Shanghai Vixen

Interesting article in the Prospect, an essay by Kenan Malik on Amartya Sen's new book "Identity and Violence", "in which he claims that the British approach to multiculturalism has undermined individual freedom."  The postulation is that by accepting and focusing on "the Muslim community" as a whole, it ignores the diversity of individuals and their values and identities. It is wrong and ultimately insulting, to consider religious leaders as the best representatives of communities - there's no guarantee that religion is the most decisive factor in Moslems' (or Jews', or Christians') communities, let alone individual lives.

The foundation of this argument is that people's identities are richly multifaceted, and it is a matter of personal choice which aspects they prioritize. Do we identify with family or friends, work or school, religion or philosophy, country of "origin" or country of residence? For most, it is not once clear alliance but rather a constant shifting depending on immediate company, stage of life, what toothpaste you used today. Identities are not fixed in stone, much less are they predetermined.

Anyhow, I'm butchering it, go read the article. It's one of the better frameworks for the awkward (and very Western individualist) construct that is "indentity".  The topic always makes me a bit defensive - I blame attending Brown in the 1990s and being bombared with well-intentioned but very miguided racialist identity politics.  The pop-psychologized So Cal girl in me angsts over my unfittable freakishness, but then takes comfort that doing so confirms that I am still very Americanized. And so I shrug, "Eh. Whatever. 无所谓,无法说," which is very Chinese of me. And then I'm back at square one.

As a humanist, an agnostic and an ex fundamentalist christian (another one of my identity "caps"), I also think that religion is one of the most stupifying of ghettos. Personal faith can be a beautiful thing, but religion as a social structure, especially with the three main Western religions, is a terrifying way of discouraging critical thinking and allowing power-hungry men to manipulate populations and commit gross injustices. There are definite exceptions, the social services (corrupted by anti-contraceptive agendas) provided by Catholics world-wide, the role of churches in the African-American civil rights movement, but those are far fewer and paler than the injustices and horrors still done in the name of god.

A few months ago, the New York Times had a fascinating article on Spanish iconoclast  Juan Goytisolo. "I don't like ghettos. For me, sexuality is something fluid. I am against all we's." It's a sentiment that can extend far beyond sexuality, of course. "To have two cultures is better than one. To know three is more important than two." Indeed.

For those of you I haven't forwarded this to yet, check out: http://observer.guardian.co.uk/review/story/0,,1821230,00.html

It's a good list, and I've been in the process of downloading a lot of the tracks. It's also very useful for someone like me who loves music but isn't very knowledgeable about it.  My family was fundamentalist Christian, I went mostly to affiliated private schools growing up, and mainstream music and pop culture was forbidden. Even classical music, my earliest musical love, was viewed suspiciously as a bit decadent. I did take piano and violin for a couple years, but never got past the discomfort bumps; I was into nothing but books and animals at that age. (My late brother, on the other hand, did well in piano and moved onto the trumpet, and was even in the San Diego youth orchestra. A decade after he was sent away, he stayed with us for a summer, and sneaking through his record collection was my first exposure to contemporary rock - he was a big raver at the time - but rather than indulging my curiousity he yelled at me for looking at his things. Off topic, I've dreamed about him the past three nights, am a bit weirded out.)  So it was high school before I delightedly discovered such things as the Beatles, Simon & Garfunkle, Hitchcock, etc; I've been trying to expand my horizons since, but have had to contend with my cautiously conservative tastes, plus being broke in college before the era of file sharing.

My ignorance is rather embarassing, because I write about music and hang out plenty with musicians and the musically savvy. Jifu used to mock endlessly my affection for the Beatles and 1980s Madonna songs. Yeah, I know the local scenes and industry quite well, but the decisive past 50 years of Western rock? I can discuss Song Dynasty architecture more intelligently.

That's the joy of aging: 1. My tastes have broadened, and I'll listen to anything. Even genres I don't much like, such as metal or hip-hop, I'll sample gamely, and will really like if it's well-executed. It's the chou doufu approach: first bite, you go "ew", second bite you go "hmm", and third bite you go "yum!" Music, people, art, etc all deserve the chou doufu treatment: suffer through the third bite, and then if you dislike you can informedly reject, but you may discover something unexpectedly amazing! 2. Yay piracy! And the Internet, and computer uploading, and my enormous external hard drive. ("Hey baby, wanna see my enormous, hard drive?") Then I travel a lot, staying with friends and uploading their entire CD collections and gaining new enlightenment with each sofa I sleep on. In May, for example, a mix of The Dins and Peace Dragon introduced me to Western Opera, and it's amazing! How could I ever think I didn't like this amazing, passionate genre?! (Of course, this plus photography-fetish means I quickly fill up my tiny internal hard drive.)

So lists like this are the motherload for me. As are music blogs, and I always welcome suggestions from friends/readers. At the moment I'm listening to lots of Kate Bush; I'd already copied a few of her albums from the Beijing Finn when I visited last month, but hadn't gotten around to listening. HOW did I never hear of her before? I'm a dope. Highly recommended, start with Hounds of Love I'd suggest.

Anyhow, here's the list:

The 50 albums that changed music

Sunday July 16, 2006
The Observer

1 The Velvet Underground and Nico
The Velvet Underground and Nico (1967)

Though it sold poorly on its initial release, this has since become arguably the most influential rock album of all time. The first art-rock album, it merges dreamy, druggy balladry ('Sunday Morning') with raw and uncompromising sonic experimentation ('Venus in Furs'), and is famously clothed in that Andy Warhol-designed 'banana' sleeve. Lou Reed's lyrics depicted a Warholian New York demi-monde where hard drugs and sexual experimentation held sway. Shocking then, and still utterly transfixing.

Without this, there'd be no ... Bowie, Roxy Music, Siouxsie and the Banshees and the Jesus and Mary Chain, among many others.
SOH

2 The Beatles
Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band (1967)

There are those who rate Revolver (1966) or 'the White Album' (1968) higher. But Sgt Pepper's made the watertight case for pop music as an art form in itself; until then, it was thought the silly, transient stuff of teenagers. At a time when all pop music was stringently manufactured, these Paul McCartney-driven melodies and George Martin-produced whorls of sound proved that untried ground was not only the most fertile stuff, but also the most viable commercially. It defined the Sixties and - for good and ill - gave white rock all its airs and graces.

Without this ... pop would be a very different beast.
KE

3 Kraftwerk
Trans-Europe Express (1977)

Released at the height of punk, this sleek, urbane, synthesised, intellectual work shared little ground with its contemporaries. Not that it wanted to. Kraftwerk operated from within a bubble of equipment and ideas which owed more to science and philosophy than mere entertainment. Still, this paean to the beauty of mechanised movement and European civilisation was a moving and exquisite album in itself. And, through a sample on Afrika Bambaataa's seminal 'Planet Rock', the German eggheads joined the dots with black American electro, giving rise to entire new genres.

Without this... no techno, no house, no Pet Shop Boys. The list is endless.
KE

4 NWA
Straight Outta Compton (1989)

Like a darker, more vengeful Public Enemy, NWA (Niggaz With Attitude) exposed the vicious realities of the West Coast gang culture on their lurid, fluent debut. Part aural reportage (sirens, gunshots, police radio), part thuggish swagger, Compton laid the blueprint for the most successful musical genre of the last 20 years, gangsta rap. It gave the world a new production mogul in Dr Dre, and gave voice to the frustrations that flared up into the LA riots in 1992. As befits an album boasting a song called 'Fuck tha Police', attention from the FBI, the Parents' Music Resource Centre and our own Metropolitan Police's Obscene Publications Squad sealed its notoriety.

