TAIPEI (Taiwan News) — Taiwanese is finding new life in pop music, reshaped by artists who refuse to let it remain in the past.
Often associated with working-class life or the nostalgia of older generations — traditional markets, scooter-lined alleyways, and the chatter of grandparents — Taiwanese, also known as Taigi, has rarely been framed as a language of contemporary pop.
But rapper Dwagie (大支) and singer Bell Chung (鍾綺) are bringing it into hip-hop and R&B, reshaping how the language is heard. For both artists, Taiwanese is deeply personal. That shared sentiment culminated in their collaborative track, “I Speak Taigi.”
Dwagie calls it a language of identity and resistance. “Taiwanese is my mother tongue,” he told Taiwan News, describing it as the most familiar part of his daily life and the voice through which he expresses local consciousness and social issues in his music.
For Bell, it is inheritance and sound, rooted in family memory and reshaped for a new generation. “I sing in Taiwanese because of my grandfather. He told me Taiwanese is our root,” she said.
Dwagie works within Taiwanese hip-hop and rap grounded in social commentary, while Bell blends Western pop, R&B, soul and jazz, hoping to make Taiwanese-language music feel more approachable for younger audiences.
Their differences in style, however, did not overshadow a shared connection to the language, which brought them together. They met at a Christmas event in Changhua, where Dwagie said they quickly realized they shared the same belief that Taiwanese-language creation matters.
After the event, Dwagie reached out to Bell to make a demo, noting that their shared vision made the process feel natural. From the outset, it was shaped by openness, with the idea to simply create a song centered on Taiwanese.
Dwagie said he wanted the song to reflect each artist’s personal understanding of Taiwanese — whether as a mother tongue, a means of communication, or a creative medium. For him, it ultimately came down to expressing love for the language.
At the emotional core of the song lies a simple refrain. “You say ‘what’? I speak Taigi.” “The line represents my persistence. I am speaking, and continuing to speak,” Dwagie said.
Bell noted that Taiwanese is a highly musical language. With eight tones, it is particularly well-suited to blending with Western genres like R&B and pop, creating contrasts that feel distinctive.
She wrote the song’s lyrics from her grandfather’s perspective, drawing on his voice and memories. “My roots run deep. You can keep trying me. Taigi is in our blood,” reflects that sense of rootedness.
She explained that the lyrics carry a tone of defiance, reflecting both personal emotion and contemporary realities, including moments when Taiwan feels pressured or constrained on the international stage. The tone, she said, is about resilience and unity.
Bell added that she often incorporates English into her music to make it more accessible to listeners who do not speak Taiwanese, helping them enter its world more easily. Dwagie added that her presence also brings an important contrast to the track, which is relatively long and dominated by male rap sections that he described as having a “machine-gun” intensity.
He said audience responses to the song have been similarly direct, with many listeners simply sharing what Taiwanese means to them. Others have taken a closer look at specific lyrics, including those of collaborator Mr. Gin.
Mr. Gin’s lyrics trace memories of hearing Taiwanese even before birth, and of childhood memories, sitting with his grandfather over tea as he listened to his stories. Dwagie said such reactions showed listeners could relate to the sounds and memories described in the song, something he found especially meaningful.
“To me, language is not just a tool for communication, but something deeply emotional, a very expressive sound,” he said. He added that he hopes the song encourages more people to use their own languages in creation, not only Taiwanese but also Indigenous languages.
Dwagie pointed out that Taiwanese has historically been associated with a stigma, sometimes seen as informal, rural, or tied to working-class occupations. However, he said that perception has been changing.
He cited examples such as Taiwan Space Agency Director General Wu Jong-shinn (吳宗信) delivering a TED Talk 10 years ago in Taiwanese, as well as high-profile figures like Nvidia CEO Jensen Huang (黃仁勳), who often speaks publicly in Taiwanese.
Dwagie said he believes Taiwanese music has already carved out a unique path, noting that many mainstream hits today are also performed in Taiwanese.
However, a contradiction remains. While stereotypes surrounding the language are fading, everyday use among younger generations continues to decline, particularly as children shift from Taiwanese at home to Mandarin in school.
Bell described similar tensions in the music industry. She said that when she first proposed making Taiwanese music after moving to Taipei, her label rejected the idea, arguing it did not “fit her image.”
She said this reflects a narrow understanding of what Taiwanese music is expected to sound like.
“I often hear traditional Taiwanese songs — especially those sung from young women’s perspectives — and they tend to feel sorrowful or resigned,” she said. “But when I bring my own uniqueness into Taiwanese music, it can give more women a sense of strength.”
Audiences are also divided. Traditional listeners may find her sound too modern, while younger listeners may avoid it simply because it is in Taiwanese.
Even so, while some listeners who previously avoided Taiwanese music are now engaging with her work, international audiences have also expressed an interest in learning the language.
For Dwagie, Taiwanese is “the sound I am most familiar with, the one I think in.” Bell described it as “home,” the most natural sound in her mind and irreplaceable.
Dwagie said he hopes Taiwanese-language creation can make more people think of speaking Taiwanese as something “cool.” Bell said the biggest challenge remains expectation — what people assume Taiwanese music sounds like before actually hearing it.
“The goal is to turn Taiwanese into T-pop, like Korea’s K-pop, giving it a distinct place in global music.”
