Opposition Party was one of the pioneering punk bands in Singapore, so what does punk means to you?
Back then I didn't want to conform to what the norm of Singapore society was, which was a lot more stifling than it is now. Now, while Singapore is still very strict and the environment is still very restrictive, it’s already much better than it was in the 80s. Now if I tattoo my whole face and walk around, people might just stare at me. But back then, even if you had one tattoo on your finger, you’d be identified as a gangster because the consensus at that time was that only people in gangs had tattoos.
So to be punk was just to kick back against conformity, against society and all its norms. I felt that I didn’t belong, I didn’t fit into the rest of society so I wanted to look different. A tiny tattoo, spiking up my hair, wearing shirts with holes, torn jeans, boots, maybe a jacket with too many patches - that gave me my own identity and it was how I showed myself to the rest of Singapore. Being punk was about expressing how I felt about society back then, and how I didn’t want to be part of it.
That’s basically how punk started everywhere. It’s how it started in the U.K - they just didn’t want to be part of the larger, conforming society.
Now punk is part of normal society, it’s so different now. What was weird back then, you can just buy from H&M now.
What was the music scene like back then? Especially since punk didn’t exist before your band in Singapore.
Myself, I didn’t idolise any punk bands. That’s another part of being punk, you do not idolise the punk band - you go out there and be your own punk band. So I made my own music and it was very difficult especially when there weren’t any other punk bands that I knew of. Back then, the music scene was made up of leftover bands from the 70s because I think rock music was kind of banned or heavily restricted in the 70s, and the music scene basically died out. In the 80s, whatever was leftover were cover bands playing in pubs and lounges. So it was difficult for us because our gigs would get stopped halfway because the police would come and shut us down. I’ve played shows where the venue owners would cut off the electricity because he said we were worshipping Satan or something. There was a lot of misunderstanding because people didn’t know what to expect of our music, and like back in the 70s, heavy metal music was associated with devil worshippers and others would assume the same from our music.
What about your personal life? What did your parents, or your family think?
Parents back then, and even now, weren’t that supportive of the arts. And I get it. It's like, comb out the spikes in your hair. When are you going to take the colour out of your hair? Can we buy some normal clothes for you? I dropped out of school because I just couldn’t stand being there. I just wanted to serve National Service (NS), get out, and then do what I wanted to do. It was my dream, to live life my own way.
I felt a lot more like an outcast back then. Right now everyone is chill. You can have tattoos on your neck, your face, and it’s not that big a deal. But back then, it was quite extreme. To the point where people would ask us to step outside for a fight because they thought we looked different. We had policemen trailing us when we were walking outside because they assumed we would be up to no good. In hindsight, there were four of us in spikes and studded jacket, so maybe someone might have called the police on us. But yeah, even if it’s better now, the feeling of being an outcast has not left me. I still think I’m an outcast.
Back in the 80s, was there any stigma against being a musician?
There was definitely that thought of if you play music, you’ll have no future. Unless you were one of those cover bands I mentioned earlier, and you landed a regular gig playing popular music because when people go for a drink, they want to listen to covers of popular music. That was probably the highest you could go in terms of having a career as a musician. Also, punk rock in the 80s was so new and still wasn’t really widely accepted in parts of the world where punk rock was already thriving. For me, I was struggling to make ends meet because I didn’t want a normal job because it meant that I had to cut my hair and wear normal clothes. So I had to look for jobs that involved manual labour - being a store man, a delivery man.
I would work eight hours in the day, then forget about it and become myself at night and go for jam sessions, play gigs, plan my next release.
How different is punk culture in Singapore than it is to its Western counterparts?
The basic foundation of rebelling against society is the same everywhere and that’s where punk exists. But you cannot import the meaning of punk wholesale, it’s adapted to whatever you’re rebelling against. The punk I got into originated from the U.K - they were working class folks and their struggles with Singapore’s working class in the 80s were very different. So I mean you can import the fashion, the sound, but what we’re hitting back against and what they’re hitting back against are totally different.
Tell us more about Opposition Party, what’s up with your band name?
Right okay, we didn't talk about politics, back then, talking about politics openly was really scary. In fact, having the name ‘Opposition Party’ really gave us huge problems. Promoters just refused to print our full band name for fear of the police coming back. We had to change our band name to ‘OP’ on a lot of our gig flyers - so that’s why we’re more known as ‘OP’ than ‘Opposition Party’ because we didn’t actually use our full band name back then.
For punk, once you get into it, it becomes your way of life. I’m not sure if it’s that way for other genres, but you’ll always have punk in you, you won’t grow out of it. I can’t imagine waking up and not being able to play in Opposition Party. So that’s the fuel that’s keeping OP alive right now, three decades, on to a fourth. With a band, I make my own music, I create my own releases, (before the pandemic) I do my own tours, I go anywhere I want to play. We’re not world famous but wherever we go, whatever small town, we still draw crowds - so that itself is very satisfying to me.
