Someone once said that every city has its own 'sound'—a sound that immediately comes to mind when you think of that city. For example, when you think of New Orleans, what comes to mind is jazz music; Seattle brings to mind the rawness of grunge music; and Manchester is often linked with the distorted guitar sounds of legendary British bands.
However, there's no right or wrong answer to this since it's not set in stone. It might depend on who answers the question. For instance, if you ask about the 'sound' of a city closer to us, like Chiang Mai, the answers from foreigners, Bangkokians, Chiang Mai locals, and people from nearby provinces are likely to differ.
The answers from outsiders who have eventually become Chiang Mai locals—such as 'Fender' Thanaphol Chumkhammool, the frontman of Solitude is Bliss and the project owner of View From the Bus Tour, and 'Earng' Suphakarn Varinpramote, the founder of the music media called TEMPO.wav—both agree that the sound here is unique and has been passed down from older generations to younger ones until it becomes an outstanding characteristic of the city. The main factors involved are the city's tourism and entertainment industry.
In reality, it’s challenging to define what the sound of this city is or what music in Chiang Mai truly represents. However, if one has to define it, Fender’s response is: "I see the music scene in Chiang Mai as just naturally making a living. That's how I see it."
My Hometown: The story of Chiang Mai through music and conversations
Last May, Fender and four other friends who are creative individualists (Mean, Luan, Ice, Yorch) launched a project called My Hometown Session. The project aims to convey the essence of Chiang Mai from their own perspectives through music and conversations. It is based on ambitious trial and error, with the vision that every hometown should have a platform to tell its own story through music and relaxed conversations.
Fender: The real beginning was a bit rough (laughs). I was about to launch View From the Bus Tour as a full band and was looking for ways to promote it. The easiest option was to record a live session, but I was bored with just a normal live session. The character of View From the Bus Tour is that when I perform solo, I usually tell many stories during the show. Lately, it has started to engage with social contexts. As a result, the audience becomes more immersed, both in the music and these issues. Some people who once thought these issues should be separate from music or found politics boring now understand how everything is connected when we share from our own experiences and they relate it to their own.
I wanted to use this format in the live session as well, so I decided to do a session with conversations in between. But I wouldn’t be telling the stories alone, so I invited friends who are activists to join the discussions. We created dialogues together with Chiang Mai as the context because it is where we can speak most freely. Since it was filmed at home and the conversations are with friends from Chiang Mai, we thought it made sense to call it 'My Hometown.'
Once this concept found its way to promote the band, I felt it could also make an impact on the Chiang Mai community. Since the issues we discuss are related to social topics, we thought about seeking advice from Earng and others to see if we could add more to the narrative.
In the first episode, we raised questions based on ourselves. But for the following episodes, the topics would keep changing. For example, we asked why we can’t thrive in our own home, enrich it with culture, create opportunities for work and money, and why we can’t settle down financially in our own home. The answers might relate to structural issues and centralized power.
Earng: My Hometown is a project that involves both a show and a tour, which requires a lot of team members. What impressed me the most was the crowdfunding campaign. We raised over 200,000 baht, and most of the contributions were from ordinary people. It was clear that people are willing to hear the message Fender is trying to communicate about the music ecosystem, and it also inspires others; other bands might want to do something like this as well.
Fender: I think it’s because the supporters had already seen our efforts to address these issues. Previously, talking and making music were always separate, but this project merges the two in a very tangible way.
Earng: In terms of the message, it also meets the objective because even the sponsors who supported us are from Chiang Mai.
Fender: As for the fans, the contributions came in bits and pieces—some 20 baht, some 100 baht, some 1,000 baht, according to their capacity. People might feel that if this model can be successfully implemented in Chiang Mai, it could become a role model for their own communities, at least within Thailand. Once people saw us starting, they wanted to help.
Earng: Fender already has his own fan base. For newer bands, they might need to rely more on campaigns and analyze their audience to uncover stories they want to tell. It’s about figuring out what you want to communicate. In an ideal world, everything would be a major phenomenon, but in reality, it’s not that easy.