Without this ... no Eminem, no 50 Cent, no Dizzee Rascal.
KE

5 Robert Johnson
King of the Delta Blues Singers (1961)

Described by Eric Clapton as 'the most important blues singer that ever lived', Johnson was an intensely private man, whose short life and mysterious death created an enduring mythology. He was said to have sold his soul to the devil at a crossroads in Mississippi in exchange for his finger-picking prowess. Johnson recorded a mere 29 songs, chief among them 'Hellhound on My Trail', but when it was finally issued, King of the Delta Blues Singers became one of the touchstones of the British blues scene.

Without this ... no Rolling Stones, Cream, Led Zeppelin.
SOH

6 Marvin Gaye
What's Going On (1971)

Gaye's career as tuxedo-clad heart-throb gave no hint he would cut a concept album dealing with civil rights, the Vietnam war and ghetto life. Equally startling was the music, softening and double-tracking Gaye's falsetto against a wash of bubbling percussion, swaying strings and chattering guitars. Motown boss Berry Gordy hated it but its disillusioned nobility caught the public mood. Led by the oft-covered 'Inner City Blues', it ushered in an era of socially aware soul.

Without this ... no Innervisions (Stevie Wonder) or Superfly (Curtis Mayfield).
NS

7 Patti Smith
Horses (1975)

Who would have thought punk rock was, in part, kickstarted by a girl? Poet, misfit and New York ligger, Patti channelled the spirits of Keith Richards, Bob Dylan and Rimbaud into female form, and onto an album whose febrile energy and Dionysian spirit helped light the touchpaper for New York punk. The Robert Mapplethorpe-shot cover, in which a hungry, mannish Patti stares down the viewer, defiantly broke with the music industry's treatment of women artists (sexy or girl-next-door) and still startles today.

Without this ... no REM, PJ Harvey, Razorlight. And no powerful female pop icons like Madonna.
KE

8 Bob Dylan
Bringing it All Back Home (1965)

The first folk-rock album? Maybe. Certainly the first augury of what was to come with the momentous 'Like a Rolling Stone'. Released in one of pop's pivotal years, Bringing it All Back Home fused hallucinatory lyricism and, on half of its tracks, a raw, ragged rock'n'roll thrust. On the opening song, 'Subterranean Homesick Blues', Dylan manages to pay homage to the Beats and Chuck Berry, while anticipating the surreal wordplay of rap.

Without this ... put simply, on this album and the follow-up, Highway 61 Revisited, Dylan invented modern rock music.
SOH

9 Elvis Presley
Elvis Presley (1956)

The King's first album was also the first example of how to cash in on a teenage craze. With Presleymania at full tilt, RCA simultaneously released a single, a four-track EP and an album, all with the same cover of Elvis in full, demented cry. They got their first million dollar album, the fans got a mix of rock-outs like 'Blue Suede Shoes', lascivious R&B and syrupy ballads.

Without this ... no King, no rock and roll madness, no Beatles first album, no pop sex symbols.
NS

10 The Beach Boys
Pet Sounds (1966)

Of late, Pet Sounds has replaced Sgt Pepper's as the critics' choice of Greatest Album of All Time. Composed by the increasingly reclusive Brian Wilson while the rest of the group were touring, it might well have been a solo album. The beauty resides not just in its compositional genius and instrumental invention, but in the elaborate vocal harmonies that imbue these sad songs with an almost heartbreaking grandeur.

Without this ... where to start? The Beatles acknowledged its influence; Dylan said of Brian Wilson, 'That ear! I mean, Jesus, he's got to will that to the Smithsonian.'
SOH

11 David Bowie
The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars (1972)

Bowie's revolutionary mix of hard rock and glam pop was given an otherwordly look and feel by his coquettish alter ego Ziggy. It's not so much that every act that followed dyed their hair orange in homage to the spidery spaceman; more that they learned the value of creating a 'bubble' of image and presentation that fans could fall in love with.

Without this ... we'd be lost. No Sex Pistols, no Prince, no Madonna, no Duran Duran, no Boy George, no Kiss, no Bon Jovi, no 'Bohemian Rhapsody' ... I could go on.
LH

12 Miles Davis
Kind of Blue (1959)

A rare example of revolutionary music that almost everyone liked from the moment they heard it. Its cool, spacey, open-textured approach marked a complete break with the prevalent 'hard bop' style. The effect, based on simple scales, called modes, was fresh, delicate, approachable but surprisingly expressive. Others picked up on it and 'modal jazz' has been part of the language ever since. The album also became the media's favourite source of mood music.

Without this ... no ominous, brooding, atmospheric trumpet behind a million radio plays and TV documentaries.
DG

13 Frank Sinatra
Songs for Swingin' Lovers (1956)

The previous year Sinatra had cut In the Wee Small Hours, a brooding cycle of torch songs that was arguably pop's first concept album. Once again working with arranger Nelson Riddle, he presented its complement; a set of upbeat paeans to romance. Exhilarating performances of standards like 'I've Got You Under My Skin' defined Sinatra's urbane, finger-snapping persona for the rest of his career and pushed the record to number one in the first ever British album chart.

Without this ... the 'singer as song interpreter' wouldn't have been born, karaoke menus would be much diminished.
NS

14 Joni Mitchell
Blue (1971)

Though Carole King's Tapestry was the biggest-selling album of the era, it is Joni Mitchell's Blue that remains the most influential of all the early Seventies outings by confessional singer-songwriters. Joni laid bare her heart in a series of intimate songs about love, betrayal and emotional insecurity. It could have been hell (think James Taylor) but for the penetrating brilliance of the songwriting. Raw, spare and sophisticated, it remains the template for a certain kind of baroque female angst.

Without this ... no Tori Amos or Fiona Apple - and Elvis Costello and Prince have cited her as a prime influence.
SOH

15 Brian Eno
Discreet Music (1975)

Brian Eno, it is said, invented ambient music when he was stuck in a hospital bed unable to reach a radio that was playing too quietly, giving him the eureka moment that set the course not only for his post-Roxy Music career as an 'atmosphere'-enhancing producer, but for the future of electronic music.

Without this ... we wouldn't have David Bowie's Low or Heroes, the echoey guitars of U2'S The Edge, and no William Orbit, Orb, Juana Molina. To name but a few.
LH

16 Aretha Franklin
I Never Loved a Man the Way I love You (1967)

'R-E-S-P-E-C-T. Find out what it means to me!' Is there a more potent female lyric in pop? Franklin's Atlantic Records debut unleashed her soulful ferociousness upon an unsuspecting public, and both the singer and her album quickly became iconic symbols of black American pride.

Without this ... Tina Turner, Mariah Carey, girl power would not exist, and rudeboys would not spit 'res'pec' through kissed teeth.
EJS

17 The Stooges
Raw Power (1973)

Produced by David Bowie, who also helped re-form the band, Raw Power was the Stooges's late swansong, and their most influential album. The Detroit group were already legendary for incendiary live shows and first two albums, but Raw Power, though selling as poorly as its predecessors, was subsequently cited as a prime influence by virtually every group in the British punk scene.

Without this ... no punk, so no Sex Pistols (who covered 'No Fun'); no White Stripes.
SOH

18 The Clash
London Calling (1979)

The best record to come out of punk, or punk's death knell? On this double album, The Clash fused their rockabilly roots with their love of reggae, moving away from the choppy snarls of the scene that birthed them. This was the album that legitimised punk - hitherto a stroppy fad - into the rock canon. Its iconic cover, and songs about the Spanish Civil War brought left-wing politics firmly into musical fashion.

