Master Wen on Viral Fame, the Search for Identity, and Why the Music Must Always Speak First

What began as a childhood fascination with a Michael Jackson VCD in a small town in southwest China has evolved into an unexpected global star fueled by rhythm and soul. Master Wen is an artist who understands that while technique is the essential tool, emotion is the "flavor" that ensures a performance is never forgotten.

The Chongqing-born singer opens up about the "obsessive repetition" required to find his voice, his upcoming transition from a viral cover artist to an original creator, and how fatherhood has reshaped his definition of a successful legacy.

From the teahouses of Chengdu to the international stages of London, Wen’s story is a powerful reminder that music doesn't just travel across borders, it connects us long before we even speak the same language. Grounded, humble, and relentlessly focused on the craft, Master Wen proves that the most important journey an artist can take is the one toward their own unmistakable sound.

@masterwen_hao

ANOMIE: For readers who are discovering you for the first time, how would you introduce yourself and your musical journey?

MASTER WEN: I’m a singer from Chongqing in southwest China. Many people first found me through my covers, but for me, a cover was never simply about reproducing a song. Music became a way to meet people I might never otherwise have met and to reach stages I never imagined I would stand on. I began as a boy in a small town, listening closely and copying voices by ear. In one sense, covers opened the world to me. Now the journey is moving in the other direction: I’m trying to discover what is unmistakably mine, and to use that voice to connect people who may not come from the same place or speak the same language.

ANOMIE: What role did music play in your childhood, and when did you first realise you wanted to sing?

MASTER WEN: When I was 12, my mother bought me a Michael Jackson VCD. The first thing I noticed was not the music, the zombies in “Thriller” terrified me, and for a while I thought he was an actor in horror films. I smile now at that childhood misunderstanding. The fear eventually faded, but the music stayed with me. Looking back, this was before the internet, and the fact that Michael Jackson’s work had travelled all the way to our small town felt almost magical.

The real doorway was a record shop near my school. One day it was playing Backstreet Boys’ “Get Down”, and I felt my body moving before I had even decided whether I liked the song. I saved my pocket money for a long time and bought my first CD. Later, standing in the audience at a school choir competition, I realised that voices did not have to remain inside a machine: a person could step onstage and express something real. I remember thinking, very clearly, I want to be up there.

ANOMIE: Many people are surprised by how naturally you perform English-language songs. How did you develop that skill?

MASTER WEN: Mostly through repetition, almost obsessive repetition. When I learn an English-language song, I don’t just memorise the melody and approximate the sounds. I listen to where the singer places the stress, how one word runs into the next, where the breath changes, and even the smallest consonants. Then I record myself, listen back and correct it until the pronunciation and the rhythm stop fighting each other.

I have no problem with having an accent in conversation; communication is what matters. But in a song, language is part of the arrangement. I’m not trying to pretend English is my first language. I’m trying to respect the internal music of the lyric, so the words, rhythm and emotion move together, and the listener is not pulled out of the song by a phrase that lands in the wrong place.

ANOMIE: Is there a difference between learning English through music and speaking it in everyday life?

MASTER WEN: They are almost two different skills. Learning a song is like rehearsing a piece from a score: the words, rhythm and pronunciation are already fixed. You can become very precise inside that one piece and still feel lost in conversation, because conversation has no score. Lyrics are also more poetic than everyday speech; people do not usually talk the way a song is written.

Music trained my ear and gave me a sense of English phrasing, but speaking improved only when I had to respond in real time and was willing to make mistakes. When that environment is not available, films and television help because you hear complete conversations, the interruptions, jokes and everyday rhythms, not only lines written to fit a melody.

ANOMIE: Which Western artists had the biggest influence on you growing up? We’ve heard names like Backstreet Boys, Britney Spears and NSYNC mentioned before.

MASTER WEN: Backstreet Boys, NSYNC, Britney Spears and Michael Jackson all shaped me in different ways. Backstreet Boys and NSYNC taught me about harmony, groove and the chemistry of a group onstage. Britney showed me that pop music could have a visual identity and a performance language as strong as the song itself. Michael Jackson showed me that a performer could build an entire world around a piece of music.

At first, I copied everything, the voices, the techniques, even particular habits. Eventually I realised that if I continued, I would become a very accurate playback machine rather than an artist. So I stopped asking, “How can I sound like them?” and started asking, “What are they doing that makes me feel this way?” They are still my teachers, but they are no longer my templates.

ANOMIE: What was it about Western pop music that connected with you so strongly?

MASTER WEN: The first thing was the groove. Much of the Mandarin-language pop available to me as a child led with melody, atmosphere and emotion; it made me sit still and listen inward. The Western pop I discovered often entered through the body first. It made me want to move. One was not better than the other, they simply opened different doors.

