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Dubbed the “new godfather of Chinese rock music，” pop rocker and songwriter Wang Feng likes to talk faith using big words. He recently joined the second season of the hit reality show The Voice of China as a mentor. Although many call him “too serious and rational，” not fit for an entertainment program， his down-to- earth working style and professionalism documented in the show shed light on how his success and resilience in China’s barren rock music market happened.
Man and Rock
Wang has been employed in the trade for many years and has amassed an impressive trophy case： 10 Best Album Awards， 17 Hit Songs， 20 Best Male Artist Awards， and 82 other various musical awards.
He was born into an affluent Beijing family in 1971 and began to receive formal music education at a young age. At five years old， he started practicing the violin. His skill progressed smoothly， and he eventually joined the National Ballet of China as a violist. However， in 1996， Wang gave up his classical music career to focus on rock. In his iconic 2009 song “In Spring，”he wrote： “I didn’t have a credit card， no girlfriend， nor even hot water around the clock，” a vivid description of his real life back then.
For Chinese rock， 1996 was not a good year. Many music critics believe that the golden age of the country’s rock music， including the careers of many influential artists such as Cui Jian and Tang Dynasty， peaked by 1994 or even earlier. Around 1996， China’s rock entered a “silent age.”However， it was in 1994 that Wang entered the trade and wrote such powerful songs as “Good Night， Beijing”and “A Little Bird.” “I don’t feel tired， but I have nowhere to go. Emptiness throws me into the street，” he wrote in “A Little Bird.”
His distinctive and unique rocking style has impressed many： fluent melodies， simple but catchy tunes and musical exploration of the human spiritual world are all qualities which cause his work’s popularity. Compared to many rockers considered niche or indie， his albums sell well to the mainstream public and his fan base is broad， including those born in the 1990s， 80s， 70s， and even the elderly.
However， while his “mainstream” rock has been so well accepted， some critics characterize him as a traitor to the genre.“Some people don’t count ballads as rock，”Wang remarks in a serious tone. “Rock can only be furious？ Every era has its own distinct characteristics. Today， music that inspires or encourages people， bringing them hope – I consider real rock.” Much of his work， especially over the last a few years， touches on topics related to living environments and confusion caused by society. He has expressed on many occasions that he tries his best to inject his albums with the spirit of freedom and tolerance – the two most important elements of rock. “His cynicism about vanity and critical altitude towards the world around him is as powerful as any other rocker，” commented renowned music critic and writer Hao Fang.
Today， Wang is more often confronted with questions like “To what extent do you think a materially abundant life has influenced your songs？” or “How can you put yourself in the shoes of the underprivileged since you come from such a wealthy background？” Wang jumps at the chance to answer such questions. “If you can’t write decent songs after you earn some money， you weren’t going to produce too many as a poor man. If you aim only to produce excellent rock music， money shouldn’t even factor into the equation. Money is never the real problem.”
Sell Out？
Since his first album was released in 1997， Wang has maintained a prolific songwriting career. He records a new album every one to two years. For each album， he prepares 50 to 80 songs， and those that don’t make the album are thrown away forever.
He doesn’t bother waiting around for inspiration. He locks himself in the studio for eight months every year to produce songs. During this period， he writes songs for four to five hours every day. He sits on a chair when penning lyrics， and at a keyboard or with guitar when constructing tunes. It took him four years to produce“Faith in the Wind，” the longest he ever spent on a single song. The tune was revised a dozen times to salute to his idol Bob Dylan’s “Blowing in the Wind.” “I adore Dylan and learn from him，” Wang reveals. “I would be more than satisfied to achieve a third of what he has done.”
The song lyrics that came out the quickest only took about two hours. This situation only happened three times： “Good Night， Beijing，” “Flower Fire，” and“In Spring.” Interestingly， when Wang was asked to choose his favorite songs， he also chose those three， and added “Beijing， Beijing.”
Wang insists he is simply a rocker， and believes that “in rock music， critical connotations in lyrics and personal expressions are of great importance.” “I just don’t use any specific criteria when selecting songs for my albums， commercial viability or anything，”Wang insists. But he explains that an album should be balanced. Powerful songs can account for 10 percent to 20 percent， love songs for 10 to 20 percent， and songs that raise social questions and criticize modern realities should also be included. He hopes that everyone can find a favorite tune when listening to his albums.
Wang is tired of repeated questions about his commercialization. “If you think that records that achieve commercial success must suck and that real music doesn’t usually receive commercial success， I’d say your understanding of music is immature and juvenile.”
