July 2010 Archives

In terms of island nations, Japan and Mauritius make quite a contrasting pair. The latter, a tiny landmass located off the southeast coast of Africa, is known primarily for being the only home of the now-extinct dodo. Japan, of course, needs no introduction: the country has stood near the pinnacle of technology, entertainment, and pop culture for decades.

For rising musician CJ Li, however, the two islands both represent critical aspects of her budding musical career, and essential components to the organic development of her style and tastes. Together they help frame her past and pave the way for what is sure to be a thrilling future.

As CJ Li navigates the unpredictable realm of instant celebrity and the ailing record industry, in Japan and elsewhere, her journey will undoubtedly reflect upon the growing interconnectedness of a world increasingly united through the Internet and music. Indeed, CJ's popularity on the YouTube - where millions have watched and subscribed to her video performances- pays testament to her considerable appeal, which crosses oceans and islands alike.

Her website, which boasts a wealth of pictures, blog posts, and song snippets, is just one component of her burgeoning online network, which should expand even more upon her arrival in Japan. Meanwhile, Li's present has been entrenched in Vancouver for several years now, with her having garnered an undergraduate degree from UBC as well as a Jazz Vocal major from Capilano University. Still, despite her undeniable Canadian identity, she was born and raised for much of her life in Mauritius. As such, her experiences there did play a role in forming the musician she is today.

"Subconsciously, I'm sure living in Mauritius and hearing Sega (Mauritian music) all day had an effect on me," she replies, after I fired a barrage of interview questions to her. I suggested to CJ that having a diverse background like hers is an important part of developing a unique and rich musical style for any artist, but she was quick to note that being simply exposed mainstream is fine as well.

I don't know if its "important" to listen to other styles of music.

Still, she admits that she definitely benefited from having an open mind and exposure from a variety of genres. "Staying open to other genres and giving other styles a listen can only give you other ideas you otherwise might not have thought of."

Apart from instilling a sense of worldliness, growing up in Mauritius also meant CJ became fluent in French, as well as the local dialect of Creole. With her rapidly improving familiarity with Japanese, CJ Li has mastered nearly four languages, and has already made use of her linguistic skills by writing several Japanese songs, adding a unique flair to her typical English repertoire. Her new album, Music in my Soul, includes a Japanese version of the title track.

I once tried writing a French song and it sounded really strange.

"Right now I'm really passionate about learning Japanese language and listening to J-pop, so writing those kinds of tunes and mimicking that style comes easily. Even though I speak French better than Japanese, I find Japanese songs much easier to write!"

J-Pop, which swept the world a few years ago and is still a strong force in the global music industry, seems to be a genre that CJ Li could really run with. More so, she seems to be quite well equipped with her background to deal with the challenges that come with relocating to a foreign market: "Maybe one day I'll come out with a full Japanese album," CJ muses. "That'd be pretty awesome. We'll see."

When I asked CJ what she felt about the trend of Canadian and American-born Asian artists moving back and finding success in Asia, such as the rapper Jin and the Chinese singer Justin Lo, she responded with an astute observation.

Just because someone goes back to Asia, it doesn't guarantee that they'll receive the same amount of support that others have had.

CJ Li and her band recently released their second album, Music In My Soul, in June of 2010. Regarding the album, CJ had this to say: "I think there's a little bit of music in everyone which is why it's so captivating. This album was made while I was attending music school, so I was able to better express myself musically this time around."

CJ's boisterous and bold approach to the album seemingly busts through the seams of the song titles. Tracks such as "Fall But We Flourish," "Powertrippin In Your Underwear," and "Pizza In Your Belly" are some of the more innovative names to her band's poppy melodies.

But while many artists use unusual song titles to draw attention to otherwise banal songs, CJ's album from top to bottom seems to be wholly genuine and up front, not trying to be anything but itself.

It's important to CJ that her band mates get their due credit for the album's work; while CJ's instantly recognizable vocals and impassioned singing stand out in each track, the contributions from drummer Mili Hong and bassist Patrick Lee make their presence felt as well.

"Mili Hong and Patrick Lee are two of my best friends and we were actually friends in Music School before we became band members. We're really in tune with each others lives and as a result, they understand how my style and life translates into my music.

