Month: December 2024

I recently encountered a moment of cultural and linguistic tension while working on my audio paper. I had come across the Chinese slang term “土嗨” (tu-hai) and found myself struggling to translate it. It’s not that there was no English equivalent at all—words like “rustic” or “kitschy” might come close—but none of them truly captured the layered humor, aesthetics, and cultural specificity embedded in the original phrase. The pressure I felt to make it understandable in English was a subtle reminder of an ingrained hegemony, one in which English often dominates cross-cultural conversations.

Why did I feel compelled to translate it perfectly? After all, English speakers comfortably incorporate foreign loanwords all the time—think of “karaoke,” “amigo,” “genre”—without stripping them of their linguistic identity. Yet, when it comes to Chinese or other non-Western languages, there’s a lingering expectation to mold them neatly into pre-existing English concepts. I realized that this pressure comes not just from a desire for clarity, but also from an unspoken hierarchy: English as the global lingua franca, and all other languages as supporting acts that must adjust and adapt.

This reflection brought me back to a personal experience. In the past, when speaking Chinese, I would sometimes mimic the accent of English speakers attempting Chinese pronunciation. I thought it would sound more “authentic” or “acceptable.” Looking back, it’s clear that I felt English was the benchmark, even when dealing with my own language. It’s a subtle form of linguistic self-effacement, where the speaker tries to validate their own words through the prism of English expectations.

And yet, plenty of academics and writers across Europe and elsewhere insert French, Spanish, or Italian phrases into English essays without a second thought. These languages, due to historical colonial and cultural power dynamics, have earned a certain “prestige” that allows their words to slip seamlessly into English discourse. But Chinese, with its unfamiliar phonetics and a script that doesn’t neatly fit into the Latin alphabet, is expected to assimilate or be explained away.

This experience taught me that language hegemony is about more than just communication; it’s about power, identity, and recognition. Instead of forcing every non-English term into a neat English box, why not allow these words to live and breathe in their original form? Let them carry their cultural weight and complexity. Just as we have come to accept “sushi” or “macho” or “cliché,” we can learn to appreciate and pronounce “土嗨” as it is, acknowledging that true cultural exchange doesn’t always need the crutch of perfect English equivalency.

土嗨: A slang term used to describe a style of grassroots, low-budget, and often humorously unrefined electronic dance music. It’s characterized by simple, repetitive beats, “noisy” effects, and a raw, unsophisticated energy that contrasts with polished mainstream music.

土味: Literally “earthy flavor” or “rustic taste,” this phrase has come to mean something that feels kitschy, unsophisticated, or tacky. “土味” is often used to describe aesthetics, behaviors, or cultural products that are seen as lowbrow, unrefined, or cheerfully outdated, yet can also carry a quirky charm.

社会摇: Translated as “society shake,” it refers to a distinctive, viral dance style popularized on Chinese short-video platforms. Often performed to energetic electronic music (including 土嗨), it involves exaggerated body movements, arm gestures, and a carefree, rebellious attitude that reflects a grassroots or subcultural identity.

喊麦: Literally “shouted wheat,” this term describes a style of spoken or chanted performance over simple electronic beats, somewhat akin to rap but delivered in a louder, more declamatory style. Originating online and in rural or small-town nightclub scenes, 喊麦 often emphasizes rhythm and oral performance over lyrical complexity or melody.

I feel really struggled to edit and write the whole outline. As a niche and kind of weird phenomenon in China, I was not able to find resources in English about it; or I’d say, would this study in English indigenous enough to be look at. I didn’t mean to be racist or whatever, I could only find less than 20 essays on this topic in Chinese and this can already indicates people are not aware this to an extent!

However, I still managed to get this 2.0 version of the draft, which includes most quotes I will be referring to. I kept it bilingual because I realised that “土嗨” is not the only word that is hard to translate. There’s so much more slang in Chinese that can only understood under certain video context. I think I might do my next blog as a video glossary, so that English speakers can get to know it.

