STUPID POP SONGS [Music] Apple Music Douban Spotify
release date 2025-04-15
publisher:
2025 偉大文化有限公司 GREAT Entertainment LTD.
/
2025 偉大文化有限公司 GREAT Entertainment LTD.
“Being in the music industry for over 25 years inevitably makes you question your place in the current landscape,” David Tao tells Apple Music. “I think anyone, regardless of their profession, asks themselves at some point: Do I still matter? In a business fuelled by youth, trends and pop culture, the search for relevance, freshness and authenticity becomes a constant battle.” Arriving 12 years after his previous studio effort, <i>STUPID POP SONGS</i> sees the artist confronting the technical and temporal challenges of today’s cultural environment with a blend of nostalgia for his formative influences and curiosity about new developments like generative AI. Behind the self-deprecating title, Tao applies his genre inventiveness to everything from ’70s folk rock and ’80s glitz to fusion experiments like a hip-hop-tinged cover of Teresa Teng’s classic “A Thousand Words” and the guzheng-meets-Babyface vibe of “Forever Penny”. At turns sentimental, canny and whimsical, the album is anything but stupid.
Below, David Tao shares with Apple Music the genesis of selected album tracks.
<b>“Stupid Pop Song”</b>
“The word ‘pop' has carried a mixed reputation across generations. ‘Pop art’ in the ’50s and ’60s, for example, blurred the lines between ‘high’ and ‘low’ art, challenging the establishment and redefining what creativity could be. That spirit got me thinking about how I approach making music today.
“With today’s technology—AI, generative tools and endless software—music and art can be created with a few simple prompts, crunching data into something that resembles creativity. But can data feel? Can its soul be stirred to tears when it hits a specific note and lyric in a song? Can it capture the heartbreak, the nostalgia, the joy we try to express? If art and music are now so easily generated by machines, does that mean what we do, as humans, is obsolete? Is our work just noise? Just another stupid pop song?
“I hope you find the human elements in these tracks—the flaws, the soul, the sincerity. And, full disclosure: Yes, a little help from the machines was involved.”
<b>“Moonchild”</b>
“I came of age in the 1980s, a time when pop culture left its imprint on everything—music, fashion, design, visual art and advertising. It wasn’t just an influence, it was a force that shaped who I am. Decades later, its spirit still echoes through my work. ‘Moonchild’ is a tribute to that world, a kaleidoscope of new wave, psychedelia and eclectic sounds.
“I set out to resurrect the textures of that era—the thunder of big gated drums, the wail of soaring sax solos, the shimmer of analog synths that once defined a generation. Horns and saxophones, once the soul of records from the ’60s through the ’80s, have grown rare in the modern sonic landscape, but here, they return in full technicolour glory. Some may label it city pop but, for me, it’s something more. It evokes neon-lit streets, the allure of midnight glamour and the electric buzz of urban indulgence. It’s a sound steeped in nostalgia—yet still unmistakably of the now.”
<b>“On My Way”</b>
“Some of my most unforgettable journeys have been those long hours spent driving on the open road. Road trips give me the space to clear my mind, soak in the beauty of the world and reconnect with music in a deeper way. There are certain songs that feel tailor-made for the road—songs that carry a sense of motion, of speeding forward, of leaving worries behind. I hope ‘On My Way’ becomes one of those songs for you, a companion that gives you the strength to move on, let go and keep pushing forward with courage and a sense of adventure.
“Abe Laboriel Jr.’s staggered, march-like drumming captures the rhythm of a journey—its stops, starts and steady persistence—while the guitars lift the song into a feeling of flight and liberation. Even though there’s always a trace of sadness in leaving the familiar behind, there’s also hope—hope for new beginnings and the infinite possibilities waiting on the other side. Embrace life’s endless turns, and you’ll find yourself rewarded with both love and strength.”
<b>“Always Here”</b>
“This song began as a compositional experiment: Could I write two nearly symmetrical melodies, one in a minor key, the other in a major key? I wasn’t concerned with whether it would be easy to sing, arrange or perform live. I simply wanted to satisfy a personal challenge as a composer. The process turned out to be unexpectedly rewarding. Goh Kheng Long created a lush, cinematic orchestration that beautifully echoed the song’s duality, while lyricist Kevin Yi wrote words that reflected the same mirrored emotion and tone.
