMoon Music Festival. She had not only come to Michael Jackson’s country, but had, as the soul diva, also let the world hear her voice.
Hmong folk songs and soul music, homeland and the world — they may seem like polar opposites. However, in Ray’s view, they are rooted in life, passionate and unrestrained, free like the wind, and have a lot in common.
Music has no national boundaries, but musicians have a nationality. It was from her fourth album, Once Upon a Moon, that she began to combine her own experiences, feelings and thoughts with Chinese features and Western singing style. She finally created a unique Chinese soul style and brought its impact to the world stage.
Deciding on a Style and Freeing the Mind
When I first met Tia at a tea house near the China World Trade Center in Beijing, she was dressed like a cool girl. She wore a glossy black short-down jacket and her hair was tied up in a high ponytail. Her black eyeliner and earrings were especially eye-catching. The blue cartoon sweater under her jacket, her bright smile and her passionate answers revealed her relaxed and confident nature.
She still remembers her first encounter with soul music. In a live house in Chaoyang Park, Cui Jian, the first rock star in mainland China, was drinking downstairs. Tia ordered a glass of orange juice at the door when she suddenly heard a loud voice coming from upstairs. A black woman with a wireless microphone walked up to the stage while singing, and the musicians improvised the performance.
After the performance, Ray and a guitarist ran to the Hi-Fi shop in Dongsi Alley in Beijing to find relevant CDs. There, they saw the albums of popular Western female singers such as Whitney Houston and Mariah Carey. They also found many imported CDs in the warehouse. Ray scrimped on food and bought a CD player. Every weekend, she would go to Dongsi to buy CDs, and this lasted for several years. She broke three CD players and listened to a lot of music by musicians like Stevie Wonder and India.Arie who were not well-known in China at that time. She still has a collection of more than 200 CDs.
“I was very lucky to have come into contact with these things and experience what feels like true love,” she says. The Western music led her to embark on the path of soul music.
“I am a sentimental person. I am a girl from West Hunan who grew up eating chili peppers,” Ray says. “I yearn for freedom, and I pursue passion and things that allow me to imagine. The flexibility, openness, tension and diversity of soul music make me feel free.”
Ray formed a band with her friends immediately, just like how she could not wait to get to a hairdresser and cut her hair when she wanted a haircut. At the end of 2007, she set up the first original composition band, Soul Side. The band brought together many professionals. The drummer was Cui Jian’s drummer; famous musician Chang Shilei was the second keyboard player; Zhao Zhao, the music director of Sister Who Make Waves, was the main keyboard player; and Han Yang, the bass player of Radio Mars, was the bass player. They have been teachers and friends on the road of music and became Ray’s soulmates as she explored music. During those years, Ray learned from her bandmates, absorbing knowledge like a sponge.
Later, Ray joined a second original composition band ThaKnutZ, and she grew to have a deeper understanding of music without borders. The drummer of ThaKnutZ had studied abroad in London, the bassist was from the Dominican Republic, and the keyboard player was from Atlanta. In 2010, the band released a CD. The experience trained Ray in many skills. She bought her first computer and designed the CD’s cover in Photoshop.
She still remembers a show at Jiangjinjiu. She had designed the poster and the tickets were RMB 50 (about $7 U.S.) each. In the end, they only sold 12 tickets. She remembers clearly that she was wearing a black-and-white striped long-sleeve shirt, navy high-waisted jeans and a pair of sneakers. She sang with her hair loose behind her shoulders. The whole band felt that they owned the world.
In 2012, a bigger opportunity came her way. Ray became a sensation on The Voice of China and came under the spotlight. She gained a wider audience and a larger market. Two years later, she released her first solo album T.I.A and positioned herself as a neo-soul singer. From then on, she became known as a soul music singer-songwriter.
Soul music is rare in the Chinese pop music market. It is indeed difficult to become popular singing in the Western style. Zhang Yadong, a famous producer, once said that Ray was too aggressive. Many people expect her to continue singing fresh and quiet folk songs like “A-Chu.”
Ray wavered once. In 2017, on her first appearance on Singer, she sang “A-Chu” and was eliminated immediately.Fortunately, she had a chance to return onstage. She no longer tried to please the audience, but chose what she was best at — soul music. The song “Golden” won the highest score given by the audience in the history of the show.
“Don’t think about which is more popular, and don’t think about whether the audience will like it,” she says. “Instead, do what you love. We only have one lifetime. I want to be myself.”
Create Chinese Soul Music
Her second album TIARA was recorded in the U.S. Ray traveled to the U.S. twice to invite producers of the Grammy Awards to produce her third album 1212. They liked her music as soon as they heard it. Feeling accepted by the local culture, she grew even more confident.
At the same time, there were some male R&B and soul musicians in China, such as David Tao, Wang Leehom, Taiwanese singer Jay Chou and Fang Datong. But Ray was the only female soul musician at that time. This gave her a sense of mission, and she started to think about how to create soul music that truly belonged to her.
“I hope to bring Chinese soul music to the world, and show other countries that Chinese musicians can create soul music with Chinese characteristics,” Ray says.
This sense of mission has grown stronger since 2018. At the invitation of the Berklee College of Music, Ray performed abroad and realized the impact of her overseas influence for the first time. In the auditorium, one third of the audience was Chinese, and they sang along with her. When she stepped off the stage, many people told her that almost all the Chinese students auditioning to get into the school sang Love Can Fly. Ray was moved, and also became aware of the great responsibility she had.
This responsibility also seemed to have affected her music creation. She integrated the Chinese flute, guzheng, and folk music into her compositions. Music critic Er Di commented that the soft music of the guzheng, the style of the tune, and the distinct Chinese quality in the lyrics “Vermilion street, the Bell Tower, the blue dragon and the white tiger…” in the song “On the Clouds” in Tia’s third album 1212 was the soul music of China.
In 2019, Ray brought Chinese soul music to the international stage.
