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「生命必須向前走，理解卻得回頭看。」

從大學時期創作的〈After All These Years〉、二十多歲寫給母親的〈Reunion〉，到疫情期間寫下的〈The Best of the Worst of Times〉，蘇珮卿第三張專輯《The Best of the Worst of Times》收錄了時間跨度長達二十年的作品。

有些歌曲曾經長時間留在電腦裡，有些作品則在多年後重新被拾起。當曾經寫下的聲音再次出現在耳邊，時間也讓這些作品有了新的觀看角度。這張專輯像是一場與過往重新相遇的過程，那些曾經寫下的情緒、記憶與生命片段，在時間推移之後，也有了重新被理解的可能。

這次蘇珮卿與 Benjamin Lazar Davis 及不同背景的音樂家合作，在新的環境與聲音之中重新整理這些作品。從過去到現在，從記憶到當下，她也繼續思考自己與創作之間的關係。

一張專輯，可以收藏歌曲，也可以收藏時間。當我們再次聽見那些曾經的聲音，也許會發現，真正被留下來的，不只是音樂。

《The Best of the Worst of Times》，讓我們跟著蘇珮卿一起回頭看看。

Q1：這張專輯收錄了跨越二十年的作品，從大學時期創作的〈After All These Years〉、二十多歲寫給母親的〈Reunion〉，到疫情期間抗癌時寫下的〈The Best of the Worst of Times〉。這些歌曲誕生於不同的人生階段，這次重新整理作品時，妳是怎麼決定把它們放進同一張專輯裡的？

蘇珮卿：我的電腦裡其實一直存著一些 demo，其中有幾首歌，我常常會想起來，因為它們對我的意義很大。這張專輯裡那些放了比較久的作品，都是這樣的狀態：雖然一直放著，但我心裡都希望，有一天可以把它們發行出來。

相較之下，主題曲〈The Best of the Worst of Times〉是比較近期寫的。在寫這首歌的時候，整張專輯就已經慢慢有了一個輪廓。後來，也就很自然而然地把這些來自不同人生時刻的歌，收進同一張專輯裡。

Q2：專輯文案引用齊克果的話：「生命必須向前走，理解卻得回頭看。」而這張專輯似乎也一直在做這件事，把過去重新拿出來觀看。對現在的妳而言，這次回頭看過去的作品，是不是也成為了一個重新理解自己的過程？

蘇珮卿：我覺得這就是時間很神奇的地方。很多時候，人在當下其實很難看清楚整件事情的樣貌，尤其在一些比較困難的時刻，可能只想著趕快讓它過去。

但時間就像一種原物料，經過它之後，再回頭看同一件事，會有完全不同的感受，也會看見以前沒有注意到的細節，有一些新的體會。這次回頭聽這些作品也是這樣，會重新看見當時的自己，也發現現在的自己已經不一樣了。我覺得這是生命很美的地方。

Q3：〈Reunion〉這次直接保留當年的 demo 放進專輯。經過這麼多年，妳再次聽見那個時期的自己的聲音時，和當年創作這首歌時的感受相比，現在聽見的「思念」有沒有變成不同的東西？

蘇珮卿：我是在一次搬家、整理東西的時候，重新找到這個錄音。聽到的時候，自己也有點驚訝，因為每個階段的自己，唱出來的聲音真的很不一樣，裡面也包含了當時整個人的狀態。像我覺得，2020 年之後的我，不管是唱歌的方式還是人的狀態，跟之前幾乎像是兩個人。

所以再聽到〈Reunion〉，會有一種「哇，原來我以前是這樣詮釋這首歌的」的感覺。我自己很喜歡那個版本，也覺得回頭看見一個跟現在完全不一樣的自己，是很奇妙的事，所以就想把當年的錄音留下來。

思念的感覺的確也變了。當時的思念，對我來說還帶著一些痛苦。現在年紀大了一點，自己的世界也變大、變寬了，很多事情會放在跟以前不一樣的位置。離別和思念並沒有減少，但它們在心裡的位置，變得比較溫柔、比較美好了。

Q4：專輯裡反覆提到，那些曾經覺得很壞的時光，最後可能會成為生命裡的寶藏。但人在經歷低潮的當下，通常很難知道它未來會帶來什麼。現在回頭看，有沒有哪一段曾經艱難的過去，在多年之後才發現，它其實改變了妳看待生活或創作的方式？

蘇珮卿：對我來說，人生最大的轉捩點應該就是 2020 年。那段經歷，我在上一張專輯的訪問裡也提過不少次。很奇妙的是，那時候雖然生活停擺了，我卻過了一段前所未有、很簡單也很幸福的日子。

那段經歷讓我整個人變得柔軟很多，不管是待人處事，或是看待世界、看待自己，都有很大的改變。以前很在意的事情，後來好像也能放鬆一點了。這些改變也很自然地影響了我後來的創作。

Q5：〈Letting Go (and Getting Let Go)〉從 Benjamin 的吉他開始發展，並從《愛心樹》的故事延伸到生命裡「放下與被放下」的課題。回到創作上，這些年妳有沒有發現自己慢慢放下了一些過去創作時很在意的事情？而這樣的改變，又如何影響現在的妳？

蘇珮卿：我覺得「放下跟被放下」是每個人在人生裡都會碰到的事情。對我來說，2020 年真的是一個很大的轉捩點。那一年之後，我開始覺得，能夠繼續創作，是一件額外得到的、原本不一定還能擁有的事情，所以它變成了一個禮物。

以前會很想突破，很想達成什麼，但現在比較不需要去證明自己了。有話想說、有故事想分享，就盡力把它做出來，但不需要刻意，也不需要讓自己很痛苦，好像非得完成什麼才可以。我覺得這是這些年很大的改變。

Q6：這次在洛杉磯錄音，妳和 Benjamin Lazar Davis 以及不同背景的音樂家一起完成這張專輯。從進入錄音室到作品逐漸成形，這次合作的過程是怎麼樣的？有沒有什麼讓妳特別印象深刻的時刻？

蘇珮卿：這次能夠住在錄音室裡，密集地完成一張專輯，是我一直很想做的事情。雖然跟 Benjamin 是第一次合作，但我們的默契很好，音樂上的想法也很自然地接得起來。

