07.03.2007
TYPECAST BRINGS THE DRAMA
UP FROM THE UNDERGROUND, THIS UNCOMPROMISING BAND TALKS ABOUT THEIR SECOND ALBUM, THE LAGUNA MUSIC SCENE, AND THE DISTANCE FROM HAPPINESS
I first heard of Typecast from my teenaged cousins, who were all eager to start their own band and dressed in black T-shirts, dark jeans and sneakers. I was half eavesdropping as they debated over whether My Chemical Romance was the shiznit or was it all just hype and how everybody seemed to want to be My Chemical Romance these days. I chuckled to myself about how fun it was to be in high school and feel so passionate and knowledgeable about the music they listened to. And then one of them said, "But what about Typecast?" And they all paused, grinned, sighed and said, "Typecast rocks."
Incidentally, they're not the only people who feel this way. Many rock fans will say this easily if you ask them what they think about Typecast: they're highly regarded as one of today's most important bands, the kind which you headline when you have a gig or a prod, to encourage audience attendance.
I interviewed Typecast in Greenbelt 3, where a bar tour was trying to offer harder rock to a more upscale market. The band didn't seem very trusting nor comfortable, but were at least polite as they tried to answer my questions. I thought that Chi Resurreccion was their drummer because he kept banging out a rhythm on the table. Turns out he was the bassist. Steve Badiola was right away the most magnetic one, which is good for them since he was their frontman. I'm saying "magnetic" because he was also more quiet than the other guys, but he had this presence, and it's weird really because he's not a big person. He also used to be the only guitarist in the band, but they eventually got an old friend, Pakoy Fletchero, formerly of the band Unheard, to help him out. The actual drummer, Melvin Macatiag, is perhaps the most cynical, most caustic guy in a band I've ever met, but I guess his personality just conforms to the kind of band they are and the music they play.
Typecast is an emo band. Sometimes, they're okay with that label, sometimes it makes them uncomfortable, most recently probably because a popular band from Manila has been milking the emo for all its worth. I make the distinction "band from Manila" because Typecast hails from Sta. Rosa, Laguna, and has been playing emo even before emo was fashion. In fact, when they were starting out, they were the only emo band in Sta. Rosa, where most music makers tended towards hardcore.
Let's digress a bit. That's one of the cool things about the Laguna music scene, I find out, that the different municipalities have large scenes of specific genres. "Pag Sta. Rosa kasi, usually mga banda, mga hardcore," Pakoy explains. "Pag San Pablo, mga emo, sa Pacita, mga punk rock, tsaka yung mga San Pedro, may hardcore din at ska." But he says just because a particular region produces bands that are into a particular sound doesn't mean they diss everybody else. "Basta nasa underground scene ka, lahat naman magkakilala so lahat ng klase ng music napapakinggan nila. Pag may gig naman, unite naman sila, talagang as in, magkakakilala din silang lahat, kasi isang community talaga."
I'm quite impressed that the band scene in Laguna is so huge, and I wonder how it was nurtured. "Ang masarap kasi sa Laguna, kasi mahilig mag research ang mga bata doon eh," Chi relates. "Hindi lang sila basta kung anong narinig nila sa radyo, parang meron silang outlet [to trade mix tapes]. Pero dati, nung mga early days namin, wala pa kasing mga CD noon, so mostly nagt-trade kami ng mix-tape, nag-re-record record kami, so doon na talaga kumalat ang scene, trade kami ng fanzine, ng cassette tapes, yung mga trip naming banda. Pero mostly, kasi nga, ayaw din kasi ng mga Laguna crew sa mainstream side, parang gumawa kami ng sarili naming community, where it's hardcore, punk rock, ganoon."
Melvin adds, "Sa MIRC unang kumalat, kasi dati, hindi pa uso ang mga bar gigs. So mostly, sa chat." Pakoy agrees, "May channel kasi yung Pinoy Punk, tapos kami kami rin yung mga nandoon. Yung mga nasa eksena." Music aficionados went online to talk about new music and if ever there was a gig thrown together, it was never really in a bar. "Kung saan lang pwede," Pakoy says as his bandmates help him out, naming a friend's house, or a gym. "Kung saan pwedeng magpa-gig, kung saan libre. Usually kasi sa siyudad, meron doong abandoned na clubhouse, doon usually lagi. Historical yung siyudad, kasi may mga foreign acts na rin na pumunta roon. Mga underground na banda rin."
Today, there are bars in Laguna that feature underground bands, but they kind of miss the old set up. "Nami-miss na namin tumugtog doon sa dati naming tinutugtugan, tapos ngayon puro bar, tapos, hindi na masaya, kumbaga parang may kaniya kaniyang mundo yung mga banda. Di tulad ng isang scene, lahat, sobrang dikit talaga lahat ng banda."
"Yung mga metalhead sa Laguna, mga hardcore, pero pag malambot na tugtugan na, walang girian, walang kumpetensiya," Steve offers.
It's the crowds that buy their albums and flock to their gigs that made Typecast popular not only in Laguna, but also in Manila, and even in provinces they wouldn't expect to have fans but do. "Usually yung mga probinsiya na gig, masaya," Steve relates. "Nagugulat kami minsan, pupunta kami sa lugar na 'to, maraming nakikinig pala sa amin, nagugulat kami. Sa Laguna kasi, steady lang kasi yung mga tao, kaya yung mga makukulit na eksena, labas ng Laguna."