Without this ... would the west have come to love reggae, dub and ragga quite so much? We certainly would have no Manic Street Preachers ... or Green Day, or Rancid ... or possibly even Lily Allen.
KE

19 Mary J Blige
What's the 411? (1992)

When the Bronx-born 'Queen of Hip Hop Soul' catapulted her debut on to a legion of approving listeners, she unwittingly defined a new wave of R&B. Before Mary, R&B's roots were still firmly planted in soul and jazz (ie Aretha Franklin and Chaka Khan). The emergence of hip hop and this album from Blige and her mentor and producer Sean 'Puffy' Combs (aka P Diddy) gave birth to a new gritty sound, informed by the singer's harrowing past.

Without this ... no R&B/soul divide, which means no TLC, Beyonce, or Ashanti, to name just three.
EJS

20 The Byrds
Sweetheart of the Rodeo (1968)

At one inspired stroke, Sweetheart vanquished the cultural divide between acid-munching, peace-preaching long hairs and beer-swilling, flag-waving good old boys by creating the enduring hybrid of country-rock. Allying rippling guitars and silky vocal harmonies with a mix of country tradition ('I Am a Pilgrim') and Gram Parsons originals, the record irrevocably altered the perspective of two previously averse streams of Americana. The group even cut their hair to play the Grand Ole Opry.

Without this ... no Hotel California, no Willie Nelson, no Shania Twain.
NS

21 The Spice Girls
Spice (1996)

The music business has been cynically creating and marketing acts since the days of the wax cylinder, but on nothing like the scale of the Spice phenomenon, which was applied to crisps, soft drinks, you name it. Musically, the Spice's Motown-lite was unoriginal, but 'Girl Power', despite being a male invention, touched a nerve and defined a generation of tweenies who took it to heart.

Without this ... five-year-olds would not have become a prime target for pop marketeers. Most of all, there'd be no Posh'n'Becks.
NS

22 Kate Bush
The Hounds of Love (1985)

On Side One our Kate strikes a deal with God, throws her shoes in a lake and poses as a little boy riding a rain machine. Turn over, and she's drowning, exorcising demons and dancing an Irish jig. All this to a soundscape that employs the shiniest synthesised studio toys the Eighties had to offer in the service of one women's unique yet utterly English musical genius. Listen again to the delirious cacophany of 'Running Up That Hill', and it sounds like God struck that deal.

Without this ... Tori Amos would have spawned no earthquakes, Alison Goldfrapp would lack her juiciest cherries and romance would have withered on the vine.
JB

23 Augustus Pablo
King Tubby Meets Rockers Uptown (1976)

Jamaica's invention of dub - a stripped-down, echo-laden instrumental remix of a vocal track - was spawned principally on the B-sides of local reggae hits and in the island's competing sound-systems, with technician-engineer King Tubby as its master creator, a man who could 'play' the mixing console. This collection of ethereal melodies by melodica maestro Augustus Pablo distilled the art into album form. It would be years before the West caught up.

Without this ... no DJ remixes, no house, no rave.
NS

24 Youssou N'Dour
Immigres (1984)

The charismatic N'Dour, Senegal's top star, changed the West's perception of African musicians, just as he had revolutionised Senegalese music. Nothing sounded like the fusion on Immigres, with its lopsided rhythms, whooping talking drums and discordant horns, topped by N'Dour's supple, powerful vocals. Immigres also redefined the role of West African griot, addressing migration and African identity.

Without this ... N'Dour wouldn't have met Peter Gabriel, there'd have been no African presence at Live 8. In fact, 'world music' would not exist as a section in Western collections.
NS

25 James Brown
Live at the Apollo (1963)

This remains the live album by which all others are measured, and is still the best delineation of the raw power of primal soul music. It propelled James Brown into the mainstream, and paved the way for a string of propulsive hits like 'Papa's Got a Brand New Bag' (1965) and 'Cold Sweat' (1967). The catalyst for many great soul stylists, from Sly Stone to Otis Redding, it also provided an early lesson in dynamics for the young Michael Jackson.

Without this ... great chunks of hip hop - which has sampled Brown more than almost any other - would be missing.
SOH

26 Stevie Wonder
Songs in the Key of Life (1976)

This influenced virtually every modern soul and R&B singer, brimming with timeless classics like 'Isn't She Lovely', 'As' and 'Sir Duke'. The 21-tracker encompassed a vast range of life's issues - emotional, social, spiritual and environmental - all performed with bravado and a lightness of touch. No other R&B artist has sung about the quandaries of human existence with quite the same grace.

Without this ... no Alicia Keys, no John Legend - contemporary R&B would be empty and lifeless.
EJS

27 Jimi Hendrix
Are You Experienced (1967)

Looking and playing like a brother from another planet, Hendrix delivered the most dramatic debut in pop history. Marrying blues and psychedelia, dexterity and feedback trickery, it redefined the guitar's sonic possibilities, while beyond the fretboard pyrotechnics burnt a fierce artistic vision - 'Third Stone From the Sun' made Jimi rock's first (and still best travelled) cosmonaut.

Without this ... countless guitarists and cock-rockers might not have been (Stevie Ray Vaughan, Lenny Kravitz, even Miles Davis owes him), but most of all, without Experienced, there'd be no Jimi experience.
NS

28 Prince and the Revolution
Purple Rain (1984)

Prince had been plugging away with limited success for several years when the man in tiny pants reinvented himself as a purple-clad movie star. Like Michael Jackson, he felt that the way to gain crossover appeal was to run the musical gamut: in this case, from the minimalist funk of his earlier albums to the volume-at-11 rock of Jimi Hendrix. The title track is a monumental, fist-clenching rock ballad that, perversely, whetted our appetites for far worse examples by Christina Aguilera among others.

Without this ... no Janet Jackson, no Peaches, and certainly no Beck.
LH

29 Pink Floyd
The Dark Side of the Moon (1973)

Sounds like it was pretty tough to be in Pink Floyd in the early 1970s. You had all the money you could spend (ker-ching!) but you thought that was vulgar. You didn't get on with your bandmates because they all had superiority complexes. You couldn't enter the recording booth without having an existential crisis. Piper At The Gates of Dawn, their debut with the late Syd Barrett, turned out to be influential in a more positive sense (David Bowie, Blur).

Without this ... there'd be no Thom Yorke solo mumblings, and much less prog rock (if only ...).
LH

30 The Wailers
Catch a Fire (1973)

Alongside The Harder They Come (movie and soundtrack), Catch a Fire changed the perception of reggae from eccentric, lightweight pop to a music of mystery and power. Dressed in a snappy Zippo lighter sleeve, and launched with rock razzmatazz, it delivered a polished, guitar-sweetened version of what Bob Marley, Peter Tosh and Bunny Wailer had made when white audiences weren't listening. By turns militant, mystic and sexy, it helped make Bob Marley the first Third World superstar.

Without this ... no Aswad or Steel Pulse, no native American or Maori or African reggae bands.
NS

31 The Stone Roses
The Stone Roses (1989)

Until the late Eighties, Manchester was thought to be a forbidding, dour place where the ghost of Ian Curtis still clanked about. The Stone Roses' concatenation of sweet West Coast psychedelia and the lairy, loved-up rave culture was as unforeseeable as it was seismic. Ecstasy pulled the sniffy rock kids away from their Smiths records and into clubland; the result was an album whose woozy words and funky drumming sounded as guileless as it did hedonistic.

Without this ... well, a bit of the Roses remains in the DNA of every British guitar band since.
KE

32 Otis Redding
Otis Blue (1965)

Until Stax Records and Otis Redding arrived, the Southern states were a place you had to leave to make it (unless you were a country singer). Recorded weeks after the death of Redding's idol, Sam Cooke, the album cast Otis as Cooke's successor, an embodiment of young black America with white appeal - alongside Cooke's 'A Change is Gonna Come' was the Stones's 'Satisfaction'. With terrific backings from the MGs and the Markeys horns behind Otis's rasping vocals, it defined 'soul'.