1. Introduction (2 minute)

• Defining “土嗨”: The word “土” originally means “earth” or “soil,” but in slang, it refers to something rustic, kitschy, or unrefined. “嗨” (literally “high”) denotes a state of energetic excitement, particularly in music and dance. Together, “土嗨” translates loosely as “grassroots high-energy electronic music,” characterized by its unpolished, lively energy. （“土嗨”文化在原有的乡土叙事、猎奇狂欢的基础上加之游戏化和复制化的意味,着重以视频的形式呈现。“土嗨”最早为电音界词汇,最初是指那些将“电子音乐”错误叫成“DJ”的群体,他们不知道DJ只是职业不是音乐风格,把电音错误叫成DJ②。后开始指制作粗糙,节奏不变,质量低劣的电子音乐。20 1 7年开始,以快手、抖音为主阵地,“土嗨社会摇”席卷网络,受到众多社会青年追捧,成为一种独特的文化现象。在土嗨社会摇的观看群体中,有很多网友并不认可其价值观,却又被“土嗨”深深吸引。（p7））（《民族主义》）
• Cultural Parallels: Similar to how the term “cheugy” in Western cultures captures an aesthetic that’s perceived as outdated or overly enthusiastic, “土” evokes an appreciation—or ridicule—of the unpolished, exaggerated, and eccentric. “土嗨” embodies this vibe in music, often seen as both charming and amusing. (As reported by Taylor Lorenz at the New York Times, “cheugy” is a term used to describe an aesthetic that is somewhere between basicness and cheesiness, or anything that seems hopelessly out-of-touch or trying too hard. )
• Genre or Phenomenon?: There’s ongoing debate on whether 土嗨 should be defined strictly as a musical genre, a broader cultural trend, or simply low-quality, hastily produced electronic music. While its sound borrows from global electronic dance styles, its identity is unmistakably tied to its “earthy” Chinese origins.

2. Features of 土嗨 (1.5 minutes)

• 土的原理：

• verbally：To juxtapose two vastly different things without any attempt at blending or integration, and to forcibly piece them together or distort them, creates a striking and disjointed contrast that strips the combination of structural meaning. This sense of absurdity or peculiarity is what gives rise to the feeling of being “土”.（b站晓龙）
• In practice: 土嗨 music features syncopated off-beat basslines, heavy 4/4 rhythms, playful staccato plucks, and infectious dance drum patterns, typically set at a BPM of 130–140, matching the natural heartbeat for effortless dancing. Its remixes often ignore the original song’s emotion, relying on sped-up tempos, excessive grooves, and mismatched kick drums to create a louder, more chaotic, and exaggerated sound. This straightforward approach prioritizes energy over subtlety or cohesion.（Tutorial on making any song “土”）
• 在旧曲改编中，商业流行曲以 “去噪”的方式制 造出 “本真性”幻觉，土味歌曲则利用 “增噪”制造出宛若音乐现场一般的幻觉。不同的编码方式都使得旧曲原有的现实意义被撤销，歌曲变成了在短视频内部自嗨的空壳式氛围音乐。（摘要）

3. Origins& Influences (4.5 minutes)

• “土嗨” has roots in two primary genres: 

• Melbourne Bounce: Explain that Melbourne Bounce originated in Australia in the early 2010s. Known for its bouncy basslines, repetitive beats, and energetic feel, it serves as a precursor to 土嗨 by offering the catchy, straightforward structure that defines the genre.
• Italo Disco/ Eurodance: Introduce Italo Disco, which originated in Italy in the 1980s. Known for its upbeat tempos, synthesizer-driven melodies, and European electronic influences, Italo Disco laid a foundation for dance music with simpler structures and infectious hooks.

• 土味文化:

• 1990s: Bootleg remixes of foreign disco and electronic music dominated disco halls, catering to an all-night dancing crowd. Lay-offs and economic shifts led to the rise of grassroots entertainment, where this music thrived.
• 2000s: The rise of 喊麦 (shouted rapping), duos like Phoenix Legend, and the phenomenon of square dancing in public spaces solidified the genre’s mass appeal.
• 2010s: Platforms like Bilibili and Kuaishou popularized remixes and meme-worthy electronic tracks.
• 2020s: Short-video apps like Douyin (TikTok in China) brought 土嗨 to mainstream popularity through viral remixes and DJ-style short clips.

• “土味”（与单纯的“土味”文化不同的是,“土嗨”类文化多带有二次加工的属性,对文本及视频的二次加工群体通常为带有圈层属性的青年粉丝群体,或是加入“土嗨”狂欢的普通青年网民,甚至出现了专业生成技术型视频剪辑的团队。他们带着“交作业”的心态不断模仿和复制视频文本,或是创作剪辑出不同类别的鬼畜视频作为解压方式,为“土嗨”文化现象输送了文化活力。这使得“土嗨”文化已从进行元文本创作的底层群体中弥漫扩散,产生了去边缘化的趋势。（网络民族主义视角下“土嗨”文化现象研究，p12））
• Social Context： 