The only con of having a tight-knit band is that we know what freaks each other out, so a lot of practical jokes happen between us!

Given CJ's imminent relocation to Japan, of course, her band will likely have to go their separate ways. A band breaking up isn't an anomaly by any stretch, but given the close relationships of CJ and her band, it might have seemed to be a dilemma. Yet CJ and her mates have dealt with it in stride, abounding with optimism and mutual respect.

"We realize that lots of bands break up," says CJ, "but since all of our dreams are music-related, our band could never "break up". We support each others' goals and promised to help bring each other to the top. Now we're just betting on who can do it first. Gotta work harder so I can win!"

With that kind of attitude, CJ Li is sure to win over fans from islands the world over.

Shad is dominating. The Kenya born, London Ontario raised, Rwandan Canadian rapper is on a high. He is currently in the middle of a Canadian summer tour and the new album, TSOL, has been short listed for the 2010 Polaris Music Prize. I wrote a post about the man and his new album just before his show at the Biltmore in June (which was amazing).

Each track feels like a conversation; like you're waxing poetic with a friend and confidant as he tells you what's on his mind. He's the kind of dude you genuinely want to have a conversation with, and he puts on a good show to boot.

Lucky for me, I recently had a chance to catch up with him, and pick his brain about his upbringing, his music, and his life in general. Check out what he had to say below!

You've lived in a lot of places, and may be associated with a number of identities. When people ask you where you are from, what do you tell them? How do your surroundings and self perception shape your work?

Well, I tell people I grew up in London, Ontario and that my family is originally from Rwanda. That feels pretty accurate to me. I live in Vancouver now but I still have ties there to some great friends and great people in London. My sister and a lot of my friends live in Toronto and I find myself there fairly often so I definitely feel at home there too, and my parents and little brother live in Rwanda now so I feel comfortable when I'm there as well. It's hard for me to comment on how all that affects my music; it's the only life I know so I'm sure it affects how I see things and express them but it's hard for me analyze exactly how if that makes sense.
 
Well, I tell people I grew up in London, Ontario and that my family is originally from Rwanda. That feels pretty accurate to me.

You seem to have a huge level of respect for your elders, and your peers, both musically and in life. Could you speak on that?

I think that history has always just interested me. Musical history, stories of different people and places... I think I'm just kind of fascinated by all the differences and parallels and lessons that can be extracted from looking at the past.

 
What's one of the most valuable lessons that your parents have taught you? Were they always supportive of your rap related ambitions?

My parents were never big worriers. I think that's a big thing they tried to pass on to us: To trust God, care for others, do your best, and then not to sweat it from there... you can't control the future so might as well relax and enjoy life... They were very cool with whatever I wanted to do career-wise. They're happy I found something I like and find meaning in.
 
You can't control the future so might as well relax and enjoy life.

How would you describe your music to someone who has never heard it before? What drew you this this particular form of self expression?

 I would say it's pretty much traditional sort of hip hop with a bit of my own spin on it. I try to inject my personality and experiences into it to make it something personal and unique to me.
 
When I picked up the new album at HMV the other day, I noticed that it said "alternative/conscious" in brackets beside your name in the rap section. Labels like these have followed you around your entire career. What do they mean to you?

 I'm not that bothered when people label me, but as someone that cares about hip hop, I just think those prefixes can be divisive and restrictive for the culture sometimes. So I'm not a huge fan of them.

What was the point of reference or framework that went into making the new album? Is there a story or concept behind it?

It's not as conceptual as the last one for sure. My approach to this one was more just about making songs that I felt were compelling on a couple different levels. I felt like I had this opportunity to make another album and I was just happy about that and wanted to work hard to make something fun and meaningful out of that opportunity.
 
My approach to this one was more just about making songs that I felt were compelling on a couple different levels.

Your show at the Biltmore was incredible. What goes through your mind when you not only sell out the venue, but the audience knows the words to every song? Why do you think people relate so deeply with your subject matter?

Well it makes the show a lot easier for one thing! It's also just a great feeling. It gives me that much more energy and makes me put that much more life into the songs when I perform them. It's a lot of fun and sometimes it's a real high... As for why people relate to what I'm doing, I can't really say. I try to consider my audience when I write and talk to them in a way that's honest and engaging. Beyond that, who knows? There's a lot of variables I don't control when it comes to how people relate to my music.
 