Without this ... no Aretha Franklin singing 'Respect', no Al Green, and no Terence Trent D'Arby.
NS

33 Herbie Hancock
Head Hunters (1973)

It definitively wedded jazz to funk and R&B, and did it with such joyful confidence that it launched a whole new, open-minded approach to the music. Equally important was the use of electronic keyboards, then in their infancy, which vastly expanded the range of available textures. Head Hunters kickstarted the stylistic and ethnic fusions that have enlivened jazz for 30 years.

Without this ... suffice to say, almost everything in the jazz-funk idiom can be traced back to this.
DG

34 Black Sabbath
Black Sabbath (1970)

A mere 30 minutes long, this was none the less the album where heavy metal was first forged. Its ponderous tempos, cod-satanic imagery (bassist Geezer Butler was a Roman Catholic and Dennis Wheatley fan), Tony Iommi's sledgehammer guitar riffs and Ozzy Osbourne's shrieking vocals all went on to define the genre and shaped most arena rock of the Seventies and Eighties.

Without this ... no Spinal Tap, no grunge or Kurt Cobain and, of course, no Osbournes.
NS

35 The Ramones
The Ramones (1976)

'Fun disappeared from music in 1974,' claimed singer Joey Ramone. To restore it took he and his three 'brothers' just one album and 16 tracks, all under three minutes. Brevity was the New York punk rockers' first lesson to the world, along with speed, a distorted guitar thrash and a knowing line in faux-dumb lyrics. In an era of 'progressive' rock pomposity and 12-minute tracks, the Ramones' back-to-basics approach was rousing and confrontational.

Without this ... no fun.
NS

36 The Who
My Generation (1965)

Alongside the equally influential Small Faces, The Who were the quintessential British mod group. Long before they recorded the first rock opera, Tommy, they unleashed a stream of singles that articulated all the youthful pent-up frustration of Sixties London before it started to swing. Their 1965 debut album, My Generation, included the defiant and celebratory 'The Kids Are Alright' and the ultimate mod anthem, 'My Generation', with its infamous line, 'I hope I die before I get old.' Angry aggressive art-school pop with attitude to burn.

Without this ... no Paul Weller, no Blur and, God help us, no Ordinary Boys either.
NS

37 Massive AttackBlue Lines (1991)

Obliterators of rap's boundaries, Massive Attack pioneered the cinematic trip hop movement. After graduating from one of Britain's premier sound systems, the Bristol-based Wild Bunch, Andrew 'Mushroom' Vowles and Grant 'Daddy G' Marshall joined forces with graffiti artist 3D. Massive Attack's debut LP spawned the unforgettable 'Unfinished Sympathy' and remains a modern classic.

Without this ... no Roots Manuva, no Dizzee. In fact, there would be no British urban music scene to speak of.
EJS

38 Radiohead
The Bends (1995)

In parallel with Jeff Buckley, Radiohead's Thom Yorke popularised the angst-laden falsetto, a thoughtful opposite to the chest-beating lad-rock personified by Oasis's Liam Gallagher. Sounding girly to a backdrop of churning guitars became a much-copied idea, however, one which eventually coalesced into an entire decade of sound.

Without this ... Coldplay would not exist, nor Keane, nor James Blunt.
KE

39 Michael Jackson
Thriller (1982)

Pure, startling genius from beginning to end, Michael Jackson and producer Quincy Jones seemed hellbent on creating the biggest, most universally appealing pop album ever made. Jones introduced elements of rock into soul and vice versa in such a way that it's now no surprise to hear a pop record that mashes up more marginal genres into a form that will have universal relevance.

Without this ... no megastars such as Justin Timberlake or Madonna, no wide-appeal uber-producers such as Timbaland or Pharrell Williams.
LH

40 Run DMC
Run DMC (1984)

Before them came block-rocking DJ Grandmaster Flash and the Godfather, Afrika Bambaataa, but it was Run DMC who carved the prototype for today's hip hop MCs. Their self-titled debut - the first rap album to go gold - was rough around the edges and catchy as hell. As Rev Run spat, 'Unemployment at a record high/ People coming, people going, people born to die', the way was paved for conscious and political rap.

Without this ... no Public Enemy, Roots and Nas.
EJS

41 Chic
Chic (1977)

The Chic Organisation revolutionised disco music in the late Seventies, reclaiming it from the naff Bee Gees and ensuring the pre-eminence of slickly produced party music in the charts for the next three decades. Its main men Nile Rodgers and Bernard Edwards patented a sound on their 1977 debut that was influential on bands from Duran Duran to Orange Juice. They also created a hit-making formula that mixed dance beats with monster hooks.
Without this ... no Destiny's Child.
LH

42 The Smiths
The Smiths (1984)

Yearning, melodic, jangly, and very northern, The Smiths' first album was quite unlike anything that had gone before. It helped that Morrissey was a one-off and that Johnny Marr had taken all the best riffs from Sixties pop, punk and disco and melded them into his own unique style. But there was something magical about their sound that endless successors have tried to replicate.

Without this ... there'd be no Belle and Sebastian, no Suede, no Oasis, and no Libertines - at the very least.
LH

43 Primal Scream
Screamadelica (1991)

Thanks to producer Andrew Weatherall and some debauched raving, this former fey indie outfit enthusiastically took on dance music's heady rushes. It was a conversion bordering on the Damascene, but one being mirrored in halls of residence, cars, clubs and bedsits all around the nation. Screamadelica brought hedonism crashing into the mainstream.

Without this ... no lad culture - it was no accident that a mag founded in 1994 shared its name with Screamadelica's defining single, 'Loaded'.
KE

44 Talking Heads
Fear of Music (1979)

There's something refreshingly jolly about the modern-life paranoia expressed by chief Talking Head David Byrne on this album that moany old Radiohead could learn from. Opening track 'I Zimbra' splices funk with afrobeat, paving the way for Byrne and Eno's mould-breaking My Life in the Bush of Ghosts album a few years later.

Without this ... Paul Simon's Graceland might never have been made.
LH

45 Fairport Convention
Liege and Lief (1969)

The birth of English folk-rock. Considered an act of heresy by folk purists, this electrified album fragmented the band. No matter, the opening cry of 'Come all you roving minstrels' proved galvanic.

Without this ... no Celtic revivalists like the Pogues and Waterboys or descendants like the Levellers.
NS

46 The Human League
Dare (1981)

Until Dare, synthesisers meant solemnity. Phil Oakey's reinvention of the group as chirpy popsters, complete with two flailing, girl-next-door vocalists, feminised electronica.

Without this ... and Oakey's lop-sided haircut, squads of new romantics and synth-pop acts would have been lost.
NS

47 Nirvana
Nevermind (1991)

You might argue Nirvana's landmark album changed nothing whatsoever. All their best seditious instincts came to nothing, after all. And yet Nevermind still rocks mightily, capturing a moment when the vituperative US underground imposed its agenda on the staid mainstream. Without this ... no Seattle scene, no Britpop, no Pete Doherty.
KE

48 The Strokes
Is This It? (2001)

Five good-looking young men hauled the jangling sound of Television and the Velvet Underground into the new millennium, reinvigorating rock's obsession with having a good time.

Without this ... a fine brood of heirs would not have been spawned: among them, Franz Ferdinand and the Libertines.
KE

49 De La Soul
3 Feet High and Rising (1989)

Ten years after hip hop's arrival, its original joie de vivre had been subsumed by macho braggadocio. Three Feet High made hip hop playful again, with light rhythms, unusual sound samples and its talk of the D.A.I.S.Y. age ('Da Inner Sound Y'all') earning the trio a 'hippy' label.

Without this ... thoughtful hip hop acts like the Jungle Brothers and PM Dawn wouldn't have arrived.
NS

50 LFO
Frequencies (1991)

Acid house was sniffed at as a fad until it started producing 'proper' albums. Frequencies was its first masterpiece. Updating the pristine blueprint of Kraftwerk with house, acid, ambient and hip hop, it made dance music legitimate to album-buyers.