最讓我印象深刻的是，專輯裡很多聽起來像合成器的聲音，其實都是我們在錄音室現場取樣做出來的。有些原本是人聲，也有取樣我的長笛。我們還會敲錄音室的牆壁、各種不同的地方，把那些聲音拼成一個 beat。這些都是我以前沒有試過的方式，對我來說很新鮮，也真的非常好玩。

Q7：Cody Byassee 是妳長年的親密伴侶，也是音樂上的合作夥伴。一起創作這麼多年，你們之間是否已經形成某種特別的音樂默契？有沒有一些音樂上的想法或細節，是妳和他一起工作時，往往不需要說太多，他就能理解的？

蘇珮卿：我覺得 Cody 是我人生裡的一個大天使，他真的毫無保留地支持我做的事情。尤其當我陷入糾結，或是卡住的時候，他會聽我抒發，也會陪我把那些想法慢慢理開。

音樂上也是，他非常理解我，所以很多時候，我們的確不需要說太多。一起工作這麼多年，這種默契對我來說很珍貴。

Q8：這次和李英宏合作〈生活中的幽默感〉，兩個原本音樂語言很不一樣的創作者碰在一起。實際合作之後，有沒有什麼是他的創作方式或音樂觀點，讓妳特別欣賞或覺得有意思的？

蘇珮卿：我一直很欣賞英宏，覺得他很有才華，又很帥氣。他的音樂有一種很厲害的平衡：很有台味，但同時又很 modern，這是我很喜歡的地方。所以當我想到〈生活中的幽默感〉想找人合作時，很快就想到他了。

實際合作之後，我覺得他真的駕馭得超好。我非常喜歡他在這首歌裡加入的每一個部分，不只是恰到好處，還很幽默、很有趣，又很好聽。他加入的所有東西，我真的都非常喜歡。

Q9：〈Every Second’s A Treasure〉大約十年前便開始醞釀，直到這次才真正完成。對妳來說，一首歌要等到什麼時候，才會知道「現在是它該被聽見的時候」？

蘇珮卿：〈Every Second’s A Treasure〉最早是我在練大豎琴的時候寫的。一開始的樣子比較古典，有很優美的豎琴和長笛，是一首很陽光、很溫暖，關於愛情的歌。

它原本是想收進第二張專輯的，其實這張裡面有好幾首歌都是。但後來第二張專輯的方向突然出現，就先去做那張了，這些歌也就留在電腦裡。不是刻意要等這麼久，只是一路走著走著，它們就放到了現在。

我覺得有些作品，收起來之後可能就忘了；但有些作品，你再回去聽，還是會帶來新的啟發。這首歌就是這樣。那時候重新聽舊 demo，聽到它就覺得：「哇，我以前寫了這樣的 riff，好喜歡！」

寫它的時候，我還沒有玩那麼多電的效果，後來就想試試看，把這些聲音加進去會怎麼樣。結果越玩越覺得有趣，再加上 Benjamin 在聲響上的創意，就慢慢變成現在的樣子。

所以對我來說，那個時機有點像天時地利人和：剛好要做新的作品，重新聽到這段音樂又有了啟發，也剛好有話想說，它就很自然地到了該被聽見的時候。

Q10：最後想請妳推薦幾首自己很喜歡的歌曲，可以是最近反覆聽的，也可以是一直放在心中的作品。為什麼會特別喜歡這幾首歌？

蘇珮卿：第一首想推薦 Benjamin Lazar Davis 的〈A Love Song Seven Ways〉。剛認識 Benjamin、在聯繫他當製作人的那段時間，我把他的作品聽了一輪，聽到這首就非常喜歡。還有他的樂團 Cuddle Magic 的〈Halloween〉，我也超級愛。

第三首是他們共同的朋友，一位叫 Tōth 的音樂人，他的〈Spiraling〉也是我非常喜歡的一首歌。

我覺得這幾首歌都很有畫面，聲響給我的感覺很像「人生的原聲帶」。這點跟我這張專輯也很接近，就是聽著聽著，好像會回到記憶裡的一些畫面，所以特別喜歡，也想推薦給大家。

Interview | Paige Su - The Best of the Worst of Times

Looking Back Through Time, Rediscovering Who We Once Were

“Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards.”

From “After All These Years,” written during her university, and “Reunion,” written for her mother in the twenties, to “The Best of the Worst of Times,” written during the pandemic, Paige Su’s third album, The Best of the Worst of Times, brings together works spanning two decades.

Some of these songs remained on her computer for years, while others were picked up again long after they were first written. When those voices from the past return, time offers a new perspective on these works. In that sense, the album becomes a process of encountering the past once again, allowing emotions, memories, and fragments of life captured in these songs to take on new meanings over time.

For this album, Su also worked with Benjamin Lazar Davis and musicians from different musical backgrounds, revisiting these works through new environments and sounds. Moving between the past and the present, and between memory and the here and now, she continues to explore her relationship with music and the act of creating.

An album can preserve songs, but it can also preserve time. And when we hear those voices from the past again, perhaps we begin to realise that what has truly been left behind is more than just music.

The Best of the Worst of Times invites us to look back with Paige Su.

Q1: The album brings together songs written across two decades, from “After All These Years,” which you wrote during your university, and “Reunion,” written for your mother in the twenties, to “The Best of the Worst of Times,” which you wrote while undergoing cancer treatment during the pandemic. These songs came from very different periods of your life. When revisiting your work for this album, how did you decide that these songs belonged together?

Paige Su: I’ve always had demos stored on my computer. There are a few songs that I would often find myself thinking about because they meant a lot to me. The older songs on this album were all like that. Even though they had been sitting there for a long time, part of me always hoped that one day I would be able to release them.

By comparison, “The Best of the Worst of Times” was written more recently. When I wrote that song, the album had already started to take shape in my mind. So it felt quite natural to bring these songs from different moments in my life together on the same record.

Q2: The album’s liner notes quote Søren Kierkegaard: “Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards.” In a way, the album seems to do exactly that, looking back at the past from the present. For you now, has revisiting these earlier works also become a way of understanding yourself differently?

