t’s a crisp December night in the heart of Taipei, and Freddy Lim is presiding over a campaign rally to remember. Flanked by his bandmates, and looking out over a 50,000-strong crowd, he steps to the front of the stage and lets out a guttural scream. Even without the CO2 cannons, video screens and orchestra at his back, or the facepaint daubed on his forehead, it’s an unlikely scene for a parliamentary candidate in the thick of a re-election campaign. “During the campaign I was so exhausted every day,” he remembers, looking back on the events of 21 December. The night’s rally-cum-concert has just been released for posterity as Taiwan Victory Live, his band Chthonic’s latest live album and concert film – as well as a document of his two vocations, metal and legislative politics, mid-collision. “But on stage, I felt like I’d been refreshed, like there were thousands of people at my back and I could do anything,” he grins. “Those people banging their heads and moshing, exchanging energy with you, they provide something very unique, deep in your soul, that can support you to keep going. I’m so happy we did it, because my team had debates over whether voters might have wanted their member of parliament to seem more serious. If I went back to being a metalhead, would it be a good image? But a lot of fans and supporters, after that concert, tried to mobilise campaigns to convince people to vote for me in my district. I don’t think any other kind of event can do that.” He held his seat. Since forming in 1995 with Freddy on lead vocals, Chthonic have become cultural ambassadors for Taiwan – its history, myths and struggles. China maintains that Taiwan is part of the People’s Republic of China: not a sovereign entity, but a rogue province that will one day be brought under its control. Acknowledging Taiwan’s independence, and risking reprisals from China, has therefore become awkward for other countries. As a result, Taiwan is excluded from the World Health Organisation and the United Nations, has official diplomatic ties with only 14 UN member states, and since emerging as a democracy in the late 1980s and early 90s, has faced internal tensions between pro-independence and pro-China factions. Releasing eight albums of uncompromising, category-defying metal and playing hallowed metal arenas such as Donington Park and Ozzfest, Chthonic have drawn lyrical themes from their country’s past, telling the stories of indigenous peoples and their mistreatment. It’s something that evolved naturally in Freddy’s life and writing, but gradually began to convey a real sense of responsibility. “During our teenage years we feel a lot of pressure from outside, and there are a lot of complicated emotions on the inside,” he says of what drew him to metal. “Through high school my parents got divorced and I faced some difficulties within my family. Metal allowed me to relax and release what I was feeling. Later on I found metal bands who were not just expressing emotions but also had thoughts on issues like racism, conflicts between different ideologies, or were trying to uncover their country’s mythology and culture. When I formed Chthonic, I started to think more about what ideas the music could carry. And when that involves complicated issues about society, you have to do more, to contribute more.” He says events in the country’s history, such as the violent repression of the indigenous Seediq people by Japanese colonists in the 20th century, or the years between 1949 and 1987 that were spent under martial law (often referred to as the White Terror), “come with heavy burdens. When we read these stories, we feel a lot of deep emotions. I need to get the feelings they bring up out with music, or I’d explode, I think!” As Chthonic’s career progressed, the whole band became more and more heavily involved in championing human rights causes. Bassist Doris Yeh has been an eloquent spokesperson in the global metal press, turning a spotlight on everything from the Awakening Foundation, a group that combats gender-based discrimination and inequality in Taiwan, to Hong Kong’s pro-democracy Umbrella movement. And in 2007, the five-piece memorably hit the US on what they branded the “UNlimited Taiwan” tour, calling attention to Taiwan’s exclusion from international organisations such as the United Nations. “Before that time the Taiwanese government had tried to buy ads in the political columns and introduce what’s happened between Taiwan and China, and why Taiwan couldn’t be a member of those international organisations,” Lim remembers. “I don’t want to say that those ways have been useless, but they’ve put a limit on our imagination. With music, with movies, with more soft power, I think Taiwan can show different sides, and make people want to get involved.” Freddy was elected as chair of Amnesty International Taiwan, a post he held between 2010 and 2014. But after the Sunflower Movement brought a new wave of youth activism in the country, occupying the Legislative Yuan arm of parliament in protest against a trade pact that would bring the country more into alignment with China, he began to feel that standing on the outside was no longer enough. “I started to try and convince more people that they should get involved directly in politics to push their ideas. I hit a point where I thought: I can’t only be a supporter, I have to work with them.” He formed the New Power Party (NPP) and ran for office in 2015. After being elected as a member of Taiwan’s Legislative Yuan in 2016’s election as part of the fledgling NPP, running on a platform of social justice and support for Taiwanese independence, Freddy used his first term in office to champion progressive causes. The theme he comes back to most frequently is the importance of breaking an older generation’s stranglehold on political office. “Nowadays, the metabolism of politics of Taiwan is quite healthy. I can see a lot of young people getting involved or running for office. It makes our politics healthier and more diverse.” He laughs. “For example, in politics when people mention me, they see me as part of the young generation. Come on, I’m 44! “We want to create a fairer society, and that’s in the DNA of young people. We are the first country in Asia to legalise same sex marriage [in 2019]. We’ve been supporting the Hong Kong democracy movement and the cause of Tibet. That younger generation have been born into independence, into a democratic country that they don’t want to sacrifice. With this generation making political decisions, it can make Taiwan more progressive, to care more about oppressed people and those who suffer with tough lives.” Choosing to run as an independent in search of his second term – part of a coalition of young independent candidates on the progressive end of Taiwanese politics, Democracy Frontline – Freddy was banking on that very generation stepping up and getting behind him. It seems to have worked. At the election this January, he won in a tight race against a representative of the traditionally conservative, pro-China Kuomintang party. “Mobilising young people and working together, across party lines – it’s very important. This is the right place for me.” Now, Freddy’s two worlds are coming together again in his new podcast with Emily Y Wu, Metalhead Politics. He views it as a forum for publicising Taiwanese political issues worldwide (particularly the country’s response to the Covid-19 pandemic) while also serving as a launch-pad for new material from Chthonic. “We’re discussing how, maybe instead of albums, we should write more singles and release them once in a while,” he muses. “We don’t play live too much, maybe once a year in Taiwan only. If we can write some new songs or produce the concerts well with some unique ideas, we can put them online so fans anywhere can also enjoy the shows and new music. It’s important to get people listening to what’s going on here – whether they’re metalheads or not.” • Chthonic’s album Taiwan Victory Live, and episodes of Freddy Lim’s podcast Metalhead Politics, are both available now.