What was your experience with censorship, especially with a band name like Opposition Party?
Back then, I always had to say that we were not interested in politics. Every interview we did, I had to emphasise that there was nothing political in what we were saying. Our music did touch on politics, but only in a general sense. But even then, we had to submit lyrics every time we played a gig. For me, yes, I’ll probably make a bigger splash without censorship, but what’s the point of me playing a show, getting arrested, then not being allowed to play shows anymore?
What were the things that resonated with you in punk that you wanted to express through music?
Our music was quite aggressive. Even if we were to just sing nonsense, it was already a statement back then because of all the cover bands and Blues bands, our music stood out because like woah, what is this guy doing? Is it just noise?
I don’t really focus that much on lyrics because I was selling an attitude and that attitude came from the rejection of society. And if looking different made me a bad person, then I wanted to show that, “Okay, I’ll be a bad person then.” It wasn’t like punk in the U.K because a lot of them were very political, very anti-government and anti-authority. For us it was just an emphasis on the noise we were making and creating, and how different we looked from everyone else. Lyrics never played a big part in the first version of OP.
So if I say ‘fuck’ in a song, it’s like fuck everyone, not just the government. I was more upset at normal people than the government.
Making music and earning money, how was it like?
I was definitely not earning money. Definitely wasn’t earning money.
How about the media’s portrayal of punk back then, and how has the internet and technology changed Opposition Party and yourself?
I think the media framed us as a novelty. It was a strange time, so it was very surprising that they would give us big, front-page spreads and stuff. But yeah, it was a novelty to them because we looked different. We were colourful, and I just kind of went along with the flow because we didn’t have internet back then, so I couldn’t go online and say like, “Fuck the mainstream media.”
Now with the internet, I can utilise new media and spread word about the band. In the 80s, we had to physically meet to talk as a band, gel with each other, write music together. There was no goddamn Photoshop to deal with, so there was a lot of sweat and work when it came to designing and releasing our own music on cassette. And when new music is finally released and someone actually listened to it and bought it, it’s like woah, we did this. We’re spreading the band’s name.
But now? The three of us don’t even need to meet physically. You can record music in your own house, on your phone or whatever. We just need to meet to have photos taken together - shit, that part is covered too now. The music scene now, it’s just not punk rock anymore. It’s become just another thing to play with, there’s no meaning behind it anymore.
So you feel like the essence of punk has lost itself along the way.
Yes. Although there are many old-school bands, or even new bands that choose to remain underground. So no internet presence, maybe playing underground shows and stuff. These are the true punks. But for Opposition Party, it’s been like decades, so it’s difficult to go back to exactly what we were.
Did your goals change over the years, especially with talks of being signed to a label?
Up until the early 90s, we definitely chose to remain underground. Even though we did have media coverage, we didn’t care. But then came a label called Springroll - a sub label of a major Japanese label Pony Canyon. It was in the first half of the 90s when they started to sign many underground bands, including us.
So if you want to talk about us “selling out” by being signed to a major label and such, yeah, we kind of went through that phase too.
What made you guys sign to a label then? Was there a turning point?
It was for our music to reach more people. Unlike the U.K or the U.S, or even Japan, where the underground scene is so developed - like you can just exist within the ecosystem and still make it big without committing to the mainstream. In Singapore… I realised that it was either Opposition Party dies out in a couple more years because we didn’t have much internet back then, or use this major platform, get signed, then get more people to listen to us.
It’s similar to my decision of self-censorship. It’s my form of self regulation and I looked at the situation around me decided to make the best choice for the band.
With self-censorship, and even signing to Pony Canyon, were these trade-offs worth it?
I have not regretted making those decisions. We had those articles written about us because of it, and because of the increased exposure, we were eventually able to perform at rock festivals in Korea and Taiwan. We played all these big shows in the early 2000s, it took a while, but that’s how we spread our name without the internet. So I got the coverage to reach out to more people, and it achieved what I wanted. Similar with getting picked up by the label.
As Opposition Party grew, did you have to change your music, make it more palatable?
The music itself didn’t actually change. It actually got much heavier. Mainly because the more we played, the better we got. When we started out, we were raw and basic but then our songwriting just started becoming more complex and heavier. And that was why in the 90s, we were known more as a metal band than a punk band before I decided to move the music back to punk again.
So Baybeats has become a space for people to find out more about the underground scene, aspired towards local bands. What are your feelings towards Baybeats?
I don’t recall if there are other rock festivals or huge music festivals in Singapore. And I think Baybeats is the only one that has the spirit of supporting local artists and bands to express themselves. I mean, it’s not The Substation but you know those art instalments that The Esplanade puts up all the time? I think that’s great support because this is a mainstream place and your art is getting scene by members of the public.
This written interview was edited for brevity and clarity. Due to the nature of the topics discussed, this interview will not be available as an audio recording.