Paige Su: I think that’s what makes time so fascinating. When we’re in the middle of something, it’s often difficult to see the whole picture, especially during difficult periods. Sometimes all you want is for it to be over as quickly as possible.

But time is almost like a raw material. Once you have some distance from an experience, you can look back at the same thing and feel completely differently about it. You notice details you didn’t see before, and you gain new perspectives.

That’s what happened when I listened back to these songs. I could see who I was at the time, while also realising that I’m a different person now. I think that’s one of the beautiful things about life.

Q3: You chose to include the original demo of “Reunion” on the album. After all these years, when you hear your younger self singing that song again, how does the sense of longing feel different from when you first wrote it?

Paige Su: I found the recording while I was moving house and sorting through some things. When I heard it again, I was actually a little surprised, because the way you sing at different stages of your life can sound so different, and those differences also carry the state of who you were at the time. I feel that the person I became after 2020, both in the way I sing and in who I am, is almost like a completely different person from 

before.

So when I heard “Reunion” again, I had this feeling of, “Wow, so this is how I used to interpret this song.” I really like that version, and I find it fascinating to encounter a version of myself who feels so different from who I am now. That’s why I wanted to preserve the original recording.

The feeling of longing has changed as well. Back then, that longing still carried a lot of pain for me. Now that I’m a little older, my world has become bigger and wider, and I place things differently in my life. The sense of loss and longing hasn’t become any less, but their place in my heart has become gentler and, in a way, more beautiful.

Q4: The album repeatedly returns to the idea that the times we once thought were the worst can eventually become some of life’s treasures. But when we are going through a difficult period, it’s usually hard to know what it might eventually give us. Looking back now, is there a difficult period in your life that you only realised years later had changed the way you see life or your creative work?

Paige Su: For me, the biggest turning point in my life was probably 2020. I’ve talked about that period quite a bit in interviews for my previous album. What’s interesting is that although life came to a standstill at the time, I actually experienced a period that was simpler and happier than anything I had known before.

That experience made me much softer as a person. It changed the way I treat people, the way I see the world, and the way I see myself. Things that I used to care about so much became easier to let go of. Those changes naturally found their way into my music as well.

Q5: “Letting Go (and Getting Let Go)” began with a guitar part from Benjamin and draws on the story of The Giving Tree to explore the ideas of letting go and being let go. Looking at your creative journey, have you found yourself gradually letting go of things that you used to care deeply about as an artist? And how has that changed the way you create today?

Paige Su: I think letting go and being let go are things everyone encounters at some point in life. For me, 2020 was a major turning point. After that year, I started to feel that simply being able to continue making music was something extra, something I might not have been able to have. So it became a gift.

I used to be very focused on breaking through and achieving certain things. Now I don’t feel the same need to prove myself. If I have something I want to say or a story I want to share, I’ll do my best to make it. But I don’t need to force it, and I don’t need to make myself suffer as if I have to accomplish something at all costs. I think that has been one of the biggest changes for me over the years.

Q6: For this album, you travelled to Los Angeles and worked with Benjamin Lazar Davis and musicians from different backgrounds. What was the process of making the album together, from stepping into the studio to watching the songs gradually take shape? Was there any particular moment that stayed with you?

Paige Su: Being able to live in the studio and work intensively on an album was something I had always wanted to experience. Although it was my first time working with Benjamin, we had a great musical connection and our ideas came together very naturally.

What stayed with me most was the way we created many of the sounds that you might hear as synthesizers on the album. A lot of them were actually sampled in the studio. Some came from vocals, and we also sampled my flute. We would even hit the walls of the studio and different surfaces around us, then piece those sounds together to create beats.

These were all approaches I had never tried before. It felt very fresh to me, and it was genuinely a lot of fun.

Q7: Cody Byassee has been both your longtime partner and a musical collaborator. After creating music together for so many years, do you feel that you’ve developed a particular musical shorthand? Are there certain ideas or details that he can understand when you work together without you having to explain very much?

Paige Su: I feel that Cody is the great angel in my life. He supports everything I do without reservation. Especially when I get caught up in my own thoughts or feel stuck, he listens to me and helps me slowly work through those ideas.

It’s the same with music. He understands me very well, so a lot of the time we really don’t need to say much. After working together for so many years, that kind of understanding is incredibly precious to me.

Q8: On “Daily Humor,” you and DJ Didilong, two artists with very different musical languages, come together. After working with him, was there anything about his creative approach or musical perspective that you particularly admired or found interesting?

Paige Su: I’ve always admired DJ Didilong. I think he’s incredibly talented, and he’s very handsome too. There’s a really impressive balance in his music: it feels distinctly Taiwanese, while also being very modern. That’s something I really love about his work. So when I thought about who I wanted to collaborate with on “Daily Humor,” he came to mind very quickly.

After working together, I felt that he handled the song incredibly well. I love every part he added. Everything felt just right, while also being humorous, playful, and really enjoyable to listen to. I genuinely love everything he brought to the song.

Q9: “Every Second’s A Treasure” began taking shape around ten years ago, but it was only completed for this album. For you, when does a song finally tell you that “now is the time for it to be heard”?

Paige Su: I originally wrote “Every Second’s A Treasure” while I was practising the pedal harp. In the beginning, it had a more classical feel, with beautiful harp and flute parts. It was a bright, warm song about love.

I originally intended to include it on my second album. In fact, there are several songs on this album that I had originally considered for that record. But then the direction of the second album suddenly emerged, so I went on to make that album instead, and these songs stayed on my computer. It wasn’t that I deliberately wanted them to wait this long. They simply ended up here as life moved forward.

I think some songs can sit away and eventually be forgotten. But with certain songs, when you return to them, they still give you new inspiration. This was one of those songs. When I listened to the old demo again, I thought, “Wow, I wrote this riff? I really love it!”

When I originally wrote it, I hadn’t explored electronic effects that much. Later, I started wondering what would happen if I added those sounds to it. The more I experimented, the more fun it became, and Benjamin’s ideas about sound helped shape it further into what it is now.

So for me, the timing was a bit of a matter of everything falling into place. I happened to be making new music, I rediscovered this piece and found new inspiration in it, and I also happened to have something I wanted to say. It naturally arrived at the point when it was ready to be heard.

