Where does one even start with Anthony Wong? Know that what I’m picking from his diverse catalog is just a snapshot (perhaps my favorite of his, 1994’s 明明不是天使 (I’m No Angel)) of what continues to be a fascinating career and life. And for those that know him best (and better), this is just an introduction into a trailblazing artist whose means of freely expressing himself, keeps unjustly being truncated by those who hold such powers (not freely granted to them).
Sometimes you just have to put yourself in another’s shoes. I mean, picture yourself growing up in Hong Kong, just as Anthony, trying to figure out your connection to a society that simply doesn’t want to acknowledge you exist.
It was in the late ‘70s that Anthony Wong Yiu-Ming grew up in “temporary housing” (in what we consider “the projects” in America), East of Kowloon, simply enamored with music, the arts, and spirituality. Out of all those original desires, faith was what spoke to him the most then. Then, reality kicked in. Somewhere in this period, his desire to become a priest collided with repression of who really was: a gay man – a secret he’d hold onto quietly at that time.
Soured by religion’s take on who he can be and looking to try to do something to get out of his meager beginnings, Anthony worked twice as hard to start a career in the television and film industry. With time, however, that wandering muse would transition his focus into one in fashion and advertising. Music, ever tempting, kept nagging at his heart and never felt that far off in Anthony’s mind.
After jettisoning off his burgeoning advertising career for one as a radio DJ, in 1984, Anthony read or caught wind of in a Hong Kong music magazine that Tats Lau was looking for a vocalist to start a band. As related elsewhere, Anthony responded to the ad, and passed his audition by singing outstanding renditions of Wham’s “Careless Whisper” and Culture Club’s “Time (Club Of The Heart)”. Just a year later, in 1985, they signed a contract with PolyGram, going under the name ‘Tat Ming Pair’ a quasi-portmanteau of their first and last names.
Together, a shared love of electronic music and the Pet Shop Boys gave the Tat Ming Pair some sort of direction. In the span of a year songs that were workshopped in Hong Kong discos would appear in 1986’s 達明一派II – Kiss Me Goodbye and shortly rocket them into both critical and sales success. In the span of five years, five albums were released that kept building and building up there aspirations.
Huge hit releases like 石頭記 (The Story Of The Stone), begat more experimental and provocative albums like 1988’s 我等着你回來 (I’m Waiting For Your Return) or 你還愛我嗎 (Do You Still Love Me?) with songs like “Forbidden Colors (禁色)” touching on queer sexuality or others on the growing Hong Kong diaspora due to ongoing political change.
By the time of 1990’s 神經 (Nerve), the duo had become more openly politically active, going so far as performing in concerts raising money for those protesting in Tiananmen Square and writing songs alluding to the upcoming 1997 loss of Hong Kong sovereignty. With all the tumult they became involved in and all their artistic differences on what to do next, would it be any surprise that in 1991 Tats and Anthony called it a day and pursued solo careers?
While Tats would involve himself in amazing behind-the-scenes work, soundtracking film or writing for others, and front-of-scene, pursuing a career in acting, Anthony refused to lay down the flag of Cantopop. Knowing that he had just a few years to openly release the music he wanted to make, Anthony began his own ascent.
First came Anthony’s most personally difficult record. 1992’s 黃耀明 (Faith, Hope, and Love) touched on themes of Christianity, autocracy, and politics, quite intimate things, all to tracks trying to keep up with and adapt with the latest sonic territory covered by the burgeoning ‘90s EDM scene. It was on this record that we would hear original Cantonese versions of songs like “過日辰” and “你真伟大” that would later make a reappearance in a different fashion in 1994’s 明明不是天使 (I’m No Angel).
Just a year later, in 1993, Anthony would release 借借你的愛 (Borrowing Your Love) full of even more varied and dare I say, “mature”-sounding music. It was from there that huge, soon-to-be sophisticated-Cantopop hits like “借借你的愛” and “每天你愛多一些” would make their appearance. It was there we would hear Anthony sing in Cantonese otherworldly dance ballads like “花非花” for the first time. Much like Lim Giong’s Folk Paradise released a decade later, here was Anthony trying to gather a berth to bridge the space between his tradition and a truncated modernity. That you can dance to songs like “大路”, “邊走邊唱”, and “愛比死更冷”, songs that speak to the heart, mind, and booty, belies the point that this was music far, far ahead of its time.
So, why do I go back to 1994’s 明明不是天使 (I’m No Angel)? Because Anthony Wong went there. I mean, he could have remained a popular singer in Hong Kong, forever being a big fish in a small Canto pond, but he felt his songs were more universal than that. In 1994, Anthony took the initiative to stick out one arm and send it to Taiwan and the other to mainland China. Singing in Mandarin for the first time, Anthony compiled a sort of “best-of” collection of songs he felt he could rework in that language, in a way that could be understood by both Mandopop and Hokkien pop audiences. It’s those songs found exactly here, I think, that encapsulate perfectly just what is Anthony’s musical vision.
Forget that many in Taiwan thought of him as a communist sympathizer. Forget that many in the mainland thought of him as a “chrysanthemum”, a not-so-secretly gay, rabble rouser. His songs, as good as they were hard to ignore, to all open-minded listeners. Here you have him ending the album, on a reimagination of one of Taiwan’s pillar folk songs, Teng Yu-hsien’s “四季紅” (aka “Song Of The Four Seasons”), singing and spiriting a jaw-dropping avant-garde rendition of it, asking those who got here: “What’s so funny about a little peace, love, and understanding?”.
Fast forward many moons later, as we get to unsurprisingly, once again, discover that Anthony is facing trouble for supporting artistic, intellectual, and corporal freedom, (all endowed to each of us by birth), it’s important for us to put ourselves in his shoes. It’s important for us to remember to remain dignified in the face of ignorance. In the end, grace still has its place, floating above a world (sometimes) momentarily full of unpleasant bullshit — something that outlives it all.