Chapter 133: The Musical Fraudster
Cheng Xiaoyu returned home after dinner with Su Yuxi and Xu Qinning. During the meal, Su Yuxi explained the details of the production department’s assessment.
The assessment held by the Shanghe production department was a significant monthly event for the company. A panel consisting of two music directors, the head of the production department, and the head of the planning department would evaluate works submitted by the company’s musicians, as well as compositions purchased from outside artists. They also assessed new artists, though the former was the main event.
This assessment served as a vital opportunity for anyone within the company with ambitions of becoming a star or working behind the scenes. With a recommendation from someone at the management level or above, one could participate in the evaluation.
Cheng Xiaoyu felt there could be no better opportunity than this. Su Yuxi offered to handle the recommendation, leaving Cheng Xiaoyu with only the task of preparing a musical work.
Once home, Cheng Xiaoyu opened the music platform to check his homepage. Two days prior, he had uploaded his latest work, "Niangzi" (My Lady).
As expected, the music platform had featured the new song by "Poison" on its main page and even created a dedicated discussion thread. Cheng Xiaoyu clicked through. While some comments hailed "Niangzi" as incredibly stunning, calling Poison not just a genius but a visionary, the vast majority found the style bizarre and unacceptable.
Cheng Xiaoyu hadn't anticipated such a massive controversy. It wasn't so much a debate as it was a barrage of insults. Had it not been for the five-yuan fee to listen, the reaction might not have been so extreme. Yet, the more people criticized the song, the higher the listen rate climbed, which in turn fueled further criticism.
Most comments on Poison’s page were from casual listeners condemning him for trying to swindle money with such lazy, shoddy work. Some even suggested that Poison had already run out of talent. Only a handful of people with a deeper understanding of music left positive comments, but these were quickly drowned out by the tide of vitriol.
Pinned to the top of the music platform’s homepage was a review by the sharp-tongued critic Hao Yifeng. The title read: "Poison, the One Who Upends the World." Cheng Xiaoyu didn't know Hao Yifeng, nor did he know that Hao had long since dubbed himself Poison’s number one fan on his music radio show.
Cheng Xiaoyu opened the article and read it carefully. It was an exceptionally detailed critique written by a resident critic of the music platform who also worked as a screenwriter for the Yangcheng Music Radio Station. The article provided a meticulous breakdown of this song by Jay Chou.
The opening read: "Do not attempt to understand Poison’s mindset; his ideas originate from God."
"The first time you hear 'Niangzi,' it feels a bit 'strange,' but it becomes more addictive with every listen. The beauty of this song lies not in its skin, but in its bones. It is contradictory, stubborn, and every fiber of its being is a counter-trend. Every time you think it will follow the conventional path, it chooses the opposite!"
"First: Unconventional Harmony."
"For ancient-style lyrics centered on themes of longing, heartbreak, or parting, there is a common harmonic pattern known as the 4-5-6 progression. When paired with a relaxed 4/4 time signature and accented with guzheng or flute, it easily evokes a 'traditional' and 'sentimental' atmosphere. A classic example is the famous soundtrack 'Butterfly Lovers' from *Chinese Paladin*, which follows a 6-5-4-5-6 progression."
"Now, back to 'Niangzi.' Before listening, one might easily guess this would be another 4-5-6 ancient-style track. But the moment the guitar starts, we are stunned. Its chords revolve around an A7-7 cycle—a 6 to 2 progression. We know these are minor seventh chords; compared to major triads, they are grayer, more ambiguous, and harder for the human ear to distinguish. Beyond this cycle, the song features complex progressions and modulations. If Poison wrote these chord arrangements himself, he must have put in significant effort studying harmony. Compared to composers who lazily stick to fixed patterns, he is far more admirable. Fixed patterns may be pleasant at first, but they become tiresome. Using uncommon harmonies makes a work stand up to scrutiny."
"Second: Unconventional Melody and Rhythm."
"The reason melody and rhythm are discussed together is that the melodic line of 'Niangzi' is written in tight synchronization with the rhythm. Its rhythm is filled with a sense of freshness, tension, and contradictory beauty, completely different from the traditional folk-style lyrical songs we praise."
"First, it leaves the first downbeat empty, creating a void that disrupts our habits. If you try to sing along, you'll find yourself lost on where to start each 'Niangzi.' Furthermore, its linguistic phrasing ignores standard Chinese conventions; the emphasis is placed on the trailing beats, while the trailing sounds are placed on the strong beats. For example, it breaks up the word 'Yangliu' (willow), placing 'Yang' on the trailing beat and 'Liu' on the starting downbeat. Then, it uses deliberate interjections to break the sentence's integrity, such as the insertion of 'Are you there,' which leaves the listener with a fragmented, 'lost' feeling. Finally, Poison simplifies the defining characteristic of Chinese—the four tones—by singing almost everything in the fourth tone."
"After all this, what is our impression? Indeed, it matches what many 'adults' said at the time: 'What is this person singing? Is it a foreign language?' This description is quite accurate. This is the state Poison wants to achieve—to break the habitual patterns of the Chinese language. While others write songs that 'follow the words,' prioritizing the lyrics and making the melody flow with the rhythm of the speech, Poison’s 'Niangzi' follows the rhythm. Rhythm comes first; the melody and lyrics must follow the rhythm. Even if it means breaking, deconstructing, or destroying the words, the rhythm must be maintained."
"The rhythm of this song, through the deliberate omission of downbeats and the heavy use of syncopation, creates a sense of being 'unsteady' and 'ungraspable.' Because it is 'unsteady,' it is more gripping; because it is 'ungraspable,' it is more bewitching. This is the charming contradiction of the song."
Cheng Xiaoyu also read the comments beneath the review.
"Is this a paid advertisement? How much did Poison and the music platform pay you?" wrote a user named Lonely Traveler.
"Poison's previous song 'Sunny Day' was good, and 'In the Name of the Father' was passable, but what on earth is this? I don't like it at all," commented Hyacinth.
"What are the lyrics even saying? I can't hear them clearly at all. There’s no sense of melody," wrote a user called Memories of Those Years.
"Charging five yuan for this kind of trash? I'm speechless! Could you please enunciate your words before you try to sing?"
In short, "Niangzi," which seemed very avant-garde at the time, sparked a war of words online. Those who liked it hailed it as a classic, but they were in the minority. Those who disliked it felt it lacked melody entirely, and they were the vast majority.
However, most professional musicians, the ones who truly understood music, remained silent. Most professional critics were concentrated on other major music platforms, and the resident critics on this platform were few. Everyone had their own agenda, and with no professional voices stepping up to support Poison, the five-yuan paywall triggered an avalanche of criticism.
This made Poison famous, but unfortunately, he was also labeled a "musical swindler." Cheng Xiaoyu smiled bitterly at the title, thinking that if he collected enough of these derogatory labels, he might actually be able to summon a dragon.
Cheng Xiaoyu didn't look any further and closed the music platform. Nothing was more persuasive than producing a new musical work, but for now, he still had to decide on the track for his assessment.