On a cool night in 1986, I was invited to take part in an unprecedented concert held at the Beijing Workers' Stadium. The place was packed. I sang an original tune, Nothing to My Name, which people seemed to like. When the concert ended and I stepped outside, I saw some kids on the street imitating my moves. Few Chinese really knew what rock 'n' roll was back then. But we knew it was something that gave out energy. It was music with a message.
My musical odyssey began early. My father, a trumpet player in the People's Liberation Army, began teaching me when I was 14. My tastes were strictly classical. In 1981 I joined the Beijing Symphony Orchestra and played in it for seven years. Things began to change in 1985, though, when the group Wham! gave a concert in Beijing. A year later, I heard my first Beatles tape. I learned to play an electric guitar. After that 1986 concert, I formed a band and made rock my life.
I performed at Tiananmen Square in 1989, 15 days before the crackdown. I sang A Piece of Red Cloth, a tune about alienation. I covered my eyes with a red cloth to symbolize my feelings. The students were heroes. They needed me, and I needed them. After Tiananmen, however, the authorities banned concerts. We performed instead at "parties," unofficial shows in hotels and restaurants.
Things are different now. Rock has become commercialized, and the performers want to make money. Yet there is also a younger scene keeping the spirit alive. Rock 'n' roll is about equality. Some Chinese are slaves to Western culture; others look East. I say f___ all of them and be yourself. That's what I like about rock 'n' roll. You can talk straight.
--By Cui Jian
Cui Jian, China's most famous rock performer, lives in Beijing