“I decided to feature the theremin as a centrepiece of the introduction. Known for its eerie, otherworldly sound, the theremin has appeared in countless classic recordings and experimental works. Here, its ghostly tone felt like the perfect way to open the track, especially when set against the orchestral backdrop and harpsichord. This was one of the final—and most technically challenging—tracks I recorded for the album. But I hope it’s the kind of song that lingers in your memory, echoing long after the music stops.”
<b>“From Dust to Dust”</b>
“I remember being around 12 when Taiwan’s folk rock scene still loomed large, especially among college students and those navigating their late twenties to early thirties. It was an era where intricate acoustic guitars met raw, intimate vocals—songs that spoke of daily life, societal concerns and personal reflections, all wrapped in poetry. One song that captured that spirit was ‘Dust In the Wind’ by Kansas, a 1977 classic that struck a universal chord. Every guy in the neighbourhood, especially those in the school guitar club, was either playing it or trying to master its mesmerising fingerpicking pattern. I remember thinking how powerful it felt to be able to do something others couldn’t. That song—and that feeling—was one of the reasons I first picked up a guitar.
“While working on this album, I told myself I wanted to return to those roots. To write a song carried by a single guitar, a melody that stirs the soul and lyrics that cut to the core—asking what it all means in a world so tangled and fast-moving. ‘From Dust to Dust’ is just that. The lyrics, penned like a piece of poetry by Francis Lee, paint a world stripped down to its bones—a quiet, almost utopian desolation. The Celtic-tinged violin, the austere choral voices singing in unison and the minimal instrumentation invite the listener to reflect. To pause. To consider what kind of footprints we leave behind as we move through this fragile world.”
<b>“A Thousand Words”</b>
“The version of ‘A Thousand Words’ you’re hearing now was only completed six months before release. I had been working on an earlier arrangement for over a year. Built around the electric guitar, it was slower in tempo and had a down-tempo neo-soul feel. That version had a sensual, chill vibe, but ultimately, it felt too lethargic and lacked the energy or commercial appeal I was hoping for. Letting go of it wasn’t easy, but I eventually decided to start over and rework the song into the more hip-hop-inspired version you hear today.
“Interestingly, this is the only track on the album where I handed over all arrangement duties to someone else. Bryan Tay and I have toured together for years, and as I got to know his playing style and creative instincts more deeply, I felt confident this was something he could really make his own.
“Covering a classic is never easy, especially when the melody, lyrics and original feel are so deeply ingrained in people’s minds. Adding something new requires both imagination and risk. I wanted to create a new hook, something that could lift the listener emotionally and take the song somewhere unexpected. At the same time, I had to respect the spirit and structure of the original. This pursuit of ‘finding something new within the old’ is something I also explored with ‘The Moon Represents My Heart’, ‘Longing for the Spring Breeze’ and even ‘Susan Said’. Whether or not I succeeded with this updated take on a Chinese pop classic, that’s for you to decide.”
<b>“Forever Penny”</b>
“The verses of ‘Forever Penny’ were originally sung in falsetto. The key in the early demos was B-flat, whereas the final version you hear now is in D—a full four semitones higher. The original idea was for the verses to feel soft and fluid, like water, carried by the delicate quality of falsetto. However, after a couple of years, when the lyrics were finally written and I recorded a new demo, I realised it was incredibly difficult to sing the lyrics in that falsetto range. I raised the key to C, which allowed me to sing the verses in a lower, natural voice. But this meant the chorus was low in my range, where there was no energy. The other solution was to raise the key once more—to D. This made the verses more comfortable, but the trade-off was that the chorus now sat right at the first break in my vocal register, which can be awkward and challenging to sing. These kinds of trade-offs are part of making music. Sometimes, you can’t have everything in the most ideal place; you have to make compromises to serve the overall balance of the song.
“‘Forever Penny’ is also special to me because it was the first time I wrote all the Chinese instrument parts myself: erhu, dizi and guzheng. In the past, many of these parts were written by Goh Keng Long, but I wanted to take on the challenge this time. I have a decent knowledge of these instruments and really wanted to try my hand at arranging them. If there’s one thing I wish we could’ve done differently, it would be re-recording the string parts in the final key of D, instead of pitch-shifting them up four semitones. But doing that would have delayed the release—and I didn’t want to keep Penny waiting any longer to hear the song I wrote for her.
