Stanning Observations: When Dionysus Meets Excel
July 5, 2026
I was just scrolling his fan page to look at a pretty face.
Yao Chi — one year older than me. English major, good-looking, currently filming in Hengdian Studios. I browse his fan community out of habit — until I saw he named his concert tour Dionysus.
Then I looked at his schedule: morning filming in Hengdian, evening flight to Nanjing, night concert, next day back to set.
My first reaction: absurd.
Where exactly is the Dionysus in this?
When Dionysus Meets Excel
Dionysus — ecstasy, excess beyond norms, the shattering of order, irrational creative impulse. A force that ruptures everyday discipline.
Meanwhile, this "Dionysus" lives: 06:00 wake up, film, airport, venue, concert, sleep, next day repeat. Timed to the minute.
That's Apollo. Not Dionysus.
The theme says Dionysus; reality says Excel spreadsheet. On stage performing Dionysus, backstage living Foucault.
If he actually went full Dionysus, police would arrive within thirty minutes. The true Dionysian rite means the dissolution of rational order, the collapse of subject-boundaries, uncontrollable collective ecstasy — none of which a commercial concert can sustain.
So what function does "Dionysus" actually serve here?
The Spectacularized God
The Paris Olympics opening ceremony also cosplayed Dionysus. My question isn't whether it's "right or wrong," but rather: capitalism converts the Dionysian spirit into a consumable spectacle.
The genuinely dangerous part has been neutralized. You can sell tickets, merchandise, media coverage, national cultural branding — but the originally subversive force is no longer present.
What's more interesting: even a meticulously choreographed, massively budgeted, security-saturated "controlled bacchanal" still manages to make some people feel it's "too dangerous."
The power of symbols sometimes provokes more controversy than their actual social effects. What people argue about is often not "what happened," but "what we think it means."
Why I Can't Be a Fan
When an idol speaks, others hear emotion. I hear discourse.
He says "let's embrace freedom together" — I ask "how many years left on your contract." He says "don't let life domesticate us" — I say "you filmed eight hours today, flew to Nanjing tonight, and start again at six tomorrow." He invokes "Dionysus" — I ask "Euripides' Dionysus? Nietzsche's? Or the contemporary pop culture version?"
I'm not laughing at him as a person. I'm laughing at the enormous gap between concept and reality.
I'd rather study fan communities than join them. The moment I join, everyone's yelling "oppa is so handsome" and I'm saying "hold on, let me first analyze the ideological structure of this discourse" — banned within three minutes.
From Nietzsche to Durkheim
It occurred to me — maybe Durkheim explains concerts better than Nietzsche does.
For fans, taking a train to another city after work to see a concert already feels rebellious. They're not channeling Nietzsche or Euripides — they're feeling "today I finally don't have to be the person who goes to work every day." This experience is closer to Durkheim's collective effervescence — the extraordinary shared emotion generated when tens of thousands gather together.
Fan communities are intensely exclusionary: homepage audits, post history checks, verifying you don't follow rival fandoms, confirming "solo stan" status — this is already strict membership verification and community boundary construction. Totems, sacred/profane distinctions, heretic expulsion — all present.
A theoretical chain emerges:
- Nietzsche: Dionysus as cultural symbol
- Durkheim: how collective effervescence is produced
- Debord / Foucault: how that effervescence enters modern spectacle and governance
Late-Night Listening
I had zero interest in his music. Not even the desire to press play. I wouldn't even open Apple Music — afraid the algorithm would misread me and spam recommendations of similar artists. I'd rather use Wikipedia.
But I can't critique only the press release. So I started digging.
First lyric impression: Blade Runner references, galaxies, dopamine, Pluto, "if you love him just kiss him." Lots of imagery. But what's the relationship between these images and "Dionysus"? If you renamed the album Stardust or Wanderer, the lyrics would still work — meaning Dionysus is just an outer frame, not an organizing principle.
Album description: "A world that worships rationality and efficiency… I wanted to honestly write my sensitive, often shame-filled self into this album… inviting listeners to reflect on the commodification of emotional expression." Okay — so the problematic is actually here. Not Dionysus, not romance, but how modern society turns emotion into commodity. That's clear.
Vocal: Douban reviews said "vocal is trash." I decided to verify. He started singing and I laughed — not because it was bad, but because it was kind of cute. Thin timbre, but when singing psychedelia, that thinness becomes a floaty, soft texture. Not trash — a kitten trying to roar.
Track-by-track:
- "Dreams" — his voice with psychedelic effects actually works well. Best fit for him. But too short; could extend into post-rock.
- "Space and Time" — sounds like his idol Queen. Also suits him. But the mix is rough.
- "Run" — punk-flavored Hard Rock, slightly limp. But I already like this genre, so even though he didn't nail it, I'll take it.
- "Cycle and Scrap" — best hook on the album. Saved.
He also has some inspired modulations rare in Chinese indie rock — melody leading harmony, not textbook moves, but naturally carrying the tune somewhere new. The Britpop lineage is real.
Final verdict: Douban's 7.6 is fair. Not a masterpiece, but genuine creative intent with a sustained problematic. Being a soft-cute rock singer is fine. I'm lazy myself — no double standards.
Where Did Dionysus Go?
Finished the entire album. I expected a track called "Dionysus." There wasn't one.
These songs are overwhelmingly personal — even when addressing universal themes, they depart from "my" experience and "my" feelings. No dissolution of the subject, no collective ecstasy — just "my" love, "my" emotions, "my" growth. The subject stays intact throughout.
So it's not collective effervescence either. I corrected my own hypothesis.
Dionysus is not a concept that grew organically from within the work. It's a framing layer for the tour — a stage persona, a beautiful concept used to package the self.
But even so — he at least knows Dionysus relates to art, sensibility, dreams, freedom. His understanding is closer to the pop-cultural Dionysus than to Greek religion or Nietzsche. Still better than people who have no culture and despise culture.
The real research question that remains:
Why would a creator who has no song called "Dionysus," whose album isn't thematically about Dionysus, choose to name his concert tour after him? Why does Chinese pop music keep borrowing this name?
How a classical concept undergoes semantic drift in modern pop culture, how it gets continuously re-encoded — this question is far more interesting than "does he understand Dionysus."
Postscript
I was just scrolling his fan page to look at a pretty face. I ended up listening to his entire album.
It didn't change my understanding of Dionysus. But it reminded me of another kind of youth: not the kind sculpted into an inspirational template, but a twenty-something carrying his own idols, his own confusions, his own ambitions and a little clumsiness, writing it all down earnestly.
He's only one year older than me. I never expected we'd become such different people. Knowledge changes how you see — and that change is almost irreversible.
I'm being youthful too, apparently. Actually stanning someone. And he's my own age.
July 5, 2026, small hours. 00:29 to 04:09. Four hours, one album, two saves ("Cycle and Scrap," "Run"), one research question.
Thanks to that pretty face. Without it, I'd never have gone from Hard Rock to Dionysus, and from Dionysus to intellectual history.
Cover photo by @蒸气牛奶 via Weibo.