Chapter Forty-Five: The Top Ten Golden Melody Awards Ceremony

The Top Ten Songs Awards Ceremony is organized by Hong Kong Television Broadcasting Limited, and was first held on January 28, 1984. The inaugural event was officially titled the 1983 Top Ten Songs Awards Ceremony.

On this night, the Hong Kong Coliseum in Hung Hom was ablaze with lights, the entire stadium filled to the brim. Countless fans cheered and screamed wildly inside, holding up large posters of their idols, waving glow sticks, and shouting their names to show support and encouragement.

For many fans, this was a day worth celebrating. Even outside the coliseum, groups of fans who couldn’t enter clustered together, watching the large screens outside or crowding at the doors, hoping for a glimpse of their beloved stars. Just seeing them, or even shaking hands, would be enough to satisfy these fans. If lucky, they might get an autograph or a photo with their idol.

Because Amin was a guest performer, and thanks to Yan Xu and his Dragon Records' recent successes, the awards ceremony’s VIP area had a place for Yan Xu and his team.

Yan Xu was visibly excited. Though he was already the owner of two companies, he was still just a young man in his twenties. Whether in his previous life or this one, it was his first time attending an awards ceremony. There wasn’t yet the later tradition of walking the red carpet, but the atmosphere was enough to fill him with curiosity and excitement.

He had thought he would be indifferent to seeing celebrities, but actually being among them felt entirely different. Looking at the stars in the front row, all regulars at the awards: Alan Tam, Anita Mui, Danny Chan, Lo Wen, and Leslie Cheung were all in their prime. Alan Tam hadn’t yet entered his notorious two-wife era, Anita Mui hadn’t been stricken by cancer, and Leslie Cheung hadn’t left behind the tragic joke of April Fool’s Day. This was the beginning of their brilliance.

Behind those front rows of red-hot stars and celebrities sat renowned producers, heads of major record companies, and some lyricists and composers. Yan Xu’s seat in the VIP area wasn’t particularly close to the stage; Dragon Records was still a small company. In Hong Kong, there were at least dozens like them. Around him were other small record company owners or representatives. Meeting each other, they exchanged business cards and polite greetings. Because of Yan Xu’s fame as a director, many small company bosses and representatives tried to establish connections with him, hoping he might feature their artists in new films. Before long, he had collected a thick stack of business cards.

Compared to the lively chaos in the back rows, the front was much quieter, conversations held in hushed tones. Yan Xu believed that one day his company would earn a place in those front rows.

“The 1984 Top Ten Songs Awards Ceremony now begins. Our hosts tonight are Mr. Ho Sau-sum and Miss Yu Zheng...” Amid a rousing drumbeat, the stage lights gradually brightened, and the male and female hosts walked gracefully to the front.

Ho Sau-sum was the golden host of Hong Kong, having served as host for the Miss Hong Kong pageant for fifteen years. Elegant and genteel in appearance, his “Kick the Rabbit” style entrance was memorable. In Yan Xu’s memory, this should be his last time hosting the awards; soon after, he would flee to Canada due to a scandalous extortion case.

Yu Zheng, a formidable woman, wore a very loose black and white long-sleeved coat. She was a powerhouse in broadcasting, truly an “emperor among employees,” and even contributed to naming the band Tat Ming Pair. Of course, now that Liu Yida was under Yan Xu’s wing, she wouldn’t have the chance. The title “God of Song” for Jacky Cheung was also bestowed by her. Most gossip-worthy was her reputation as a tomboy among lesbians, with rumors linking her to many female stars.

After their entrance and some formal words, the hosts introduced the program flow and judges, followed by a song-and-dance performance by the nominated singers—a collaborative piece specially composed to commemorate the rise of the year’s new phenomenon: the Music Video.

Compared to the previous ceremony, there was marked progress in song quality, diversity of styles, live energy, atmosphere, multimedia technology, and even the costumes and styling of the performers. The pace of development in Hong Kong’s music scene at the time was truly astonishing—like a thousand miles covered in a single day.

Of course, there were still differences from later awards ceremonies, most notably the lack of participation by guest award presenters, which meant less excitement.

The first to take the stage was Sally Yeh, who had recently shifted her career focus to Hong Kong. Her song “Ten Past Midnight” immediately claimed the first top song award. Dressed in a black, tight-fitting dress with voluminous, curly hair, her mature appearance belied her mere twenty-three years.

Next was the principal Alan Tam with “Love in Late Autumn.” In his thirties, he had maintained his youthful looks for decades. As a superstar, he handled any occasion with ease, even joking about his own name on stage. Yan Xu had once been his fan, especially when hearing him perform the new song “Love Trap,” which made Yan Xu’s blood boil. It had always been a must-sing at karaoke for Yan Xu, one of his favorites, and this was the first time he had heard it live.

The third top song, “Years Flow Like Water,” was performed by Anita Mui, whose outfit was dazzling: a white trench coat, black top hat, and a completely masculine look that was revolutionary for the era. This masculine attire, combined with steady stage presence and cool expressions, gave her a unique charm.

Fourth and fifth were “Heavenly Voice” by Guan Zhengjie and “Lonely Again” by Jenny. One was an amateur singer, the other a diva with powerful lungs; both delivered brilliant performances. But Yan Xu most anticipated the guest performer who would follow them.

Vivian Chow’s album was on the verge of reaching platinum sales, and Yan Xu believed that after this awards ceremony, her album sales would soar.

“What’s wrong? Are you nervous?” Sensing Lou Kwan-ting beside him stiffen, Yan Xu asked quietly.

“A little,” Lou Kwan-ting nodded.

“We’ve prepared thoroughly this time. Are you still worried our song won’t make it? Besides, you’ve already heard Amin sing. As long as she performs as usual, it will be a success!” Yan Xu said. They had worked tirelessly for Vivian Chow’s performance, with Yan Xu’s golden touch providing a new song, and after Lou Kwan-ting’s re-arrangement, the result was astonishing.

“I’m not worried about the song. But Amin is facing such a big occasion for the first time—I don’t know if she can command the stage.” It was Vivian Chow’s first time at such a grand event. She represented not only herself, but also Dragon Records. Lou Kwan-ting had gone to great lengths to secure this guest performance slot. Even if it couldn’t be an instant hit, it at least had to be respectable.

“Relax, I believe Amin will do just fine. She was born for this.” Yan Xu wasn’t particularly worried about Vivian Chow holding the stage. In recent days, her performances at various campus events had increasingly revealed the aura of a superstar.