By Brian Hu

Relax, it's just mando-pop. Or is it? Wang Leehom and A-Mei's latest records sing of "Chineseness" in ways that aren't music to everyone's ears.

In 2005, pop star Wang Leehom raised some eyebrows among Asian-Americans when he surrounded the release of his tenth album Shangri-la with the phrase “chinked-out music,” inverting a derogatory word to describe his musical fusion of East and West. “If you like to listen to Eastern-sounding music, then go ahead. But what I'm trying to do and accomplish on this album is to create a new vibe called 'chinked-out,' which is a new school of hip-hop.” He continues: “The 'chinked-out' sound incorporates lots of elements of Chinese culture and it actually creates a stronger identity for Chinese music so I would disagree with anybody who would challenge me to think that they would rather listen to karaoke songs because it's more 'Chinese.'”

In 2006, pop star Chang Hui-mei (a.k.a. A-Mei) drew some controversy over the song “Chinese Girl” from her latest album I Want Happiness? The Taiwanese balladeer first sparked criticism when she performed the Taiwanese national anthem at Chen Shui-bian's 2000 presidential inauguration, leading mainland critics to label her a separationist, which in turn led to cancellations of a 2004 Hangzhou concert and caused Sprite to temporarily drop her as their mainland spokesperson. Now, Taiwanese critics are taking issue with the “mainland-pleasing” lyrics of “Chinese Girl.”: “You're nobody's empress / You're a self-respecting Chinese girl.”

Both stars can be called “marginal Chinese” (Wang is a New York-born Chinese-American; A-Mei is a member of the Taiwanese aboriginal Puyuma tribe) who have become royalty in the Mandarin-speaking mainstream with their chart-topping pop albums. For Wang, American roots have lent him street-cred among Taiwanese pop fans, especially female teens aching for sexy bad-boys. For A-Mei, an aboriginal ethnicity has given her the unique image of someone simultaneously exotic and local. Both rose to superstardom by refraining from the politics of their communities: Wang followed the coattails of earlier “ABC” hip-hop groups like L.A. Boyz while A-Mei skyrocketed up the charts by primarily singing in Mandarin, the dominant dialect in Taiwan.

Wang Leehom and A-mei's latest evocations of “Chinese-ness,” however, have allowed their cultural marginality to complicate existing tensions between Taiwanese pop culture and Chinese-American society in the former and aboriginal and Taiwanese/mainland identity in the latter. As evidenced by heated blogging online, Chinese-Americans have taken issue with Wang's use of a racial epithet to describe his music. The comments in these blogs have questioned whether Wang's music is important or unique enough to warrant a new category, and more importantly, have questioned whether the implicit analogy between the “c-word” and the “n-word” is applicable, necessary, or appropriate. In my opinion, the tension arises because Chinese-Americans are uneasy that Wang is freely using the word in Taiwan, where racism against Chinese people doesn't exist in the way it does in America, where the word originated and continues to offend. In some ways, Wang has found a safe space where he can exploit a problematic word to bolster his own “hip-hop” (read: Black) credibility.

I don't want to either support or dismiss the term “chinked-out music" -- that seems to me an irreconcilable problem --although I see merits in both arguments. Instead, I see this controversy as skirting an important issue. Through the term and the hybrid music it describes, Wang Leehom is exploring and announcing a specifically Chinese-American identity on a grand and public scale not possible in the United States. The rapper Jin, for example, failed to have the American public “learn Chinese” because rap plus Asian in the American mainstream is not yet a credible combination. But in Taiwan, a Chinese-American rapper can be so blatant about his/her own thug aspirations as to find a Chinese equivalent of African-American rap music's most notorious word. The word is surely problematic -- for example, it gives the wrong impression of the word to Taiwanese audiences -- but it symbolizes Wang's own desire and ambition to popularize his own understanding of Chinese identity. It may not be surprising, then, that Jin appears on the title track of Wang's latest album Heroes of Earth, showing his Chinese-American solidarity.

The relatively small ripple of controversy sparked by A-mei's new song was diffused by A-mei's own strategic silence, as well as a public indifference to the album. But for the short time when the Taiwanese press questioned the singer about her politics, what the word “Chinese” signified became a talking point. A-mei's record label, Warner Music, issued an explanation: “'Chinese Girl' refers to 'hua ren nü hai' [girls of Chinese ancestry]. It's because A-mei studied abroad in Boston and saw Chinese women struggle to make a living, yet appear resolute and beautiful, that she invited Machi to write the song.”

If we take this statement at face value, then the “Chinese” of “Chinese Girl” refers to the “Chineseness” on display to the rest of the world, not the “Chineseness” at the center of Taiwan/mainland cultural-political tension. The controversy initiated by the Taiwanese press actually draws attention away from the song's true subjects: female pride and Chinese-American identity. It seems that for local critics, A-mei's aboriginal ethnicity makes the song solely about Taiwanese identity and precludes her ability to evoke the word “Chinese” in speaking about other issues. It's clear from the lyrics that she sings to confide these overseas Chinese women:

Yellow skin is your radiance

Black eyes let you see above to the wind and snow,

You run through a patch of sky,

You don't need others to pen you in,

You don't need others to make excuses for you.

Black, white, grey.

You make your own decisions,

Life is full of puzzles,

Squeeze yourself to the front of the pack,

If you can't, I'll help you push.

Go, go, go! You're nobody's empress,

You're a self-respecting Chinese girl.

The emphasis on skin and eye color implies that the subject is considered physically different from those around her, while the emphasis on worldly struggle shows that the subject is an underdog in a harsh environment. These descriptions set up the struggle of an overseas woman such that when we hear the word “Chinese,” it is clear that this person is not in Taiwan, and certainly not directly implicated in Taiwan-mainland conflict. It's further significant that, according to Warner Music, A-mei asked that the song be written by Machi, a Taiwanese hip-hop collective comprised mainly of Chinese-Americans.

Both Wang Leehom and A-mei's deployment of various “Chinese” signifiers reflects a transnational and global understanding of Chineseness that upsets localized interests (Chinese-American with the former and Taiwanese with the latter). Songs on both albums depict the concerns of Chinese people traveling the world: in addition to A-mei's overseas “Chinese girl,” Jin's verse on “Heroes of Earth” boasts, “I keeps it blazing from Shanghai to Beijing, stop in Taiwan back to Hong Kong where they stay doing their thing.” Both songs are multilingual: A-mei sings the words “Chinese girl” in English, while Wang Leehom sprinkles his Mandarin raps with English words and Jin mixes a Cantonese line into his English rap. On the level of music, both are within a cosmopolitan rhythmic vernacular: “Chinese Girl” employs a bumping dance beat (which stands out from the more stripped-down acoustic style on the rest of the album), while “Heroes of Earth” relies mainly on hip-hop and R&B rhythm (which provides the metrical backbone to his integrated Beijing opera snippets). And both artists are defiantly not catering to interests other than their own. While this may lure criticism, they transcend the controversy by staying true to their own marginal conceptions of what it means to be Chinese in a global world.

Published: Thursday, April 13, 2006