Back in 2011, Angry Asian Man was celebrating its 10th anniversary, and Patrick "DJ Phatrick" Huang and I had been asked by Phil and his wife to DJ the party. It was a packed event, filled mostly with people like ourselves: Asian American Gen Xers and older Millennials. Naturally, at some point, Phatrick and I turned to each other and asked, "So when are we going to play 'Bizarre Love Triangle'?"
Odds are, as you're reading this on Angry Asian Man, you're already in on the joke but just in case: for many Asian Americans who came of age in the 1980s and 1990s, New Order's 1986 synth-pop classic "Bizarre Love Triangle" (BLT) serves as an unofficial Asian American anthem. (Note: it's the 12" remix by Shep Pettibone that's the anthem, not the original LP mix.) In fact, back in 1995, not even a decade after the single's release, music writer Ben Kim told the Chicago Reader, "There's a cliché that the Asian American youth anthem is 'Bizarre Love Triangle.'"
Over the years, writers have offered different explanations for BLT's enduring popularity. Despite different explanations, the core conclusion remains the same: somehow, four white musicians from Manchester, England created one of the most enduring touchstones in Asian American musical memory.
In 2023, I had an opportunity to revisit this phenomenon for a paper I presented at that year's Pop Conference. As others had already written thoughtfully about BLT, I figured my contribution as a sociology professor would be to collect some data on how/why BLT rose to such beloved prominence in the community. Phil graciously allowed me to recruit respondents through this site, and the survey ultimately drew more than 1,200 responses.
Most respondents ended up being Asian American Gen Xers and older Millennials who grew up in the United States. The largest ethnic groups represented were Chinese, Filipina/o, Korean, and Taiwanese respondents, though more than a dozen Asian ethnic backgrounds appeared in the data. The sample was also unusually educated, with almost everyone indicating they completed at least a four-year college degree.
Recently, I finally found the time to begin writing up a proper academic article on this research. But since the single turns 40 years old this week, I thought I'd share a few of the most interesting takeaways from the project with you all:
Roughly 1/3rd of respondents agreed that they thought of BLT as an Asian American anthem, another third thought it was popular among Asian Americans but not necessarily as an anthem, and a third didn't think of the song in an Asian American context. This is a reminder that Asian Americans are far from monolithic, not least of which is around their cultural tastes, but nonetheless, a sizable plurality of the community does think of BLT as occupying a special, vaunted status. I describe those folks as "Anthemers."
They share some general demographic similarities. As anticipated, Anthemers were overwhelmingly made up of Gen Xers and older millennials who first encountered BLT as adolescents. Taiwanese and Korean American respondents were the most likely to be Anthemers; Japanese and South Asian Americans were among the least likely to be. In terms of where people grew up, there was a stronger association between Anthemers and states like Illinois, New Jersey and Massachusetts compared to California (I suspect this is because the massive size and diversity of California's Asian American population creates a greater mix of opinions regarding the song's importance, thereby "diluting" the Anthemer presence in Cali).
However, in the end, the greatest indicators about whether or not someone was an Anthemer wasn't about ethnicity, gender, or geography: it was about the social dimensions behind how they encountered the song itself. We asked all survey-takers how they were introduced to BLT. Here's the top responses:
| Introduction Source | % of Anthemers |
| Friends | 65.0% |
| Radio | 27.9% |
| Family members | 24.9% |
| Clubs/raves | 15.4% |
| High School / College Parties | 14.1% |
| Record / Music Stores | 8.5% |
| Music Videos | 5.3% |
| Camp / Youth Programs | 3.4% |
| Other (residual) | 2.5% |
What this suggests is that Anthemers associate the song as an Asian American anthem because BLT was present at various points in their life when they were spending time with other Asian Americans be it summer camps in East Texas, church parties in North Virginia, sorority events at Rutgers, or, if you were like, in a friend's car, careening down the 110, everyone inside yelling, "everytime I see you falling, I get down on my knees and pray." In other words, Anthemers became Anthemers because BLT weaved its way into frequent and recurrent moments where Asian Americans gathered, partied, danced, and ultimately, came to see themselves as part of the same community.
In fact, part of the survey also asked respondents to offer their own explanation as to BLT's symbolic importance to Asian Americans. It was fascinating to comb through those as some people pointed to the music itself, praising the song's synth-pop sound, danceability, and overall popularity in the New Wave scene. Others focused on Bernard Sumner's lyrics and themes of longing, uncertainty, and not quite fitting in; all very relatable Asian American feelings.
One respondent — it turned out to be my wife! — memorably described BLT as sounding like "a lonely robot longing for love," while someone else suggested the song felt "angsty yet upbeat, outsider-y yet safe, Western yet not American." (In my formal article, I also include some musicological analysis from a Filipino American musician in the Midwest who explains how BLT's chord progressions and harmonic structure may contribute to its appeal among Asian Americans.)
But overwhelmingly, what came up most often were memories of where and how people heard BLT: at house parties, school dances, weddings, summer camps, college mixers, and conferences. Again and again, respondents described the same scene: the song starts, people recognize it instantly, and suddenly the parquet is packed.
One respondent remembered that BLT was simply "passed from kid to kid, older sibling to younger sibling." Another recalled "the immediate collective gasp and dash to the dance floor" that occurred whenever the opening notes kicked in. Respondents may have had different ideas of why BLT became an anthem but they were far more consistent about what happened whenever it played. The power of BLT, for whatever reason, is how the song connects us with others like us: the moment of recognition of the song is also a moment of recognition of who we are relative to each other. That's what an anthem does: it's a sonic marker of identity and allegiance in which, even for the briefest of moments, we look across a room as the synths hit, and think simultaneously: "hey, this is our song."
When DJ Phatrick and I finally decided to drop BLT in the middle of the Angry Asian Man anniversary party, not only did cheers and screams immediately ring out within two bars of the song opening but before Bernard Sumner's voice entered the room, I'm fairly certain a circle of dancers formed. I hypothesize that no song in the history of humanity has been more effective at inspiring Asian American circle-dancing than "Bizarre Love Triangle"... but that's a data collection project for another time.
Thanks to Phil Yu for allowing me to post the original 2023 survey here and thanks to all folks who took the survey. If you'd like to receive a copy of the final version, let me know here.
Oliver Wang is a professor of sociology at CSU-Long Beach and a regular writer on music, arts and culture. He and Patrick Huang are currently developing a new podcast on the songs of Asian America.
