No Time For Short Letters
The start of an era in China, the end of one in Vietnam, and the fraught future of Afrobeats
I’m trying something new this month in adding more text to my round-up of different scene reports, to the point where they’re hopefully approaching proper summaries. It makes the Report section a bit more—well, report-like, which seems like an appropriate development (although I also separated out by geography to make it a bit more digestible). The album rec is still there, and for paying subscribers, a customer playlist at the bottom with one song from each article featured in the Report. This month that includes a fairly high-energy mix Chinese post-punk, Moroccan metal, Mexican rave, and some other great picks from music scenes that you can read about below.
The Album
Transparent Classroom and Parallel Girls, (You Also Like This Song) You Can’t Be A Bad Person (China)
The debut album by Changsha alternative idol group Transparent Classroom and Parallel Girls is an eclectic and omnivorous take on the pop idol format. The band refuses to sit still, pin-balling from punk to funk to pop to post-rock with each passing track. Most of their experiments work, and as a whole, the (strangely-named) album is charming in its unpredictability, keeping its audience hooked on wondering just what the band will try next.
I shared a single of theirs in a different newsletter a while back, but I found the album itself so interesting that it ended up inspiring an entire article. I have a soft spot for records that keep you guessing, where you’re excited to start each new song if only to find out where the band is headed. I’m still not sure exactly where China’s alt-idol scene is headed, but I can only hope (You Also Like This Song) You Can’t Be A Bad Person is a sign of the direction it decides to take.
The Report
Asia
In Resident Advisor, Vivian Yeung pens something of a eulogy for the Vietnamese club Savage, which was so foundational to Hanoi’s underground club scene that its history is basically the history of the scene itself. After running Savage for a decade, its owner Ouissam Mokretar was forced to close Savage after its last show this past New Years Eve when his landlords, under pressure from the local government to redevelop the site, could not extend his lease. Yeung connects Savage’s fate to a broader wave of club closures across Vietnam as well as China and Thailand, a trend driven by gentrification, government pressure, economic fallout from Covid-19, and reduced interest in clubbing by younger generations. Despite this depressing set-up, the piece ends on a brighter note, emphasizing that clubs like Savage have nurtured an extended community of ravers that’s still creating space for queer and multicultural nightlife across East and Southeast Asia.
Speaking of East Asia, I recently discovered there’s an entire Substack dedicated to post-punk in China. This is a scene I’ve loved for a while, and a part of me was almost sad I hadn’t thought of the idea myself. But Toma Verlaine is frankly doing a better job at it than I ever could, telling the history of China’s post-punk scene through the story of its most famous post-punk band, the inimitable P.K.14. Verlaine’s exegesis paints a vivid picture of the 1990s Nanjing avant garde, charting P.K.14 singer Yang Haisong’s route from a hyper-literate folk enthusiast to the frontman of China’s first post-punk(ish) outfit. And while the site is called “Chinese Postpunk Anthology,” Verlaine also wrote an impressively comprehensive (and entertainingly snarky) guide to the broader world of Chinese indie rock that’s worth a read.
I also had the chance to write about music in China this month, contributing a piece to The Guardian on China’s alternative idol scene. While Japan and Korea have grown into pop culture juggernaut’s, China’s pop idol sector has been hollowed out by state controls that have cancelled domestic idol training shows and all but banned K-pop artists from performing there. In this vacuum, a new class of performers and musicians have established a DIY “alt-idol” scene that’s grown rapidly over the past few years. Without as clear a path to global stardom, these Chinese groups are more willing to experiment than Korea’s corporate pop titans, creating a more stylistically diverse community sustained by artistic passion and a ton of hard work. Oh, and it also has a playlist.
Africa
Also in The Guardian, Chibuzo Emmanuel is fretting about the state of Afrobeats. If you feel like you haven’t heard any African voices in major radio hits recently, you’re not imagining it. The genre’s popularity has waned since it peaked around 2021—even major African artists are having a hard time figuring out what works in today’s post-amapiano malaise. The article focuses more on the business side of Afrobeats, interviewing several industry insiders about their views on where the genre’s moving. Some go as far as to call Afrobeats a pandemic bubble, one that has burst now that listeners no longer need its upbeat grooves to pull them through quarantines and shutdowns. But others say that Afrobeats is just “recharging” and that a new wave of artists recently risen from Nigeria’s underground are well-positioned to bring it back.
In a more personal piece, Akram Herrak writes about his experience growing up in Morocco’s metal scene for Hearing Things. Not long before Herrak’s teenage years, metal fans were fighting for the right to exist against a state that was actively jailing both performers and audience members. But the metalheads prevailed, and by the time Herrak was coming of age, the country had developed a small but fervent metal scene that’s still thriving today. The sounds are heavy—as Herrak jokes, “an audience that gets to experience two or three shows a year doesn’t want progressive intricacies”—but the community is warm. One of the artists Herrak interviews says that he sees the same 200-300 people at Moroccan meal shows no matter the city or band, which is frankly one of the best descriptions of a true music scene that I’ve ever heard.
The Americas
In Bandcamp Daily, Mike Steyels steps us through the spectrum of rave music in Mexico and Latin America as a whole, at one point providing a decade-by-decade rundown of the different electronic subgenres the region has spawned. Latin artists have been combining traditional styles with modern dance music for half a century at this point, a diversity that’s far too complex to be described by blanket terms like “Latin house.” And while more Eurocentric house and techno may have still been dominant for much of this period, regional sounds are finally finding their place in the sun. “It’s taken more seriously, and there’s much more if it,” says Tomás Davo, founder of the influential Mexican label/collective N.A.A.F.I.
Off Mexico’s eastern coast, NME dispatched Kyann-Sinn Williams to Jamaica for Carnival. The iconic celebration took on an extra level of significance this year as Jamaica works to rebuild after Hurricane Melissa flattened buildings and farms across the island’s south coast last October. In its aftermath, Jamaica’s storied music scene has played a more important role than ever, with artists stubbornly continuing to put on festivals that storm damage has turned into logistical nightmares. As reggae star and Lost In Time festival owner Proteje noted, in times like these, just showing up with a rhythm and mic is enough to lift the spirits of an entire country.
Millan Verma explores another legendary stronghold for Black music, writing about Atlanta’s contemporary rap scene for Pigeons & Planes. The city’s hip hop exports have been relatively muted over the past few years as Atlanta has convulsed under an ominous cloud of drill and rage rap. But Verma claims “the tentpoles of rage and drill are collapsing,” toppled by a new generation of Atlanta MCs who are embracing more eclectic influences and a collaborative ethos that has been missing from the scene for a minute. Most have yet to make it big, and Verma actively questions whether it’s even possible for rappers to “make it big” in a culture that’s rapidly swinging back to country and pop. But whatever happens, Atlanta’s new class of rappers are making great music and apparently having fun doing it.