I try to consider my audience when I write and talk to them in a way that's honest and engaging.

Your music seems to draw influences from every aspect of your life, interests, and opinions. What are you reading, watching, or listening to at the moment?

I've been watching a show called Eli Stone lately. The premise is definitely hokey but I feel it!
 
After the summer tour is through, what's next on the agenda?

Back to Van to relax a bit in August then hit the road again in the fall - opening a tour for K'naan in Canada and for K-OS in the states. 

I always take great pleasure in telling people that I am from Manitoba &mdash an answer that usually seems unexpected, despite being completely banal. I often add, "Where all the real Canadians are from," as if I were an American from the Midwest attempting to cash in on some folksy ideal of the heartland promulgated by the likes of Garrison Keillor.

Fortunately, we have no such mythology in this country about a singular Canadian identity, but have always embraced a plurality of experiences. Constantly seeking to define ourselves through the diversity of our culture and heritage seems to be the quintessential Canadian pastime.


Shooting gophers with a .22 caliber rifle.

I was born in Gladstone, a small town with a population of less than 1,000 that attempted, quite laughably, to re-brand itself in the 1970s as 'Happy Rock' in order to attract tourists. I stayed there only 5 years, but that brief period had a significant and lasting effect on my attachment to the Prairies. Living at the edge of town next to the Yellowhead Highway, I would watch the trucks drive by, ferrying loads of grain and livestock against a backdrop of expansive wheat fields.


I couldn't have asked for a more idyllic childhood: playing in wooded streams, swimming in dugouts, tearing around my friend's farm in his father's pickup when we were barely old enough to see over the steering wheel, and shooting gophers with a .22 caliber rifle. A friend of mine often tells me she feels comforted when surrounded by tall buildings. I feel most at home standing in the middle of a flax field in late summer under a clear blue sky.

After I finished kindergarten, my family moved to Brandon, which was only an hour away from our previous home. My father was tired of being a country doctor and sought a lighter workload. Despite being 40 times the population of Gladstone, Brandon, Manitoba is hardly a city. While I would consider it my hometown, I've never really felt a strong connection to it. Neither of my parents are from there, and neither of them had any particular deep ties to the community.

Although my father is a second-generation Canadian, both of my parents come from families of immigrants many times over. The Mennonite side of my family has been kicked out of more countries in Eastern and Western Europe than I have space to list, and my mother's family emigrated from Southern China to Taiwan a number of generations ago, and from who knows where before that. I spent a great deal of my childhood visiting relatives in faraway places. I remember long and frequent car trips, trains, planes, and Christmases spent in airports, waiting for connecting flights in Vancouver or Hong Kong. All that traveling left me with a strong distaste for air travel and long distance driving. Many of my summers, especially during elementary school, were spent in Taipei, which is where my mother is from - a city that couldn't be more different than a small town on the Prairies. The skyscrapers, the smog, but mostly the drenching humidity were a stark contrast to dry heat and clean air of the Prairies where the tallest building for miles was usually a grain elevator.

My uncles and aunts would take me around their bustling neighborhoods to the crowded markets, or to buy pot stickers and fried meat buns from busy street vendors. I still firmly believe that the best food you can find anywhere is usually the food sold on the street. When not summering in Taiwan, I would often find myself in Mennonite country in Southern Manitoba. Faspa, an afternoon luncheon of homemade buns, jams and cold cuts was mandatory anytime we stopped by to visit a relative. The best foods, like vereneki, kielke noodles, and rhubarb platz were usually reserved for communal meals; and rollkuchen (deep-fried dough twists) and watermelons were a must for church picnics.

The dumplings in my lunch box were the dead giveaway.



I had the strange experience of often feeling like an outsider amongst my own family. Both my mother and father grew up speaking already obscure dialects of languages I have only a marginal familiarity with. My Mandarin Chinese is, or at least used to be, passable. Unfortunately, the Taiwanese side of my family speaks Hakka. The only words I recognize are the insults my grandmother used to, and still does, hurl at me when I was cause trouble. My knowledge of Plattdüütsch, or Low German, is even more limited. There's nothing like spending an afternoon sitting around listening to your relatives converse in a language you have absolutely no understanding of. It's an incredibly frustrating and boring experience, especially for a young child, which may explain why I now have very little patience for enduring both people and conversations that don't interest me.