She was the first Chinese singer to be invited to sing at the Warner global headquarters summit meeting in Los Angeles. She sang an English song first, so that the senior executives could understand what she was singing. Then she asked how many of them were from Los Angeles. A few people raised their hands. “You must miss your home and family when you leave home to pursue your dreams,” she said. “Next, I will tell you what my hometown looks like.” Then, she sang “A-Chu.” “This is a folk song, but it is my soul music. Chu means Hunan, which is where I was born.” Then, she sang another Chinese song, Love Can Fly, and was met with thunderous applause. The Warner Global CEO told her that he wanted to visit her hometown because of A-Chu.
Perhaps this is the charm of music. Through simple scales and notes, we can cross geographical, ethnic and cultural backgrounds, connect cultures in minutes, and create emotional resonance. Two years later, with her fourth album, The Moon Cannot Sleep, Ray ushered in a new era. Compared with the direct presentation of Chinese elements in 1212, she integrated Chinese elements and soul music more naturally, seamlessly stitching together ethereal singing and oriental features, and building an international attitude that transcends national boundaries and cultural differences between the East and the West.
The album was inspired by the moon. Ray used traditional oriental features such as the moon and butterflies to start her creation. Instead of relying on international musicians, she produced the album herself, and also did the copywriting, poster design, her own styling, and other fine details, to create soul music that belonged entirely to herself.
The singing style in the album matches the oriental charm of the moon and the butterfly. It is reserved, clear, and gentle. The melody of each song connects to the next, giving the album a sense of wholeness. As for the singing style, Ray spent a lot of time thinking about how to pronounce the words. After the age of 30, “I don’t like singing loudly. It’s like I practiced ‘Iron Fist’ at the beginning, but now I want to practice ‘18 Dragon Subduing Palms’ or ‘Lightness Skill.”
The market reaction exceeded her expectations. The album won her several nominations for the Golden Melody Awards, and received a high Douban (a Chinese culture online community) score of 8 points. People commented that she is “romantic, complicated, noble, languid, full of soul, and deadly attractive.”
The great success of the Chinese soul music album made Ray think, “What do I want to do, what can I do, and what can I bring.”
At this stage, all music fans, regardless of national boundaries, are also her soulmates. “Music belongs to everyone,” she says. “There is no national boundary. It is a common language.”
Greater Opportunities in the Next Decade
At the end of last year, at the New York MetaMoon Music Festival, Ray once again soared to even greater heights on the international stage.
This time she made adequate preparations. She told her agent from the beginning that she wanted to find musicians. Her agent told her that it was too expensive to bring musicians in from China. She thought of the music director of the Justin Bieber band she had worked with. She was a little worried before the call, “He is so busy. Would he answer my call? Would he be willing to join the show?”
It worked out. The music director remembered helping Ray to arrange music and agreed to form a band with her. He helped her to rent a temporary band, which included Bieber’s keyboard player. Even though there were only four of them, the four-man band performed as if it had 10 members.
On the stage, Ray found that there were many Chinese fans, but most of her audience was American. The first song she sang was her Chinese soul piece, “On the Clouds.” She taught the audience how to sing it and they sang the song together.
Tia was filled with emotions then and began to think about a bigger question. “What music do we Chinese musicians want to create, what kind of music should we create, and what should we bring back to China?”
The past decade marks Tia Ray’s self-recognition.
Looking back, “it seems like time has passed in a blink of an eye, but I feel like I have walked for a long time. There were many twists and turns, but the significance is far-reaching. This is the decade that laid the foundation for my understanding. It allowed me to understand who I am, and allowed me to believe more in myself, so it is precious to me.”
In the new decade, the artist hopes to introduce more overseas music to China.
“People have always asked me the question about popular and unconventional music,” she says. “I think the world is actually led by the minority, but embraced by the public. The minority is responsible for development, and the public for dissemination. If everyone follows the popular style, how can music develop? From music styles, singing styles to artistic presentations, I hope they can be personalized, and they must be individualized to stand out.”
Ray is willing to be the pathfinder who explores and opens up lesser known paths. She will also dig into her own growth experience and thoughts, explore more local music, and add it to her own music. At the same time, she hopes that music can include more topics that show a caring for the world, for example, environmental protection.
Aside from music, Ray hopes to do something different. “It is neither a brand, nor a production company,” she says. “It is definitely not a management company. I hope to build a ‘soulciety.’ It is a society with a soul, and I hope to build a larger world of music expression.”
She also plans to build a virtual partner TIVA in the metaverse. TIVA is not a singer, but a stylist. Ray and TIVA can collaboratebeyond the metaverse. “For example, when I sing, she can help me to design my outfit or the stage.”
The music environment is also changing. Short videos and AI have impacted it, but Ray is not worried. “On the contrary, heroes will emerge in troubled times. AI can compose, but I sing better,” she says. In fact, she has always embraced greater diversity in her compositions. Just like falling in love with soul music at the beginning, then having her own Chinese soul music, and now the blending of East and West, her music transcends national boundaries.
In the next 10 years, she also hopes to have more like-minded music partners, her music soulmates.
Her greatest reward over the past decade has been her teachers and friends. They are her fans, friends, and soulmates. Recently, 10 years after the debut of Amazing Timeless Vacation, a concert has been planned. Ray has prepared a surprise. She revealed there would be more than 10 musicians participating in the concert, and she would be singing over 20 rearranged tracks. They have chosen to hold the concert emulating a live house model, allowing them to get up close with their fans. The format of the concert would be based on a solo concert so that every fine detail would be taken care of. She hopes that everyone will have a good time and will leave behind the regrets they have about not meeting during the pandemic.
The ultimate meaning of music, Ray says, is a seed that allows people to feel beauty and energy. Music has allowed her to understand who she is and to feel more self-consistent. It has allowed her to find numerous soulmates, let her be herself and live in eternal romance. It has also allowed her to climb over mountains, travel the seas and cross national boundaries, giving her amazing power.
