David Tao 就是爱你 concert

I played a part in David Tao's success. The dominos effect. The firestarter. That is I.
I was the first few who started listening to David Tao's first album, I was the first few who bothered to download his mp3 files and share them with friends. I was the first few to notice the fun with all the vocal gymnastics.

How ungrateful David is, now that he's a superstar embraced by millions in Asia. It was I who started appreciating his work, spreading his work to friends, who in turn tell other friends about him. 飞机场的10：30，流沙，沙滩，是是非非，十七岁，望春风，心乱飞. Those songs defined David Tao and it changed the Chinese music scene. The R&B shit in chinese music that we are all so sick of it now.

David Tao is no longer a novelty. And he is packaged like any other Taiwanese singers nowadays. Gone are the days of this unknown fucker with a blue CD cover, never show the face properly shit. When his fans start to include unsophisticated people unlike myself, I know it's over. This singer/composer's career will forever be contaminated by lousy people with lousy mainstream tastes. People who continue to think 爱很简单 is his best song.

Well, 爱很简单 is indeed a great song and I thoroughly enjoyed it when he sang it without doing too many tricks at his concert. It was a very decent concert with a great bunch of musicians and I particularly enjoyed the segments with the 二胡 which made the music arrangement more authentic and pleasant.



The backdrop was quite something I must admit. A little over the top and a little too imaginative. Stupid set designers.





It was great hearing songs like Dear God, 蝴蝶, Runaway, 二十二. David Tao has the capacity to do concerts, he has enough voice quality, singing technique and good musical numbers as well. There were no dance sequences like all concerts nowadays.



Of course, a rock concert is the one that gets everyone going. Mayday, Power Station. People stand and scream, participate. Damien and Howie will tell you why. My ideal concert is the old school Hongkong concerts with larger-than-life personas running the show. 许冠杰，梅滟芳，张国荣，张学友 and maybe even 张惠妹. Dance and real quality singing. I like being the good, attentive and appreciative audience. I was reluctant to stand up for anything that David Tao told us to but it will be so uncool and so loser to carry on sitting down.

Maybe I've grown older but I'm not too impress with all the vocal gymnastics, all those high pitching anymore or playing too much with a single note in singing. Keep it simple, keep it tight, add soul and heart to it. That's real singing.

Truly Asia Part 2: KL

As the curtains slowly come down, we found ourselves back at Golden mile Complex. Pulling our luggages out sluggishly out from the trunks, nobody spoke a word and were all evidently tired. The place was swarmed by aggressive taxi drivers reminiscent of those aggressive hawkers at Newton Circus. We were mobbed by taxi drivers left, right, center and I treated them to my million dollar stare. And my 'fuck off' face. The girls suggested supper at Simpang Bedok but after much consideration, L and I left the scene rather abruptly and so that was it.



The trip ended there and then. It's a time when you know you're supposed to feel something but you don't know how exactly you should be feeling. And sometimes you use fatigue as an excuse to mask how you really feel. But after a good night's sleep, it should be all over.

Many hours before, as L and I sat in the taxi revisting the same old scenes of Kuala Lumpur, gawking at the funny road signs without the same old fervor, Malay road names and the laughter of the girls gradually faded into mute. All was quiet in the taxi, the inevitable traffic jam outside at 6p.m. was like another parallel universe of its own. Some small talk was made here and there.



We woke up at 11 plus that day just to ensure proper checking out procedures, took our last few pictures. Jan and Melia and I in white and denim. Bags packed at the very last minute, deposited at the hotel's concierge. The day went by rather smoothly.



KLCC and the Petronas Twin Towers were less than magnificent. Whether its nationalistic pride that seeped in or whether it was the architecture that didn't particularly impress me, the Towers screamed 'I am Malaysia and I'm here to challenge Singapore'. A particular taxi driver picked up a little conversation with me and i commented about the vast improvements of KL and its city landscape. The Chinese taxi driver laughed and said, "Singaporeans come to Malaysia and talk about how much it has improved, Malaysians go to Singapore like they're visiting the US".