“I also spent quite a bit of time shaping the electric piano sound. It was inspired by one of my musical heroes: Babyface. His iconic electric piano tones and playing style helped define R&B in the ’80s and ’90s, and they have always been a kind of mystery to me. Trying to recreate a bit of that magic was one of the most fun parts of this process.”
Below, David Tao shares with Apple Music the genesis of selected album tracks.
<b>“Stupid Pop Song”</b>
“The word ‘pop' has carried a mixed reputation across generations. ‘Pop art’ in the ’50s and ’60s, for example, blurred the lines between ‘high’ and ‘low’ art, challenging the establishment and redefining what creativity could be. That spirit got me thinking about how I approach making music today.
“With today’s technology—AI, generative tools and endless software—music and art can be created with a few simple prompts, crunching data into something that resembles creativity. But can data feel? Can its soul be stirred to tears when it hits a specific note and lyric in a song? Can it capture the heartbreak, the nostalgia, the joy we try to express? If art and music are now so easily generated by machines, does that mean what we do, as humans, is obsolete? Is our work just noise? Just another stupid pop song?
“I hope you find the human elements in these tracks—the flaws, the soul, the sincerity. And, full disclosure: Yes, a little help from the machines was involved.”
<b>“Moonchild”</b>
“I came of age in the 1980s, a time when pop culture left its imprint on everything—music, fashion, design, visual art and advertising. It wasn’t just an influence, it was a force that shaped who I am. Decades later, its spirit still echoes through my work. ‘Moonchild’ is a tribute to that world, a kaleidoscope of new wave, psychedelia and eclectic sounds.
“I set out to resurrect the textures of that era—the thunder of big gated drums, the wail of soaring sax solos, the shimmer of analog synths that once defined a generation. Horns and saxophones, once the soul of records from the ’60s through the ’80s, have grown rare in the modern sonic landscape, but here, they return in full technicolour glory. Some may label it city pop but, for me, it’s something more. It evokes neon-lit streets, the allure of midnight glamour and the electric buzz of urban indulgence. It’s a sound steeped in nostalgia—yet still unmistakably of the now.”
<b>“On My Way”</b>
“Some of my most unforgettable journeys have been those long hours spent driving on the open road. Road trips give me the space to clear my mind, soak in the beauty of the world and reconnect with music in a deeper way. There are certain songs that feel tailor-made for the road—songs that carry a sense of motion, of speeding forward, of leaving worries behind. I hope ‘On My Way’ becomes one of those songs for you, a companion that gives you the strength to move on, let go and keep pushing forward with courage and a sense of adventure.
“Abe Laboriel Jr.’s staggered, march-like drumming captures the rhythm of a journey—its stops, starts and steady persistence—while the guitars lift the song into a feeling of flight and liberation. Even though there’s always a trace of sadness in leaving the familiar behind, there’s also hope—hope for new beginnings and the infinite possibilities waiting on the other side. Embrace life’s endless turns, and you’ll find yourself rewarded with both love and strength.”
<b>“Always Here”</b>
“This song began as a compositional experiment: Could I write two nearly symmetrical melodies, one in a minor key, the other in a major key? I wasn’t concerned with whether it would be easy to sing, arrange or perform live. I simply wanted to satisfy a personal challenge as a composer. The process turned out to be unexpectedly rewarding. Goh Kheng Long created a lush, cinematic orchestration that beautifully echoed the song’s duality, while lyricist Kevin Yi wrote words that reflected the same mirrored emotion and tone.
“I decided to feature the theremin as a centrepiece of the introduction. Known for its eerie, otherworldly sound, the theremin has appeared in countless classic recordings and experimental works. Here, its ghostly tone felt like the perfect way to open the track, especially when set against the orchestral backdrop and harpsichord. This was one of the final—and most technically challenging—tracks I recorded for the album. But I hope it’s the kind of song that lingers in your memory, echoing long after the music stops.”
