Don't Think I've Forgotten: Cambodia's Lost Rock and Roll

During the Khmer Rouge regime, nearly two million people perished including most of the country's artists, musicians and intellectuals. It's estimated that Cambodia lost 90% of its artists - particularly devastating in a country where the traditional arts are taught orally. This meant that much of Cambodia's artistic history was nearly destroyed. There are organisations who are working hard to preserve and revive the arts, including the company I work for, Amrita Performing Arts. Another organisation, Cambodia Living Arts, found Master Artists (four to begin with, 15 years ago) and helped to support them and start them teaching again.

Musicians also perished during this time - not just the traditional artists, but the 'kids' who were playing rock 'n' roll. I hadn't appreciated quite what a modern music scene there was in Phnom Penh until I saw the film Don't Think I've Forgotten: Cambodia's Lost Rock and Roll.

In January 2014, Gordon and I, along with my folks, were lucky enough to be among the 700-ish people (it seats 550) who squeezed into renowned Cambodian architect Vann Molyvann's Chaktomuk Theatre for the premiere of Don't Think I've Forgotten: Cambodia's Lost Rock and Roll. As the film's Facebook page describes, far better than I could: This documentary film provides a new perspective on a country usually associated with war and genocide. By celebrating this powerful music, and the people who created it, Cambodia's musical heyday emerges from the shadows of tragedy into the light of history.

Seven years in the making, this film features interviews with surviving musicians or family members of those that didn't survive, plus amazing footage of vintage Cambodia. The film had only just been completed - if memory serves, they were still doing the subtitles on the day of the premiere!

It was a very emotional night with lots of history in the room. Vann Molyvann, architect of the theatre and architect of some of Phnom Penh's most striking buildings was there. As was Rithy Panh, director of, among many other films, The Missing Picture, which narrowly missed out on an Oscar a few days ago. A handful of musicians that survived had made the trip, from Cambodia and from abroad. The family of some of the artist's featured in the film but who didn't survive the regime were there: Ros Serey Sothea's sister, Sinn Sisamouth's son.

It was a real privilege to be there. Please see this wonderful film if you can - this trailer gives a little flavour of it.

But… there's more…

After the premiere we went outside for some music - I didn't really know what to expect.

Some of the musicians, who had been the equivalent of The Beatles or Bay City Rollers in Phnom Penh in the 70s, had come back together three days before the premiere and started to play the old songs. Some younger musicians joined them, to fill the gaps left by the Khmer Rouge, and what proceeded was one of the most fun, and emotional, concerts I've been to. I don't know how much these musicians still play, but it was amazing to think that they could rehearse together for such a short time, after such a long time not playing the music, and then give a three hour concert. To be clear, these musicians weren't from the same band. I don't think they were necessarily playing songs that they'd have played the first time round. It was awesome!

It was standing room only in the theatre - it's amazing how many people you can
squeeze in when you don't have fire safety laws…

Kings of Karaoke

In Scotland, friends meet and go to the pub. In Cambodia, they go to karaoke. They absolutely love it and it is pretty certain that a group of Cambodians out for the night, will end up at a karaoke club.  Food and drinks, then karaoke and drinks.

VSO Cambodia staff, plus Claire and me in Venise Karaoke Club. You get your own private room,  dance floor,  song organiser and bar girls (optional...)

Like pubs, karaoke clubs come in all shapes and sizes. Just like the spartan old man's boozer that has lonesome individuals in it from lunchtime, you may see a guy belting out a song in the middle of the day in what is nothing more than a shop with rows of chairs facing a TV.

Then you get the flashier karaoke clubs that tempt those with money. These will have huge Johnnie Walker and Chivas Regal advertising outside, and beautiful young girls inside. These are things that money buys at karaoke.

The Rock Karaoke Club - one of the biggest and flashiest - where we debuted

It is not quite karaoke on the bus, as people do not sing with a microphone, but to help entertain you on your six hour bus trip to wherever, they will play pop songs that are operatic in length and story. These songs may last 20 minutes or so and have different chapters that usually follow a story of a love triangle or quadrangle.

Singing can also extend to meetings. Some of the more important meetings/events that I go to may begin with the national anthem. Most of the time, you just stand rigid, hands at your sides and staring forwards as the tape recording plays, but one time at a school (no electricity), one boy led off the singing swiftly accompanied by other children and parents. I stood at the front facing them moving my lips inaudibly.

However, there are some songs that I have learnt. My favourite is 'ch'nam own dop-pram-moie' (I'm 16 years old) which talks about how a girl at 16 is as sweet and beautiful as can be. I've been assured the actual meaning isn't as bad as it sounds.

The Cambodian Space Project - current band rocking Phnom Penh playing some Cambodian rock with a Khmer female lead vocalist

The most famous singers, Sin Sisamuth and Ros Sereysothea were killed during the Khmer Rouge era but still remain hugely popular, even amongst young people, helped by recordings of them on You Tube. New pop stars with fancier hair cuts are becoming famous and indeed Cambodian music is going global with Dengue Fever - an American band whose original songs are inspired by 1960s Cambodian pop/rock and have a Cambodian lead singer.

However, international influences are arriving, none more so than K-Pop (Korean Pop) with Gangnam Style never failing to fill a dance floor. But it is fair to say that they are only just arriving. Despite their love of karaoke and 60s rock, Elvis Presley is not only dead in Cambodia, he was never even alive. Mention The Beatles and blank faces respond. But before long, I bet you that there will be a Cambodian Elvis impersonator though. Or at least a lanky Scottish one that happens to be in Cambodia.

Gordon