First time stepped into an underground hardcore scene in New York City. I was not prepared. The lineup comprised four metal/hardcore bands. The entire show lasted for almost four hours. It was a total catharsis. There was so much moshing and jumping around and pushing and stage-diving. Every second I felt someone would get hurt big time. I was not prepared for all these actions in the mosh pit despite knowing this is part of the metalcore/hardcore scene. I had a hard time trying to find a place where I could comfortably stand without making myself part of the collateral damage. The place was packed. With the ear-splitting screaming and shouting and raucous and amp-screeching vocals and shredding, each band’s performance was throwing another wood log into the bonfire. The performance was so raw, with much frustration and anger in the air. and some of the vocals were so dark to the extent of scary. The audience were definitely dressed for the occasion. You saw a variety of band tees, Mohegans, heavy makeups, nose-rings, intriguing patterns of tattoos. Large age difference in the audience too — it ranges from underaged kids who dyed their hairs in rainbow colors to old timers who apparently rocked pretty hard back in the 70s. The underground scene is hardly comfortable, and people who frequent scene like this apparently know each other well while anyone else are just outsiders struggling in the pit with the underaged kids being the obvious exceptions. Those damn kids made up one-third of the audience. I doubt every kid who contributed to the chaos was a fan of hardcore music; more likely because the show was free. The kids were going again and again on the stage-diving and moshing, shamelessly demonstrating the indestructibility and fearlessness in youth.
It was an odd scene — not in its presentation, but in its pure existence. There is hardly any counterculture or subculture in the age of Internet where everyone is able to select the genres they like and compose their own playlists on streaming services and stay in their own communities without listening to literally any other genres of music. People do not have to watch the MTV, or be bothered by who made the Billboard 100, or subscribe to the mainstream at all. In this sense, mainstream music is weakened and replaced by gazillions of fragmented subcultures. Underground music is therefore a misnomer. It is essentially just certain type of music that certain subdivision of the public listen to. Agains, because of fragmentation of music cultures, there is no real mainstream culture to disdain or to fight against. There are plenty of people out there love political raps, as many as those love Harry Styles and Dua Lipa. That said, there is something else going on in the underground scenes, something richer and more sophisticated.
Almost all music lovers pick their favorite bands from the constellation of bands throughout the world. They go to their bands’ concerts in arena, stadiums, big or small venues. They go to music festivals where they favorite bands perform. These performances, however, are culturally controlled. There is always heavy marketing prior to the show; bunch of merchs sold ahead of the show and at the show; a few tickets oligarchs marking up the price by charging service fees that sometimes take up 20% of the ticket price; overpriced alcoholic drinks sold at the show, just to name a few. The whole experience becomes a well-packaged product readily consumable by concert-goers, who may or may not be music lovers. To steal an analogy from someone else, it is an amusement park experience — you go in and you go straight to the roller coaster and the space shuttle for the bang of your bucks. In a show like this, the audience is basically shouting “give me a rock show experience!” and the setup precisely answers to that need.
At the underground scene, however, there is no entrance fee and you will only need to pay for the alcohol (or cokes/ginger beers in the kids’ case). There is no barrier to entry, and there is no pre-screening for anyone’s economic strength. The only thing really matters is your interest in the music. While the underground scene is still alive in a city as free as New York, it is by no means well or thriving. It is barely making ends meet.
At a dinner with a friend with whom I always share my thoughts on music, he asked me, “what kind of music people in China listen to these days?” I thought pretty hard for a few minutes but could not come up with an answer. On the one hand, I am sort of out of touch with the music scenes in my own country these days, on the other hand and more importantly, I have not heard any friends of mine who live in China raving about any up-and-coming bands. My impression of Chinese rock has been crystalized in the 90s or early 2000s when rock and punk music was played in bars in hutongs (alleyways) in Beijing and around universities and where teenagers and college kids were going crazy for “da kou die” (junk and damaged records or CDs) dumped by wholesalers in the west and imported by Chinese record stores. There, counterculture was thriving, in the most improbable place among all places.
That golden age became the breeding ground for Joyride, P.K.14, Carsick Cars, Brain Failure, Hedgehog, Miserable Faith, just to name a few. It can’t be a coincidence that many songs of these bands are in English — for the obvious reason, it is less straining to express high hopes, dissatisfaction, frustration, angst, shattered dreams and profanity in English.
There used to be a live house called You Gong Yi Shan in Beijing that I went for concerts during college years. It was a gathering place for rock bands, punk kids, musicians from all over the world. It had shows almost every other day and the tickets were cheap. I recall going there watching a Nirvana cover band, Norwegian indie rock band Flunk, and many other local bands. I remember the limelight casting on the stage and the stage instantly lit on fire — well, until 11 years later when it eventually had to close. Many other iconic live houses were also closed around the time. From what I heard, it was due to a mixture of political pressure and economic reasons. With the closures, it went teenage riot and yearnings for rebellion. Ironically, the name of the live house is an old Chinese idiom directly translatable to “a foolish man trying to move the mountain.”
About 15 years ago when the rock counterculture was relatively thriving in China, director Kevin Fritz made a movie about the band Joyride entitled “Wasted Orient” while following the band on their nationwide tour. The movie is too honest, and brutally hard to watch. It showcases despair, frustration, filth, and begs the question of how arguably the best rock/post-punk band in China at the time could possibly hit their dead end. In his own words, “[t]he film Wasted Orient is what it is pure and simple … It is the true way of Chinese rock n’ roll … It’s very unwanted in that society and is shown in its citizens’ apathetic response to it.”
Joyside has a song called “Not My Time to Die.” I don’t know the genesis of this Joyside’s song but it very much sounds like begging, for more time, more space and another chance. Not clenching their fists, but appealing for leniency – is that how countercultures are going to end eventually?
It′s not my time
Not my time to die
There must be more to live
I know it’s not the time
So just let me live
I got the lust for life
I′m going to play it in style