Steve Five, Shahryar Motia, Jake Fiedler, Zach Lehrhoff, and Shahin Motia rock the Great Wall.

Ex Models play their last China show at Shanghai’s Yu Yin Tang.

Great Wall of Fire

Lost in translation

On a recent overseas tour, Brooklyn noiseniks Ex Models offer a different kind of Chinese democracy BY ANDY BE TA

Swifter than a Jackie Chan snakefist, in the 21st century, China has cast off the drab olive of Maoist communism and embraced Western ways with abandon, from laissez-faire capitalism to experimental architecture to American rock and pop. In 2007, Nine Inch Nails, Sonic Youth, Beyoncé, Linkin Park, Public Enemy, and Yeah Yeah Yeahs all performed in the world’s most populous nation. While superstars can play for crowds 100,000 strong, indie acts too are finding Chinese audiences receptive to out-there sounds, despite the lack of a homegrown music infrastructure. “There really hasn’t been any precedent for underground rock in China,” says Yeah Yeah Yeahs drummer Brian Chase. “Nothing to cultivate any ‘scene’ or nurture the aspiring musician.”

While touring Asia, Chase was surprised when several Sino-rockers name-checked Brooklyn’s abrasive, challenging Ex Models. Concurrently, the expat owner of Beijing’s D- 22 rock club, Michael Pettis, had also caught the band in NYC and was determined to bring them over, knowing their noise would resound in China. “Although there is a strong Britpop element here,” Pettis explains, “the most serious musicians see New York as the center of the world.” Last December, Ex Models— singer/guitarist Shahin Motia, second guitarist (and older brother) Shahryar Motia, bassist Zach Lehrhoff (who also plays with Chase in the Seconds), drummer Jake Fiedler, and sound guy Steve Five—hopped on a 14-hour flight to make ears bleed for audiences halfway around the world. Here’s a taste of R-O-C-K in the P-R-C.

12 BEIJING

14 As Ex Models deplane,
they encounter the suf-
focating lead-gray skies
of the republic’s capital, where
the skyscrapers can barely be
seen through the smog. “It’s
like someone built a factory in
your mouth,” Shahin says. Their
first gig is at D-2 2, which has
hosted such fellow New York
racket-makers as the New York
Dolls and Elliott Sharp. “We’re
not even a popular band!”
says Shahin as he surveys the
packed venue. Beijing darlings
Carsick Cars open, and for
their final song, “Zhong Nan
Hai”—whose punny title refers
to both a Kremlin-like govern-
ment compound and a popular

brand of smokes—the crowd lovingly pelts the band with unlit cigarettes. After Ex Models’ bludgeoning set, the audience shows its appreciation in a more conventional way— hooting for one more song. “Encores are a rarity here,” Pettis says, impressed.

₁₂ BEIJING

16 “Between jet lag and not speaking a lick of

Chinese, there’s this feeling of being trapped,” Shahryar says, ruefully. The band members decide to explore a 7-Eleven, its shelves stocked with plum wine and neon-colored jellies. For dinner before the show at the cavernous, red-curtained Yugong

Tishan club (formerly a warlord’s compound), they feast on frog, eel, cow esophagus, pig’s blood, tripe, and duck feet. Steve Five, faced with a meal “replete with bones, scales, and shells,” opts for a club sandwich.

12 THE GREAT WALL 17 A day trip peaks with the band—buzzed on

Tiger beer and sweet wine—walking along the ancient monument. “We’re here because of rock!” Shahin proclaims from atop a turret.

to Shanghai. Once aboard, they find that their sleeping-car reservations have been altered—with no explanation. “I’m learning that shit changes in China,” Lehrhoff says with a shrug. After a show at the swanky 4LIVE bar, he leaves his guitar in a taxi.

₁₂ SHANGHAI

20 No doubt due to the relax-
ing effects of a group mas-
sage session, the band
nearly miss their overnight train

12 NANJING

21 China’s former capital
has only one live-music
venue: the Castle Bar, a
dilapidated building right near
a McDonald’s, a temple, and a
video arcade. The unpretentious
setting, however, makes for Ex
Models’ finest performance yet.
“The crowd behaved like they’d
made a vow to go home in an
ambulance,” says Shahin, who
breaks his guitar mid-set.

12 SHANGHAI

22 After their final show,
they meet a fan who
flew in from the
Philippines with her mom.
Soon after, a Chinese fan asks
Fiedler to sign all of his Ex
Models records. I ask the band
if this tour was any different
from a Stateside trek in a van.
“Any time a tour is finished,
there’s a sense of relief,”
Lehrhoff says with a jet-lagged
sigh. For Shahin, success on the
tour simply means that “there’s
a few people in China going
home thinking: ‘ Their ideas
were okay, but now I have a
better one.’” Could there be
another cultural revolution in
the making?