CUI JIAN IS no stranger to controversy. The launch of his career marked the advent of rock'n'roll in China. When he sang Nothing to My Name in 1986 it galvanised a generation grasping for meaning amid the country's white-knuckled rush to modernity.
It served as a heavy counter to the sugar-coated pop of the day, and Cui's music resounded among his fellow twentysomethings who'd grown up during the Cultural Revolution and the fast-paced Deng Xiaoping era that followed.
Three years later, Cui was in Tiananmen Square, singing A Piece of Red Cloth with a red blindfold over his eyes, and Nothing to My Name had become the unofficial anthem of the student protesters. Fifteen days later, the tanks rolled in.
By 1990 Cui was in officialdom's good books. He embarked on a national tour - the proceeds of which were to go to Beijing's Asian Games - but halfway through the schedule the authorities pulled the plug. Some said it was because the crowds were getting too large and unruly.
For most of the past 15 years, Cui has been banned from performing at large venues in the capital. Although there was no written edict, every promoter knew there was no chance of official approval.
Cui's lyrics are political, his fans frenzied, his history scarred. And rock music has always been a scary prospect for the government. The ban has since been lifted. It was supposed to end with an opening slot on The Rolling Stones' China tour two years ago. Instead, Deep Purple's visit last year marked the comeback of the man dubbed the 'godfather of Chinese rock'. He played five songs before Ian Gillan and company took to the stage.