Sounds a little far-fetched but going to Malaysia is different from say, going to Taiwan or the States in my case. Unconsciously or not, you make little comparisons between Malaysia and Singapore, you try to sniff out traces of improvisation of existing Singapore technologies, duplication or even plagiarism. What has an elitist society done to our mindsets.



Something that KL has and Singapore is sorely lacking is these big super shopping malls. Mid Valley Mall which is just less than 10 seconds away from our hotel rooms is the most complete shopping mall I've ever seen. KLCC is as decent as Takashimaya and they have those twin towers to back them up. Competition is fierce and intense. L and I worried a little for Singapore's future with our neighbours breathing down behind our necks so hard such that traces of their dinner could be found behind our necks in the form of rolls of chewed meat.

Our first night at KL was spent preparing for our clubbing outing. KL Zouk. KL do have really decent night spots but then again i'm not someone who's really that enthusiastic about night spots.






It was a lot of thrashing talking, a lot of funny moments and the Hotel Boluevard that we got was really very comfortable. Thanks to Amelia and thanks to Felicia who slashed our first night hotel stay into half. I thought I got to know these people in the group in a more personal level. It was some experience going on a vacation albeit a short one with a group of friends. You guys made it happen.

Some of my more favourite shots with the different individuals.


Fel..


Jan..


Melia..


Mel..

Truly Asia Part 1: Genting

Before any of my recent trips, there have always been a proud history of screw ups. Most of the time, it was physical disorders.

Like the trip to Pattaya, Thailand: I was recovering from haemorroids and i bleed as i shit and sometimes I dun even know whether it's shit or blood. And sometimes, when you confuse the two of them, it gets quite complicated. So the whole trip was kinda dark due to that confusion and it just felt kinda shitty.

Like the US road trip: I'm pretty convinced some insect from Saturn bit me right at the centre of my forehead and therefore installed my third heavenly eye and propelled me to divinity, such that I look very much like a motherfucker in all the pictures I was in.

Kaohsiung was an exception, maybe because it was just 4 days after the end of my US trip, they didn't have enough time to come up with something to fuck me over.

So on 14th November which happens to be the last day of my exams and almost coincidentally, the day I was leaving for genting/KL. I was expecting something to happen really. Like perhaps cancer or the bird flu, chipped tooth or ears getting bitten off. It didn't happen though but I got a phonecall at 2p.m. telling me that my passport has unofficially expired.

Because there's this rule which states that your cannot travel to other countries 6 months prior to the date of expiry of your passport. Huh? Then what is the expiry date for? For fun ah?

So I was left to sweat on the One Trip Pass, wasted 15 bucks and some time. Actually I wasted a lot of time at the Immigration Centre doing all those nonsense.

So there you have it, the people going on to this trip of death.
Luq, Jan, Melia, Fel and Melissa.



I was always worried about Genting, those old stories from Crimewatch of whatever not about those landslides that killed people and the midnight robberies of tourbuses. I started to worry prematurely about the thrill rides even more than the robberies or thr landslides. But then again, those thoughts and fears were quickly dispelled as the heaviest sleeper of the group did it again in the bus ride.

We reached Genting at about 5 a.m. Our hotel rooms weren't ready yet. So we slept randomly from Starbucks to McDonalds.



The theme park was very much on the agenda. So it was just ride after ride. A lot of bonding sessions and a hell lot of pictures taken. I don't want to start the picture commentary shit so here's some of them at a glace.











Surprisingly, our first ride happens to be the most thrilling ride of the entire theme park. Space Shuttle or something like that. Free fall shit. Fel and Mel beside me were scared stiff. And so is a certain someone over at the other end.

Some of the night scenes were pretty too.





Well, I'm a bad photographer I admit. Some issues with the exposure shit which results in shaky picturs. Couldn't help it.

We had 2 rooms. 3 per room. 2girls and 1 guy. Somehow we all had had a pre-agreement who's gonna room together before the trip. So the lineup was me, jan and melia. Fel, luq and Mel.


My room mates at the Flume ride.


Our messy room

It is quite crazy how many pictures we actually took that day but we are all such camera whores. The weather was perfect. Not too cold or hot or too humid. After dinner, like all wannabes, we decide to chill out at Starbucks, sip some coffee and talk cock at night. Foggy and chilly Genting.