Without this ... no success for Orbital, Underworld, Leftfield, Chemical Brothers or Aphex Twin.
KE

I'd feel bad about reposting, but dear old Guardian STILL hasn't paid me for the two articles I did for them three years ago.

I was pleasantly surprised to see the following reposted on China Daily's website. A privileged young college student had her eyes opened by befriened an old woman collecting trash, and documented it in her blog.

Girl reflecting in the 'city wreckage'
(tianya club)
Updated: 2006-07-25 15:50

It is the summer vacation now. Today, I went down to the train station to see my classmate off. The place was busy and filled with thousands of strangers who miraculously came together in this place only to be dispersed all over the country later on.

After seeing my friend off, I and my camera-carrying friend wandered around. "Little sister ..." said a timid-sounding voice. I turned my head around and I saw an old lady eyeing the beverage container in my hand. I saw her backpack and the bag in her hand and I understood.

The gap between the haves and have-nots is gawping and growing, although many of the latter are clinging pretty tenuously to the edge.  It is refreshing to see an account of a well-off girl realizing the humanity of the underclass. Because society treats these trash collectors like trash. As the girl says in her conclusion, Shanghai's glittering supposed modernity is a farce and a sham as long as people live in such medieval conditions at the base of these (ugly, shoddily constructed) skyscrapers.

I just watched, and am doing a story about, a documentary called "Nostalgia" about the lane where the filmmaker grew up. It will either be razed or Xintiandi-ized. He asks, "Do people really worship highrises and neon?" and "I don't believe so."  I'm glad to see Chinese are starting to recognize and be brave enough to point out the emperor's nudity.

Yeah, Shanghai boys get a bad rap. "Gay", "wussies", "henpecked"...I've heard so many bad things said. But I love Shanghainese men: considerate, obliging, and as egalitarian as you'll get in China. They're generally fairly pretty, too.  I'll take them over a hunky but sexist northerner any day.

(Granted, the Shanghai boy I dated for six years was neither considerate nor obliging, and while not sexist he would complain about my housekeeping - even though I was the one with a job. The other Shanghainese boy I dated, for six months, was the perfect stereotype, and would come over and start cleaning my house, then make me dinner, and then go down on me for hours...And I dumped him because he was a boring conversationalist.)

It's putting up with the general bitchy, manipulative, screechiness of stereotypical Shanghainese women, I think, that gives the men the bad reputation. Although the carrying of the girlfriends'/wive's purses is pretty silly.

Shanghai men: Henpecked or just polite?
(China Daily)
Updated: 2006-07-24 09:14

Not that the city's women are particularly masculine or coarse, it is just that their men have an age-old reputation for being, well, a little on the soft side.

The "little men of Shanghai" have been derided for years in folk tales, novels, theatre and, more recently, in films, television dramas and, most mercilessly on the Internet. Invariably, they are depicted as henpecked husbands who willingly subject themselves to a life of servitude at the beck and call of their wives.

Now, Shanghai men are fighting back. No, they are not seeking to overthrow the rule of the wives. They are, instead, trying to teach their fellow countrymen a thing or two about family harmony. The message: Men should listen to their wives.

Hauling two plastic bags full of fresh vegetables and meat from a neighbourhood market, Shao Zhenhua, a 30-something marketing manager for the Shanghai Film Centre, which runs a downtown multiplex, says he "loves" cooking and washing at home. Doing the housework is part of his "family tradition," the young executive said proudly.

Historical reasons

Of course, doing the chores is also very much symbolic, said Lan Huaien, a prolific writer and public commentator on social issues and gender studies in Shanghai. "It is a way for Shanghai men to show how much they love and cherish their wives," she said. That, she added, is what sets Shanghai men apart from those in the rest of the country.

Lan and other scholars trace the origin of the "little Shanghai men" to the late 19th and early 20th century, when exposure to foreign influence brought dramatic changes to the social and economic fabric of Shanghai while the rest of China remained in the clutches of feudalism. These changes in Shanghai fuelled rapid growth in the service sector, which, in turn, created a strong demand for women workers.

As a result, Shanghai women joined the workforce and gained financial independence long before women in other parts of China. In those early years of development, there were more jobs available in Shanghai for women than for men. In many Shanghai families, the women were the breadwinners.

In one of her books, Lan wrote that women are usually better-suited for jobs in the traditional service industry. The woman's role in the family changed because it was often easier for them to find jobs than the men; a phenomenon that seems to hold true even today.

Ask Paul Pan, a 27-year-old junior executive at a foreign owned company. "My wife is a successful advertising company executive," he said. "She has no time for cooking and other household chores," he added. So, Pan is the one in the family doing all those duties. Besides, "my wife is a terrible cook," he said.

Showline Chang, a psychologist with a PhD from a US university, said Shanghai men learn to show more respect and care for their spouses by observing their parents when they are growing up. To the average Shanghai man, "it is never a matter of right or wrong," she said. "It is just the right thing to do."

Pan said he used to feel rather embarrassed when colleagues from outside Shanghai made fun of his "deference" to his wife. "They think I am a wimp," Pan said. Slamming his fist on the table in a coffee house, Pan declared: "I am not a wimp. I am just not boorish like the rest of them."

A widely read commentary, "Oh! Shanghai Men," published in several newspapers in Shanghai in 1990, further strengthened the stereotype. The article was written by Lung Yintai, who made a name for herself on the Chinese mainland as a strong critic of the Taiwan authority.

Zhang Yu, a renowned local pianist who divides her time between Shanghai and Paris, sighed that "'hen-pecked-ness' is actually politeness to the female."

She believes that in Western countries doing chores has never been equal to being henpecked. "Partly because of the colonial history, Shanghai men have learnt the courtesy of Western gentlemen and show more respect to women."

She jokingly added that men from other parts of China are only rude about Shanghai men because they are jealous of their fortune in having Shanghai women whom they consider to be arguably the "best" women in China as their wives.

Different decisions

James Dai is a Chinese Canadian who emigrated to Toronto, Canada, five years ago. He has returned to China and is now a senior architect with a renowned property developer in Shanghai.

"As far as my knowledge goes, at least 60 per cent of the decision to buy a house is made by the woman in the family."

Dai admitted that he sometimes asks for advice from his wife for his designs. After all, he said, women are the decision makers.

This is a view interior designer Yu Kuai confirms.

Yu, senior designer for the Shanghai Modern Architecture & Design Company, said that at least 70 per cent of the time it is the women in a family who have the final say on how to decorate a new apartment.

"Women are very concrete in their thoughts. They will directly tell you which colour they like, however, their husband will analyze the wife's favourite, and explain it to the designer. Sometimes the husband will offer two similar colours for designers' consideration," he said.

The only things a husband will get to decide on, said Yu, are the electric wires and pipes.

"Women definitely have a dominant impact on the design of the bathroom, for the colour and pattern of the ceramic tiles and the brand of toilet, but the husband will ask how the pipes are laid," Yu said.

Yu concludes that the most frequently asked questions by husbands are "price, the material for floors and electricity safety."

When it comes to the traditionally male topic of cars, the situation is a bit different.

Chen Yixuan, a marketing executive for Shanghai VW Corp, said the final decision on which car to buy will only be made after a thorough discussion between husband and wife.

"Usually, the main priority for both husbands and wives is price. But after that, wives care more about colour, appearance and comfort while husbands are more concerned with horsepower, functions and interior gadgets."

In the VW range, Chen said, women generally prefer the compact Polo, while men go for the larger Passat.

Singaporean co-founder and Web designer of wow-her.com, Lydia Yan, now lives in Shanghai.