Her 2022 journey ended when she returned to Beijing from New York after performing, and then returned from Beijing to West Hunan for the New Year. She came back from the largest international stage to where music started for her. It was a journey across three completely different places, but there was no sense of boundary or distance.
Tia Ray
Billboard China
–Article by Xi Bu
U.S. government bans on Chinese-owned video sharing app TikTok reveal Washington’s own insecurities and are an abuse of state power, a Chinese Foreign Ministry spokesperson said Tuesday.
The U.S. government “has been overstretching the concept of national security and abusing state power to suppress other countries’ companies,” Mao Ning said at a daily briefing.“How unsure of itself can the U.S., the world’s top superpower, be to fear a young person’s favorite app to such a degree?”
The White House is giving all federal agencies, in guidance issued Monday, 30 days to wipe TikTok off all government devices. The White House already did not allow TikTok on its devices.
TikTok is used by two-thirds of American teens, but there’s concern in Washington that China could use its legal and regulatory powers to obtain private user data or to try to push misinformation or narratives favoring China.
Congress and more than half of U.S. states have so-far banned TikTok from government-issued mobile devices.
Some have also moved to apply the ban to any app or website owned by ByteDance Ltd., the private Chinese company that owns TikTok and moved its headquarters to Singapore in 2020.
China has long blocked a long list of foreign social media platforms and messaging apps, including YouTube, Twitter, Facebook and Instagram.
Washington and Beijing are at odds over myriad issues including trade, computer chips and other technology, national security and Taiwan, along with the discovery of a suspected Chinese spy balloon over the U.S. and its shooting down earlier this month.
On Monday, Canada announced it was joining the U.S. in banning TikTok from all government-issued mobile devices.
“I suspect that as government takes the significant step of telling all federal employees that they can no longer use TikTok on their work phones many Canadians from business to private individuals will reflect on the security of their own data and perhaps make choices,” Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau told reporters after the announcement.
Canadian Treasury Board President Mona Fortier said the Chief Information Officer of Canada had determined that TikTok “presents an unacceptable level of risk to privacy and security.”
“On a mobile device, TikTok’s data collection methods provide considerable access to the contents of the phone,” Fortier said.
The app will be removed from Canadian government issued phones on Tuesday.
The European Union’s executive branch said last week it has temporarily banned TikTok from phones used by employees as a cybersecurity measure.
TikTok has questioned the bans, saying it has not been given an opportunity to answer questions and governments were cutting themselves off from a platform beloved by millions.
HONG KONG — Concerned about the impact that fake streams are having on the accuracy of China’s music charts, Tencent Music Entertainment (TME) has designed an annual chart that incorporates both streaming and sales data with votes from industry professionals, the company tells Billboard.
The new year-end chart, which TME recently released to the public in China, combines inputs from two existing charts, the TME UniChart and TME Wave Chart, which track weekly and monthly streaming data. They feed into the Tencent Music Chart, the year-end charts compiled by the China-based music giant, which operates streaming apps QQ Music, Kugou Music, Kuwo Music, and karaoke service WeSing.
The TME UniChart, which first launched in 2018 and has been featured on Billboard’s global website (billboard.com) since November, calculates listening data from China’s public radio stations and streaming data on TME-run platforms, including clicks, favorites, downloads, shares, purchases and recommendations. The TME Wave Chart, on the other hand, is compiled by scores and recommendations from over 250 industry professionals every month. (TME, which licenses the Billboard brand in China and publishes Billboard China, would not disclose its math formula for weighting its results.)
The new combined chart was developed to ensure the accuracy and fairness of the rankings, and to address growing concerns from music professionals that China’s music charts are subject to tampering, and include inflated streams and social media statistics, a company representative tells Billboard.
The issue mirrors concern expressed in the U.S. music industry about aggressive organizing by fan groups of certain pop artists to push them up the rankings. That has notably included K-pop group BTS’ fan ARMY and its agency, HYBE, which have come under scrutiny for BTS’ chart successes. (Both HYBE and BTS have rejected accusations that chart manipulation accounts for the group’s success.)
Chinese fan groups often engage in “data work,” which includes conducting online activities to ensure the high placement of celebrities on social media ranking boards,” says Dr. Celia Lam, associate professor in Media and Cultural Studies at the University of Nottingham Ningbo China, who studies audience and fan engagement. “Organized team-building activities within fandoms can include daily data targets – liking, sharing or reposting social media posts or using specific hashtags — to ensure the continued data performance of a celebrity figure,” she says.
China, the world’s sixth-largest music market, has dozens of domestic music charts, including some run by China’s state-owned broadcaster that have been operating for about two decades. But the country lacks an industry-recognized reference chart like the Billboard Hot 100 or Spotify’s Weekly Top Song Global.
Several established music charts already exist in China, including Global Chinese Golden Chart (jointly launched by seven largest Chinese-speaking radio stations), China Music Billboard (run by China National Radio MusicRadio), and Global Chinese Music under CCTV. There are also emerging music charts run by streaming platforms such as Fresh Asia Music Weekly Chart, NetEase Music Hot Songs Weekly Chart and QQ Music MV Chart, along with some hosted by social media platforms such as Sina Weibo and Douyin.
With fewer music listeners tuning into radios, charts run by China’s public broadcaster have become limited in their ability to reflect a song’s popularity. Music professionals have questioned the credibility of emerging music charts, as fans in China are known to mobilize in mass-streaming activities to push their singers to the top of the charts, preventing those charts from reflecting the organic popularity of songs.
Tencent Music says it wants to help weed out fraudulent activity and create more credibility for its own charts. Still, the move comes amid recent government regulatory scrutiny on TME for its potential monopoly stranglehold on the streaming market. Music listeners in China spent 70% of their time streaming music in 2022 on TME’s three major platforms — QQ Music, Kugou Music and Kuwo Music, the company says. TME had 85.3 million paying music users as of the third quarter of 2022, according to company filings.
