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time-lapsed global village surveys
Sep. 26th, 2002 03:41 pm"Hey, let's take a little detour, I want you to check some places out."
Mike points us to an exit for Richmond, one of Vancouver's suburbs, and gives "turn here ... left at the light ... into this lot" directions that land us in front of a small storefront in one of Richmond's bazillion strip malls. There isn't a sign in front, and the insides still smell of new wood and fresh paint. "What is this place?"
"DJ studio that I'm doing some marketing consulting for."1 And he leads me into booths kitted out with three turntables, crossfaders, and minidisc and tape recorders -- chrome and black plastic immaculate in their factory freshness. "When it's done," he says, "you can come in, rent a booth by the hour and use it for practicing, producing, whatever. It'll be the first of its kind in North America."
If anything it's a hint at the popularity (or some may say trendiness) of DJing and turntablism in Vancouver, which itself is a hint at the growing presence of second generation immigrant culture in the city. It's been more than 10 years since the first wave of Hong Kong immigrants came to this city to flee the Communist takeover, and even longer since refugees from Indochina landed here. That's enough time for a generation of teenagers to come of age in a city that's still adjusting to a latent form of demographic shock -- and it isn't a surprise to find that hiphop's themes of disenfranchisement, racial identity and perceived oppression resonate with them, even if the music may not have been written with them in mind.
Throughout the afternoon and early evening, Mike takes me on a tour of Richmond, and we pass by strip malls covered in mandarin characters and tracts of suburban housing built with feng-shui guidelines but still looking indistinguishable from each other. Almost every pedestrian that we pass is ethnic Chinese. In this area, a McDonald's looks exotic, and the neon glow of a Toys'R'Us seems foreign.
I looked out the window as we drove on, and wondered if this is what the future of cities would look like, with an Asian majority adopting aspects of dominant Western culture and producing strange collisions along the way -- like Volkswagen Bugs covered in Sony Playstation decals, or DJ studios where posters of Eminem sit next to Buddhist symbols of good fortune.
1 Mike's day job is doing urban music promotion for a major record label. It's a job that, as he says, sounds sexier than it actually is. Strings of release parties at nightclubs get old and predictable after a while, and the urge to come up with new marketing ideas gets a little taxing.
"So, like, we've got this new shipment of (famous rap-star) branded urinal cakes last week, and I'm all like, 'what the hell am I supposed to do with these?'"
"You could get all Fight Club like and slip them in the men's restrooms of fancy restaurants."
"Guerilla marketing's kinda played out nowadays ... besides, it's not like I want to get banned from every swank restaurant in the city. What'll my woman say?"
(*) - minor cris trivia: back in the winter of 1993, I was visiting Vancouver, driving around with Mike and he slots a tape into my car stereo and techno starts playing. After a few minutes he asks,
"what do you think?"
"it's alright. it's got a good groove going, but it's kinda long, a little dawdly. who is it?"
"this new UK group called Underworld."
"huh. cool."
Mike points us to an exit for Richmond, one of Vancouver's suburbs, and gives "turn here ... left at the light ... into this lot" directions that land us in front of a small storefront in one of Richmond's bazillion strip malls. There isn't a sign in front, and the insides still smell of new wood and fresh paint. "What is this place?"
"DJ studio that I'm doing some marketing consulting for."1 And he leads me into booths kitted out with three turntables, crossfaders, and minidisc and tape recorders -- chrome and black plastic immaculate in their factory freshness. "When it's done," he says, "you can come in, rent a booth by the hour and use it for practicing, producing, whatever. It'll be the first of its kind in North America."
If anything it's a hint at the popularity (or some may say trendiness) of DJing and turntablism in Vancouver, which itself is a hint at the growing presence of second generation immigrant culture in the city. It's been more than 10 years since the first wave of Hong Kong immigrants came to this city to flee the Communist takeover, and even longer since refugees from Indochina landed here. That's enough time for a generation of teenagers to come of age in a city that's still adjusting to a latent form of demographic shock -- and it isn't a surprise to find that hiphop's themes of disenfranchisement, racial identity and perceived oppression resonate with them, even if the music may not have been written with them in mind.
Throughout the afternoon and early evening, Mike takes me on a tour of Richmond, and we pass by strip malls covered in mandarin characters and tracts of suburban housing built with feng-shui guidelines but still looking indistinguishable from each other. Almost every pedestrian that we pass is ethnic Chinese. In this area, a McDonald's looks exotic, and the neon glow of a Toys'R'Us seems foreign.
I looked out the window as we drove on, and wondered if this is what the future of cities would look like, with an Asian majority adopting aspects of dominant Western culture and producing strange collisions along the way -- like Volkswagen Bugs covered in Sony Playstation decals, or DJ studios where posters of Eminem sit next to Buddhist symbols of good fortune.
1 Mike's day job is doing urban music promotion for a major record label. It's a job that, as he says, sounds sexier than it actually is. Strings of release parties at nightclubs get old and predictable after a while, and the urge to come up with new marketing ideas gets a little taxing.
"So, like, we've got this new shipment of (famous rap-star) branded urinal cakes last week, and I'm all like, 'what the hell am I supposed to do with these?'"
"You could get all Fight Club like and slip them in the men's restrooms of fancy restaurants."
"Guerilla marketing's kinda played out nowadays ... besides, it's not like I want to get banned from every swank restaurant in the city. What'll my woman say?"
(*) - minor cris trivia: back in the winter of 1993, I was visiting Vancouver, driving around with Mike and he slots a tape into my car stereo and techno starts playing. After a few minutes he asks,
"what do you think?"
"it's alright. it's got a good groove going, but it's kinda long, a little dawdly. who is it?"
"this new UK group called Underworld."
"huh. cool."