• Carnivalesque(“土嗨神曲”追求的土味价值观念 ，与大多数现代人日常追求的美丽、时尚、精致 的生活是相背而行的。这种亚文化在表演形式、穿衣风格、价值观念的表达上都与主流文化相去甚远 ， 显示出了浓重的乡土、粗糙气息 ，这种自降“格调”的风格即是对主流审美的颠覆性挑战。从深层次来 说 ，土味文化的出现和衍变本身 ，便是对客观现实 的反叛和颠覆 ，是边缘群体对主流文化的消解和 抵抗。（p90）《狂欢》）
• Marginalized expression and dissolved meaning after excessive commercialization and symblolization: 后现代主义强调尊重差异性和个性，倡导多元并存，主张对权威话语的破除和对传统的颠覆，反叛性和消解性是后现代主义的典型特质，而网络土味文化正是在后现代主义思潮空前涌动的社会语境下蓬勃发展的。一方面，那些曾经被主流所忽视的社会底层人民有了发声的渠道和途径，摆脱了失语状态的他们热衷于通过短视频和直播平台进行自我表达，小镇青年们生产的一系列土味视频大多布景随意且内容粗鄙，无厘头的夸张展演实质上是对传统文化和精英文化的嘲讽和反抗，他们依靠技术赋权来传达自己所在群体的价值观念，企图冲击主流一贯秉持的审美范式，以此来扩大土味亚文化群体的话语权和文化影响力。（p34）网络土味文化有着明显的后现代主义倾向，从广泛传播的土味视频来看，大部分内容模板化和同质化严重，词不达意的低俗背景音乐、重复单一的机械性动作、莫名其妙流行的“土味梗”和“土味语录”等，都有着碎片化和浅薄化的特征，文化的深层次意义被消解。文化的内容生产失去对意义和内涵的重视，只在乎感官刺激从全网掀起学习“郭语”的热潮到席卷社交媒体平台的“抖肩舞”、以及渗透到日常生活交流中的土味表情包，众多网友们在跟风模仿的过程中形成文化模因，进一步促进网络土味文化在不同平台的病毒式蔓延。然而热衷于网络土味文化的受众并不在乎这一亚文化本身的价值和实际意义，他们只是为了消遣和娱乐，打发空虚无聊的时光，单纯追求一时的快感和当下的享受，最终陷入一场无意识和无意义的群体狂欢，网络土味文化在大众狂欢的过程中不断演变发展，内容的呈现方式也越来越多样化。（p35）（《后亚文化》）
• Decentralization and depoliticization tendency：土味文化爱好者的文化实践呈现出明显的去中心化和去政治化的后现代特征，他们用无厘头的方式来表达自己对生活的期许和对社会的看法，不再关心主流的政治和历史话题， 对国家的发展现状和存在的社会矛盾也无心探讨，没有明确的抗争对象和目标。摒弃了一本正经又严肃正统的宏大叙事，没有所谓的国仇家恨，而是将更多的精力放在个体生活为主的微小叙事中， 沉浸在自己的一方小天地里自娱自乐。土味视频的评论区和土味直播的弹幕上总会出现“哈哈哈哈哈哈，好好笑”的留言，“快乐就完事儿了”的行动逻辑不是他们困境的解药，而是一种逃离宏大叙事的“致幻剂”。 １同时也是土味亚文化群体面对社会现状却无力改变时的一种消极应对方式，这些土味青年们并不在乎自己生产和传播的文化内容是否有正面积极的意义，而是为了自娱自乐和消解无聊时光。（p27）(后亚文化视角)