Q10: Finally, could you recommend a few songs that you personally love? They could be things you’ve been listening to repeatedly lately, or songs that have stayed with you for years. What is it about them that makes you love them?

Paige Su: The first one I’d recommend is Benjamin Lazar Davis’s “A Love Song Seven Ways.” When I first got to know Benjamin 

and was reaching out to him about producing the album, I listened through his work, and I immediately fell in love with that song.

I’d also recommend “Halloween” by his band Cuddle Magic, which I absolutely love.

The third is “Spiraling” by an artist named Tōth, who is a mutual friend of theirs. That’s another song I really love.

I think all three songs are very visual. The sounds give me a feeling that’s almost like a “soundtrack to life.” That’s also quite close to what I wanted to achieve with this album. When you listen to them, it feels as though you’re being taken back into certain images and memories. That’s why I love them, and why I wanted to recommend them to everyone.

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社恐創作歌手 13Lefty 在 9 月 4 日推出EP《悲傷五部曲》。五首歌以電子流行、Hip-hop寫一段關係裡的逃避、否認、依賴、推開與懷念；主打〈拜託你不要喜歡悲劇成癮的我〉MV 觀看已破十萬。她說，社恐的人把歌寫完，不是為了躲起來，是為了被聽見。

這張 EP 同時是概念專輯《圍城》的先行作品。標題下的法文「RÊVERIE」指白日夢、出神，以及還沒被叫醒的恍惚。五首歌先前已陸續出現在YouTube，像一頁頁深夜日記；收進同一張作品後，13Lefty 才發現，不同的人、不同的離開，問的都是同一句：「愛我好嗎？」

我在不同的時間寫下這五首歌，以為它們在說不同的感情。後來才發現，我只是替同一件事換了不同的名字，用不同的人、不同的離開方式，尋找一樣的東西。

五首歌，五種悲傷的發生方式

開場曲〈對不起我把你埋葬在海邊的紫色花海〉從逃避開始。紫色花海被寫成一段無法盛開之感情的墓地——月光、大海，以及只能在夢裡擁抱的人。她原以為，只要找到一個沒有別人、沒有明天、也不必回答問題的地方，就能和對方一起逃。

到了〈如果不愛你就好了〉，逃避轉成自我懷疑：愛上的究竟是對方，還是那個過於相似的倒影？當一個人必須透過另一個人，才能相信自己值得被愛，對方離開以後，又該怎麼回到自己？

第三首〈D4U〉把依賴推到近乎獻祭。從 I'll lie for you 到 I'll die for you，表面是義無反顧，底下卻是一次次取消自己的需要，只為換取被留下的可能。

第四首〈拜託你不要喜歡悲劇成癮的我〉整首都在說反話。嘴上是「不要喜歡我」「你應該去擁抱陽光」，沒說出口的其實是：即使我會傷害你，即使最後可能失去彼此，也請你不要走。

13Lefty 並不把「悲劇成癮」解釋成享受痛苦，而是：當痛反覆出現，就慢慢被誤認成深刻、真實，甚至被當成愛本身。

終曲〈Nostalgia〉把音量降下來。凌晨的房間、沒出現的訊息、在不同人身上重疊的舊身影，都指向同一句：“Why does it still feel like home？” 輪迴難停，未必是還愛著某個人，而是那份痛已經長成熟悉的形狀。

不給標準出口，把空白留給聽眾

《悲傷五部曲》沒有安排療癒或告別的句點。13Lefty 比較想呈現的是：一個人如何反覆逃開、依賴、推開，又走回同一種痛裡。

我沒有要在最後告訴你答案，因為我也還沒有答案。但我希望有一天，我們都不用再從痛苦和悲劇裡尋找愛，也不用靠其他人證明自己的存在。

這張 EP 最後留下的，仍是那個近乎哀求的願望——這樣的我，也可以被愛嗎？其餘沒有被說明的部分，她選擇交給聽眾，放進各自的故事裡完成。

關於 13Lefty

13Lefty 是擁有迷幻聲線的新生代創作歌手，音樂融合電子流行、Hip-hop 與 Hyperpop，把幾乎不敢出口的細膩情感寫進強烈節奏。私下深受社交焦慮困擾，卻始終想被認識、想被聽見，也想站上那座自己會害怕的舞台；詞曲、編曲、錄音到混音幾乎一手包辦，用作品把自己堆成一個聽得見的人。

害怕靠近人群的人，一直在準備上台。這一次，13Lefty 選擇先用音樂靠近你。

照片提供/ 我宅有限公司

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 中文　|　English

從「如果媽媽也寫日記」開始，邱淑蟬寫下了這張全新的 EP《無爭》。

三首作品從不同角度觸碰成長、界線與自由，也延續她對自身生命經驗的凝視。在創作裡一點一點重新認識自己，也重新理解那些曾經困住我們的東西。

這次再度與蕭賀碩合作，三首歌也在不同聲音與情緒之間展開各自的風景。從迷濛、拉扯，到逐漸鬆開，最後留下的，是一種屬於自己的生命速度。

而當我們談到「自由」時，究竟要先放下什麼，才能真正成為自己？

一起聽邱淑蟬聊聊《無爭》，以及那些關於成長、母親、客語與音樂的故事。

Q1：在介紹〈跼〉時妳說最一開始的用意是：「希望我們永遠不會因為年齡、身份、經歷，而限制了快樂的方法。」妳覺得我們是在什麼時候，開始用這些無形的框架把自己關起來的？妳最近有沒有做過什麼覺得此生無憾的快樂小叛逆？

邱淑蟬：每個人開始有偶包的時期不太一樣，時間點不太確定，但提醒我卸下偶包的契機，是在出社會後遇到的主管，我們會笑他 30 幾歲還很幼稚，他會沾沾自喜地跟我們說：「我心中住了一個 17 歲的青少年」，我很嚮往他那樣的自由自在，成熟智慧和幼稚幽默並存的態度。

八月初去馬來西亞演出，帶了 switch 不過沒多帶搖桿，為了跟大家一起窩在客廳打電動，就在空檔衝去買了搖桿，連續三天無論行程多晚都要打一兩場才睡，我覺得十年過後想起這次的演出回憶，switch 搖桿一定至少排前三，這樣印象深刻的美好回憶竟然只花台幣 2000 塊（還有一點點熬夜的肝）！