Insults exchanged in the halls to the occasional fights on the playground.

For the entirety of my school years, from kindergarten through to the 12th grade, I was the only Asian in my class. A fact which probably would have gone unnoticed, considering most people think I'm Jewish. The dumplings in my lunch box were the dead giveaway. Although, I did endure a certain amount of ribbing for my unusual lunches, I probably got made fun of more for the meat loaf sandwiches. My mother, in an effort to become more Westernized, had taken to making things out of Canadian Living and cookbooks clearly from a number of decades earlier. The one actual Jewish kid managed to go unnoticed in the lunch room, because his corned beef sandwiches, always on rye, were close enough to baloney on Wonder Bread thus avoiding too much attention.



Got made fun of more for my meat loaf sandwiches.

My educational experience perfectly illustrated the post-colonial, bilingual nation that we are. To say that I attended a French immersion school wouldn't be entirely accurate. My school was divided between the middle- and upper-middle-class French immersion kids, "Us"; and the English kids from largely Aboriginal, inner-city, low-income families, "Them". None of the French immersion students were from the neighborhood surrounding the school. The tensions that existed between the more privileged French kids and the English kids whom we displaced manifested themselves on a regular basis. From the insults exchanged in the halls to the occasional fights on the playground, for the most part, we did not mix. This is not something I ever gave too much thought to as a child, but is obviously something that has stayed with me. It is also something I now see again on a daily basis, living close to the Downtown Eastside.



After finishing high school in 1997, I was drawn to the West Coast, partly to attend university, but also partly due to my attachment to the mountains and lush forests I associate with visiting my paternal grandparents in BC. After a brief interlude living in Montreal from 2000-2005 for more school, and an even shorter stint in Toronto, I returned to Vancouver in 2007, but this time more out of nostalgia for the foods I enjoyed so much as a child in Taiwan. Good Chinese restaurants in Montreal are few and far between.

Food was often the only way to connect with my family.

My fixation on the cuisine of my respective heritages isn't purely coincidental. Not only do tastes and smells have the strongest connections to our emotional memories but food was often the only way to connect with my family when direct communication was limited by language barriers. Food is a great medium to experience another culture. I love taking people around the city and introducing them to things they've never tried before, whether it be at an out of the way bubble tea café in Richmond, or a little known Szechuan restaurant in Burnaby.

Now that my parents have also moved to the West Coast and my family and friends are spread across the globe, my connection to Manitoba remains tenuous at best. I have now lived in Vancouver, cumulatively, longer than anywhere else I've lived in my adult life. I may not be from here, but Vancouver is definitely home. I just need to find a place that serves authentic farmer sausage.

To be honest, I can't remember the first time someone questioned my Canadian-born butt. Why? Because it's happened SO MANY TIMES! I no longer respond with a blank stare but with something that usually goes like this:

But where are you really from?

Huh? Oh, my parents are from Korea.

Oh, so you're from Korea. I thought you were *insert Asian nationality*

No, actually I'm from Canada.

Sometimes the person will even attempt to say hello in Korean, comment on my perfect English or tell me their best friend's brothers' girlfriend's aunt's doctor is Korean. But that's a whole different story.

My Vancouver roots were so unbelievable.

Yep, both my parents are from Korea, but I was born and raised in Canada—Vancouver to be exact. Vancouver is the city often referred to as Hongcouver, but my identity rarely sparks curiosity here.

It's usually when I am in the presence of non‐Vancouverites that my Canadian‐ness comes into debate. This is no surprise. Everyday people are bombarded with images of what a Canadian person looks like and it usually looks less like Sandra Oh (or the Asian girl on Degrassi: the Next Generation) and more like the token Canadian guy on NBC's 30 Rock. Even when I think of Canadians in the media, I think of entertainers like Michael J. Fox, Pamela Anderson, Celine Dion, Rachel McAdams, and Hayden Christensen. Yes, people who look nothing like me. If instructed to circle the object that doesn't belong to the group, I'd be circled, removed and then probably placed in a group with Jet Li and Yuna Kim. Once someone thought my Vancouver roots were so unbelievable that, to them, I must've been half-Caucasian.

