Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Why Know One Know They Exist


Chinese rappers Dragon Tongue Squad put the bling into Beijing
Dragon Tongue Squad don't do lyrics about drugs, guns or violence: the right to party is still controlled by the Party
Jane Macartney

Kirby Li, Crazy Chef and Little Tiger (pictured, left to right) are nonchalant about becoming China's first hip-hop group to perform overseas for China Now, a festival of Chinese culture being held in the UK, and at a venue as renowned as the Royal Opera House in London. But their sang-froid may be more to do with their image as cool musicians; when it comes to their art they can hardly contain their enthusiasm.

Their group, Dragon Tongue Squad, is at the forefront of what is still a tiny movement in China. They are the first to acknowledge that hip-hop in China is a far cry from the hard-edged gangsta rap born on the streets of America. This is hip-hop with Chinese characteristics. So wholesome is its image that parents accompany their children to gigs.

Zhang Nan, aka Crazy Chef, is not afraid to stand out from the crowd in a country where homogeneity is cherished. His hair is plaited into tight braids, he wears his baggy jeans low on his hips and a long necklace with a sparkling pendant of the character for his name hangs around his neck. On the street the 29-year-old attracts curious glances.

A more-than-passing knowledge of English and a shaven head mark out Li Junju, aka Kirby Li aka Sketch Krime aka Verbal Confucius, from his peers. He also knows how to make an entrance, bouncing into the room, greeting those present in idiomatic English and tossing out a few F-words. He and Crazy Chef are the founding members of the group and met four years ago while engaging in MC battle in Beijing.
Related Links

* China Now? All over the UK in 2008

* China in Britain

* The curious world of Chinese hip-hop

Sitting cross-legged on the floor of a tiny studio at a theatre off Beijing's main shopping street, Li switches with ease between English and Chinese. “Our ambition is to make hip-hop that is uniquely Mandarin,” he says. “We want to have an impact on Chinese music because now the mainstream is all insipid little love songs. We need something new.”

They have to compete not only with the saccharine ballads beloved in China but with the rising popularity of US hip-hop. “If you go into a club the kids are all dancing to Western hip-hop. They think it's trendy because it's from the West,” Li says. “The easiest way for Dragon Tongue Squad to become famous would be to make a name abroad and then come back into China from the West.”

But Crazy Chef - a former cook who is still registered as employed in the kitchen of a Beijing hotel - and Li are fiercely proud of their Chinese style. They have introduced traditional Chinese instruments to their music and are inspired by ancient tunes. They employ a Chinese dulcimer - the yangqin - as well as the two-stringed erhu and the ancient pipa - a plucked string instrument with a fretted fingerboard.

The group try to keep the tone of the lyrics and the music close to the lives of young Chinese. Crazy Chef explains: “My inspiration is daily life, the daily struggle that we face. Our world has changed and now people want to make money. If I talk about my sadness then people will ignore me.” And so they rap about trainers and clothes and bling and - above all - about girls.

The aim is to focus on what is important for young Chinese. “We rap about how to make money and about how to get girls and about getting a happy life. But mostly about girls. How they break our hearts.”

The issues that colour American hip-hop would not resonate with a Chinese audience. “We have to keep our lyrics real,” Li says. “The life of people in China has nothing to do with drugs, guns or violence but it's more about how hard it is to find a job and how you feel when your boss curses you or your girl dumps you.”

These two young men are also acutely aware of how far they can test the patience of the Communist Party censors. They recount how several of their songs are punctuated with bleeps when played on Beijing radio stations. But Chinese, a language based on tones, allows for playfulness with words intended to confuse.

“I wrote one line that said, ‘When I f***ed the first hole', but I changed the tones of two words and it sounds like ‘When I floated the first season',” Li says. “Those in the know get it at once.” The group don't touch on gangs and certainly not politics. “We don't want to go to jail.”

But they are looking forward to the chance to rap with British hip-hop artists. Even better, Li adds: “There won't be any bleeps in our songs.”