We were trying to image we were in the States.

Overall, I was still a little disappointed that I didn't get a chance to step into the casinos and play something. I was the only one above the legal age so there's not much of a point too going in alone. Things were expensive in Genting and all the food we spent on burnt our pockets a little.

I also happen to buy this Cottage Fries Potato Chips by Wise which was excellent, pity Singapore don't sell them anymore. All these snacks were all puffed up like balloons, probably it got something to do with the high altitude we were at.

We slept at 5 a.m. the next morning and woke up just in time to check out, hop on to our van down to KL where shopping awaits us.

For memory's sake, I think I should put up some of the funny pictures I took with Luq at Genting. Highly inspired by Tom Yum Goong.





Quite random huh..

The big leap to University

Few can argue the longest time in one Singaporean male's life is his NS life. 2 years and 2 and a half years, it doesn't make a difference. Counting the days towards freedom, towards ORD, towards the shores of Boon Lay, Kent Ridge or even Town. Towards a land filled with 19-21 year old girls, young and fresh from school all ready to socialize. The myth that nothing is worse than NS life, the oasis at the end of the desert: University life. Saving us from the overdose of honour and glory and physical labour. As the days drew nearer, anticipation has already become numb. ORD will come. It will be done. From Bedok camp as it is in Sembawang camp.

Fast foward 6 months later, my hair has grew about tenfold. Someone probably adjusted the brightness level of my complexion as I look fairer and fairer in the pictures I take. I start to get fatter. I start to digest theories, academic journals that I don't understand faster than my KFC thigh meat. My hair grew long enough for me to pull when I got bored or frustrated. For the first time in my boys schools' glittered history, my school is saturated, or should i say, infested with loads of girls that I can ever imagine. Not that I'm particularly excited but it's a nice change of environment. Most saliently, the money in my wallet seems to vanish faster than anything that vanishes in Harry Potter's movies.

Unlike the NS days when money falls down from the sky into your ATM machines.

The bloody irony is that you spend the most money during your university life when you're supposed to be the poorest. You become more conscious of how you look, you settle down with the identity you associate yourself with, you dig deeper into adult life and found out that it sucks, you eat at the best restaurants or best food in the worst coffee shops, you go travelling in places near and far with friends and then you spend more money.

For people like me, I spend more money than other people and it isn't very necesssary. I usually devour more things than what I'm required of. I usually feel like a few pints when the nights get cold and lonely. I usually feel like a few pints when I start to feel thirsty. So there's where all the money goes. Food and Entertainment.

If only all the money in NS is used like CPF where they help you keep portions of it and gave you a basic pay in NS life, control your spending a little and channel it to your education or rather your non-academc University life.

Or maybe they should start paying NSmen who pursue their studies after their NS life a decent amount of money every year like the ERS. Maybe they can call it the NSS.

Or maybe there should be an in-house shopping center cum entertainment complex in NTU where things go at students' prices and shops hire students to run their businesses and thus pocket money.

The road to freedom comes at a cost, literally.

ABC

It happens in everybody's life. The trauma of waiting for a bus that never comes. The sight of seeing someone board the bus soon after arriving at the bus stop that you've been waiting for over 20 minutes. The fact that every single bus number stated on the bus stop sign has passed the stop except yours.

Maybe its because I've done too many evil deeds recently. The fucking bus just won't come my way.

I was waiting at a random bus stop this afternoon where this group of little children started singing the alphabet song in unison. Its quite brilliant isn't it the alphabet song because that is the first thing you learn in English and it kinda gets stuck in your head for as long as you can remember.

Time and again when I flip through that big fat dictionary, the alphabetical order plays such a big role in my search for the meaning behind the words. And then this ABC jingle comes playing through your mind like an old casette tape, so nostalgic and powerful at that very instance.

Which makes me wonder do all the rich, old, powerful motherfuckers in the world do this jingle in their heads too?
Which makes me wonder who the hell created this ABC jingle that is so brilliant?

I mean you can't find a better melody for all that 26 alphabets.