He waved his hand over and said my face looked Asian.

The fact that I don't fit the stereotypical mold was best brought into light when I encountered a European last year in Prague. We exchanged the typical "where are you from"and when I said Canada, he waved his hand over his face and said my face looked Asian. This action may sound offensive but the look of genuine confusion on his face was priceless and I knew his comment wasn't made out of ignorance but pure curiosity. The guy knew nothing about Canada and was basically referencing the media as his Canadian encyclopedia. I'm almost 99.9% sure he had no idea who Sandra Oh was.

My Canadian-ness is still questioned everyday.

My Canadian‐ness is still questioned every day, but I have noticed that I'm getting questioned less and less everyday...or perhaps people simply assume that I'm from some Asian country. I'd like to think it's the former rather than the latter. Next time someone asks me where I'm from, I'm going to say "my mother's womb".

No one can debate that.

They're not Harajuku girls. But they sure have style. And they know how to make music that puts The Beach Boys "Good Vibrations" to shame. They have soul. They have that cute girl-next-door charm. And they are kind of a bad ass. What more could you want from an all girl super group that calls Tokyo their home?

A while back when I first came across The Suzan, I was so intrigued by not only their unique sound but by the girls themselves. From their colourful faces, to their wild fashion taste, there is just something about The Suzan!

This Japanese riot girl band is formed by sisters Rie (keyboards and guitar) and Saori (vocals and guitar), along with friends Nico (drums) and Ikue (bass). At the beginning in 2003 it was just the sisters making tracks in their home. They didn't have plans to do any gigs like other bands, but soon enough they got a record deal with a Japanese label. So they gathered up their friends Nico and Ikue, and started to call themselves The Suzan (the sisters' nickname since they were kids).

Not surprisingly The Suzan have played with several notable bands such as Peter Bjorn & John and The Go! Team. This September the girls will be releasing their much anticipated record "Golden Week For The Poco Poco Beat" with Fool's Gold Records. Produced by Bjorn Yttling from Peter Bjorn & John, the album is bound to make you get up and clap your hands and dance around wildly!

I recently had a chance to get to know the girls better. Here are the highlights from that interview.

Can you tell us a little bit about your musical influences growing up and now?
When we were young, we used to listen to classic music mainly. Now we enjoy all kinds of music, such as rock, pop, dance, hip-hop.

You have a new album coming out soon. What was it like working with musical mastermind Bjorn Yttling?
It was really fun for us to work with Bjorn and really exciting. We learned a lot from his style, like choosing the right sound and reorganizing compositions. We have lots in common with Bjorn when it comes to making music, therefore working with him was such a smooth experience, even though we only had about 2 weeks.

We were able to share our ideas back and forth with him. We all really enjoyed making songs with Bjorn. He has this genuine ability as a producer to really develop your ideas further.

What was the greatest challenge you all faced while working on this record?
Skills for playing the instruments. I think we are all good at creating songs and performing on stage, but we still need to work on playing all the instruments well.

You all have a really unique and fun sense of style. As of late, artists and fashion seem to go hand in hand. Would you say your style is a direct reference to your music?
Yes. Very much.

For us The Suzan is both fashion and music. We find that fashion and music are very important means of expression. So both affect each other. And we are always looking for original and individual styles on both fields.

The Suzan makes it home in Tokyo, but your music is certainly making a splash here in North America. What's it like knowing that your music is being heard across the world?
Rie: I think it's great and also very interesting to imagine the situation where people who didn't know of us before are listening to our music now. Also I would love to hear their reactions or feedback after listening to our record.

Nico: It's very exciting because we've been longing for this moment. We have been ready to step out into this world for 5 years now! I'm itching to fly out to all over the world.

Saori: I am proud of this record and sure that everyone willl love it. Hopefully we will have more chances to play in different places in the world than before, which would be very delightful.I would love to see you all come out to see our exciting shows.

Ikue: I'm so thrilled that people living in places that we've never been to are listening to our music. And I can 't wait to meet those fans!

Are there any plans to tour North America/Canada?
Not yet. But maybe around the time when the album is released. Hopefully, at the end of August or in the fall.