Chiang Mai Indie Scene: From OG to NOW
When talking about the sound of Chiang Mai in the indie music scene, it’s impossible not to mention ‘No Signal Input.’ This group of Chiang Mai musicians came together in the early 2000s to create a free musical space for Chiang Mai artists to make music their own way. They paved the way for indie music fans of that era to discover bands like Migrate to The Ocean, Sapap Supap, Harmonica Sunrise, and even Skarangers, which is now known as Polycat.
Fender: It might be the first community of its kind, at least in the new era. We don’t know if there was something similar before, but 'No Signal Input' was the first group that gathered people who made original music outside of a label, simply trying to come together and work, finding places to perform.
Back then, original music was a phenomenon. Media wasn’t as open as it is today; platforms like TikTok didn’t exist. That's why people in the city were excited when Chiang Mai bands made music, held events, or did their own shows. As a result, the industry grew bigger, and new artists began writing their own songs. However, the rise of social media led to greater freedom but also scattered interest. Over time, people shifted more to the online world and became less excited about offline events like they used to.
In reality, I think there were two major turning points. The first was the 2014 coup. In Chiang Mai, many thriving or rising bands had to pause because of tough economic conditions. The second was COVID-19, which was even more disruptive than the coup because we couldn't do anything. The aftermath of COVID-19 brought significant changes, especially in how people listened to music in person. For us, it’s not just the younger generation that changed; even adults did.
For example, young people who grew up with online classes during COVID-19 had to build their identities on online platforms, which made them miss out on real-world experiences. After the pandemic, these kids are excited about meeting people in person, hanging out with new friends, and enjoying live music. On the other hand, it’s us adults who have forgotten and neglected these spaces.
Earng: It's hard to say whether the situation is better or worse now, but we feel that the Chiang Mai music scene has never stopped. Even if 'No Signal Input' is no longer around, there will always be passionate people who will keep this culture going. During COVID-19, Fender created a group called StereoSapiens, which was driven by people who had a sense of ownership and wanted to prevent Chiang Mai from becoming silent. I believe this can pass through generations.
Additionally, the music culture in Chiang Mai has such a diverse approach. People go to bars, attend music events, and after the band finishes playing, they continue to hang out together or jam after the venue closes. This helps bridge the gap between listeners and the host, allowing the music scene to grow.
Fender: Live music venues are crucial for this industry to grow, because everyone benefits from them. Performers get gigs, audiences get to watch, and the venues or spaces hosting the events get to host them. The essential requirement is that these venues need to provide a place that allows music to reach people directly from the performers, making the audience feel like: "Shit! It has to be this extreme? Look at the groove, the finger movements, the teamwork, the vocals, and the blood vessels on their necks." By making audiences appreciate more than just the composition or arrangement, it helps them appreciate the creative work itself. This can complete all aspects of music appreciation.
Listening to an audio track alone doesn’t offer this experience. It’s like comparing seeing a piece of art online with seeing it in an exhibition where you can closely observe its texture, color thickness, and even the dust on the brushstrokes. The difference is clear. Music is the same; live performances offer the genuine experience that digital formats can’t replicate.
In Chiang Mai, even though music venues might not have extensive functions, their advantage is how easy it is to move from one place to another. It’s a matter of the city's convenience. In Bangkok, for example, you might need to take a taxi or transfer between buses and the subway, which can be tiring just to think about.
For a music city to grow, it starts with the ecosystem
There have been numerous projects aimed at transforming cities in Thailand into "music cities," initiated by the government, private sectors, or even local musicians. However, if we think of a city that has successfully achieved this goal to date, we might struggle to come up with an answer or be unable to say it with certainty. Ultimately, what’s more challenging than creating a music city is addressing the deepest issues within the "music ecosystem" of that city. Without fixing these foundational problems, no project can achieve sustainable growth, regardless of the financial resources invested.