Leveraging the huge amount of data generated by TME’s services, the annual rankings also offered insights into China’s fast-growing music industry. In 2022, pop stars Jay Chou, Yisa Yu, Lala Hsu, G.E.M., Mao Buyi and Jackson Wang took the top spots on the Tencent Music Chart. Rising stars Zhou Shen, Joker Xue, Liu Yu Ning, Xin Liu rounded out the top 10.
“Looking at the annual charts in recent years, we can see that the Chinese music market has begun to diversify,” Vincent Lee, director of TME’s charts team, tells Billboard. “Influential singers like Jay Chou, Eason Chan, and Karen Mok still occupy important positions in the music market. But the power of the new generation should also not be underestimated such as the very young boy band Teens In Times and Zhou Shen, who gained popularity through variety shows and original soundtracks of film and television dramas.”
Music lovers in China have also started branching into different music genres. Besides Jay Chou’s “Greatest Works of Art” and “Free of Worries When Flowers Blossom” by Zhou Shen, Chinese listeners embraced “You Are My Magic” by Taiwanese psychedelic rock band Accusefive and Cai Xu Kun’s romantic love song “Hug Me.”
Younger rising artists have also begun to win the hearts of fans. “Getting Warmer” by Teens In Times topped the UniChart as song of the year, while the song “Beautiful” by the boy band INTO-1 member Mika has remained on the chart for 52 weeks.
“Judging from the hit songs in recent years, there is less and less a ‘standard formula’ to musical success,” says Lee. “Different types of music have shown strong potential in China’s music scene, and popular songs have emerged from all kinds of genres.”
“The past is a prologue, something to treasure on the long road of life.”
Although life slowed down for many people in China in 2022, the country witnessed many heartwarming stage performances, artist breakthroughs, an emerging new generation of young musicians and the growing role that technology is playing in music.
To bid farewell to 2022 and usher in 2023, Billboard China spent an evening with 12 musicians from different generations and musical styles. They shared their achievements in 2022, their thoughts on the past year, and expressed their expectations for the future.
Keep Singing and Exploring
Even though Zheng Jun, Zhang Yuan and Su Xing (Allen Su) are industry veterans, 2022 was a brand-new experience for them.
Zheng Jun, a Chinese rock legend, was among the cast of contestants when Call Me by Fire (Season 2) premiered in August. In an interview, he said that his friends were afraid that his participation in the show would “make him lose his integrity in his later years,” but he responded that, “In my later years, I intend to break new personal ground, not preserve the old.”
In trailers for the show, Zheng stunned audiences with his casual demeanor. Far from seeming “called by fire,” he instead practiced meditation, ate barbecue and applied facial masks. When it came time to hit the stage, he instantly took audiences back to the golden age of rock and roll with his floral shirts and classic swagger. Zheng has claimed that “all I’ve ever dreamed of is true love and freedom,” and this sentiment shines through in his stage performances.
People have commented how Zheng seems to have remained the same, something all-too-rare in these ever-changing times. For Zheng, his reverence for his songs, his passion for music and his dedication to creating the best art possible has never changed.
In other ways, however, Zheng has changed. He is now more relaxed, happier and more optimistic. For him, the show feels like an adventure with friends both old and new. Before the competition got underway, Zheng sent a message to his friend Faye Wong saying that his only goal was to “have fun.”
In contrast, Zhang Yuan and Su Xing (Allen Su) brought about an upswing for themselves in 2022. 0713, the down-and-out men’s team, finally saw things turn around after an unexpected resurgence in popularity after their appearance on Welcome to the Mushroom House.
Reflecting on 2022, Zhang Yuan says he is pleased that he participated in as many music variety shows as he did. He is also happy that he managed to secure many different stages to show what he was capable of, and that he got to participate in some original soundtracks. Su also joked about having such a heavy workload on the show that it was enough to make him “happy for more than half a year.”
From Super Boy (Happy Boy) to Welcome to the Mushroom House, and then onto even bigger and better stages down the line, 0713 owe their success to their persistence. Zhang Yuan continued to innovate with his music, and found that music and the stage still held the highest allure for him, even after having been in the industry for many years.
Su cast an even wider net. He participated in talk shows, tried his hand at being a sports blogger and dabbled in content planning for variety shows.
They may be pursuing different goals, but they are taking a similar path. Personal milestones and progress will come naturally when you love what you do and keep an open and inquisitive heart and mind.
Zheng Jun, the oldest member, along with Zhang Yuan and Su Xing (Allen Su), come from the first generation of talent shows. Throughout the years, their admiration and love for music has never faded, and they have ceaselessly explored the infinite possibilities that music affords them. Overcoming all obstacles that lay ahead of them, they always walk their own path.
New Styles and Tasks
Some musicians focus on their styles and areas of expertise, while others turn to new tasks and directions, enjoying the occasional detour in their musical journey.
From Morning Bound for Midnight to The Direction of Light, music fans have become familiar with Zhang Bichen’s work over the past few years. Somewhat unusually for someone with such a commanding stage presence, Zhang openly admits that she has maintained the habit of ”thinking and summarizing” ever since her debut. In her creative process both on and off the stage, she has carefully analyzed her own experiences, and jumps at any opportunity she gets to compare and contrast them with other musicians.
This constant loop of dissection and communication led her to make some interesting creative choices in 2022. Wearing a spunky ponytail and a light and comfortable denim jacket, Zhang walked out into the auditorium with a completely revamped image, jumping up and down as she sang “Select C.” This was the first time that Zhang, a singer with extensive stage experience, had participated in a show where she could interact with the audience more directly. This experience has made her look forward to dipping her toes into other music styles and discovering more aspects of herself in 2023 while she prepares her new album.