還有還有！！因為沒量好電梯尺寸，朋友送的沙發塞不進去，抱著「一起創造難忘的回憶吧」的心情，和男友把 210 cm x 91 cm x 81 cm 的實木沙發搬上 13 樓，心情好後悔又好痛快哈哈哈！

Q2：這張 EP 的創作靈感來自妳寫日記時，突然想到「如果媽媽也寫日記」。在妳動筆寫歌的過程中，有沒有哪一個瞬間，妳突然覺得自己「真正讀懂了媽媽」？

邱淑蟬：我覺得我永遠無法讀懂媽媽。她長在沒有選擇的年代，21 歲結婚、成為母親、扶養四個小孩，而我到 29 歲還能繼續探索自己的心之所向，我們小孩經常拋出「你就做自己啊」，但其實這句話對媽媽沒有意義，如果他知道他自己是誰，他怎麼不會去做呢？所以後來我決定要帶媽媽去「找自己」，去體驗他以前沒機會經歷的事情，ex：去網美咖啡廳（大笑）也許在這個過程中，我也能越來越理解她的束縛和壓抑吧。

Q3：EP 的第二首歌〈扭緪〉描寫的是自我意識萌芽，開始練習重新劃定界線。在現實生活中，說出拒絕往往是最難的一件事。淑蟬自己是在哪一個轉折點，學會了「扭緪」去向外對抗、重新安放自己？

邱淑蟬：出社會以後的成長，很大一部分來自我遇到的人，第一張專輯的製作企劃小隊：小碩、楚芳、啟原，有不足時他們願意和我說真話，並且陪伴我變成更好的模樣，我也在過程慢慢建立了對自己的信心，所以也許不是一個「轉折點」，而是「一段期間」，回頭望時才發現那個不敢與人眼神對視的幼鳥，越來越敢表達自己的聲音。

Q4：這次〈扭緪〉邀請了大象體操鼓手涂嘉欽參與編曲以及鼓的錄製。妳曾提到這是「嘉欽先給一個大概的 beat 妳才開始創作」的「節奏先行」作品。這種被強烈節奏帶領的創作初體驗，有沒有幫妳衝破那些被關起來的想像力？有讓妳在音樂裡變得更「叛逆」一點嗎？

邱淑蟬：我記得隨著嘉欽 demo 寫完這首歌的心情是「痛快」，如果是我自己出發的創作，很難有這麼明確和有力量的動態，所以確實是衝出了自己創作的限制和想像力。

Q5：從〈跼〉的迷濛、〈扭緪〉的拉扯，到〈無爭〉最後走向更開闊的自由。這次在編曲上，你們是怎麼用不同的聲音與樂器，去呈現歌曲各自的情緒與故事？

製作人蕭賀碩：

〈跼〉– 小節線模糊，說話般的人聲 phrasing，交纏的電吉他，從線性的中心軸展開，像光束一般直射，微帶光暈到漸漸放射。最後加入的鼓組用節奏伴著合唱，從迷濛走向開放，是家族一起送走父親的心境。

〈扭緪〉– 節奏組代表父母，電吉他是子女。節奏組相互配合、較量、輔助與未必按照牌理。人聲 humming 帶出歌名。最後的副歌子女大聲說出主張，減慢的鼓組是漸緩的腳步。有個架構在錄音室 jam 出來。

〈無爭〉– 跟 demo 的氛圍不同，淑蟬在老家的自彈自唱裡，我聽到不自覺的憤怒。客語跟中文的「無爭」幾乎是相反的意思，想要把這份反差做在編曲中。希望有一天作為女性生理上的、社會性的、自己給的各種束縛，尤其是媽媽們，都能像電吉他的 riff 一樣，抓住耳朵，活出自己的人生速度，跳自己的 disco，跟與生俱來的開放不一樣，那是經過淬煉跟挫折的勇敢，是能夠同理別人的自由。

Q6：經歷了首張專輯《繭的形狀》所獲得的關注，這次妳再度與蕭賀碩老師合作，兩人在錄音室裡的互動有沒有什麼改變？小碩老師這次有沒有給妳什麼音樂啟發？

邱淑蟬：我和小碩在第一張專輯後就一直保持很緊密的聯繫，很多音樂、成長、情感上的困惑與煩惱，都會想和他討論，所以當《無爭》的創作出來時，我幾乎不需要解釋，他就能理解創作背後的糾結與故事，這讓我們在進錄音室配唱時非常有效率，很快就能接到彼此的球！

Q7：淑蟬自己現在在日常生活中，如果感到被束縛時，妳有什麼專屬的方法可以分享給大家？

邱淑蟬：找個安靜的地方想些快樂的事，例如說我很常幻想，等等，我覺得我們可以說是「思考」，思考自己發票中 1000 萬，扣掉印花稅和所得稅後要怎麼分配，或是要買什麼樣的房子、怎麼裝潢，我相信心想事成這個成語是有力量的。（一臉正經講屁話）（怎麼辦在括弧打字是不是很 LKK）（但我無法控制）（光用想的就好開心）

Q8：音樂給人力量，對妳來說，客語給了妳什麼樣的力量與超能力？

邱淑蟬：在客語創作的過程中發現，原來「美濃」有屬於自己的腔調和用字，隨著和不同腔調的客語創作者交流，才體會到用母語創作已經很不容易，能保留自己家鄉的腔調更令人感動！也許有一天，我們真的再也說不到客語，但至少我用音樂留下了可以考古的聲音和記憶，只要想到這個，我就覺得自己在做一件很值得的事情。

Q9：接下來即將迎來巡迴專場演出，妳最期待在現場與歌迷產生什麼樣的連結？

邱淑蟬：如第一張專輯的願望——希望大家在某些時刻，能被我的創作陪伴到。

Q10：最後，可以分享妳最近重複播放、能讓妳感到自由的幾首私房歌曲嗎？

邱淑蟬：單依純〈我管不住我自己〉、鄭宜農〈人如何學會語言〉、Olivia Dean 〈Man I Need〉

[Interview] Shuchan Chiu on Her New EP Metamorphosing

Letting Go of Constraints, Learning to Live at Her Own Pace

It all began with the thought, “What if my mother kept a diary?” From there, Shuchan Chiu began writing her new EP, Metamorphosing.