Fender: We can start by asking what people in that city are listening to. If you ask what people in Chiang Mai are listening to these days… they’re listening to music from TikTok (laughs). Just like everywhere else in the country. This platform is in everyone's hands and has been shaped by the pandemic. People are not expecting excitement from other platforms, so they turn to the entertainment within the app. We can’t really expect that putting music into a normal online format will directly resonate with people in Chiang Mai.
We need to discuss the ecosystem within Chiang Mai. We need to ask if the ecosystem has everything it needs. For example, large, proper music venues are almost nonexistent. There are only small to medium-sized spaces, and I’m not counting pubs here—there are none at all. The closest thing is Muan More Space, which has a capacity or size close to what you’d call a proper live house, but it still lacks some functions.
In my view, live houses are very important. Bars don’t allow people under 20, who are the most eager to absorb cultural experiences. Consequently, more than half of the potential audience can’t access live music. They have to wait for free events or events that allow younger people to participate. Live houses are important because they are open spaces without age restrictions and can host performances anytime. For example, Chiang Mai Original can play during the day, and kids can attend.
Earng: For something simple like folk music, it could be performed anywhere. But even so, having a venue with the right equipment might provide a sound experience that you haven’t heard before from the artist.
Fender: What Chiang Mai still lacks is a lot of know-how, such as in producing, mixing, and mastering. The attitude is not well taught, and the technical knowledge is still incomplete.
Earng: Also, there’s no artist relations (AR) similar to a manager or artist caretakers, nor is there artist management.
Fender: Not to mention, there are no factories for pressing records, CDs, tapes, or anything like that in Chiang Mai. Everything has to be sent elsewhere for production. It would be great if there were a standard record-pressing factory in Chiang Mai.
Are there any solutions to these problems, or are there people who are thinking about starting to fix them?
Fender: Let me talk about Town Hall. My Hometown will be just one part of the effort to improve the music community in Chiang Mai. But if we consider the bigger picture, Earng will be responsible for building and developing the network.
Earng: It’s like we’re facilitating conversations among people because we’re not the only ones in this ecosystem. And the problems in this ecosystem aren’t just one-dimensional. We need to identify what the shared problems are, whether they're happening with organizers, sound or production crews, or music venues.
There are five main categories of shared problems:
- Marketing: How artists market themselves and how live music venues market themselves. Every sector faces this issue.
- Funding and financial challenges.
- Management: In reality, there isn’t much know-how regarding management, which is why projects usually start and end quickly rather than becoming long-term projects.
- Education and Upskilling: We’ve identified a lack of certain skill sets and technical knowledge.
- I don’t remember yet, will tell you when I do (laughs). But the focus right now should be on marketing. To promote the city's strengths, we need to first understand what the city has to offer.
Fender: In the same context, I want to elaborate on the impact of the death of Ake (Aekchai Tepraksa or Aek Wild Sax). It highlighted how people could come together. Ake was someone who knew so many musicians. Even people who may have had conflicts or weren’t close still knew him. His funeral had thousands of attendees, that’s more than a member of parliament.
The village volunteers said they had never seen a funeral with so many people before. About two weeks later, there was a memorial concert where friends performed and talked about how if Ake hadn’t died, we wouldn’t have seen such a gathering. It made us question what Chiang Mai's community is and why we can’t come together. It leaves us with questions like, "I've seen that guy for so long, how can I not know him? We all live in Chiang Mai. I even remembered and nodded to this bearded guy when I drove past him, but we don't really know each other."
So, we realized that although we have artists and venue owners from different eras, and there have been ongoing efforts to build the community, it keeps fading away. Looking at models from music ecosystems in cities like Portland or elsewhere, we see that ecosystems consist of many factors. The five categories Earng mentioned are indeed missing elements here.
This highlighted the shared pain points for the first time. It made us realize that the music industry isn’t just about musicians and venue owners; it’s only a fraction of the entire ecosystem. So, we started looking for ways to create understanding, maintain work in the remaining areas, and find what could bring everyone to the center.