Both Pan Yunqi and Wang Yinuo started as trainees of the 2022 season of Sing! China, and they now have officially embarked on the road of becoming professional musicians. For these two fresh faces, the world is their oyster.
Although Pan is very young, she is often praised for her assertive stage presence. Possessing a maturity beyond her years, she excels at heartwarming narrative-based songs, but also tried her hand at “My Good Luck,” which is more of a traditional ballad. While she may be new, this college student is clearly not afraid of trying new things.
Wang’s timid outwardly appearance belies the robustness of his singing voice. A quote from one of his songs: “Just look forward, don’t look at money/ At least your heart will not loosen when you look forward.” Offstage, he is a down-to-earth and sensible person who stresses the importance of healthy eating and sleeping habits.
After singing a series of popular OSTs, Ye Xuanqing began to delve into more original works as well as production. She said that learning about different artistic processes could help improve her ability to appreciate art, facilitate her own ability to create, and further clarify where she stood amongst all of this.
Hu Shih, a Chinese litterateur once said, “Why be afraid of the infinity of truth? Joy resides in every step of growth.” Newcomers and veterans in the music industry always face new tasks. So long as they dare to think, do, and try, they can unlock the infinite potential that resides within them.
Find the Right Positioning and Expand the Boundaries
For the young musicians who are on the rise, 2022 was undoubtedly an important moment for them to mature as artists. Some of them released their first EPs, and some had their first concerts.
In an industry where newcomers are always emerging en masse, young musicians often regard finding where they fit in and answering the question of “Who am I?” as the most important task every new year.
Chen Zhuoxuan was nothing if not blunt. “The pressure of this competition is through the roof,” Chen Zhuoxuan says bluntly. Her solution to deal with the pressure? Determine the musical style and direction that best suits her and try her utmost to stand out as an artist. In her spare moments, she practices her songs and has been learning the cello, guitar, and ukulele. She has also been studying arrangement and other music-related skills.
For Wu Xuanyi, it’s all about passion. To be given an opportunity to stand in the spotlight and express herself is the greatest reward her musical journey has given her so far. She prefers using her passion in pursuit of personal satisfaction and growth. Wu firmly believes that the most basic elements are the most important ones, so she always trains her basic skills and vocalization to ensure that they can always be called upon when needed.
Relative newcomer He Luoluo says in the interview that making plans wasn’t his strong suit — he just wants to experience the here and now. But he remains remarkably serious when it comes to his music and performing on stage. After an initial period where he lacked direction, he eventually entered the entertainment industry when he was 18 years old. Now in his twenties, he has his feet firmly planted on the ground.
Yang Haoming hopes to pursue music and acting simultaneously, as he “can’t stand the idea of having any regrets.” Yang has been acting in film and television dramas since his debut as a music artist. He released a new EP immediately after having a difficult time with his acting agent. Yang felt that his heart was telling him to push himself to expand his boundaries.
New Technologies
On Dec. 12, TME announced the debut of Lucy, the company’s first hyper-realistic virtual idol, creating another hot topic for Chinese music circles in 2022.
After the release of her first single, “Superposition State Girl,” many music fans wondered if Lucy’s voice was real. In fact, her voice is generated by feeding her mass amounts of data pertaining to the singing and timbres of specific targets. Her proficient singing abilities allow her voice to span multiple octaves with ease as well as pull off transposition, trills and portamentos.
As an AI idol, Lucy also has her own independent personality and preferences. Being intensely curious about daily life, she likes to observe and collect the sounds and sights of the world around her. Subway announcements on a busy line in the early morning, the sound of coffee beans being ground in the afternoon, the ticking sound of the traffic lights counting down in the evening…they are all enough to light a creative spark within Lucy.
The virtual idol must face the challenge of breaking through walls between virtual and real world in order to truly communicate with audiences and other musicians. Wandering in different dimensions is also a constant source of inspiration for Lucy. Achieving cross-dimensional cooperation with human musicians is one of her goals in 2023.
Lucy is more than an AI idol who produces AI music. In the future, a new open-source sound based on Lucy’s voice will facilitate music creation in other application scenarios. Music creators will be able to make use of Lucy’s voice clips or open-source sounds to achieve technology-driven creative music co-creation.
Jam Hsiao Ching-Teng
Courtesy of Billboard China
“Today, I am a singer,” Alec Su You-peng says shortly after he sits down.
After nearly three decades, Su, formerly a member of one of the earliest Chinese boy bands, is ready to make a comeback as a singer in another band this year with new music.
Such is its power — music always has a way of making enthusiasts return to it no matter how long they have been away.
Music is as vital as water
Su learned to play the keyboard at a very young age. However, when he was in middle school, his parents wanted him to excel academically and therefore made him give up his music lessons. It was also then that Su became fascinated with pop music. He followed Billboard hits introduced by radio DJs. Music gradually became the most reassuring haven and source of companionship for teenage Su. He rattled off the names of some of his favorite superstars, such as George Michael, who had a glorious singing voice, and Mariah Carey, who can sing beautiful melodies with pearl-like clarity.
“It may sound like a bit of an exaggeration, but at that time, music was like water to me. I could not live without it,” Su says. Looking at the Billboard logo during his Billboard China cover interview, Su says, “This had been a window to my life.”
Growing up in Taipei, Su was a teenage singer in Taiwanese boy band Xiao Hu Dui (also known as Little Tigers). The record company provided the band members with basic performance training before their debut. Blessed with his previous theoretical foundation and musical knowledge, Su excelled in his musical studies and gradually enhanced his songwriting skills. By the time of his solo release, he had a better opportunity to gradually showcase his creative talent. He composed songs in a variety of styles, such as “Ca Jian Er Guo” (Like ships that pass in the night), “Xun Zhao” (Seeking) and “Da Bu Liao” (Big deal). However, Su rarely brings up his original works. In his opinion, creation is highly specialized. An abundance of creative energy, continuous inspiration, and a huge time investment are all essential. He believes if he cannot even satisfy himself with the music he creates, there is no need to describe himself as a composer to the public.
