The Rhythmic Resilience: Exploring the Myanmar Pop Music Landscape

I am sure you would agree with me that music is a universal language, a reflection of a nation's soul and its turbulent history. As an assistant professor of ELT at the International College, Dhurakij Pundit University in Bangkok, Thailand, I notice the vibrant exchange of culture across Southeast Asia, and few nations offer a more complex and fascinating musical narrative than Myanmar.

First of all, to appreciate the Myanmar pop music landscape, we must understand the historical backdrop. It is well known that for decades, the country was under strict military rule, which profoundly impacted every facet of cultural expression, including music. Those were the days when everything was simple, but also when everything was scrutinized. Experts say that popular music, often referred to as "stereo" music in Myanmar (to distinguish it from traditional "mono" music), was heavily influenced by Western pop and rock starting from the 1960s and 70s.

The Phenomenon of Copy Thachin

Let me introduce you to the notion of 'Copy Thachin'—a term fundamental to understanding this landscape. One may ask what "Copy Thachin" is. Basically, it refers to Burmese pop songs that borrow the melody of an existing international hit (often Anglo-American, but also Thai, Indian, or Korean) and set it to new lyrics in the Burmese language. I think this phenomenon is a fascinating case study in cultural adaptation and resilience under censorship.

Critics such as those concerned with intellectual property would tell you that it is all about plagiarism. However challenging, I determine to make it clear that the emergence of Copy Thachin is not just about a lack of originality; it is an economic and political product of its time. I’d like to entertain you with the idea that during the military regime, with strict censorship from the Press Scrutiny Board, it was incredibly difficult and risky for artists to produce original music that might inadvertently contain subversive messages.

As we know, producing original music requires access to modern equipment and professional training, which were scarce due to economic isolation and bans on foreign imports. Accordingly, adopting a proven international melody minimized the creative risk, allowing musicians to focus on Burmese lyrics that, if cleared by the censors, could still resonate with the public. My conviction is that this practice allowed the industry to survive and popular music to flourish, even if in a derivative form. They say that Copy Thachin helped local artists learn about global popular music, laying a foundation for future original compositions.

A Shifting Sonic Palette

Nevertheless, it is my long-held belief that (though I could be wrong) the music landscape has gradually moved towards greater originality, particularly with the easing of censorship in the early 2010s. The news has it that in October 2012, the cessation of the censorship of audio recordings was a powerful symbol of commitment to artistic freedom.

The past is the past. Like it or not, the world moves on. Gradually, I observed the rise of genres like Hip-Hop and Rock, which offered new avenues for authentic self-expression.

Fundamentally, it is all about the youth expressing themselves. Hip-hop, in particular, became the prevailing genre among young people. Artists like Sai Sai Kham Leng and J-me brought in the rhythms and aesthetics of American rap and hip-hop culture, talking about social issues, personal struggles, and urban life.

Globally, the internet and social media have been game-changers. What we all know and agree upon is that digital proliferation made it much easier for artists to create, distribute, and promote their music, bypassing traditional, often state-controlled, media channels.

Music as a Voice of Resistance

What's more interesting is that, in the face of political upheaval, music in Myanmar has powerfully reasserted its role as a voice of resistance. The 2021 military coup sparked a creative explosion of "revolutionary songs." My gut tells me that for a generation that had tasted a degree of freedom, music became an indispensable tool for non-violent resistance.

These anti-coup songs, circulated widely on social media, often reference deep-seated Burmese tropes and historical events to advocate for democracy and unity. It has perplexed me to see how quickly artists mobilized, turning their creative energy into anthems for the protest movement. Indeed, hip-hop groups like Rap Against Junta have used their sharp, politically charged lyrics to speak out against military oppression, serving as an inspiration for many.

Some argue for the idea that such politically charged music is ephemeral, a product of a specific moment. Some argue against this, suggesting that these songs will become indelible parts of the nation's contemporary history. I think the latter holds more weight; this music is documenting history in real-time.

Looking Ahead

As a language teacher, I often see how language and culture are intertwined. The evolution of Burmese pop music, from the constrained creativity of Copy Thachin to the raw political passion of revolutionary rap, mirrors the country's own struggle for self-definition.

Make no mistake, the challenges for the music industry remain significant, particularly regarding infrastructure, piracy, and ongoing political instability. Yet, the talent is undeniable.

I know you would agree with me that the resilience and creative spirit of Myanmar's musicians will continue to shape the sound of their nation. No one knows everything, but I would like to conclude by saying that the Myanmar pop music landscape is a living, breathing testament to the power of art to endure, adapt, and ultimately, speak truth to power. Fundamentally, I would argue that the future of Burmese pop music lies in the hands of a generation determined to sing its own song, both literally and figuratively.