Earng: As for marketing, first we need a database of the city’s ecosystem to know what Chiang Mai’s music scene offers. It’s like creating a portfolio for the city. For example, Chiang Mai Original has been organizing a festival called ‘Chiang Mai Ho’ since the COVID-19 period. The reason we have such a large database is that they began collecting information early on, allowing it to connect. We aim to make it intricate, including categories beyond just artists, such as sound engineers and venues. This way, anyone who wants to organize a small festival can find out where to host it and at what cost.
When outsiders from Bangkok come to organize festivals in Chiang Mai, does it help develop Chiang Mai’s music scene?
Earng: It varies. For example, with festivals like Chiang Yai, they import artists from other places and hire Chiang Mai bands as well. This helps the local music scene economically. Events like Cat Expo, which are held in Chiang Mai, also improve the city's reputation. But...
Fender: It's not sustainable because it ends there. It doesn’t create a strong community. In the past, we had a biased view that events organized by outsiders in Chiang Mai felt like colonialism and questioned why Chiang Mai couldn’t host its own festivals. But in the end, it’s our own issue. When we let others organize these events, they become theirs, not ours.
Chiang Mai is just an introduction to music cities across Thailand
Fender and Earng believe that it’s not only their group and Chiang Mai’s local music community that are ambitious. Every province has people who dream of seeing music flourish in their own region. They are both confident that it is entirely possible to have "music cities" throughout the country. Any province can have its own unique sound, and musical development needs to spread beyond Bangkok and major cities.
Fender: Basically, it’s about money. If there were more money circulating, for example, if a musician could buy a Fender guitar after just two weeks of playing or save up to buy one while working as a dishwasher, that would be an obvious improvement. We believe that if people can afford instruments or courses to improve their skills, it would create better opportunities for the city.
Earng: But we can't increase wages until we create value for people to see first, which comes from consistent promotion of the marketing culture.
Fender: I think growth relies not only on internal factors but also on attracting external ones. This isn't just about hoping that people come to visit and then return to Bangkok; it needs to become a destination in its own right.
Earng: For example, if artists tour Southeast Asia, they might want to include a route that stops here. But right now, we don’t have the power to negotiate because there aren’t enough venues here. Let's say Thom Yorke were to visit (laughs); if there’s no deal in Bangkok, why not come to Chiang Mai instead? He could fly from Chiang Mai to Bangkok, Vietnam, or Singapore. So, why shouldn’t this be a stop on his tour?
Fender: I think that using music as the key factor in Chiang Mai isn't just beneficial for the city itself but also for the entire Thai music ecosystem. I feel that if Chiang Mai succeeds someday, other places like Khon Kaen, Korat, or Hat Yai might follow.
Even with live houses, Even though the music ecosystem isn't yet strong, with live house in the picture, it has the potential to change the culture. We need a spot for folks starting bands, or just thinking about jamming with their freshman buddies. It gives them dreams that one day, they have to go play at this live house. “Right at my freaking home!”
At the end of the day, from the perspective of those in power, I think that at the very least, if you don’t understand, that’s okay. But please open opportunities for those who are working and making their moves. Make it easier for them to operate within the powers you hold, whether you are the government, local authorities, or local businesses. Please open your minds and make the work environment as easy as possible. We believe that when these efforts become clearer, people will eventually understand and see how it can affect everything. Chiang Mai Municipality will also see how it stimulates the city's atmosphere and increases city revenue.
Earng: It's about improving the quality of life, starting with widespread cultural empowerment. Everything is connected. If we use culture as a measure to define a first-world society, it's not just a luxury item; it's a path, a movement towards a direction that shows us how a society valuing art can develop enough to economically support this industry.
"Building a great music city requires more than just dreams," is true, but dreams are an important component, along with love and determination. And when we listen to the voices of Fender and Earng, believe us, they have plenty of it.
Thanks to our interview venue: Chiang Mai Original Live.
.jpg)
.png){kind=logo}
