1976, Sense of Direction, 2000
1976, Sense of Direction, 2000
ranking: #52 on 1993-2005 list
Indie rock band 1976 has long been called the sound of the new generation, a band for the future. So why is it then that they sound like the past? 1976 burst on the scene at the turn of the millennium as Taiwan’s answer to The Smiths, The Cure, and New Order — that is, the sound of Anglo-American rock circa 1986-1995. They may be named after the year the members were born, but they may as well be signaling their inclination toward looking backward. It’s tempting to blame this paradox on the old culture-lag standby: that places like Taiwan need a few years before they get the cool sounds of the world’s music capitals. Or maybe 1976 is in fact ahead of the game, being retro for the New Wave before The Strokes’ mini revolution.
As we look backward to look forward (or vice versa?) it’s natural to be a little disoriented. Curiously, 1976′s breakthrough record is entitled Sense of Direction (方向感), and though the album doesn’t in fact send us along a straight, consistent path, it reveals a confidence about the musical future — a sense of direction, without a map or a plan.
Indeed 1976′s foray into rock history is itself eclectic and multi-directional. “Taipei Voyage” (台北遊記) betrays a band that learned English pronunciation from Damon Albarn and rhythm guitar from Graham Coxon; the song is Modern Life is Rubbish melding into 13 in eight minutes. The aptly titled “Revolve Backward” (倒轉聲音時間) and “Carry No Baggage” (忘掉依賴去旅行) feature Lou Reed-type speech over guitar chirps and electronic moans, while “The Flashing Shaking Bulb” (雨棚下的燈泡) rocks Reed’s teetering declamations to the point of dizziness. “Party” is a dead-ringer for Radiohead’s “Creep,” and “Black Coffee” (不加糖) fantasizes about Seattle from a Taipei coffee shop.
There’s something juvenile about 1976′s nerdy enthusiasm, but on the album’s best tracks, we find that it’s that youthful naivete which really inspires these recent college grads. The summery “Easy Way” (單純復雜) has a dark underbelly that’s more Pet Sounds than “Fun Fun Fun.” The song conjures a breezy beach past sunset, where angsty teens scream “now! later! never! forever!” into the unknown. That same sense of unease and temporal dislocation pervades the album’s moody title track, which offers snapshots of moments in a relationship (a missing key, foam floating in a cup of coffee) and then multiplies them into double images in care of a chorus of overlapping lyrics and voices.
If 1976 hasn’t quite found its way yet, at least it knows to look where you’d least expect to find it. The album’s Cure-like opening track “Message from My Shadow” (影子) summarizes the sense of (in)direction best. “To run after you I must change direction / I must hide I must let go of idealism.” “If I could not chase anything / wouldn’t I be happier. / At the count of three I turn off the lights / and just go.” Musically of course, 1976 is chasing plenty. But it’s not what it’s chasing that matters, it’s that it’s constantly in a state of looking elsewhere. After Sense of Direction, 1976 continued its search, though the obsessive reliance on 1990s britpop on an album like Asteroid (2008) shows a band no longer restless and more intent on resting comfortably as the future of Taiwanese rock.
[Note: I used the English titles provided on the album packaging, instead of directly translating from the Chinese titles.]