Across its three tracks, the EP approaches growth, boundaries and freedom from different perspectives, continuing Chiu’s ongoing reflection on her own experiences. Using music as a way to gradually rediscover herself, and to better understand the things that once held her back.

Reuniting with producer Shuo Hsiao, the three songs unfold through distinct sounds and emotional landscapes. From a sense of uncertainty and tension to gradually letting go, what remains is ultimately a pace of life that belongs entirely to her.

But when we talk about “freedom”, what do we have to let go of before we can truly become ourselves?

Shuchan Chiu shared with us about Metamorphosing, as well as the stories of growth, family, language and music behind the EP.

Q1: When introducing “跼”, you said its original intention was: “I hope we never let age, identity or experience limit the ways we find happiness.” When do you think we start putting these invisible frameworks around ourselves? Have you done anything recently that felt like a small act of rebellion you’ll remember for the rest of your life?

Shuchan Chiu: I think everyone develops their own sense of self-consciousness at a different age, so I’m not sure exactly when it happens. But one person who reminded me to let go of that was a manager I had after entering the workforce. We used to laugh at him for being so childish in his thirties, and he would proudly tell us, “There’s a 17-year-old teenager living inside me.”

I really admired that sense of freedom, the way he could be mature and wise while still being childish and humorous at the same time.

When I went to Malaysia for a performance at the beginning of August, I brought my Switch but didn’t bring an extra controller. I wanted to sit around in the living room and play games with everyone, so during a break in the schedule, I rushed out to buy one. For three days in a row, no matter how late we got back, we had to play one or two rounds before going to bed.

I feel like, ten years from now, when I look back on that performance trip, the Switch controller will definitely be among the top three things I remember. It’s amazing that such a memorable and happy experience only cost NT$2,000, and a little bit of sleep!

And there’s more!! We didn’t measure the elevator properly, so a sofa a friend gave us wouldn’t fit inside. With the attitude of “Let’s create an unforgettable memory together,” my boyfriend and I carried a solid-wood sofa measuring 210 cm × 91 cm × 81 cm all the way up to the 13th floor.

I was so full of regret, but it was also incredibly satisfying. Hahaha!

Q2: The inspiration for this EP came from a thought you had while writing in your diary: “What if my mother kept a diary?” While writing these songs, was there ever a moment when you felt you had truly understood your mother?

Shuchan Chiu: I don’t think I’ll ever truly understand my mother.

She grew up in a time when there weren’t many choices. She got married at 21, became a mother and raised four children. Meanwhile, even at 29, I still have the freedom to explore what I want to do with my life.

We children often tell our parents, “You should just be yourself.” But that sentence doesn’t really mean anything to my mother. If she knew who she was, why wouldn’t she have simply been herself?

So eventually, I decided that I wanted to take my mother on a journey to “find herself”, to experience things she never had the opportunity to experience before, like going to trendy cafés. [laughs]

Maybe through that process, I’ll gradually come to understand her constraints and the things she had to suppress as well.

Q3: The second track, “扭緪”, explores the awakening of self-awareness and the process of learning to redraw your own boundaries. In everyday life, saying no is often one of the hardest things to do. Was there a particular turning point when you learned to “扭緪”, to push back against the outside world and find your own place again?

Shuchan Chiu: A lot of my growth after entering the workforce came from the people I met. The production team behind my first album, Shuo, Chufang and Chiyuan, were willing to tell me the truth whenever they felt I was lacking in some way, and they stayed by my side as I worked towards becoming a better version of myself.

Through that process, I gradually built confidence in myself.

So perhaps it wasn’t one particular “turning point”, but rather “a period of time”. Looking back, I realised that the timid little bird who once couldn’t even make eye contact with people had gradually become more willing to speak up and express her own voice.

Q4: For “扭緪”, you invited Chia-Chin Tu, drummer of Elephant Gym, to contribute to the arrangement and record the drums. You’ve mentioned that it was a “rhythm-first” song, where Chia-Chin first gave you a rough beat before you began writing. Did being led by such a strong rhythmic foundation help you break through some of the limitations you had placed on your imagination? Did it make you a little more “rebellious” in your music?

Shuchan Chiu: I remember finishing the song along with Chia-Chin’s demo and feeling this sense of “痛快”, a kind of exhilarating release.

When I start a song entirely on my own, it’s difficult to create such a clear and powerful sense of movement. So yes, it definitely pushed me beyond the limitations of my own creative process and imagination.

Q5: From the haziness of “跼” and the tension of “扭緪” to the more expansive sense of freedom at the end of “無爭”, how did you use different sounds and instruments in the arrangements to express the emotions and stories of each song?

Producer Shuo Hsiao:

“跼” — The bar lines are blurred, with vocal phrasing that feels almost conversational and intertwined electric guitars. Everything develops from a linear central axis, like a beam of light shooting straight ahead, gradually expanding with a subtle halo around it. The drums that enter towards the end accompany the chorus with rhythm, taking the song from a hazy state towards openness. It reflects the emotional state of a family coming together to see their father off.

“扭緪” — The rhythm section represents the parents, while the electric guitar represents the children. The rhythm section interacts, competes and supports one another, without necessarily following the expected rules. The vocal humming introduces the title of the song. In the final chorus, the children loudly declare their position, while the slowing drums represent their gradually slowing footsteps. The structure emerged naturally through a jam session in the studio.

“無爭” — The atmosphere is quite different from the demo. When I heard Shuchan singing and playing the song by herself at her family home, I could hear an anger that she wasn’t necessarily conscious of.

In Hakka, “無爭” carries almost the opposite meaning from the same phrase in Mandarin, and I wanted to bring that contrast into the arrangement.

I hope that one day, the various forms of constraint placed on women—physical, social, and those we impose upon ourselves—especially for mothers, can be broken. I wanted them to be like the electric-guitar riff: something that catches your ear, allowing you to live at your own pace and dance to your own disco.

Unlike an openness that comes naturally, this is a kind of courage forged through hardship and setbacks. It is a form of freedom that also allows you to empathise with others.

