Chinese rock is a divisive issue among expat music lovers. Some land in China, see a live rock show and—shocked that the genre even exists here—place Chinese rock solidly in their musical blind spots, singing the praises of bands and musicians and refusing to hold any of it up to a critical light. Others dismiss Chinese rock as a juvenile attempt at copying other more successful international bands and genres. Both views hit the wrong note, as writer and musician Jonathan Campbell makes clear in his new book Red Rock.

Placed in historical context, Chinese rock is fascinating for what it represents—how it helped shape and was shaped by a generation of young Chinese looking for something more than officially sanctioned pop music and officially sanctioned lives, says Campbell.In Red Rock, Campbell provides that history, weaving the tale of Chinese rock music into a larger tapestry of social change and upheaval that will interest even those who couldn’t care less if ReTROS really does sound like Joy Division.

Campbell is uniquely qualified to write a book on Chinese rock. Not only does he hold down the drums for a number of Beijing bands including Black Cat Bone and P.K.14, he is also a capable writer who has written for a series of publications which include The Globe and Mail. In Red Rock he successfully combines his insider access to the scene with a writer’s eye for narrative to produce a rollicking tale of the birth, growth and cultivation of Chinese rock, starting from the rock obsession of former Defense Minister Lin Biao’s son “Tiger” Lin Liguo, one of the first in the country to have heard rock music, through the reign of Chinese rock king Cui Jian, to the present day, where the music scene has fractured into a wide variety of genres from reggae to ska to metal to electronic, with a festival industry that is ramping up each year, and increasing international access and interest.

Campbell’s fascination with the yaogun, or Chinese rocker, is evident, and his excitement passes on to the reader. He opens the book with a scene from a recent Midi Festival concert, where the band continued to play after the rain had chased away most of the crowd and killed the sound system. It’s this spirit of endurance in the face of obstacles that has kept rock in the PRC alive over the past three decades, and Campbell throws in great quiz night factoids of exactly how they managed that considering the lack of technology and access. One memorable method was cultivating collections of dakou, clipped CDs in the 1980s intended for the trash in the West, but prized possessions for China’s burgeoning yaogunners who were thirsty for any kind of new music, whether it be Bon Jovi or Karen Carpenter.

In China, context is key, and Campbell is well aware of this. Red Rock is a fun and informative read, and Campbell spends a satisfying amount of time analyzing what rock means to China, and what it meant and continues to mean to the West. In comparing the two, he touches on larger cultural issues and changing viewpoints that will resonate with many expats who may not set foot in China’s dive bars and live houses.

Jonathan Campbell, Red Rock: The Long, Strange March of Chinese Rock & Roll, Earnshaw Books, US$19.99