When the Bee Gees’ “Stayin’ Alive” comes on, the rhythm takes hold of you immediately. “How Deep Is Your Love” is soft and romantic, while the Carpenters’ “Top of the World” takes me back to the lightness of childhood. Those songs sound completely different, yet each delivers a very precise feeling. Even now, I look for both things in music: the stillness and emotional space I learnt from Chinese songs, and the physical pulse that first grabbed me in Western pop.

ANOMIE: Were you surprised by the reaction your covers received online?

MASTER WEN: Yes, especially the first time a cover really took off. I let the numbers and attention go to my head. I was not mature enough then to separate attention from achievement, and for a while I treated a spike in views as proof that I had already arrived.

I started posting covers in 2017, and since then I have watched attention rise and fall more than once. It taught me that a viral video means a large number of people felt something at the same moment; it does not mean you have built a career. I still celebrate when a song connects, but I move much more quickly to the next question: can I make the next performance better?

ANOMIE: Do you remember when you first realised your videos were reaching people around the world?

MASTER WEN: There was no single dramatic moment. It was the accumulation of languages in my comments: English, Spanish, Portuguese, and many others I needed translation software to understand. The numbers told me the videos had reach; the languages made that reach feel real. It was as if the world had begun appearing, one comment at a time, on my screen.

After my covers of Bad Bunny’s “DtMF” and Omah Lay’s “soso”, I began seeing many more listeners from Spanish-speaking countries and across Africa. What moved me was not the scale or the geography. It was the fact that strangers with no shared background could recognise the same feeling in one song. The connection happened before we had words for one another.

ANOMIE: Your cover of Drake’s “NOKIA” became especially popular online. What attracts you to a song when deciding whether to cover it?

MASTER WEN: I ask myself two questions: do I genuinely like the song, and can I find a way into it that belongs to my voice? There are songs I love as a listener but cannot inhabit as a singer, so I leave them alone until I understand them differently. Other songs do not grab me immediately, but the moment I sing them, a door opens.

“NOKIA” was one of those. I tried it almost casually, then found myself enjoying it more each time. Later I took the song to a university programme for older adults in Chengdu and performed it with the students there. They did not know the lyrics, or Drake, but everyone was smiling and dancing. That made something very simple clear to me: lyrics carry meaning, but rhythm, tone and energy can reach people before meaning does.

ANOMIE: Many fans comment on the emotion in your performances. What matters more: technical ability or emotional connection?

MASTER WEN: I don’t think one works without the other. Technique is like the equipment in a kitchen; emotion is understanding what the dish should taste like. Good tools help you execute an idea, but if you have no sense of flavour or warmth, the result can be technically perfect and completely forgettable.

Singing is the same. Technique gives you a wider range of choices; emotion tells you which choice matters. The point is not to display the tool. Technique has done its job when it disappears into the song, and the song reaches someone.

ANOMIE: Has viral success changed your life in ways you did not expect?

MASTER WEN: The visible changes were easier to imagine: people recognise me in the street, I receive more enquiries about live shows, and artists and music companies contact me about working together. What felt surreal was hearing from musicians I had known only through my headphones, people whose work I admired, then finding ourselves discussing music or the possibility of creating something together.

It did not make me feel that I had “made it”. It made the stakes clearer. More opportunity means more pressure to know what you want to say. I have to show people that there is a musician behind the viral clip, someone who can create original work, keep growing and remain worth listening to after the algorithm moves on.

ANOMIE: How has your hometown responded to your success?

MASTER WEN: I still hesitate to use the word “success”. Some friends and listeners back home who have followed me for a long time are happy and proud, and that means a great deal to me. Plenty of other people have no idea what I am doing, which is completely normal, and probably healthy.

Where I come from, there is a very plain idea: in the end, the work has to speak. I don’t need everyone to know my name yet. I would rather give them a reason to remember it through the records and the shows.

ANOMIE: As a husband and father, how do you balance family life with a growing music career?

MASTER WEN: I am fortunate to have a family that understands why music matters to me. A music career takes time away from home, it means travel, rehearsals and shows, but their support keeps me grounded. During my shows in the UK, my daughter sent me a message before I went onstage each time. That gave me more strength than any motivational speech could.

I don’t think balance is something I achieve alone. It is something a family keeps negotiating: who needs time, who adjusts, and what matters most at that moment. Their support is not permission for me to disappear. It makes me more conscious of showing up at home and of never treating their understanding as an unlimited resource.

ANOMIE: Has becoming a parent influenced the way you think about music and success?

MASTER WEN: Definitely. Fatherhood did not make me want a smaller stage; it made my definition of success larger. When I was younger, I thought mostly about whether a technique was impressive or whether the audience was amazed. Now another question stays with me: when my daughter is grown, what story will my choices tell her about who I was?

I hope she sees more than a man who sang onstage. I want her to see someone who kept working when the attention changed, treated people well and did not lose his love of music while trying to reach bigger stages. One day she will not only be my daughter; she will also be one of my listeners. I hope that, by then, the work has given her a reason to be proud of me.

