Will [6.80] billion do?
[Video]
[6.80]
Michael Hong: “So what is this I’m feeling?” Julia Wu asks, switching to English in the middle of the song’s chorus. But right before the question is even posed, she answers it herself: “七十亿分之一的感觉” (“the feeling of one in seven billion”) she sings, or better yet, that stupid, irrational, and impossible feeling of being the only one in the world. That’s what liking someone is like, isn’t it? That feeling when your mouth moves faster than your mind and you stumble over your words. The overwhelming, confusing sensation when you can blurt out a million different things in a slightly more foreign language, almost grasping at something close to an answer, but get tongue-tied in your native one. That’s what “七十億分之一” (“One in Seven Billion”) was, a temporary little crush. It was the creeping feeling that you might actually like someone, the dizzying, head-in-the-clouds feeling that you might want something more, of confessing your feelings at 5 in the morning because you stayed awake turning them over in your mind all night. But on its cleverly-titled remix, “七十億分之一加一” (“One in Seven Billion Plus One”), infatuation turns into a trap. “Already fell in love,” SHOU raps and it’s clear that these aren’t just the one-off feelings of attraction but the part where like starts to bleed into love. With SHOU grounding things, everything seems to sink a little bit deeper — that beat hits a tiny bit harder, the piano keys twinkle a little bit brighter, and Julia Wu somehow sounds all the smoother. Attraction feels inescapable. 七加一 indeed.
[8]
Wayne Weizhen Zhang: Even as a Chinese person who loves all different kinds of non-English music, I’ve always had difficulty getting into Mandopop. I don’t know if it’s the CCP’s censorship of more risqué music, the fact that I haven’t found one artist that I genuinely love as an entry point, or my own internalized racism, but something about Mandopop tracks always sound a little off to me. “七十億分之一加一” is yet another example: there’s nothing wrong with the underlying pleasantness here, but the overall tune (especially the rap) still has an unduly cutesy tone that makes me feel like this should appear in a car commercial. I vow to do more exploration and introspection in 2021.
[5]
Crystal Leww: Chynahouse was the Mandopop label that seemed to generate (the tiniest bit of) buzz in the West in 2020. Mandopop is largely inaccessible to outsiders, so it makes sense that Chynahouse managed to achieve these outcomes on the backs of ambitious projects by two women who largely grew up in Australia. Kimberley Chen and Julia Wu were both prolific — Kimberley with her 31-track Princess Tendencies and Julia with 5 pm, 5:30pm EP, and countless one-off singles — and both made music that finally established identities for themselves — definitely Chinese, distinctly themselves, but easy-to-make comps with Western pop stars. Kimberley’s album was the best Ariana Grande album to have come out this year. Wu’s approach was cinematic and dreamy and her raspy voice lent itself to Lana Del Rey comparisons. Like Lana, the dramatics are not necessarily felt in the aesthetics of the song. On “七十億分之一加一,” the production feels like easy lounge music, and Julia’s own vocals don’t vary themselves too much either. Instead, it’s all about what is being said. For all the “you are one in a million” types of lines in music that result in…er, lots of soulmates after all when you take into the account the world’s population, Wu decided that she was going to be very precise – this is about her one in seven billion love. This feels like a cross-faded whisper, a need while fucked up off of cheap white wine, a vape pen, and half a pack of American Spirits to let her object of affection to know exactly how she feels. I admire the vibe, but like all the times I’ve been at this party at the end of the night, I just wish that I was more excited by how it sounded.
[6]
Taylor Alatorre: My woefully literal mind asks, “Why ‘one in seven billion’ when the world population is closer to eight billion and is projected to reach that by 2023?” The obvious answer is that this is a pop song and not a World Bank report. But this choice of phrase is not insignificant. It anchors the song to a specific point in time rather than some mythic romantic dimension, and it underlines the role of contingency and chance in bringing two people together. Julie Wu isn’t singing like someone who knows in her bones that she’ll still be in love with this person in three years, and the fluttering lite-funk arrangement provides the perfect backdrop for luxuriating in the uncertainties. Shou’s verses accentuate this groundedness by revealing the guy on the other end to be an impatient horndog, which thankfully ends up dissolving into Wu’s breezy headspace rather than dislodging it.
[7]
Dede Akolo: I am a sucker for this kind of pop music/RnB mix. It has all the ingredients: catchy quantized drums, Casio remake keys, fluttering guitar lines, and a solid yet delicate voice floating above it all. I say that I am a sucker because this type of song is everywhere and can be replicated quite easily. No one said that a good replica can’t exist. What I like the most about this, however, is the video. The music video completely oozes charm, style, and humor. A twist on the “Stalking for Love” trope that pervades many movies and TV shows is brilliant. Even the technological inconsistencies (why does the love interest have AirPods while the protagonist only uses film cameras and old camcorders) fill me with such joy. It’s a delight to watch.
[7]
Ian Mathers: I know bringing in the video too much is potentially a faux pas, but in this case it was such a fun, silly watch (as long as you’re willing to leave the actions therein strictly as farce) that it either elevated a pretty lightweight song for me, or made a pretty good song seem that much lighter in touch.
[7]
Thomas Inskeep: Deliciously swoony, late-summer-y, dusky R&B with a guest rap that actually sounds right contextually. (I love the sound of SHOU’s rapping voice, too.)
[7]
Katherine St Asaph: The chords and chimes of the first few seconds primed me for Madonna’s “Borderline”; the rest, while loungey and pleasant, by comparison was bound to disappoint.
[6]
Andrew Karpan: The woozy, woozy, woozy downtempo R&B ballad sounds fresh when it’s sung by Prince and when it’s sung by heartbroken Canadians but Julia Wu’s voice finds ways to jazzily inflect outside the lines, a kind of confidence that’s stirring, even inspirational. The bars from the Taiwanese rapper SHOU that come on the remix feel drowned out by the very intensity of Wu’s original delivery in a way that, itself, feels fittingly romantic, almost sensual.
[7]
Austin Nguyen: There are summer mornings when you wake up without having to rub the grogginess out of your eyes, when all you need to get out of bed is the slightest scrunch of your toes, your hands, your shoulders…and an exhale to blow the clouds of dreams away. The water kisses your fingertips at a cool refreshing temperature before you wash your face with it, and the birds aren’t chirping; they’re smiling in their brightest tones. Outside, the sun has embraced the Earth with its rays the same way people hold fireflies or snowflakes in their palms: an open and gentle warmth, held safely without suffocation. Leaves seem to rustle hello as a breeze passes through them; lawn patches become another sky to fall into, glimmering infinities of green and gold to get lost in as the sun paints them in light. On your walk over to the local boba shop, you catch the eyes of people passing by with their drinks, people you don’t even know, and wave to them; this day is so perfect, you’ve become *gasp* social. But nothing feels as magical as the stranger standing in front of you in line, someone with just the right build, just the right height, and (they turn around for some reason; you look away after catching a glimpse so they don’t see you blush) just the right face, apparently. This person has become a piece of art: Look, but don’t touch; and take photos of them when no one else is looking to send to your friends. It’s dumb and impossible, but you imagine the whole nine yards with them anyways: picnics in the park, Wet Darcy in the Rain (or The Notebook, if that’s more your thing), trope after trope after trope. Of course, you don’t actually make a move; this can’t possibly be fate, and they’re probably way out of your league, you think. But however small this moment in time might be, it doesn’t stop you from hearing that fairy dust sprinkled in your daydreams and the choruses or the strings that seem to dance and skip on the sidewalk right beside you on your way home. Just be sure to catch one last glimpse before they go; who knows when this day will come again?
[8]