The ABC song will forever be a classic and a kiddy song. It will be a kiddy song that adults hum to not only teach their children but to sing it softly in their heads when they forget whether 'P' or 'N' comes first. Perhaps the alphabet song serves a reminder to all of us that we are all but little kids deep down.

Little kids sing it aloud.
Adults act like they don't know the song.

But hell they do.
And they do very well.

Tissue and Drink Cans society

There was this one night I felt like shit everytime i walked past random beggars or disabled buskers on the streets from Orchard to Bedok. Telling their sad stories to me like its my moral duty to give them some money. Sometimes i do donate when I'm in good mood but that's probably about all. There's always this particular team that appears in your nearest hawker centre, someone blind accompanied by another middle-aged woman who'll say things like:

'You have a kind soul son, please help the blind.'

There's always another group of people who i call 'vultures'. They are old people who go from table to table asking you whether you've finished your can drink. They will lift ur half-finished can, shake it to check whether there's anything left and place it back without your consent which really just pisses me off. There is an average of about 3 of these people in any major hawker centers and they will continue to keep you occupied throughout your dinner.

Later at night, these people will storm the rubbish bins for more empty thrash cans. A big black thrash bag above their shoulders. God knows how many cans are there inside. There are probably 200 or more of these people in Singapore, holding plastic bags, squashing empty thrash cans and eyeing every single drink that you are holding. Like it's some cardinal sin that we're holding that drink can that belongs rightfully to them.

It brings me to this particular young person who loiters around Bedok area. He just sits down and begs for money. A little pathetic note that he carries say: Very poor. Need to support family and sick mother. Fuck like that's the way he is going to support his family. Begging for money with all four limbs intact.

So there's the blind buskers, the disabled beggars, the abled beggar, the guardian of blind tissue-sellers, the can-collectors. How do all these people fall into our society and how do these people reflect our very own fucked-up lives.

I mean we all know you're fucked but so are we. We self-sympathize but you want the whole world to sympathize with you and to shower pity on you. It reflects on how patheic our society is and the stench of hopelessness coming off from these people.

But in any case, I've learnt to appreciate the old people who collect their fucked drink cans more than people who simply do nothing.

Life thus far

It's been a crazy month of October. It all started with the premiere of Into the Blue at Cineleisure, many pizza hut delivery serviced dinners, a clubbing session, 108 project days and now preparation for examinations.

I've said in some of my previous posts that I've been sleeping at 2,3 am. I'm sleeping over breakfast nowadays. 8a.m. to 1p.m. Sleepless nights in CS, half reading notes, half wandering off. I am very tired.

My tutorial group people are just these bunch of crazy people. Janissa, Arefa, Felicia, Melissa Hoeden, Amelia, L and myself. Maybe it's because the last 4 names mentioned are all respective only childs of their family. That's why everyone is so enthusiastic about doing things together. Which is great. It was great fun. I've never spoken so much English in my life. But sometimes it's hard catching up. In some sense, the weight of my precarious financial burden is stopping me from doing too many things.

Too many expensive hobbies, too hungry sometimes, spending $7.50 on duck rice tells the whole story. Money is fast seeping out from my bank like the strands of my hair falling off from my head. Maybe it's the long hair but I suspect it's the conditioner I'm using or rather how I use my conditioner. I apply the conditioner all over my hair, pulling parts of my hair out in repeated fashion. I continue the action everywhere I go and as a result, I'm dropping hair fast.

That is an exaggeration. I like my hair now. The slope days are gone, just some rubbish sticking out from the back of my head.

Sleeping late, drinking little water, drinking a lot of beer and eating negligible fruits or vegetables with little or no exercise surely must mean something. That is 10 years of my life subtracted. Smoking will make me a dead man by now.

I won't say it's a perfect university life. I'm faring fairly well in my studies, I dunno about hall but at least I have a terrific room mate and a great buddy that I go home to everyday, I have L, weixin to have guys talk in CS and bitch about people in CS,I have giggles from the girls from my tutorial groups and sneezes from Fel to ensure that life is never boring.

But then again, I'm never an easy person to satisfy. What I need now is to get into a good fight. Bleed from my nose. And sink my fists into someone's neck. Something shocking and unexpected.

This is my 4th overnight stay in school. I'm gonna die young. And without hair.