“What pains musicians is not commerce， but cheap and unfair commerce，” he continues. “If you talk about the spirit of rock every day， you’re definitely missing it. Spirit is not something you can easily talk about. You can write it into a story， turn it into a poem， but chitchatting about it is pointless.”
Man and Rock
Wang has been employed in the trade for many years and has amassed an impressive trophy case： 10 Best Album Awards， 17 Hit Songs， 20 Best Male Artist Awards， and 82 other various musical awards.
He was born into an affluent Beijing family in 1971 and began to receive formal music education at a young age. At five years old， he started practicing the violin. His skill progressed smoothly， and he eventually joined the National Ballet of China as a violist. However， in 1996， Wang gave up his classical music career to focus on rock. In his iconic 2009 song “In Spring，”he wrote： “I didn’t have a credit card， no girlfriend， nor even hot water around the clock，” a vivid description of his real life back then.
For Chinese rock， 1996 was not a good year. Many music critics believe that the golden age of the country’s rock music， including the careers of many influential artists such as Cui Jian and Tang Dynasty， peaked by 1994 or even earlier. Around 1996， China’s rock entered a “silent age.”However， it was in 1994 that Wang entered the trade and wrote such powerful songs as “Good Night， Beijing”and “A Little Bird.” “I don’t feel tired， but I have nowhere to go. Emptiness throws me into the street，” he wrote in “A Little Bird.”
His distinctive and unique rocking style has impressed many： fluent melodies， simple but catchy tunes and musical exploration of the human spiritual world are all qualities which cause his work’s popularity. Compared to many rockers considered niche or indie， his albums sell well to the mainstream public and his fan base is broad， including those born in the 1990s， 80s， 70s， and even the elderly.
However， while his “mainstream” rock has been so well accepted， some critics characterize him as a traitor to the genre.“Some people don’t count ballads as rock，”Wang remarks in a serious tone. “Rock can only be furious？ Every era has its own distinct characteristics. Today， music that inspires or encourages people， bringing them hope – I consider real rock.” Much of his work， especially over the last a few years， touches on topics related to living environments and confusion caused by society. He has expressed on many occasions that he tries his best to inject his albums with the spirit of freedom and tolerance – the two most important elements of rock. “His cynicism about vanity and critical altitude towards the world around him is as powerful as any other rocker，” commented renowned music critic and writer Hao Fang.
Today， Wang is more often confronted with questions like “To what extent do you think a materially abundant life has influenced your songs？” or “How can you put yourself in the shoes of the underprivileged since you come from such a wealthy background？” Wang jumps at the chance to answer such questions. “If you can’t write decent songs after you earn some money， you weren’t going to produce too many as a poor man. If you aim only to produce excellent rock music， money shouldn’t even factor into the equation. Money is never the real problem.”
Sell Out？
Since his first album was released in 1997， Wang has maintained a prolific songwriting career. He records a new album every one to two years. For each album， he prepares 50 to 80 songs， and those that don’t make the album are thrown away forever.
He doesn’t bother waiting around for inspiration. He locks himself in the studio for eight months every year to produce songs. During this period， he writes songs for four to five hours every day. He sits on a chair when penning lyrics， and at a keyboard or with guitar when constructing tunes. It took him four years to produce“Faith in the Wind，” the longest he ever spent on a single song. The tune was revised a dozen times to salute to his idol Bob Dylan’s “Blowing in the Wind.” “I adore Dylan and learn from him，” Wang reveals. “I would be more than satisfied to achieve a third of what he has done.”
The song lyrics that came out the quickest only took about two hours. This situation only happened three times： “Good Night， Beijing，” “Flower Fire，” and“In Spring.” Interestingly， when Wang was asked to choose his favorite songs， he also chose those three， and added “Beijing， Beijing.”
Wang insists he is simply a rocker， and believes that “in rock music， critical connotations in lyrics and personal expressions are of great importance.” “I just don’t use any specific criteria when selecting songs for my albums， commercial viability or anything，”Wang insists. But he explains that an album should be balanced. Powerful songs can account for 10 percent to 20 percent， love songs for 10 to 20 percent， and songs that raise social questions and criticize modern realities should also be included. He hopes that everyone can find a favorite tune when listening to his albums.
Wang is tired of repeated questions about his commercialization. “If you think that records that achieve commercial success must suck and that real music doesn’t usually receive commercial success， I’d say your understanding of music is immature and juvenile.”
“What pains musicians is not commerce， but cheap and unfair commerce，” he continues. “If you talk about the spirit of rock every day， you’re definitely missing it. Spirit is not something you can easily talk about. You can write it into a story， turn it into a poem， but chitchatting about it is pointless.”