"Yung di namin alam, may cult following na pala kami," Chi chuckles. "Yung mga ganoon. Maraming mga bata na (yells) 'Typecast fan yon,' ganoon."
"Lalo na yung mga probinsiya na," Melvin adds, "talagang dinadaanan namin bundok na, wala nang sibilisasyon. Tapos, pagdating namin, ang daming tao." I ask how they managed to amass such fans in far flung places. "Through the net siguro, mga MySpace."
"Through word of mouth," Steve adds.
Melvin nods. "Actually doon din nagsimula ang Typecast eh, through word of mouth."
"Oo," Pakoy agrees. "Nung time na yon, nawala ako sandali sa eksena. Pero may mga nagkukuwento sa akin na may bago ngayon na banda, may punk rock na banda, may emo na banda ngayon, sila. Tapos nagulat ako kasi si Melvin, kilala ko lang through sa school lang. Tapos ayun, na-meet ko sila, sabi ko, Okay pala 'tong mga 'to. Hanggang sa lagi na kami nakakasabay sa gigs. Masaya."
Their latest album, Every Moss and Cobweb, released late last year, took two years to follow the last one, The Infatuation is Always There. "Actually we had a hard time paggawa ng kanta, so hindi kami makabuo ng talagang gusto namin," Melvin shares. Steve nods and adds, "Tsaka nagka-changes sa mga buhay namin, eto, tumanda kami ng konti, so mas bagong mga challenges, kung baga, nag-adjust pa yung band. Parang ganoon yung pagkakaintindi ko na ngayon, kasi ayun nga. So medyo tumagal yung songwriting process atsaka yung mga sa melodies… ayan, si Pakoy din, andoon, bago rin siyang member. Ayun kung baga, lay low lang ng konti. Tapos umabot din ako sa punto na hindi din ako makasulat, so medyo tumagal."
I mention that the title sounded quite goth, and Steve is somewhat troubled, somewhat amused by this. "Kung gusto nila ganoon yung tunog, kung ganoon ang pagkakaintindi, okay lang sa amin pero galing lang siya doon sa… yun nga, tumanda nga kami ng kaunti, kung baga merong mga bagong nangyari. Kung baga, mas sumeryoso ng konti yung buhay. Kaya ganoon, Every Moss and Cobweb, tapos yung album two years in the making pa, pwede mong sabihin na unting writer’s block, kasi ang tagal, two years yon di ba? Tapos puro gigs, so ayun, out of every moss and cobweb, nagkaroon ng album. Parang ganoon. Medyo simple lang pero sana na-gets… Na-gets mo ba?"
"Na-gets ko naman," I admit. I then ask if anything about the sound has changed, and ask if they're still sad.
"Malungkot ba ako?" Steve asks his bandmates. "Hindi naman, di ba?"
"Okay lang, hindi naman," Melvin assures him, before turning to me. "Kasi doon namin nakukuha yung lakas namin, eh, writing sad songs. Kasi mostly din naman from experience din namin yung nangyayari, yung sinusulat namin. So parang siguro, pwede rin kaming makagawa ng masayang kanta pero siguro…"
"Ngayon hindi," Steve finishes for him.
"Sa ngayon hindi pa namin kaya," Melvin asserts.
Other than the sadness, I noticed that Typecast's songs end with a long instrumental outro. They tell me that it's become a trademark, a signature of their songwriting.
"Tsaka parang sa amin din kasi," Melvin explains, "Minsan parang gusto rin naming maramdaman ng tao yung feel nung kanta, hindi lang sa lyrics, kundi rin sa mga riff."
"Sa actions din, sa mga ginagawa namin," Steve nods. "Tsaka yun, signature na namin yun starting dati pa. Minsan susulat ako ng kanta na sobrang iksi. One verse lang, tapos ang haba ng song."
"Yan ang parang tinatawag na natural way ng paggawa namin ng kanta," Melvin shares. "Kahit siguro makagawa kami ulit ng kanta, ganon pa rin yung mangyayari. Natural."
"Or baka wala nang kanta, instrumental lang talaga," says Steve the lead singer. "Parang ganoon."
"Ang sarap kasi tumugtog eh," Melvin relates. "Ngayon ang nangyayari eh, simula nung nadagdagan kami ng isang miyembro, more on music na kami. So, siguro, kung may darating na album na susunod, parang yun yung bibigyan namin ng pansin ng una, ipa-prioritize namin ang structure ng music."
"Bale magi-iba, pero Typecast pa rin," Steve assures. "Parang ang pinagkaiba noon, yung Infatuation tsaka Every Moss. Yun pa rin yung style pero nagbago yung theme niya."
Right now, the band is quite busy. "Promotion, consistent touring, doon lang umiikot," Melvin says, describing what their lives are like right now. "Tapos, gawa ng kanta pagka may free time, pero sa ngayon wala pa, kasi sobrang hectic ng schedule."
Their current single, "Boston Drama," was written by Melvin about a girl who moved to Boston. The way Steve sings it is quite tortured and the sadness is emphasized by the accompanying music. In some way, it would seem as if Typecast is laughing at itself by adding 'Drama' to the title, but you can tell that they do sound quite sincere. Ironically though, some experiences, though immortalized through a song, can eventually just become that—a song. I ask him, has he ever been to Boston? He replies, "Not yet."
Do you plan to go? "Hindi na," he says and suddenly laughs, which I find quite uncharacteristic of his tough veneer. "Masaya na ako."
Pictures from Typecast’s MySpace. Check out Typecast online here and join their mailing list here.