<b>“From Dust to Dust”</b>
“I remember being around 12 when Taiwan’s folk rock scene still loomed large, especially among college students and those navigating their late twenties to early thirties. It was an era where intricate acoustic guitars met raw, intimate vocals—songs that spoke of daily life, societal concerns and personal reflections, all wrapped in poetry. One song that captured that spirit was ‘Dust In the Wind’ by Kansas, a 1977 classic that struck a universal chord. Every guy in the neighbourhood, especially those in the school guitar club, was either playing it or trying to master its mesmerising fingerpicking pattern. I remember thinking how powerful it felt to be able to do something others couldn’t. That song—and that feeling—was one of the reasons I first picked up a guitar.
“While working on this album, I told myself I wanted to return to those roots. To write a song carried by a single guitar, a melody that stirs the soul and lyrics that cut to the core—asking what it all means in a world so tangled and fast-moving. ‘From Dust to Dust’ is just that. The lyrics, penned like a piece of poetry by Francis Lee, paint a world stripped down to its bones—a quiet, almost utopian desolation. The Celtic-tinged violin, the austere choral voices singing in unison and the minimal instrumentation invite the listener to reflect. To pause. To consider what kind of footprints we leave behind as we move through this fragile world.”
<b>“A Thousand Words”</b>
“The version of ‘A Thousand Words’ you’re hearing now was only completed six months before release. I had been working on an earlier arrangement for over a year. Built around the electric guitar, it was slower in tempo and had a down-tempo neo-soul feel. That version had a sensual, chill vibe, but ultimately, it felt too lethargic and lacked the energy or commercial appeal I was hoping for. Letting go of it wasn’t easy, but I eventually decided to start over and rework the song into the more hip-hop-inspired version you hear today.
“Interestingly, this is the only track on the album where I handed over all arrangement duties to someone else. Bryan Tay and I have toured together for years, and as I got to know his playing style and creative instincts more deeply, I felt confident this was something he could really make his own.
“Covering a classic is never easy, especially when the melody, lyrics and original feel are so deeply ingrained in people’s minds. Adding something new requires both imagination and risk. I wanted to create a new hook, something that could lift the listener emotionally and take the song somewhere unexpected. At the same time, I had to respect the spirit and structure of the original. This pursuit of ‘finding something new within the old’ is something I also explored with ‘The Moon Represents My Heart’, ‘Longing for the Spring Breeze’ and even ‘Susan Said’. Whether or not I succeeded with this updated take on a Chinese pop classic, that’s for you to decide.”
<b>“Forever Penny”</b>
“The verses of ‘Forever Penny’ were originally sung in falsetto. The key in the early demos was B-flat, whereas the final version you hear now is in D—a full four semitones higher. The original idea was for the verses to feel soft and fluid, like water, carried by the delicate quality of falsetto. However, after a couple of years, when the lyrics were finally written and I recorded a new demo, I realised it was incredibly difficult to sing the lyrics in that falsetto range. I raised the key to C, which allowed me to sing the verses in a lower, natural voice. But this meant the chorus was low in my range, where there was no energy. The other solution was to raise the key once more—to D. This made the verses more comfortable, but the trade-off was that the chorus now sat right at the first break in my vocal register, which can be awkward and challenging to sing. These kinds of trade-offs are part of making music. Sometimes, you can’t have everything in the most ideal place; you have to make compromises to serve the overall balance of the song.
“‘Forever Penny’ is also special to me because it was the first time I wrote all the Chinese instrument parts myself: erhu, dizi and guzheng. In the past, many of these parts were written by Goh Keng Long, but I wanted to take on the challenge this time. I have a decent knowledge of these instruments and really wanted to try my hand at arranging them. If there’s one thing I wish we could’ve done differently, it would be re-recording the string parts in the final key of D, instead of pitch-shifting them up four semitones. But doing that would have delayed the release—and I didn’t want to keep Penny waiting any longer to hear the song I wrote for her.
“I also spent quite a bit of time shaping the electric piano sound. It was inspired by one of my musical heroes: Babyface. His iconic electric piano tones and playing style helped define R&B in the ’80s and ’90s, and they have always been a kind of mystery to me. Trying to recreate a bit of that magic was one of the most fun parts of this process.”
