He never got a statue, or a street named after him. Yet among vinyl collectors around the world, one name keeps resurfacing whenever the conversation turns to Cambodian rock of the 1960s and '70s: Yol Aularong. Far from the sentimental ballads that made stars of Sinn Sisamouth or Ros Serey Sothea, this fiery artist forged a style all his own — biting, ironic, almost punk before its time. His story, largely left in the shadows, deserves to be told.

In the Phnom Penh of Cambodia's musical golden age, Meas Samon stood out in a register all his own: comic, satirical song. A notable figure on the Khmer rock and psychedelic scene of the late 1960s and early 1970s, he was one of the few artists of his generation to make audiences laugh while slipping in a genuine critical eye on Cambodian society. His career, like that of so many musicians of the era, would be brutally cut short by the Khmer Rouge.