Have you heard "The Songs We Sang"?

We basked in the fame and glory of the regional musical achievements that Stephanie Sun and JJ Lin have brought to our little red dot, unaware of the success that was achieved at the expense of the anguish and despair of a generation of Chinese-educated.

Xinyao’s roots was unravelled by Eva Tang’s documentary “The Songs We Sang” and admittedly, I will never look at xinyao--a term used to define songs produced by Singapore youths, the same way ever again.

Paradoxically, xinyao was founded upon the closure of Nantah--the first and last Chinese university in Singapore that was initiated, established and funded entirely by our local Chinese community. People from all walks of lives from the Chinese community contributed to cause of Nantah.  

The closure of Nantah symbolized an extermination of the Chinese medium education and the beginning of the inevitable decline of the Chinese language, the Chinese culture and its identity. Yet, it was precisely the shrinking of space for the Chinese-ed that created an unforeseeable growth of Mandarin singing groups that would later grow to make a name for our little red dot in the regional music business.

Led by Nantah graduates, the frustration and anguish of being discriminated and the erosion of cultural identity in your own country were channelled into poetry singing and subsequently into a more colloquial form of campus singing groups among the Chinese-ed junior college students. It was the same collective and spontaneous effort from the ground to build Nantah that ignited the xinyao movement among the Chinese-ed community.

Campus xinyao flourished and grew out of campus when the first record company was set up, breathing new life into xinyao, bringing it to another level and setting the stage to take flight offshore with our locally-nurtured talents. The perseverance, the passion and the patriotism of the xinyao members and predecessors were rewarded with the inroads that our home-grown singers made in the music biz in the Greater Chinese community.

Amateurish but xinyao’s passion and sincerity touched those who heard them. A whole generation of Chinese-ed that was written off by history, scarred by the brutal language policy and yet transformed the negative events in their lives into positive notes and voices through the medium of xinyao. And those who heard them came forward with their helping hands. People from the media industry, government officials and audience out of their own accord played a part in their own capacity to promote xinyao along the way. Xinyao would never have made it without the support of the community.

Singapore’s official history has been well-documented from a top-down perspective. But xinyao refracted a part of our history of that generation, both the xinyao members and its supporters through grounds-up effort created the existence of xinyao. Xinyao came from the people and came from the hearts. It is the voices, the spirit of that generation that I believe are what Eva Tang is trying to capture in this documentary.

Paradoxically again, the generation of Chinese-ed deemed inferior to their English-educated compatriots, were also the ones who gained recognition overseas and became “talents” beyond our shores. The Chinese language which was denounced by the then government was the medium which our newer generation of English-ed xinyao singers such as Kit

Chan, Stephanie Sun and Tanya Chua have to borrow to break into the regional music scene. Liang Wern Fook’s “Sparrow with a twig” was banned from broadcasting for 23 years because of the dialects present in the song and yet, songs with other foreign languages are allowed to be aired freely. Such belittling of our own culture and people is indeed a paradox itself and uniquely Singapore.

After spending stacks of cash, F1 may have put our little red dot on the world map and we have added another Olympic medal in table tennis into our collection of vanity. But nothing beats a group of civilians who are entirely self-driven by pride, genuineness to have successfully placed our little red dot on the regional map. Because this is genuinely and uniquely Made In Singapore. It has to come from the heart.

And neither do I need to wait till National Day for the designated official patriotic song to flaunt my patriotism. I have already heard it in xinyao. From our own people, from our own voices and from our own hearts. And it is this that moves me. Even without the overseas recognition of xinyao, this is where our pride should be.

I was in time for the last screening of the documentary. And fortunately, I was in time for xinyao too.

听见了《我们唱着的歌》

孙燕姿、林俊杰让小红点在亚洲乐坛上绽放的光环，给岛民沾光不少。原来，这道光环是踩在一代人的文化身份尸体上凝聚而成的。岛国儿女引以为傲的乐坛成就，是以一代人的失落、卑微、悲痛所换取而来的。这份骄傲，该让我欢喜，还是悲愤?

以为是在讲述新谣史的本地纪录片《我们唱着的歌》，原来是要传送一代人的声音和精神，传颂岛国的故事，属于我们的过去。

新谣竟然根源于南大（南洋大学，而非新加坡南洋理工大学）。是当时语文政策下民间所做出的集体反射，后来演进为一场运动。同样来自民间力量而创办的南大被当时的政府关闭（官方称为合并）。被政府大肆标签为不达标、母族文化被排斥的南大毕业生化悲愤为诗乐，将诗歌谱曲演唱、自发地另辟传承华族文化香火的途经，进而带动了校园弹唱新谣。承接的人赋予新谣生命，新谣分子有组织地成立唱片公司培养新一代歌手（咦，这不是政府提倡的企业精神吗？），赋予新谣新的生命，闯入大中华圈的华语乐坛。

当时的新谣分子凭着真诚、莫名的骄傲，透过歌声、歌曲感动了周围的人，引来了具有良知的媒体人士、政府高官、市井小民凭着自己的能力推动本地音乐，新谣才能越走越稳。新谣后来所取得的成就，是集体的力量。身为华校生的前总统王鼎昌也为这股民间运动伸出援手。资深广播人林子惠回忆一名听众毅然舍弃$20奖金的机会，预测了明知道是不可能会上龙虎榜的新谣歌曲《邂逅》，就是要借空中的机会介绍这支歌曲，把它推向广大的群众。

每个人的能力，积水成河。他们的骄傲、真诚、信念，我们听到了吗？

那一代人，被历史巨轮碾过，却通过歌声、歌词、音符，把历史伤痕转为正能量，竟也在无心插柳的情形下，缔造了历史。以华语流行乐让小红点打入了区域歌坛，把我们的文化输出了国外。这一代人的历史，是官方或教科书制定以外，纯属民间集体力量写成的，幸得导演邓宝翠通过纪录片的形式，永久地保留下来。

是悲壮，还是悖论？

因为南大的关闭，歼灭整代人的文化身份，才成就了新谣。被英语政策否定价值、剥夺身份的那群人，努力地寻找自我价值和定位的过程中，却打破小红点的局限，闯入海外，成为他国的“人才”。在自家门被歧视的华语，却成为了打入区域乐坛的工具，红了后来的英校生歌手陈洁仪、孙燕姿、蔡健雅等。梁文福《麻雀衔竹枝》的创作，却因为歌曲内的方言而遭禁播整整23年，参杂其他外来语言的歌曲却能通行无阻。属于我们自己的东西、人才却被否定。是悖论。

集合了本土资源，由骄傲、真诚、自发性的推动，成功put Singapore on the regional map。比起花钱把别人的Formula 1移花接木地用来炫耀小红点存在价值或是直接进口乒乓球员换来奥运奖牌的做法，这才是货真价实的Made.In.Singapore.

发自于内心对小红点的骄傲所释放出来的力量，这才是让人动容的自豪。爱国歌，不必等到8月份才能听到。我在新谣歌曲中，已经听到了。

用新谣来祭奠小红点的华文文化，唱出了属于我们岛国的歌声，你听到了吗?