Over the past 30 years, Su has dabbled in several trends, including folk music, love songs, R&B, hip-hop and electronic music. He says he would always keep up with the latest trend even though he may not be able to pull off every style. This is something that singers must try to achieve.
Su also misses the older days of music where it was simpler. “Back then, to get your song on the music charts, you only had to ensure that it sold well and did well on radio and TV,” he says. “Now the evaluation is much more complicated. Streaming data is also taken in account. In short, I feel that the value of songs hitting music charts is not quite the same now.”
Customized playlists and smart music recommendations that are popular on the Internet do not seem to reflect Su’s preferences very well. However, making playlists used to be his favorite thing. When he was in middle school, he recorded songs from the radio onto cassette tapes and then transcribed them into his exclusive collection. Only his best friends could receive such a tape on their birthdays. Su admits that now he, like most people, does not have the time or energy to select songs and make his own playlist. He has gradually become used to being “fed” by streaming media. However, no matter what stage of his career he was at, his love for music has never strayed.
Keep going, there’s always a door open for you
In the late 1980s when they rose to fame in their native Taiwan and throughout Asia, Xiao Hu Dui had an unparalleled influence that was beyond the reach of the idol bands that followed. After the band split in 1995, its three members each started a new phase in their lives.
From singer to actor, Su was rejected many times because of his baby face and idol status. He left everything behind to travel overseas for leisure and further his studies in the United Kingdom. But after returning home, his will to achieve his goals still remained strong.
Su devoted his full attention to each of his records and eventually composed classic songs such as “Bei Bao” (Backpack), “Zhen Xi” (Cherish), “Deng Dao Na Yi Tian” (Waiting for That Day) and “Wo De Hao Xin Qing” (My Good Mood). In his acting career, he has portrayed different personalities in roles such as Yong Qi (My Fair Princess), Du Fei (Romance in the Rain), Zhang Wuji (Heavenly Sword and Dragon Saber) and Bai Xiaonian (The Message). His progress is evident with each passing role.
Later in his career, Su turned to directing. He does not see The Left Ear or The Devotion of Suspect X as perfect, but the rigor and meticulousness displayed in his work makes the detail of his films worthy of attention.
Su is now working on his third film. According to the initial plan, shooting will start in October. In March, he unexpectedly received an offer to star in the show Call Me By Fire. At first, he politely declined the offer because the show’s shooting schedule conflicted with his film production schedule. However, the show’s crew was unwilling to give up on him. His film partner later learned of this situation and was willing to set up a film crew for him in Changsha, allowing him to work on the film production between his show recordings. Su agreed to join the show two days before shooting began.
Su was told that the show’s audience would determine whether celebrity contestants would stay or leave. As most of the audience was between 20 and 30 years old, they would have been familiar with his film and TV hits. But Su felt that since he was returning to the music stage, there was no reason for him to sidestep Xiao Hu Dui’s songs. “Xiao Hu Dui has a lot of hits, but I am not a great dancer,” he says, “I had to prepare for more than three months before I performed ‘Qing Ping Guo Le Yuan (Green Apple Paradise)’ on my debut as a mentor on Produce Camp 2019. So I just avoided songs that would require dancing. I thought I would never ever forget the dance using sign language for the song “Ai” (Love), but to my surprise, I had trouble remembering the details. Later, I found a sign-language video from a young girl on the Internet to refresh my sign-language skills.”
When rehearsing, Su realized he was out of practice; his moves and control over his expressions never seemed to be precise. “It was easy for me to tell the trainees how to perform while mentoring them,” he says. “But when it came to my turn to perform, I realized it was difficult to regain the skills I had back then.”
In the end, the performance of “Ai “(Love) went viral online.
When he returned to the stage, it was as if he was once again the young man who was not afraid of the arduous journey ahead. He fought hand-in-hand with his band and eventually won another opportunity to establish his boy band in a starring role. Su often considered himself a poor dancer. But with the help of his team, he started to enjoy dancing. It was more gratifying to Su than being the center of the boy band. “It was a miracle for me,” he says.
Su went from being an idol singer to a popular TV and movie actor, then a director, and now a singer again. “We should seize the present moment, and not worry about where it may lead,” he says. “You just keep moving forward, and sometimes you do not know which door will open for you.”
Catching up with everyone through new work
When Su first debuted, the route to becoming a star was monopolized by various companies. There was a high entry requirement to become a star. However, in the era of self-media, everyone has the opportunity to become famous. From his perspective, that is definitely a good thing, but it also means the superstar era is gradually fading away, as celebrities are slowly becoming less mysterious and less distant from the audience.
In the past, the young and famous Xiao Hu Dui members were adored by a large number of fans. This made the band members quite nervous, so they made a pact with their fans to place an emphasis on honor and order, hoping that everyone would focus more on their individual lives. Su, as a first-generation idol, is a bit puzzled by fandom behavior today. “As idols, we must understand our value and responsibility, then set examples for our fans, and continuously strengthen our performing skills,” he says. “The adoration of celebrities should never be quantified in monetary terms, nor should it be used as an excuse to interfere with other people’s lives. Celebrity fandom is supposed to be a positive thing. How does this become a shackle between celebrities and their fans these days?”
While the release schedule is still being finalized, fans should be able to hear two of Su’s new songs before the Lunar New Year (beginning Jan. 22).
Alec Su for Billboard China
Photo: Xiaoming; Editor: Mi; Stylist: Lindsay
HONG KONG — Zhang Haisheng feels like his business may never go back to normal under China’s strict and constantly changing pandemic policies. Zhang, who runs three live houses in Shanghai under the brand Yuyintang, struggled over the past three years to navigate China’s “zero-COVID” curbs, which shifted from blanket bans on live events in early 2020, to quarantines, to sudden city-wide lockdowns last spring when cases surged — bringing Yuyintang’s operations to a halt.