• 短视频时代听力模式的改变：
• 根据 《2021 年中国音乐营销发展研究报告》中的调查数据，短视频 平台已成为当下“推歌”最有效的媒体渠道1。先 “刷到”，再 “听到”，即音乐以短视频中背景音 乐的姿态，通过数十秒的片段被人感知，再被按图索骥式寻找全曲，这成为人们聆听音乐的新方式。（p152 引用：1小鹿角智库: 《2021 年中国音乐营销发展研究报告》，2021-06-02，第 38 页，http: / /mp.weixin.qq.com/s/rg1ahNH0hPa8- slb4fqrxA，访问日期: 2021-10-18。）而在短视频中，音乐的主导权被推向了极致。短视频的吊诡之处在于，虽然影像具有独立的意 义，无需背景音乐也能够完整呈现，但实际赋予影像意义的，恰恰是音乐。不难发现，抖音、快手上的短视频仿佛具有一种 “背景音乐强迫症”。不少人习惯发布不带音乐的视频，多为走秀、换装、卡 点等，并请求网友为其添加音乐。而音乐响起后，原本平平无奇的作品立刻变得 “高大上”起来。4该例并非要说明音乐的神奇功效，而是说，人们执着于相信音乐的强大魔力。甚至，对于不需要使用背景音乐的视频内容，也要为其搭配一定的曲目。这一点在新闻资讯类短视频中尤为明显。新闻报道需要公正客观，有些此类短视频发布者则为其发布的新闻配乐。这可能会导致新闻在被呈现时本身带有一定的情绪与态度倾向。换言之，这些新闻的意义也许不是事件本身给予的，而是被背景音乐提前规划好的。（p154）在此，笔者大胆提出，重视短视频中音乐的作用，并非在音乐中重新发现短视频，而是在一定程度上，短视频本身就是通过音乐被 “发明”出来的。音乐形成的声音秩序，构成了短视频主流意识形态法则。换言之，一种由音乐生发的幻觉，让人的行为、语态顺从于其规则，进而控制人的表现行为 ( 不得不说，抖音、快手上的短视频仍以真人出镜表演为主) 。那么，为何音乐会在短视频中占据如此主要的 地位?（p154-155）（元宇宙）背景音乐实际上构成了齐泽克 ( Slavoj Žižek) 笔下的 “预先假定”( positing of presuppositions): “无论我们做什么，我们重视将其放入一个更大的符号的上下 文当中，在这一上下文中，我们的行为被赋予了意义。”6（p154；引用：斯拉沃热·齐泽克: 《延迟的否定———康德、黑格尔与意识形态批判》，夏莹译，南京大学出版社，2016 年，第 184 页。）
• 吊诡之处也在此，尽管土嗨歌曲能够让人尽兴释放自己的表演欲望，它却制造了一个内向的表演空间。伴随着土嗨节奏，人们在抖音中的表演行为，大多只是一个人的表现，占据着6英寸的手机屏幕，通过剪辑和合成技术来实现最终效果。很少有超过3个人的表演活动。尽管会获得成千上万的点赞与评论，但这些表演也不存在真正的现场观众。换句话说，这种空间和现实有着明确的区隔。实际上，抖音里的卡点、手势舞或者各类“摇”，稍微触碰到现实，就会表现出巨大的格格不入感。不妨说，土嗨歌曲所营造的表演空间，是一种近乎纯粹的“自嗨”，它拒绝一切除表演主体外的现实进入，只是在屏幕之前享受无脑的表演快感。甚至可以说，土嗨歌曲都不能当做广场舞的背景音乐。这也正是土嗨所传达的内涵——无意义的音乐，刨除现实的自嗨。对这种音乐的“上头”，实际表现着大众的心理症候。（知乎：新京报书评周刊）只要进入短视频 App 之中，每个人都可能成为在精致美好的幻觉中肆意进行无意义狂欢的主体。实际上，短视频在无形中创造出了一种 “元宇宙”( metaverse) 的虚拟现实效果。这里的元宇宙，并非指通过计算机 技术与生物技术形成的强大算力，让人们以“虚拟化身”的形式生存在数字世界的技术图景，而是单在形式上指人们在现实生活中创造的与周遭现实环境隔绝的虚拟世界。（p159）

• 沿着现象学路径，有学者强调音源的重要，也即声音的“在场性”。这能够追溯至法国哲学家笛卡尔的“我思故我在”——当整个世界的自明性已经被笛卡尔普遍质疑之时，只有意识的在场，才能够证明这个世界的存在。而声音，正是意识在场的证明。法国学者德里达在《声音与现象》中便宣称：“作为意识的在场的特权只能够……特别通过声音被建立。”声音变成了精神肉身存在的证明，当某个地方发出声音时，就仿佛有一个活的意识在那里，与我同在，与我共行。然而，当前流行音乐的基本存在形式，则是“非在场”，也就是说，没有一个实际的真声肉嗓担当音源，声音以模拟信号或数字信号的形式发出，它们变成了脱离音源的独立存在。法国学者贾克·阿达利在《噪音：音乐的政治经济学》中将机械复制时代的音乐特征称为“重复”，唱片和音乐能够将声音通过技术手段复制到几乎每个人的手中，我们打开耳机或音响就可以收听到一模一样的歌曲。这样的情形下，声音不再是表达意识在场的独一无二的存在，而是变成了一种工业产品、一种商品，一种可以被编辑的对象。电子音乐先驱皮埃尔·费舍尔就认为，声音的非在场其实是件好事，它能够减少声音各种外在因素的扰乱。不需要考虑声音从哪里来，到哪里去，而是专心聆听声音本身。这相当于给演奏者拉了张帘子，只听声音。由此声音变得纯粹起来，形成“纯粹的声音”。这种思路被称为“还原聆听”（reduced listening）。（新京报书评周刊）