Singaporean men are also sometimes branded with the "henpecked" label, she said, something they have learned to shrug off.

"Shanghai men are more savvy, polite and well-mannered than Singaporean men, generally speaking. Shanghai men have their own appeal just as Singaporean men do," she added with a smile.

According to Yan, "hen-pecked-ness" or eagerness to please a woman, is all part of the attraction of Shanghai men.

"For some women, that is the most charming part of a man," she said.

Han Lei, a Shanghai local government official who is engaged by the stereotype, was eager to defend himself.

"The misunderstanding of Shanghai men comes from narrow-minded people. We Shanghai men not only know the importance of supporting the family financially, but we also know the importance of emotional support and always show consideration to our wives."

A viewpoint academic Lan agrees with: "Shanghai men like to show they care for their wives and families. However, they can be embarrassed to admit it because they think they will be ridiculed if they do," she said.

Rumour has it that Lung once admitted her "Shanghai Men" piece was supposed to praise rather than ridicule the thoughtfulness of men in the city.

Unfortunately, instead of helping rehabilitate the reputation of Shanghai's men, the misunderstanding of her compliments as sarcastic mockery added to the weight of prejudice against them.

But Internet impresario Lydia Yan believes times are changing and while Shanghai men may appear in thrall of their wives, they are no wimps when it comes to sorting out their differences with other males.

"Shanghai men have a kind of street-smartness," she said. "They know how to deal with disrespect from so-called real men from elsewhere in China."

Okay, so there's this new English-language podcast about the Shanghai music scene.  It's a good idea, anything that gets people's tracks out there more helps. It's not going to make any significant difference to the scene, because what's needed is more local media and industry support, not more laowai at concerts. But still, I'm all for it.

Mostly. Okay, the humor is sophmoric and grating, so it's kind of annoying to listen to the commentary between tracks, and it doesn't help that these guys are incredibly impressed with themselves. "We're the best, aren't we!" they ask each interviewee. Whatever, it's their show. However, instead of interviewing the bands, they interview random people who claim to be experts because they once a few drinks at a bar with a band.  So: they interview this guy about my ex-boyfriend Jifu's band. This guy is a total alcoholic loser, has been here a decade and has a successful business but is still a bit sketchy. He's not a bad person, I have nothing against him, just very expaty, and the sort you'll see drooling on the bar at Malones.  And, yes, the band boys think so too, because when we used to bump into him, they would totally slag him off after he left.

Well, this guy gets on air, claims to have been Jifu's band's manager, proceedes to give lots of wildly incorrect information about their history, and pats his own ass and takes credit for their success. Claims he saved them from poverty by getting them out of a shitty cover gig and into a great gig instead. So I go check with Jifu, who's chatting with me on MSN way too much for comfort these days: yup, they let him arrange a few concerts for them six years ago, but he just hooked them up with another crappy, demeaning cover gig even worse than the one they had previously. (Probably the all-time worst of the many bad jobs they've had: I know, I was there.)  Only their "manager" in the sense that they allowed him to represent them to the shitty bar.  By that standard, they've had lots of "managers," of which only their official ex-manager has done more for them than me. But I respect them to much to ever claim a title I never had, or any credit for their (sadly, quite minor - they deserve to be the biggest group in China) success.

So, I write in (sorry for the blanks, attempting to keep this semi-anonymous):

Comment by [Vixen] | 07/23/06 at 3:19 pm

[The guy] got his information wrong. [Jifu's Band] never had any other singers, it was [Jifu] since they started in summer 1998. Previously, singer [Jifu] and guitarist W3 were in another group called ____ which was formed in 1996, and DID feature “another guy”, Teddy, as a singer, and also included YT and XW, who left in 1997 for Hangzhou where they launched [Another Awesome Band]. [Jifu's Band] was formed when [Jifu] and W3 joined with CS and started writing original material.

All along, they’ve kept instant noodles on the table by doing some rather demeaning cover gigs at bars, which slapped them with scantily clad female singers to bring in the drooling laowais. The “other guy who sometimes sings with them” is [Another Awesome Band's] front man YT who sometimes hops up and jams with them for fun at the end of smaller gigs.

The band is still being paid crap, and doesn’t make a living as a band. They all have day jobs now. It’s incredible that someone like [The Guy], a casual acquaintance of the band who doesn’t even know that much about them, can go around claiming he’s their manager. The stuff you can get away with saying in English in Shanghai! It’s like the 101 guys I’ve met who claim they designed the Jinmao.

---

Comment by [PodCaster] | 07/24/06 at 12:27 am

[Vixen] - wow, an informing, yet vindictive post…it’s so *not* like you.

Did [The Guy] say he was managing them now, or did he say he “managed them”? Listen again (helps our numbers).

Yes - you know bands, yes, [The Guy] might have gotten a few ten-year-old facts wrong, but then again, so did you.

Such a shame that your in-depth knowledge has once again been foreshadowed by your attempt at slagging off more foreigners…but it’s okay - we’ve grown to love your “last-chance prose”.

Now - fuck back off to saying that Shanghaiist ruined Tanghui, ha ha.

Sad.

---

Comment by [Vixen] | 07/24/06 at 4:34 pm

Ah, yes, the maturity and professionalism that give blogs and podcasts their deserved reputation for journalistic excellence. So amusing.

I actually give you props for doing a fairly good job here. Interview relevant people, ask good questions, check your facts, and refrain from over personalizing things, and it has a lot potential. Interview random people, distribute wrong information, get lost in personal echo chambers, you waste that potential. Hopefully, for your own and your sources and your listeners’ sake, you’ll opt for the former. We’ll see.

Be it Shanghai or New York or London, its sad to see a nice chill hang-out place suddenly overrun with rowdies, tourists and fotbs, be they foreigners or waidiren or Shanghainese. But, whatever, there are always cool new pads for the old crowds to move on to.

---

Comment by  [PodCaster] | 07/25/06 at 2:50 pm

We might have left some people in the dark here…

For those that want to see/hear how sad our Little [Vixen] is please read this. 

Now, again - please fuck off. I will gladly continue to listen to your deperate cries anywhere else, but we’re trying to make this somewhat about music. We don’t want you listening, nor do we want you here.

---

 
Comment by [Vixen] | 07/25/06 at 8:26 pm

Thanks, I appreciate the free publicity.

If you want accurate information on [Jifu's Band], you should interview their actual ex-manager, FL. He had or still has a show on Shanghai Music TV, and I last heard was working for Warner or one of those, so is encyclopedic on mainstream as well as indie music in China. Or XN, a musical groundbreaker in her own right in Beijing, with [Jifu's Band's] former record label New Bees. Or YT, of [Another Awesome Band], one of [Jifu's Band's] closest friends and, of course, also an important figure on the scene. They all speak excellent English, and I’d be happy to give you their contact numbers.

As for the shooing, you’ve set yourself up as a public forum, not a private project closed to anyone who may correct or criticize you. And, when any public authority - be they the New York Times or some guys with a blog - reports inaccurately on subjects I care and know about, I will continue to write in and point out their errors.

Until next time, cheers and good luck.

---

Comment by  [PodCaster]  | 07/26/06 at 12:05 pm

Again - we don’t want you here, [Vixen]. Yes, there is nothing we can do about it (except for deleting your posts, which takes effort), so just know that you’re here, after we asked you nicely not to be - which makes you even sadder than we originally thought. Had you started off everything nicely, and not taken a dig at someone who was nice enough to come into the studio, then it would have been nice and great and we would have used those “contact” numbers you say you have - but you had to be the spiteful and ragged old [Vixen] that we all know you for, and we just don’t care about what you have to offer anymore.

Go back to your mind-numbing blog, please - and correcting the New York Times. You kid yourself now that “critics are important to art” but in the end, you’re sadly exposed.

