Angels, sunsets, and a rollercoaster of emotions in Taiwan

In my six months of traveling, and after watching four seasons of Atlanta on FX, I’ve begun to feel more and more that life isn’t real, or at least parts of it. Music has helped me tremendously with homesickness I have felt—exposing myself to local artists has helped immerse myself in  Singapore and Taiwan. I was bummed when I heard one of my favorite bands was going on a world tour just as I was arriving in their home country. However when Taiwan opened up for normal travel, I knew it was only a matter of time before Sunset Rollercoaster would make an unofficial pit stop here before heading to Australia to complete their tour. The Taipei Music Center quickly became filled with black bucket hats, platform Converses, and 5,500 home fans eagerly waiting to hear Taiwan’s best band play at home once again. It was only until they started playing the first song that the reality of it all started to sink in. I am in Taiwan. I am seeing Sunset Rollercoaster…IN TAIWAN.

Full of saxes and synths, the jazz influenced “indie quintet” was accompanied by three angel-wing-clad backup singers sitting on stationary bikes, as well as a full string quartet. The sound of a variety of different instruments blending beautifully will never get old. It almost makes you indifferent about the lyrics, or about the existence of them at all. 

That’s actually the case here. What’s unique about Sunset Rollercoaster is they sing primarily in English, which helps them gain more international exposure, but creates a small barrier at home. Their approach to songwriting in a second language makes for colorful and playful lyrics, which extends to titles as well, such as in the folk and blues inspired song Little Monkey Rides on the Little Donkey, or 我是一隻魚 (I’m a Fish), one of their songs sung in Chinese. Long guitar and saxophone solos injected each track with even more emotion and theatrics. Adorning visuals of solar eclipses, music video-esque live feeds, and endless paths of white pillars tied the whole experience together. Perhaps the most amusing visual was for their biggest hit, My Jinji, which featured a spinning lollipop covered in ants, with what looked like pearls (珍珠 “zhēn zhū”, if you ever want to order boba in Taiwan) spewing out of it as the song transitioned into a four minute jam over a single guitar riff. Short comedic segments and jokes between various songs also made the experience more interactive, as the band talked about their adventures traveling the world, long bus rides, and what it was like being back home. It also served as proof there is still some room for improvement when it comes to my Chinese abilities.

 

Sunset Rollercoaster is essentially a synth-pop indie experiment, laced with jazz fusion, soul, and yacht rock influences. While it is difficult to put them into any one genre, it’s not difficult to make connections with every main genre to exist. You can often tell when a musician is an absolute nerd about their craft, and is a student of those who came before them. 

In a musical representation of floating in water, their song Jellyfish, which features indie artist Michael Seyer in the original recording, sounds like a toned down, bedroom pop of J Dilla’s Time: The Donut of the Heart. Why is this important? I don’t know, I just love it. In the case of their other songs, it’s hard not to think of something like Georgy Porgy by Toto when listening to songs like Summum Bonum or Angel Disco Love.

Lead singer and guitarist Kuo-Hung Tseng’s solos are also reminiscent of guitarists like Lee Ritenour, which is no coincidence, as you can find his name in the notes of many Japanese fusion records from the 1980s, many of which also featured smooth saxophones and lush keys. These sounds, along with Mandopop and Cantopop, were much more accessible in Taiwanese markets before digitalization.

Not far off from fusion, Japanese city pop shares special, nostalgic quality that Sunset Rollercoaster’s music also evokes. The 80s city pop scene in Japan was full of influence from Western and Brazilian music, but was reflective of a tech boom and increased pace of Japanese urban life. Sunset Rollercoaster does the same thing, taking its influences and sonically molding them into a new sound, reflective of a uniquely Taiwanese experience during an artistic, romantic, and film boom that started in the 1980s. It sheds light on the idea we are all connected as global citizens, and even though we may be from one small part of the world, music is proof we can relate to something deeply human. 

One aspect of the concert that cannot be left out is the sheer talent and musicianship of the band. Kuo-Hung Tseng plays the guitar like he is both a jazz legend and an absolute rock star. Multi-instrumentalist Hao-Ting Huang and his saxophone encapsulate the idea that the instrument is simply an extension of one’s mind and body. The rhythm section nonchalantly holds it down, with popping base, cool keys, and with drummer Tsun-Lung Lo also adding backup vocals on nearly every track. Strings make everything better, and the backup singers actually take the lead on a few songs.

In a market dominated by K-pop, music from Japan, and Western music, Sunset Rollercoaster stands out in being at the top of the game in terms of representation for Taiwan, breaking all molds and genres, while pushing the narrative of sound. Many artists tend to create an aesthetic on stage, some want to be more mysterious, some like to be sex symbols, others might want to get the crowd as involved as possible. It is clear that Sunset Rollercoaster just likes to have fun.

謝謝大家

Photos and Article by Miles Bishop