Mysterious Assistant of the Washed-Up Queen-Chapter 523 - 336: Sad Love Song, A Song of Blue and White
"This studio has got something, huh? Are all these newcomers so impressive?"
"I thought Li Guang was already pretty amazing, but Phoenix Legend is just as incredible?"
"With Li Guang before, and Phoenix Legend after, there sure is a cluster of good Singers here, aren’t there?"
"Did I miss something? It seemed like I heard a good song just now. Has that ’The Most Dazzling Ethnic Style’ finished?"
"Bro, you’ve missed out on a fortune! They didn’t sing that song at all; they were singing a new one!"
"Ah? Really? Is the new song good?"
"Good? Damn, it’s freaking awesome! I just can’t wrap my head around it, though. Why sing ’The Most Dazzling Ethnic Style’ when you could sing something else?"
"Exactly! Wouldn’t it have been better to sing this song earlier?"
"But... I think ’The Most Dazzling Ethnic Style’ sounds pretty good too, doesn’t it?"
"Does it?"
"Doesn’t it?"
"Stop, stop, stop. Actually, ’The Most Dazzling Ethnic Style’ really isn’t bad, and the one just now was clearly in the same style. You can call it tacky, but you can’t say it doesn’t sound good."
"I was just joking. Of course, I know it’s good. Otherwise, my mom wouldn’t listen to it every day. I feel like I could almost recite the lyrics."
"Yeah, I just find it a bit corny, that’s all."
"It’s really not about being corny. You guys think it’s corny just because those tunes are too familiar to you."
"What do you mean?"
Everyone had only been casually discussing things; how come someone suddenly started acting so authoritative?
Many eyes from below the stage focused on him, and some faces clearly couldn’t hide their disgust.
Everyone was here for the excitement. Who was this person suddenly spouting off and acting like they knew everything?
This really wasn’t someone putting on airs. Xu Qingqiu’s two consecutive classic albums had attracted attention not just from fans and music lovers, but also from countless peers and others in the music industry.
Music critics, musicians, Singers, teachers, students—anyone even remotely connected to music knew Xu Qingqiu’s name.
Moreover, the mastermind behind her, the mysterious ’Youmeng’, had prompted even scholars in music, language, and literature to analyze and interpret these works as case studies.
So, apart from fans and music lovers, the third-largest group at the concert consisted of those in the music profession.
Relatively speaking, there might have been fewer instrumentalists, since in their eyes, music theory was the bare minimum, musical composition secondary, and technical skill paramount.
But for Singers, music enthusiasts, researchers, composers, and music critics, these works held immense appeal.
If there was a chance to participate, it was certainly not to be missed. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎
If you were there in the crowd, you might have been sitting next to such a person.
And the one who had spoken earlier happened to be a well-known, veteran music critic.
Those familiar with him might even recognize him as part of the generation that had experienced the golden age of music, possibly even someone who had left a famous, long-established record company.
He had simply faded into obscurity as the music scene collapsed.
At this moment, the audience was oblivious to his identity and merely thought he was spouting nonsense.
The man who spoke didn’t seem to care much; he hadn’t even noticed the surrounding gazes.
It was as if he was recounting something, or perhaps, just talking to himself.
He looked at Xu Qingqiu, who had returned to the stage. He listened to the song’s arrangement—one he had heard many times before yet could still find new nuances in. His expression remained calm, his mind still immersed in the previous song.
Or perhaps, still lost in his own world, he slowly began to speak:
"You might not know, but our country originally didn’t have pop music.
Not just pop music; even folk, rock, hip-hop, rap, and other musical forms weren’t originally here.
Many people say that Chinese music has regressed, that it’s not what it used to be, that it’s in decline.
But how many people know that, from the time pop music entered our country until now, it’s been less than fifty years in total?
What is our native music? It’s Xintianyou; it’s folk songs.
Pop music used to just be called ’popular singing style.’
The audience, initially disinterested and openly disdainful, gradually found themselves captivated by his words.
He spoke with such sincerity, yet his content was so novel—so novel that no one had ever voiced these ideas before.
Even some of the younger listeners were hearing this for the first time; they had assumed pop music had existed for much longer.
"The reason you say this group’s songs feel antiquated is that these songs are essentially products of the last century.
Has anyone considered why your parents and grandparents love these songs so much? Because those are the melodies they grew up listening to. How could they not be familiar with them? How could they not like them?
You can be nostalgic, proclaiming daily that the music scene is dead, listening to retro music, and extolling the glory of the last century’s golden age.
But have you ever considered that before the golden age, your parents also experienced their youth filled with the splendor of a different kind of music?
What they listened to were folk songs—our nation’s most indigenous and pure music. These were the distilled experiences and emotions from the lives of working people, works that truly journeyed from the fields to the stage.
That’s why you find them unsophisticated, perhaps even unpresentable.
But when you’re far from home, drifting, and you hear these kinds of songs again, don’t you sense the aroma of your hometown?"
After saying this, the man looked at the hazy stage lights with a somber expression and murmured reflectively.