Such a shame.

It's funny how much they like repeating my name. It's so junvenile. I'm a bit shocked that they'd be so obnoxious on their own site - it makes them look really bad. I know they're just jealous - I've been here a long time, accomplished a lot, and know the local music scene inside out. While they're interviewing random rambling expats, I'm hanging out with the bands who are old friends, hearing their latest tracks, trading quips and recalling old anecdotes. Plus I get paid excellent money to write about these things for very respected international publications. They have a blog.

It's just unfortunate that some people will continue taking them as an authoritative source. I'll grant that they go to more shows than I do, and know more about the newer "punk" groups than I do. But much of the time they're completely talking out of their asses. 

I'm not anti-Laowai.  I AM a Laowai. I'm just against the Laowai who come and make arrogant, self-important, ignorant assholes of themselves. Aka the Shabi Laowais. Not all fotb (fresh of the boat) laowais are Shabis - you don't have to come knowing a lot of Chinese or about China, just have the humility to realize that this is a huge, complicated, fucked up but wonderful country and culture, and respect it.  Learn the language as fast as you can, and realize that you can't be a China expert until you do. But speaking Chinese does not a China expert make.  I have taken several fotbs under my wing as mentorees over the years, and I chose the ones I do because they share my love and awe for China. That's the only reason a foreigner should be here.

There are lots of people who have been here a decade or more and remain completely clueless about China, yet think they know everything. I have been here eight years, and I know a little bit, but I have shitloads more to learn. My Guoyu sounds fluent, but really isn't that good, and my reading is pretty bad. I'm still working on it, and look forward to improving.

It must be really boring to come to China already (supposedly) knowing everything. The challenge of finding out - and there is so infinitely much to be found out! - is where the thrill is. That's why I love my job, and love my life here.

A crush comes before an interest, and before a crush comes a "Hmm."

At the moment I have two Hmms a-buzzing.

When I was in Miami in May for the advertising awards, the selection of boinkables was pretty limited, apart from the cute Cuban poolboys, but I'm not that desperate yet.  But, trust the Vixen to hone in on the only hot Asian man in attendence. Cute Korean was attending as translator for the Korean delegation, was then living in Miami learning English (que tipa de persona fue ir al Miami aprender Ingles?!), but had studied in Beijing and spoke Mandarin. We talked for a long time, and afterwards he followed me around the party rather cutely pupplylike.

He was hitting on me enough that I knew had the option of a hook-up if I wanted one, but not so much that I was put on the spot and would have had to shoot him down if I didn't. I opted not: making out/sleeping with people I've just met is not that interesting.

Anyhow, Cute Korean just emailed that he's back in Beijing finishing his degree, and would like to come down to Shanghai soon. So, there's potential there.  The pluses: he's hot (albeit in a macho handsome way, not the boyish cute I prefer), he's multi-lingual, and he's interested. The minuses: he's Korean (ie uptight, likely conservative and macho), he chain smokes (ew), he wears polo shirts, and he's a 32-year-old grad student who I guess has never worked, which seems a little odd. Well, we'll see. Hmm.

Last month when I was in Beijing, I was wandering around near the Lama Temple playing with my new baby, the Canon EOS30D, and passed two touristy young Americans. "Sweet camera!" one of them remarked. "Is that the 20D?"

"No, it's the new 30D," I answered. Normally I shy away from tourists, I scare them and they scare me, but I make an exception for camera geeks, so was drawn into a conversation about equipment. The camera geek was very energetic and exuberant; his companion quiet and bored looking. They were Americans, from San Francisco, on an around-the-world excursion.  He asked what I did, and I told him I was a journalist.

"A photojournalist?" Hee. Far from it, rather a hack who saved up to buy a ludicrously expensive camera, but color me flattered. I set him right, and he asked for my contact, realizing that a China expert is a good find for a tourist. Why not? Besides, he was kind of cute for a white boy, olive complexion dark curls, not my type but hey.

The Exuberant American emailed me a few times, most recently exclaiming that he had seen me on the cover of "Totally Shanghai". 

Two days ago, I was coming home from the gym, all sweaty and in my ratty workout clothing, I spot a cute-ish laowai out of the corner of my eye. I look nonchalantly away, as it's rude to gawk at the monkeys. But then spreads his arms wide and bounds up to me - it's the Exuberan American. I pop out my MP3 earphones as he enthuses, "Here we were trying to find out what's going on in Shanghai, and it turns out YOU'RE what's going on in Shanghai! I didn't know you were FAMOUS!"

"Um. Er. It's my house that's famous, really."

He enthuses on, about me, my house, Shanghai, etc. His quiet, pink friend looks bored and annoyed.  I am a bit overwhelmed by how physically large they both are, and by Exuberant American's loud, energetic exuberant Americanness, which rather dismays my cautious Asian sensibilities. I look around nervously at all the people staring at us, and worry his dramatic arm gestures will break something. It doesn't help that I have this stuck in first gear head cold that makes everything seem completely surreal, like a film with the soundtrack off by two beats.  Exuberant American explains that they are staying at a friend's flat, literally a block and a half from me, so likely we'll encounter again.

"Anyhow, great seeing you! You look great, really great!" Huh? Sweaty, ratty, greasy haired? Completely not. "Bye!"

I continue on my way, amused and a little exhausted by the encounter. Hmm. I suppose I should try 洋肉 (white meat) at some point before finding a Nice Chinese Boy to settle down with, but admit I find the idea a bit off-putting. But it's good to reasses one types, right? White or Korean would both be a major departure for me; frankly, anyone not Shanghainese would be.

Anyhow, I think my best way of meeting people is completely randomly. Net, speed-dating, etc is all too focused for me. Random befits my persona and lifestyle, and appeals to my sense of whimsy. Repeat random street encounters, an American and Korean flirting in Chinese in Miami, all fairly Vixen style. I expect I shall someday meet the love of my life in an airport, or, better yet, a train station.

Latest installment from The Reason I Live Abroad. Oh, dear, the idea of her with a gun! Luckily she'll likely never get around to getting it.

Hi [Vixen],

Can't believe I'm up this late (6 am). I have been working hard the
last few days to try to sort out what is here, what is not. YOU WOULD
NOT BELIEVE WHAT WAS DONE HERE. It's like whole boxes were
turned upside down, messed all around, and then dumped back here
in no order at all.  It could be that I have lost two years of time, plus
valuable lecture material. This is not easy to have to deal with. My
right leg is still in  great pain (no broken bones!) and so I see a primary
care doctor at the beach clinic (where you went) and then will get a
referrel for a nerve doctor.  I also will have a complete physical,
and then go back the following day for a pap smear. With the changes
to the bus route this is easy to get to, and MOM is right on the way!

On Friday of next week (3rd appointment of the week) I see the den-
tist, and I hate to say it, but it has been two full years (this is not
me--the real me, nor is all this chaos where I live. I wake up feeling
overwhelmed, but then I get myself going and I'm OK.

How was your vacation and how long was it? Would love to hear
about it.

[Vixen], I cannot read your website. Do you have a new address? Is
my Mac lacking something. 

I hope by the end of the week I can have the email working like it
used to (using domain names and starting to build a REAL web site.

I am going to get some kind of protection dog here (Alex said earlier
that it was alright), and I'm going to get a gun and some gun training.
Many have urged me to do this. If it IS J. (who else wants to make
sure that I never succeed?  Who else hates me?)  I AM PRAYING THE
THEIF/INTRUDER/STALKER/BURGLAR WILL BE CAUGHT. If it is not
J/J but someone else, I'll be ready to use my gun.  If it IS them/him
then I will use the gun to make him stay there until the police come.

The police are very concerned for my safety and welfare (so am I). [Their professionalism in waiting until later to laugh at her impresses me. Chinese police would not be so kind.]

