During the late 1940s, the golden age of Shanghai's post-war pop scene, Chang Loo would sit at home listening intently to the radio, occasionally joining in with her favourite singers. Her hardworking parents had little time for such pursuits, considering the saccharine songs of the era frivolous. But the teenager, whose only chance to sing was at school where students were encouraged to croon Western songs to improve their English, worshipped the stars of the airwaves. None more so than Chow Hsuan, China's most popular diva and star of the silver screen. Chow, and other great singer/actresses such as Bai Hong, Bai Kwong and Li Xianglan, were idolised as fiercely as were Judy Garland, Rita Hayworth, Jeanette MacDonald and Ella Fitzgerald in the West. All were beautiful, talented women who embodied their era.
Swinging Shanghai revelled in its reputation as the Hollywood of the East. Music and movies were treasured for their escapism during the hard times of the first Sino-Japanese War and then the Pacific War. Throughout the late 20s and 30s, blues, jazz and Mandarin pop (known as shi dai qu or 'songs of the times') added Western influences to the traditional mix of opera and folk music. More than 30 radio stations sprang up to cater for the seemingly insatiable demand for music, night clubs thrived and the sale of 78s soared as phonograph ownership grew.
At school, Chang's cute, girlish voice distinguished her as a special talent, and someone suggested she audition to sing on a radio show. Soon, she had a radio slot - although, at first, she dared not tell her parents for fear they would find it disreputable - mostly singing covers of her idol Chow Hsuan's famous songs. 'I had to sing her songs. She was such a big star,' gushes Chang, sounding genuinely awed more than 55 years later. 'She was not just a singer - she was a movie star.'
The teenager's career earned her $8 a month singing twice a day on the radio, a sum that enabled her to overcome objections from her parents. 'My mother was always so poor. She made flowers to support us,' says Chang. 'I said, 'Mummy, don't worry, I can make good money.''
Good money soon became great money. Talent scouts from the Pathe label (now EMI), which owned 90 per cent of the music industry in Shanghai, picked her and three other recruits to record a few 78s. When it came to recording, the girls arrived at Pathe's grandiose studios to perform with a band of about 20 Russian musicians. The songs were recorded in mono and singers only had one take to get it right. 'If you got it wrong, you would be very embarrassed,' says Chang. 'When the red light came on my heart jumped, but I controlled it.'
Nerves got the better of another girl who was unable to record her song. Chang came to the rescue and ended up with the rare privilege of releasing her debut songs on both sides of the record. The songs, loosely translated as Spring In The Alley and I Want To Break Free, were both originals, quick-tempo numbers with a catchy hook that proved popular. 'I was very lucky, I was only 16 then,' recalls Chang. Now 71, Chang is a diminutive, fuller-figured woman than the shapely chanteuse seen in photographs of the period, and, with big-rimmed glasses and her joyful manners, comes across more like a kindly grandmother than a diva in her twilight. She retired in the late 60s, to be succeeded in the music world by her son, Canto-pop star Alex To.
The success of her debut led to her joining the roster of Pathe singers in Shanghai. 'I found it very easy,' she says, 'because I had sung all the songs at home already. I never made many mistakes. I was young, I wasn't afraid. When I started, Pathe always gave me happy songs because they captured my spirit. I was always smiling, carefree,' she says.