Q6: After the attention your debut album Shape of Life received, you’ve reunited with Shuo Hsiao for this EP. Has anything changed in the way the two of you interact in the studio? Did she give you any particular musical inspiration this time around?

Shuchan Chiu: Shuo and I have stayed very closely connected since my first album. We talk about all kinds of things—music, growth, emotional struggles and the things that worry us—so when the ideas behind No Struggle began to take shape, I barely needed to explain anything. She could already understand the conflicts and stories behind the songs.

That made the vocal recording process incredibly efficient. We could pick up the ball from each other almost immediately!

Q7: When you feel constrained in everyday life, do you have any personal method for dealing with that feeling that you could share with us?

Shuchan Chiu: Find somewhere quiet and think about something happy.

For example, I often fantasise about winning NT$10 million. I mean, we could call it “thinking”. I think about how I’d divide it up after stamp duty and income tax, what kind of house I’d buy, how I’d decorate it…

I believe there’s some power in the idea that what you wish for can come true.

[says this with a completely straight face while talking absolute nonsense]

[Wait, is typing things in brackets like this really LKK?]

[But I can’t control it.]

[Just thinking about it makes me so happy.]

Q8: Music can give people strength. For you, what kind of strength or superpower does the Hakka language give you?

Shuchan Chiu: Through creating music in Hakka, I discovered that Meinong has its own particular accent and vocabulary.

After connecting with Hakka artists from different linguistic backgrounds, I realised how difficult it already is to create in your mother tongue. Being able to preserve the accent of your own hometown makes it even more moving.

Maybe one day we really won’t be able to speak Hakka anymore. But at least I can leave behind sounds and memories through music, something that can almost be archaeologically excavated in the future.

Whenever I think about that, I feel that I’m doing something truly worthwhile.

Q9: You’re about to embark on a tour of headline shows. What kind of connection are you most looking forward to creating with your audience in person?

Shuchan Chiu: Just as I hoped with my first album, I hope that at certain moments in their lives, my music can be there to accompany them.

Q10: Finally, could you share a few songs you’ve been playing on repeat recently, songs that make you feel free?

Shuchan Chiu: Shan Yichun “I Can’t Control Myself”; Enno Cheng “How Does One Learn a Language”; and Olivia Dean “Man I Need”.

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來自台灣的四人器樂樂團 Robot Swing，由昭元（鍵盤、合成器）、聿民（鼓）、恩立（貝斯）與惟農（吉他、聲碼器）組成。9 月 28 日登上倫敦 The Grace 的舞台，與英國當代爵士六重奏 Happy Garden 及 Cosmos Zero 一同演出。這是 Robot Swing 首次來到倫敦的演出，也串起了台灣與英國音樂人之間的交流。

現場也能看到 zine.furyo 不良雜誌發送的報紙與小誌，讓觀眾在音樂之外，也能循著這些紙本作品，進一步走進 Robot Swing 的機器人宇宙。

演出由 Cosmos Zero 與 Happy Garden 先後暖場，替夜晚逐漸升溫。鍵盤手昭元此前已提前抵達倫敦，也正是透過當地的 jam sessions，與 Happy Garden、Cosmos Zero 建立起這次合作的連結。

Happy Garden 熱烈地與台下互動，甚至邀請全場蹲下齊跳，又突然引導大家開圈狂歡，讓原本只是觀看演出的觀眾逐漸成為現場的一部分。倫敦觀眾也很快投入其中，跟著音樂一起舞動，讓整個場地變成一個不斷流動的空間。

Robot Swing 也無預警地加入 Happy Garden 的即興演出，在不同音樂語言之間來回碰撞。還沒等 Robot Swing 正式登台，跨國合作的火花便已經先在舞台上發生。

接著，Robot Swing 正式登場。

開場曲〈Robot Revolution〉沒有太多鋪陳，四個人直接把音樂推向前方，充滿強烈的節奏與衝擊感。時而透過聲碼器發出機器人的宣言，搖滾、放克與爵士等元素交錯其中，節奏不斷變化，四個人的演奏像彼此丟接球一樣，自由地來回移動。

而這種「不按牌理出牌」的現場感，也很快感染了台下。

如果說前一刻的 Robot Swing 正把現場推向舞池，那麼〈Deep Breath〉則讓時間突然慢了下來。

音樂變得舒緩，團員邀請大家放鬆、深呼吸，像是進入一段短暫的冥想。這種強烈的節奏轉換，也正是 Robot Swing 現場有趣的地方：他們不只是一路把情緒推高，也能隨時改變方向，讓觀眾不知道下一秒會發生什麼。

而真正的「意外」，發生在〈Robot in No Man’s Land〉。

演奏途中，惟農的吉他突然斷弦。對許多樂團來說，這可能意味著演出必須暫停，但 Robot Swing 沒有停下來。惟農直接向 Cosmos Zero 與 Happy Garden 求援，臨時借來吉他繼續演出。

這場突如其來的小插曲沒有破壞演出的流動，反而成為當晚最令人印象深刻的片段之一。更有趣的是，斷掉的琴弦最後也沒有被浪費。惟農把它留了下來，最後送給台下呼聲最高的觀眾。原本可能讓人緊張的「當機」，最後反而成了台上台下共同擁有的一個紀念品。

對 Robot Swing 來說，現場的意外並不一定是需要避免的事情，有時候反而會讓四個人進入更即時的反應狀態。那些無法預測的變數，也正是每一場演出只會發生一次的原因。

Robot Swing 也邀請 Cosmos Zero 上台合作。帶著極具個人魅力的即興快嘴饒舌，玩味十足的表演搭配 Robot Swing 的演奏，讓現場氣氛一路推向最高點。

到了尾聲，Robot Swing 帶來的是 1979 年英國前衛搖滾樂團 Supertramp 的經典作品〈Goodbye Stranger〉。在倫敦演出這首作品，似乎也多了一點特別的意味。當熟悉的旋律透過 Robot Swing 的編制重新出現，也像是他們與這座城市的音樂文化進行了一次短暫的對話。

但觀眾顯然還不打算讓今晚結束。

安可曲〈Taiwanese Football〉再次把現場拉回熟悉的 Robot Swing 節奏。從台灣一路來到倫敦，經過不同音樂人的加入、即興、意外與碰撞，最後仍然以屬於自己的音樂收尾。