They have asked me to come by the cop station (very near) so that
more of them can meet me. [Because those who've yet to meet her don't believe how crazy she is, and think the beat cops must be making it up. So the latter want their colleagues to meet her for amusement value, and just to show she's really that bad. Like why I post these emails.] I'm still putting together a list of what
has been taken and when.

Must close. The alarm man comes at 10, so this means 4 hours of
sleep (he usually runs late). I have not felt free to leave the condo
due to these breakins (3 smaller ones after the huge four over that
one weekend where SO MUCH WAS TAKEN.

[Vixen], I want to use the pool.  I want to be out in the sun. Get a little
tan.  Look pretty again. To be able to focus on positive things
rather than tending to scary and crazy things, and all the confusion,
and all the time it takes to get new cards, new check books, etc.

All for now,  Mom

PS. with my present email hassles, I do not have access to any of
your earlier emails since 3 mos. ago, and that means I do not
have any emergency people to call (your friends). Can you send
them to be again?

Thank you. PLEASE WRITE WHEN YOU CAN.

A couple of funny things from the net recently, all cribbed from Angry Asian Man, one of my favorite blogs.

First is a exchange from the fabulous Overheard in New York site:
Old white woman: Are you Japanese?
Young Asian Guy: I'm American.
Old white woman: But is your family Japanese?
Young Asian guy: I'm American.
Old white woman: But are you of Japanese descent?
Young Asian guy: I'm American.
Old white woman: Like from 1776?
Young Asian guy: Yes.

Ah, the variations I've had upon that conversation:

Malaysian-Indian guy at Bornean net cafe: Where are you from?
Vixen: Shanghai.
Malaysian-Indian, jabbing finger disturbingly close to my eyes: But your face, it doesn't look Chinese.
Vixen: I'm not Chinese.
Malaysian-Indian: Then how can you be from Shanghai?
Vixen, amused to be hearing this from an Indian guy in Malaysia: Bye now!

Shanghai Taxi Driver: Where are you from?
Vixen: Xujiahui.
Taxi Driver: No, which country?
Vixen: America.
Taxi Driver: But where are your grandparents from?
Vixen: America.
Taxi Driver: But...their grandparents?
Vixen: America.
Taxi Driver: But originally?
Vixen: Europe.
Taxi Driver: Which country?
Vixen: Dunno, many.
Taxi Driver: Which?
Vixen: Don't really know. England, Germany, Italy, Scandinavia maybe...
Taxi Driver: Oh, so you're English!
Vixen: ...

Penang Canto-Ayi in restaurant: So your father's English?
Vixen: No, American.
Canto-Ayi: So your mother's English, and your father's Chinese?
Vixen: No, both my parents are American.
Canto-Ayi: So is it your mother or your father that's Chinese?
Vixen: Neither. I'm a white American.
Canto-Ayi, looking greatly disappointed by me: So you're not part Chinese?
Vixen: No.
Canto-Ayi: Then how can you speak Chinese so well?
Vixen: Because I live in China.
Canto-Ayi: Are you sure you're not half Chinese?
Vixen: ...

Another fun posting is about an ABC who's risen to fame on the reality show "Pants off dance off." I like this Howard Wong chap, and love his quote, “I think I told my dad I was doing the show, but my parents don’t really watch cable or anything. I don’t think I can shock them anymore. I try to get their attention, and I think they’re just bored at this point.” Heh. Healthy attitude.

Then there's the hilarious NoScruff advertisement. As some one who finds male body hair a real turnoff, and facial hair simply stupid looking, I say Yay. Watch the short film, it's pretty cute.

I returned from Malaysia yesterday, and am unpacking. Okay, I already unpacked, as in the sense of "dump entire contents of backpack on floor, throwing into piles of bathroom (to wash), bedroom (to hang up), study (to use) and foyer (to put away). Despite traveling light, I managed to cram a lot of crap into my grungy/trusty backpack. Here's the loot. (Will repost with photos soon.)

The best of the batch is an old style Chinese signboard from elderly Cantonese artisan Kok Ah Wah in Penang.  Mr. Kok (oh how Cantonese names force me to resist the obvious, tasteless jokes; temptation all the worse when the subject is a sweet little Canto-Grandpa) is probably the last person in the world still making these. Too bad, it's a beautiful art, and I was fortunate to be able to place an order for my house, Hui Long Hui. Also got three nice batiks.

Blue retro glass vase, from a little Chinese shop in Penang. From Royal Selangor (where I will register if I ever do anything weddingish), an art nouveau picture frame and a hip flask. It's a challenge to not max out the credit card there, the stuff is so very nice, and with prices to match.

Souvenir mug from the wonderful Islamic Arts Museum, and a set of tea cups from another little Chinese shop in Penang.

A pair of gold and bronze strappy sandals, from Penang's main mall.  (Silver Lining is the background blur.)

Two sparkly tunic tops, will serve me well for next trip to whichever Muslim-Land I go to next, and a flowy wear-over thing.  Also three cool t-shirts.

And a bunch of Indian bangles.

I also bought a LOT of books, yay the press freedom we lack in China, and mostly at the wonderful Kinokuniya store. Acquisitions are:

"A Short History of Malaysia" by Virginia Matheson Hooker. Picking up "Indonesian Destinies" during that trip definitely doubled its value, and so I was on the lookout for a good Malaysia overview as well. This appeared the best of the offerings.  Need to finish the massive Indonesian book first - it's my gym treadmill fodder and despite an hour a day at it for the past six months I'm only now approaching completion. This one is significantly less furniture-sized.

"Journeys Through Southeast Asia" and "Ceritalah: Malaysia in Transition" by Karim Raslan. I picked up, read and liked the former in Kota Kinabalu, so grabbed its prequel later along the road. Decently written and with an interesting perspective.

"The Crystal Spirit: A study of George Orwell," by George Woodcock. I always enjoy literary biography. Graham Greene's "Monsignor Quixote". I only recently discovered Greene, due to my Substitute Mother's pushing "Quiet American" on me, and have been slowly devouring his works since, when I can get them. "Antic Hay" is an early novel of Aldous Huxley's, and an interesting skewering of artistic pretention.

Berlitz pocket guides to Malaysia and Hong Kong. Two for one sale! I have great disdain for guidebooks, having written for several and observed the crap standards of both my own employers and others for the facts in Shanghai. But they're still fun to read.

"Eyewitness Companions' Photography" by Tom Ang. I need a good photo book; actually, need lots of them, but this can start the collection.

Peter Hopkirk's "The Great Game" and "Foreign Devils on the Silk Road". Classics I should have read long ago, but am very excited to final acquire them after my Xinjiang trip in May. I am now completely obsessed with Central Asia. Along with East Asia, Southeast Asia, South Asia, the Middle East, Africa, and Latin and South America. Europe and North America are growing on me, too. In a similar vein, at the Islamic Arts Museum I got the coffee table book of their current show, "Abrbandi: Ikats of Central Asia." Art, fashion and regional history all rolled into one, how could I resist?

"Foreign Babes in Beijing," by Rachel DeWoskin. I expect it will be painful to read, not because it's bad, but because it's similar to my experience with Jifu. Only...I've lived in Shanghai much longer, and my heart-breaking Chinese guy relationship was very long and very serious.

"Marrying Buddha" by Wei Hui. Also painful, but because it's bad. A skim suggests that her writing has improved somewhat, but that makes it merely mediocre, not hilariously bad like "Shanghai Baby". Well, it's a must-read, if only in order to bash it properly.

Oh dear. Now KFC is the latest to "dishonor" Chinese history with a dumb ad. How hyper-sensitive can people be? Chinese history/culture/etc have survived far worse than being joked about in advertisements.