ANOMIE: You have recently performed outside China. What has it been like meeting international audiences in person?

MASTER WEN: Online, an audience can feel abstract: avatars, comments and analytics. In London, those numbers suddenly had faces. The room included Chinese listeners and people from many other backgrounds. There were 18- and 19-year-old students, and there were listeners in their sixties.

When the music started, everyone was singing, laughing and moving to the same rhythm. The differences between us did not disappear, but they stopped being a barrier. That is the picture I have always wanted: not everyone becoming the same, but people who have never met being able to share one feeling for the length of a song. Seeing it in front of me made all the preparation worthwhile.

ANOMIE: Have there been any memorable interactions with fans from other countries?

MASTER WEN: What stays with me most is not a particular photograph; it is the fans who travelled from other countries to China simply to hear me sing. A plane ticket may look like one line on an itinerary, but it can represent saved money, time away from work, or a first journey to a country whose language you do not speak.

I also feel guilty sometimes. The teahouse where I used to film did not have a fixed performance schedule, so some people travelled a long way but were unable to see me. That taught me that a three-minute song can prompt a real journey towards someone who previously existed only on a screen. It makes me want to treat every recording, and every meeting, with more care.

ANOMIE: Can music connect people even when they do not share the same language?

MASTER WEN: Absolutely, but not because language suddenly stops mattering. Music gives curiosity a place to begin. Even before my overseas shows, I could see it happening in the comments: listeners who had rarely heard Afrobeats would find the original song through one of my covers, then begin looking for more African artists and learning about the culture around the sound.

People may not begin learning about a place through a history book. Sometimes the first doorway is a rhythm. Once a sound moves you, you want to know where it comes from, why it is made that way and what kind of life surrounds it. Music cannot solve every difference by itself, but it can change the direction in which someone looks—and that is already a form of connection.

ANOMIE: What has been the biggest challenge you have faced since becoming a public figure?

MASTER WEN: The hardest part is remembering why I began making music while everyone offers a different version of who they think I should be. Once more people are watching, some want you to repeat the same style forever, some want you to chase the market, and others decide who you are from a clip that lasts 30 seconds.

No artist can satisfy all of those expectations. I need to protect my own judgement without turning “being true to myself” into an excuse not to learn. Public attention also creates responsibility because your words can travel farther than you intended. I am learning to be more thoughtful and more open while still making honest work. That tension is not something I can solve once; it is something I have to manage every day.

ANOMIE: Many people know you through covers. Are there plans for more original music?

MASTER WEN: Yes. I plan to begin releasing original music in mid-September 2026. My debut album has been recorded and is now in the final stage of production. It is not a declaration that I have found my sound; it is a record of searching for it. I have tried several styles because I do not want to decide too early what Master Wen is allowed to sound like.

The album is built around one theme: LOVE. But that means more than romantic love. It includes family, friendship, dreams and the small acts of kindness that pass between people. The style changes from song to song because each kind of love asks for a different musical language, but the emotional centre remains the same.

ANOMIE: If you could collaborate with any artist in the world, who would it be and why?

MASTER WEN: Bruno Mars. He can draw from R&B, funk, pop, soul and earlier eras without the music ever feeling assembled from references. Everything has a purpose, yet it sounds effortless, which is often the result of enormous discipline.

What I admire most is how complete he is: the voice, the musicianship, the visual taste, the stage instinct and the understanding of a song. A great singer is not simply someone who hits every note or displays extraordinary skill; they make every note feel inevitable. If we ever worked together, I would want to learn how he makes such a high level of craft disappear, leaving the audience with the emotion rather than an awareness of the technique.

ANOMIE: What would you like people outside China to understand about Chinese musicians and music culture today?

MASTER WEN: First, there is no single “Chinese sound”. China is vast, and musicians today are shaped by the global internet just as their peers are elsewhere. We grew up hearing R&B, hip-hop, pop, rock and Afrobeats while also living inside our own languages, dialects, regional traditions and family histories. Much of the most interesting work happens where those experiences meet.

Traditional Chinese music is not a museum object, and contemporary Chinese musicians are not simply copying the West. The real question is how to make work that can travel without flattening what makes it ours. Musicians across China are answering that question in very different ways. I would love international listeners and music professionals to come here not with a fixed idea of what Chinese music should sound like, but ready to hear how diverse and fast-changing it actually is.

ANOMIE: Finally, what would you like to say to the fans who discovered you through social media?

MASTER WEN: First, thank you for stopping. Social media is designed to keep moving, so every person who gave one of my songs a few minutes, or stayed with me for years, made a choice I do not take lightly. The internet allowed people who might never have crossed paths to meet through a single performance.

But I want social media to be the doorway, not the destination. The next chapter is original records and real rooms: more cities, more countries and more chances to look an audience in the eye. Wherever we are, I hope we keep finding one another—not only through a screen, but through the music itself.

You can keep up with Master Wen's releases here