演出結束後，現場也沒有立刻散去。

不少樂迷拿著海報留下來等待簽名，團員們也親切地和大家聊天。直到場地準備關門，這台來自台灣的「機器人」才終於結束了在倫敦的一晚。

在演出前的專訪裡，我曾問 Robot Swing，什麼樣才算是一場理想的演出。

昭元的回答是：「台上台下都覺得今天這場只會發生一次，那就是最好的演出。」

9 月 28 日的倫敦，或許正是這樣的一晚。

有即興、有舞動，有意外，也真的有一點「當機」。但 Robot Swing 沒有試著把這些變數藏起來，而是讓它們成為演出的一部分。

當一根琴弦斷掉、當下一個聲音無法預測，音樂並沒有因此停止。

它只是繼續往前。

Robot Swing’s London Debut: Letting the Unexpected Become Part of the Music

On 28 September, Taiwanese instrumental quartet Robot Swing took the stage at The Grace in London, performing alongside British contemporary jazz sextet Happy Garden and Cosmos Zero.

From Happy Garden’s improvised set to the ever-shifting rhythms of Robot Swing’s performance, the night was full of spontaneous exchanges between the musicians and the audience. At times relaxed, at times intense, the music kept moving in unexpected directions as the four members responded to one another in the moment.

For Robot Swing, a live show is never simply about replaying the songs. It is about creating something together in the moment with each other and with the audience, making every performance something that can only happen once.

For their London debut, this Taiwanese “robot” left behind a night of its own in a new city.

Taiwanese instrumental quartet Robot Swing consists of ZAOYUAN (keyboard & synthesizer), FlyingPP (drums), NZ (bass), and Wei-Nong (guitar & Vocoder). On 28 September, they took the stage at The Grace in London, performing alongside British contemporary jazz sextet Happy Garden and Cosmos Zero. It marked Robot Swing’s first performance in London, while also bringing together musicians from Taiwan and the UK through music.

Also present at the venue was zine.furyo, the independent “Furyo” magazine, distributing its newspapers and zines. Beyond the music, these printed works offered another way for the audience to step into Robot Swing’s robotic universe.

The evening began with opening performances from Cosmos Zero and Happy Garden, gradually warming up the room. Keyboardist ZAOYUAN had arrived in London ahead of the rest of the band, and it was through local jam sessions that he connected with musicians from Happy Garden and Cosmos Zero, laying the groundwork for this cross-border collaboration.

Happy Garden brought plenty of interaction with the crowd, at one point inviting everyone to crouch down and jump together before suddenly opening up a circle for everyone to dance. The audience quickly joined in, turning from spectators into part of the performance and transforming the venue into a constantly shifting space.

Robot Swing then unexpectedly joined Happy Garden for an improvised performance, bringing different musical languages together in real time. Before Robot Swing had even officially taken the stage, the spark of this cross-border collaboration had already happened.

Then, Robot Swing took the stage.

The opening track, “Robot Revolution”, wasted little time with introductions. The four musicians immediately pushed the music forward with a powerful sense of rhythm and impact. At times, a vocoder gave voice to the robots’ declarations, while rock, funk and jazz intertwined throughout. The rhythm kept shifting, with the four musicians throwing musical ideas back and forth like a game of catch, moving freely between one another.

That sense of unpredictability quickly spread to the audience.

If Robot Swing had just pushed the room towards the dance floor, “Deep Breath” suddenly slowed everything down.

The atmosphere became calm and spacious as the band invited everyone to relax and take a deep breath, almost like entering a brief moment of meditation. This sharp change in mood is part of what makes Robot Swing’s live shows so engaging: rather than simply building towards a constant peak, they can change direction at any moment, leaving the audience wondering what might happen next.

The real “unexpected moment”, however, came during “Robot in No Man’s Land”.

Midway through the performance, guitarist Wei-Nong broke a guitar string. For many bands, that might mean stopping the show, but Robot Swing simply carried on. Wei-Nong called on Cosmos Zero and Happy Garden for help, borrowing a guitar and continuing the performance.

The sudden interruption did nothing to break the flow of the show. Instead, it became one of the night’s most memorable moments.

And the broken string did not go to waste either. Wei-Nong kept it and eventually gave it to the audience member who received the loudest cheers. What could have been a stressful moment of “system failure” instead became a small keepsake shared between the stage and the crowd.

For Robot Swing, unexpected moments are not necessarily something to avoid. Sometimes, they push the four musicians into an even more immediate state of reaction. Those unpredictable variables are precisely what make each performance something that can only happen once.

Robot Swing later invited Cosmos Zero back on stage for a collaboration. With his distinctive, rapid-fire improvised rap and playful presence alongside Robot Swing’s musicianship, the energy in the room reached its peak.

Towards the end of the set, Robot Swing performed “Goodbye Stranger”, the 1979 classic by British progressive rock band Supertramp. Performing a British classic in London seemed to give the moment an added sense of significance. As the familiar melody re-emerged through Robot Swing’s instrumentation, it felt like a brief musical conversation between the band and the city’s musical culture.

But the audience clearly was not ready for the night to end.

For the encore, Robot Swing returned with “Taiwanese Football”, bringing the room back to the familiar Robot Swing groove. From Taiwan to London, through collaborations, improvisation, unexpected moments and musical collisions, the night ultimately came to a close with something unmistakably their own.

The venue did not empty immediately after the show.

Many fans stayed behind with posters, waiting for autographs, while the band chatted warmly with the audience. ZAOYUAN continued greeting people until the venue was preparing to close, finally bringing Robot Swing’s first London night to an end.

In our interview with Robot Swing ahead of the show, we asked what an ideal performance would look like.

ZAOYUAN answered: “When everyone on stage and in the audience feels that this performance can only happen once, that’s the best kind of show.”

Perhaps that was exactly what happened in London on 28 September.

There was improvisation, dancing and the unexpected, and, yes, a little bit of “system failure”. But Robot Swing never tried to hide those variables. Instead, they made them part of the performance.

When a guitar string breaks, when the next sound cannot be predicted, the music does not stop.

It simply keeps moving forward.

📷 credit 土豆 Kim @take1_ dou

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