China's YouTube: How a New Kind of Chinese Pop Star Gets Made
Much of Chinese popular music is highly manufactured and produced—like it is elsewhere, but to an even greater extent in China. If you think getting caught lip syncing is embarrassing in the U.S., that's fairly common practice among Chinese pop stars (admittedly, I am not a Chinese pop music expert). The "Do-It-Yourself" rock n' roll ethos gets short thrift in China. And so this story now making splashes across the Chinese web and media bears highlighting. It is DIY at its best. Not to mention I have a personal affinity toward good ol' independent music. I have bemoaned the slow pace of rock, grunge, and other alternative music development in China, though it is improving.
The story goes something like this: Two migrant workers separated by 15 years in age recently found themselves as Youku (China's version of YouTube) darlings. They have lived and worked in Beijing for years at odd jobs, but both have an immense passion for rock music. The younger guy, Liu Gang (29), had been busking in Beijing subway stations, when he encountered 44-year-old Wang Xu and struck up a duo. After several shots of Chinese "baijiu"—horribly, harsh alcohol—one night in their migrant hovel, they busted out an impromptu cover of a Chinese rock ballad called "In Spring."
Shirt-less, cigarette dangling in hand, obvious low-budget video, and genuine earnestness—all elements that made the video quickly viral, touching off a storm. It went so far that the Hunan party secretary Zhou Qiang (a young rising political star who will likely be an important player in China's sixth generation of leaders around 2022), in a speech to college students, broke down in tears when mentioning this video and urged the students to see it. Zhou has reportedly committed the lyrics* to memory and has hummed the tune frequently. For Chinese netizens, the song's lyrics somehow took on extraordinary resonance when they were belted out by society's unsung heroes—the ones who toiled to build the cities so that urban yuppies can watch Youku. That blue-collar, DIY authenticity, so much of it lacking in today's Chinese popular culture, struck a chord and made an otherwise maudlin song somehow more meaningful.
Verse 1
I still recall many springs ago
When I still haven't chopped off my long hair
When I didn't have a credit card and didn't have her
When I didn't have a home with 24-hour hot water
Yet back then I was still so happy
Though I only had myself a broken guitar
On the street, under the bridge, and in the wilderness
Singing the song that no one cared about
Chorus:
If one day when I'm old with no one to rely on
Leave me behind in that time of happiness
If one day I quietly leave this world
Bury me in this spring
Verse 2:
Still remember that lonesome spring
When I haven't yet grown a goatee
Didn't have a valentine's day nor a gift
Didn't have that princess
Yet I felt everything was all right
Though love was only my imagination
In the winds at dawn and dusk
Singing the song that no one cared about
Verse 3:
Gazing at this moment's brilliant spring
Feeling that same old warmth again
I chopped off my hair and grew a goatee
Past pains swept by the wind
Yet now I feel so down
Ever confused by the passing of time
Under this parching spring sun
My tears unstoppably flow