A City’s Rock ’n’ Roll Fantasy Meets Die-Hard Bureaucrats

SHIJIAZHUANG, China—Memphis has Elvis Presley. Liverpool has the Beatles. The northern Chinese industrial city of Shijiazhuang has to make do with the Omnipotent Youth Society, a local indie-rock band that found national fame from a song unfavorably titled “Kill That Guy From Shijiazhuang.”

Local boosters are determined to build this city on rock ’n’ roll, no matter the hurdles. The effort has also run into discord from unhappy residents—and has to contend with the city’s own bureaucracy. Every music performance in China needs to be vetted, down to a band’s costumes and lyrics, and officials have long acted more like The Man than rock rebels.

They came up with the idea—call it Shijiazhuang Rock City—to boost spending and tourism after a postpandemic slump. The push started this summer, with more than 100 concerts and other events to try to get residents and out-of-towners to local malls and parks.

In one initiative, local bands performed on subway trains, generating buzz on social media—not all of it positive. A widely viewed video this summer showed a guitar-and-vocal duo performing a song about mundane life in the city. They were interrupted by an annoyed commuter.

“Hey, are you done?” the man said. “Now sing a song that people would like.”

Shijiazhuang has a decent claim to being China’s premier rock destination. The Omnipotent Youth Society was formed there in 1996. Two of China’s oldest rock magazines, Popular Music and I Love Rock ’n’ Roll, were also founded there.

All have collided with Shijiazhuang’s bureaucrats. Local officials shut down both magazines in the past decade. One magazine moved to another city and the other scrapped its final issue and dismissed its staff.

Two years ago, the provincial Communist Party Youth League tweaked Omnipotent Youth Society’s signature song, “Kill That Guy From Shijiazhuang,” about the hopelessness of one family’s life trapped in the city. In the hands of the league, the song became “Unkillable Shijiazhuang Guy” and turned into one of triumph for the city. In the new version, lyrics like “Lived like this for 30 years, until the building collapses” became “Twenty years of dramatic transformation, our [city] is forging ahead.”

Officials pulled the subsequent music video after a torrent of mockery online.

As the city began promoting rock this summer, officials didn’t forgo their usual role of monitoring the stage. In a July concert outside of the official program, the bassist in a local rock band called Police and Pea was caught on video playing in his underwear. After footage circulated, the real police shut down the venue and slapped it with a $28,000 fine. They also detained the bass player for about a week.

The band issued a statement explaining that the bass player, Ding Xiaolong, had worn pink boxer shorts with a piglet print on it as a costume for the show, and that he was wearing his actual underwear beneath it.

Rock Duan, an editor of I Love Rock ’n’ Roll magazine, now a digital magazine and record label based in the nearby city of Baoding, compared Ding’s arrest to executing a general at the beginning of a crucial battle.

“The moment he was punished, the campaign was dead,” Duan said.

The city boosters have soldiered on, staging performances in parks, malls, tourist sites and inside a school. One senior official told a Communist Party outlet in July it was all in the service of building “a charismatic city combining music, entertainment, food and tourism.”

The push starts with the name of Shijiazhuang, which can be translated as “Rock Home Town”—an association the city has played up on merchandise. Other Chinese cities and regions have staged their own events after pandemic lockdowns, such as basketball tournaments and barbecue festivals.

Earlier this year, city officials sat down with local musicians and club owners to brainstorm ways to promote rock in the city. One recurring question, according to musicians who participated: What is rock ’n’ roll?

“The officials have little sense of what rock ’n’ roll is, but that’s fine—they will learn as they get more involved,” Nie Yong, a member of local band Melon Seeds, said. He told them rock was less about anger or any particular musical sound, but rather about kindness and love.

And never mind rock’s history of rebellion. Xing Di, the lead singer of Horizon, which came together in the 1990s and is sometimes called Shijiazhuang’s first rock band, argued that caution was key to easing local officials into promoting what is, at least in China, an underground culture.

“I advised them to find the positive elements in rock, such as perseverance,” Xing said, highlighting John Lennon’s message of love and harmony in his 1971 hit “Imagine.”

Li Bingyu, manager of a state-owned company that helped to organize some of the official shows, underscored the importance of ensuring that artists and their work are vetted before they take to the stage.

“So far, the shows have been smooth,” she said in September. “Nothing too radical.”

A show Shijiazhuang authorities put on that month that drew a crowd in the thousands started with two moderators touting the Rock Home Town campaign in the style of state television variety show presenters, followed by a fireworks display.

Omnipotent Youth Society was part of the lineup. The band was even able to perform “Kill That Guy From Shijiazhuang” in its original form, after organizers played up the song’s message of tenacity and grit to authorities.

“We don’t see too much rebellion in the song,” Li explained. “Rock ’n’ roll can be harmonious.”

Shijiazhuang wrapped up its first official rock season in October. Its mayor, Ma Yujun, vowed that the show must go on.

“We were on fire,” he said in a forum in which he announced the city’s future music ambitions. “I’m waiting in Shijiazhuang for your visit.”

Zhao Yueling contributed to this article.

Write to Wenxin Fan at wenxin.fan@wsj.com