Beijing Residence: The Finger-Picking Trickery Of Residence A

Gou Zhaozhao can play his guitar upside down, but he doesn’t do it to show off. He wouldn’t brag or take it for granted, because precious few things have come easily for the frontman and rhythm guitarist of alt-rock troupe Residence A — a band that has gained one of Beijing’s quickest and most devoted cult followings, along with various best band gongs in 2012. They’ll perform at 2 Kolegas on March 8, showcasing songs from a new album slated for release this spring.

That success is sweetened thanks to years of bitterness. Gou’s father died when he was a boy and his mother, an apple orchard farmer and amateur Chinese Opera singer, raised him in a tiny Hebei village a few hours north of Beijing. As a teen, Gou longed to become a musician himself. But when he was working on a paper factory assembly line, to save money for a better guitar, disaster struck – the mechanical steel knife that diced the tissue rolls swung down too quickly, biting into his left index finger.

“It felt like I was watching a gory kung-fu movie, it happened so fast I was detached from it at first,” Gou says during a rehearsal break at Residence A’s studio in Beijing’s eastern Tongzhou suburb. He holds up his left hand, to show how his former pointer is now a blunted stub that ends at the second knuckle. “We have an old Chinese saying that the index finger is linked to the heart. I was afraid I’d never play again.”

That desperate fear ended up being the push he needed — Gou left his band in small town Hebei, packing his bags for Beijing. Along the way he learned how to play his old guitar upside down, and eventually saved up enough for a right handed axe while working at a musical instrument shop. He even gained enough confidence to mentor one of the shop’s frequent customers — a young teen named Xiao Bing, who would go on to play lead guitar in Residence A.

Bing was no stranger to struggle. He dropped out of middle school to find work and fund his brother’s tuition fees. Then he snagged a gig as a security guard, despite his scrawny frame and the fact that he was underage.

“It was illegal, because I was only 15 at the time,” he said, adding that the risk didn’t feel too thrilling or burdensome. “I just walked the nightshift rounds, it wasn’t very challenging. But I was happy to do it and support my brother — he had the brighter future, and I hated going to school anyway.”

Between shifts he and Gou practiced at the music shop, impressing each other so much that they decided to form a band. They posted an online ad that was soon answered by bassist Chen Shao and drummer Cheng Bo, both of whom were dropouts — the former from university, the latter from his marching drummer gig in the People’s Liberation Army.

Their sacrifices and setbacks were different, but each member joined Residence A knowing music was their last resort. Xiao Bing relished that camaraderie during their stagnant early gigs, the worst of which featured only one person in the audience, but he adds with a laugh: “It wasn’t heartbreaking, because we soon realized it wasn’t just one person. He also brought his dog to come see us play.”

Gou agrees, adding: “The most important part of our audience is us. When we perform, all our focus is on the three other people. We play for each other.”

Residence A will perform at 2 Kolegas on March 8.