Since early 2020, Zhang has canceled close to 1,000 shows. Even during some windows when performances resumed, to meet the country’s strict testing rules he had to hire extra workers to check customers’ nucleic acid test records — and ended up operating at a loss. “In the first two years of the pandemic, sometimes performances could be held normally,” Zhang tells Billboard. “But [2022] was bad, the loss has been relatively huge.”
Now, after a series of street protests, the Chinese government appears to be abandoning its zero-COVID strategy. On Dec. 7, it began easing mass testing requirements and allowing people who have mild symptoms to quarantine at home instead of at government-managed facilities.
More than a year after most of the world resumed concerts and festivals, China’s live industry is finally looking at a rebound. That recovery is likely to focus mostly on domestic acts, live executives tell Billboard, in part because Western artists were already electing to skip China on their Asian tour swings because of stricter Chinese permitting rules — a trend that is expected to continue for the foreseeable future.
While other parts of the world were lifting travel restrictions and bracing for a reopening early last year, the fast-spreading Omicron variant spurred dozens of cities across China, including Shanghai, Beijing, Wuhan and Guangzhou, to lock down. During one virus surge, more than 4,000 performances were canceled or postponed throughout China from mid-February to mid-March of 2022, the China Association of Performing Arts estimates.
Citizens reacted angrily to the measures, triggering some of the most widespread anti-government protests in years. On Nov. 25, a fire killed 10 residents of Ürümqi in northwest China, which many suspected was linked to strict COVID policies that have trapped people in their homes. Workers, students, and residents in a dozen cities across China took to the streets, demanding changes to the Chinese government’s harsh COVID rules. Some protesters even called for China’s leader Xi Jinping to step down.
With the lockdowns lifted, musicians, live music venues and concert bookers are bracing for a surge of infections, while at the same time looking for ways to recover their previous losses.
Zhu Ning, founder of VOX Livehouse, one of the best-known live venues in Wuhan, has been finding ways to leverage his empty venues throughout the pandemic. He ventured into the world of music training, turning his three live venues into rehearsal rooms with recording studios. Zhu also operates his own music label, which has signed bands such as Chinese Football, a four-piece indie rock group. “Since it’s impossible to perform during the pandemic, we did more work on the songwriting and recording side,” he says.
As the founding drummer of SMZB, one of China’s early punk bands, Zhu supports and promotes new indie acts in Wuhan. “Since China’s borders were closed and foreign bands were not able to come in, there has been more space for local acts to perform, and I guess that’s one of the silver linings coming out from this pandemic,” he says.
Starting in early December, Chinese authorities have begun to review show permits again, and he expects local performances to go back to normal levels in 2023, which for VOX would mean around 230 shows per year. “It was quite frustrating in the past three years,” Zhu says. “It affected us too much, and we are almost unable to bear the consequences.”
Protesters march along a street during a rally for the victims of a deadly fire as well as a protest against China’s harsh Covid-19 restriction s in Beijing on November 28, 2022.
NOEL CELIS/AFP via GI
While some have high hopes for the future, Ai Jing, who runs the concert booking agency Haze Sounds, is still struggling to resume operations. Touring musicians from outside of China — who have not been allowed to perform in the country for three years — are still unable to obtain a visa and show permit, since China’s borders are still closed to outside performers.
Acts booked through Haze Sounds, such as Novo Amar, who were scheduled to perform in March of 2020, have been postponed multiple times, currently to November 2023. “I have fans who bought tickets for this performance when they were freshmen in college, and now they have all graduated,” Ai says.
Western Artists Eschewing China For Other Asian Cities
Even with a reversal of zero-COVID policies, the reemergence of China’s live music market is likely to be almost entirely domestic for at least the first half of 2023, as global touring artists decide to skip China and perform elsewhere in Asia, one live music industry executive tells Billboard. International acts such as Arctic Monkeys, Aurora and Kings of Convenience have announced their Asia tour dates for 2023, but China is not on their schedules.
Even before the pandemic started, Western artists were already doing fewer shows in China, often because of permitting and other challenges. Chinese officials “made it harder and harder to get permits for quite a long time, so a lot of artists just stopped going there,” the industry source says. “Everything started to somehow potentially step into the world of politics.” (Promoters typically need permits from China’s Ministry of Culture and Ministry of Public Security.)
A Billboard review of eight major venues — including Mercedes-Benz Arena in Shanghai and Wukesong/Cadillac Arena in Beijing — shows that the number of major Western artists performing in China has been falling since 2013. In that year, 21 artists visited China, including Justin Bieber, Alicia Keys and OneRepublic, compared to only five in 2019, when The Chainsmokers and Shawn Mendes played Mercedes-Benz and Westlife visited Cadillac Arena.
Global acts have adjusted to the challenges of touring in China by finding other cities in Asia to fill out their Asian tour schedules, which typically total between eight and 12 shows. The absence of Shanghai and Beijing, the Chinese cities with the most viable venues, is not affecting the profit and loss picture for most Western acts, the source says.
Ai, the concert booker, is worried about the long-term effects a border shutdown would have on China’s culture sector and global reputation. “I hope we can open to the world again,” he says. “It would be better if we could be more inclusive and accept more diversity and different voices, but I dare not expect too much.”
In Shanghai, Zhang says that if pandemic measures don’t ease soon, to cut costs he’s considering closing one of his three venues, which host mostly indie rock, folk and jazz acts and have a capacity of about 300 people each. “I hope the policy will relax gradually, because people’s demand for performances has not decreased, and their expectations for overseas bands still exist,” says Zhang. But, he adds, “it will take time for us to get back on our feet.”