4. Why is 土嗨 popular today? (3 minutes)

• 音乐人采访：

• 存在即有价值
• 审美不足及审美观念落后
• 服务于“最广大的群众”知乎https://www.zhihu.com/question/32757596/answer/2296221779（音乐人的评价）
• Litterzy: “大家对土嗨有不一样的需求，但最后呈现出来都在消费它”

• 万物皆可DJ：电音易于让人接受的优势在于，它并非自然发出的声音，而是电子设备 “后天制造”的。不得不承认，声音并非一种纯粹由发声体规律振动产生的物理现象，而是一种文化意义上的经验性存在。 外部世界与声音对象之间必然有着联系，人们对何种发声体会发出何种声音也有一定的预期认知。现 象学领域称其为声音的 “残余意义”3 ( residual signification) ——— “黄梅戏就应该用戏腔唱，不应该用夹子音唱” 就是黄梅戏散发的残余意义。但是，电子设备制造的电音，无法让人们产生任何经验性认知，也就让声音的残余意义彻底丧失，经验在电音面前变得失语。因而，当 《黄梅戏》儿歌式 的唱法不断引起争议时，电音版本却能够被听觉主体轻松接纳。电音产生了本雅明维度上的惊颤” 效果，而这也是 “万物皆可 DJ”的基本原理。1（p158；引用1见王楷文: 《为何越来越多的人，沉迷于“万物皆可DJ”?》，“新京报书评周刊”公众号，2021-09-09，https://mp.weixin.qq. Com/s/P7WbCn_nXb43T47ydzubsw，访问日期: 2021-10-16。）
• Auditory Hegemony（connecting “土” to mid-age/old/less educated people, eventually forming the ugly aesthetics culture）Young people especially generation Z considers it as a way of defying dominated culture: subculture. (巴赫金在文中还多次提到狂欢中的笑是双重的 ，既是欢乐又是讥讽的 ，既有处于节庆中的诙谐、 兴奋 ，也是对身边狂欢众人的冷嘲热讽。人们从“土嗨神曲”的“土味”“傻嗨”中获得天然的快乐 ， 又在互动参与中以嘲讽和戏谑的态度来彰显自己的品味 ，既鄙夷又乐在其中 ，这就意味着狂欢中人们的娱乐性也是两重的。（p90）)
• Thus, generation Z has developed a sense of subcultural rebellion. 土嗨 challenges mainstream aesthetics. Its rural, rough-around-the-edges feel defies the polished, glamorous ideals of modern life.
• 土嗨 is widely used as background music for motivation. Due to its high-energy beats, people use it as a kind of “boost for energy,” particularly when doing repetitive or tiring tasks. In a way, 土嗨 becomes a “modern work chant,” as it keeps workers or young people energized, whether at home, the gym, or even during road trips. By promoting positive energy and endurance, 土嗨 has become a way to power through challenging activities with humor and liveliness. (抖音)
• while seemingly simple and accessible, 土嗨serves a broader social function:as a uniting force, bringing people together in shared spaces, whether physical or digital, to celebrate and laugh （埃里克斯与舒尔茨曾认为,“尽管人们谈话时没有节拍器,但人们交谈本身就可以作为一个节拍器。③”大众在线上和线下的互动中都会建立不同的节奏,使得互动的内容专属于互动空间内。在“土嗨”视频中,魔性的电音节拍成为享受“土嗨”人群的互动节奏,当听到音乐响起,会做出身体反应自动“嗨起来”;或是在听到某一特定词汇时下意识做出特定意义动作。在互动的过程中步调一致,进而达到情感一致。“土嗨”文化内容通过趣缘群体书写符号达成的意义空间,群体内部在互动的过程中聚焦情感能量,加强集体的共识感与认同感。（p21））（《民族主义》）

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Conclusion

土嗨 is more than just a genre of music. It’s a cultural phenomenon, a symbol of grassroots resilience, and a playful critique of mainstream aesthetics. While its unrefined style may invite ridicule, it also offers humor, energy, and a sense of belonging. By embracing its quirks, 土嗨 has carved a unique niche in China’s musical and cultural landscape, reminding us that sometimes, imperfection is what makes something truly enjoyable.