–Additional reporting by Alexei Barrionuevo
TAIPEI — Back in the early 2000s, Taiwanese artists such as Jay Chou and Jolin Tsai dominated Chinese-speaking markets throughout Asia, creating a golden era for Taiwanese pop music. While some, like Chou, continued to be influential, other music stars from the island disappeared from the public eye amid increasingly fierce competition from Japan, South Korea and mainland China.
Two decades years later, Taiwanese artists are making a comeback, as TV variety shows and music platforms in mainland China, in a wave of nostalgia rife with political undertones, have pushed their re-emergence. In May, over 100 million people watched re-screenings of Chou concerts from his 2013 and 2019 world tours as part of Tencent Music Entertainment’s Live Concert Series — a record for online concerts that emerged during the pandemic.
That same month, Cyndi Wang — the now 40-year-old Taiwanese singer dubbed the “Sweetheart Goddess” for her sugary pop songs — topped a Chinese music chart after her appearance on the variety show Sisters Who Make Waves. Nine of her songs from the early 2000s took over Chinese streaming site QQ Music’s “rising hits” chart for about a week. Wang’s fans called to buy shares of Mango TV, the station broadcasting the show, and threatened to dump shares if she was eliminated from the show, according to Weibo posts.
“Her appearance on the variety show and the need for entertainment during pandemic lockdowns created the hit,” says Shao I-Te, former China representative of Channel V and general manager at EMI Music China. “It’s a sense of nostalgia. Her fans who have the most purchasing power are now in their 30s, and artists like Cyndi Wang are like a symbol of their youth. With her, everyone starts to miss the good old days of the millennium era.”
Yet with tensions between Taiwan and Beijing’s communist government mounting once again, Wang’s sudden return to fame has also drawn online criticism in mainland China. After former U.S. House Speaker Nancy Pelosi‘s visit to Taiwan in August, netizens accused Wang of not supporting the “one China” principle after she initially failed to share a propaganda post from CCTV (Chinese state television) on social media site Weibo which declared “there is only one China in the world.”
Wang was among about 30 Taiwanese artists, including Chou and Tsai, that people online called out for not supporting the statement without hesitation. (She later reposted the CCTV message on Weibo and expressed support for the “one China” principle, which then generated criticism from Taiwanese citizens.)
China sees Taiwan as a breakaway province, while Taiwan has its own constitution and democratically elected leaders. China has never renounced the use of force to bring the island under its control and has held military drills in the air and seas around Taiwan, including the firing of ballistic missiles after Pelosi’s visit.
The Rise and Fall of Taiwanese Music in Mainland China
Taiwan’s pop music export wave started in the 1980s when Teresa Teng swept mainland China by storm. Then Jacky Cheung‘s 1993 album The Kiss Goodbye sold 1.36 million copies in Taiwan and over 4 million copies in greater China — sales that surpassed U.S. album sales for Madonna and Bruce Springsteen around that time, which helped entice global record companies to enter the Asian market.
Universal, Warner, Sony, EMI and BMG established their Asian hubs in Hong Kong, bringing capital and production technology and further spreading the influence of Hong Kong and Taiwanese pop music across Asia.
After the financial crisis in 1997, Hong Kong’s economy struggled, and a group of newcomers appeared in Taiwan. In 2001, Shao’s Channel V named Chou best male singer; it was the first time someone replaced Hong Kong’s Four Heavenly Kings in this award category. Since then, artists such as F4, Mayday, Tsai and Singaporean artists Stefanie Sun and JJ Lin — who went to Taiwan to jumpstart their careers — started to influence the next decade’s music.
“People born from 1980 to 1995, this entire generation has become an important generation supporting these singers, who have purchasing power and great acceptance of pop music, and with their help, these artists created the music taste of a generation,” Shao says.
In 2004, during the Taiwanese golden age, Wang performed her hit “Love You” on the Sisters Who Make Waves variety show. But after the global financial downturn of 2008, and the rise of China’s economy that followed, the fortunes of Taiwanese artists began to change.
Cyndi Wang attends a press conference to promote her new album on December 16, 2018 in Taipei, Taiwan of China.
Visual China Group via GI
Around 2010, Chinese internet giants Tencent, Netease, Alibaba and Baidu kicked off an era of online music streaming that created a more distinct mainland Chinese market, which made it tougher for Taiwanese and Hong Kong pop music to break into China.
By 2018, despite a history of rampant piracy, China had grown into the seventh-largest music market in the world with $531.3 million in total revenues that year, according to IFPI. (Taiwan, which has 23.5 million people — a small fraction of China’s 1.4 billion — has held around No. 25 the past few years.)
“Taiwan continues to breed contemporary pop acts but with reduced probability of success in the mainland market,” says Xing Xiaole, French music distributor Believe’s Beijing-based head of artist services for China. He says that’s because Taiwanese artists have struggled to adapt to the distinct ecosystem of Chinese social and advertising platforms, and had to endure travel and group gathering restrictions during the pandemic.
Xing, who also deals with Taiwanese clients, says the biggest Taiwanese music influence in mainland China today comes from indie bands such as the jazz-influenced synth-pop group Sunset Rollercoaster and The Chairs, which releases songs written in English, Mandarin, Japanese and the Taiwanese dialect.
But the rise of mainland China’s market means that Chinese-speaking musicians can no longer rely on Taiwan as a starting point to become as influential as before. Some of them choose to head west to China. And when tensions flare between China and its island neighbor, they often get tangled up in the political wrestling across the Taiwan Strait.
In the 1980s, the Taiwanese government used Teresa Teng’s love ballads, which were popular across China and then banned by communist Beijing, in anti-communist propaganda broadcasts.
The Chinese government, for its part, often requires artists to toe the party line, including referring to Taiwan as being part of China. Taiwanese singers whose careers are based in China have been invited to attend CCTV’s New Year’s Gala to spread pro-unification thoughts.
“There’s always been a red line for Taiwanese artists in mainland China, ever since the 1980s,” Shao says. “What the new generation of artists can do is draw from their everyday experiences and create music that can connect with the world.”