Pulse.ph : MUSIC + CULTURE
December 27th, 2006
THE PULSE.PH TOP 10 SONGS OF 2006
December 21st, 2006
First reaction upon listening to The Best of Manila Sound: Hopia, Mani, Popcorn
Rocksteddy’s version of “No Touch” sucks ass.
December 21st, 2006
Their first song on Salindiwa’s One starts with the smoothest intro I’ve ever heard to open an album, then the lyric, “Buksan ang pinto…” is like an invitation to what you feel is not your usual album. Of course, you expect this anyway, given that Salindiwa is not your usual band, either. Some people may argue that Salindiwa is too niche, but I disagree. I think if you like R&B, you’re going to like this album. If you like jazz, you’re going to like this album. If you like blues you’re going to like this album. If you like fusion, you’re going to like this album. If you like good music, you’re going to like this album. That’s a lot of people already, yes, I think so. “Pinto†is a sonic assault without being loud—yes it’s possible, as you can hear on this very first song. It’s also got all these textures and layers over that easy groove, combining different aspects from different genres and blending them smoothly. Yes, I know it’s called fusion, but I felt the one word couldn’t even begin to describe Salindiwa’s music. The second song, “Bahid,” has a more R&B vibe, though the instrumental leans toward rock, with keys, bass and guitars playing off each other. It settles back into its original R&B groove before ending with a blistering guitar solo that seems to come out of nowhere. Then the album gets even more laid back on “Camille,” with its ultra dreamy melodies. Vocalist Maik Arce’s R&B background is most prominent on this song. While the first three songs on the album do have the same feel, you can’t say they sound like the same song, as there are just so many elements in between. And just when you start to think that this is the tone for the whole album, they change it up on you. There’s an allusion to an unrecognizable Filipino folk song on “Buang,” particularly a waltz at the start and in the middle; despite this, it’s the heaviest song in the album. Filled with frenetic energy that rushes frantically to a proposed climax, but changes gears always at the very brink of it, the vocals “Wag kang mawawala…” soaring over the other instruments going faster and faster is my favorite part of the song, and maybe of the entire album. Many times through the course of the album, you stop and think what amazing musicians guitarist Kakoy Legaspi, bassist Franz Magat, keyboardist Nikko Rivera and drummer Paolo Manuel are. There’s no specific moment when one or the other or all astound you with some brilliant musical passage, they seem to do this randomly. As if it were your usual. They outdo themselves on “Ilodmodai,†which is mostly instrumental, punctuated by cellphone noise sampling and long solos from each instrument. It’s almost like watching a live gig of an improv jazz band, and hey, who’s playing sax? While all this musicianship could also go wrong if overdone, Maik Arce does a great job of keeping it all together and keeping the music accessible. His silky voice comes across best on “Zeros and Ones,†the most bluesy track, and “Dina,†an R&B flavored ballad. Lyrics are simple, but effective. Take for example: “Tayo ba’y nabubuhay, para lamang mamatay?” from “Bahid.†Actually, there are also some witty puns, such as on “Dina,†which you assume is the name of some girl the song is for, then you hear the lyric, “Di na aasa pa…†If they weren’t playing the kind of music that would seriously blow you away, it’d be easier to see through their pranks. The album gets even better toward the end. “For Years” is a quieter ballad, in that majestic Dave Matthews Band sense, while “Irie” is the most jubilant song on the album, and the most dancey, also. “Rajah Juan†starts out bluesy but is actually, generally, on a reggae beat, accented by blues harp trills. Then the chorus starts to veer away from the reggae, entering a more jazzy realm before exiting to blues again for the solos. And, again, more astounding instrumentals—the band’s really pushing the fusion ticket with this last song. But what the album really does is make me want to watch them live. See ya at the next gig!
December 15th, 2006
CRAZY, WONDERFUL KATELYN TARVER
She’s being marketed as a younger, more wholesome Britney Spears. And when you point out the resemblance to her, she smiles and says, “I get that a lot.†To her credit, there’s not a hint of pompousness in that response—Katelyn Tarver, at 16 years old, is just saying that as a fact, that people compare her to Britney, nothing to boast about or be ashamed of either. “I’ll take that as a compliment, because she’s really pretty. Yeah, but hopefully I’ll be able to achieve as much success as she has.†Britney comparisons can only go so far, because it doesn’t look as if Katelyn’s following in her footsteps. She performed solo during her mall performances here, but “back home†she usually performs with a band. Also none of her dancing is choreographed. At the presscon organized for her by her Philippine distributor, Universal Records, several journalists attempted to grill her about this image of hers, what her image was exactly, what her influences were, did she know how to play a musical instrument, etc. Katelyn gamely answered, saying that her dad is teaching her to play the guitar but “You know, it’s kind of hard, learning from your dad. So…â€; that she listened to different kinds of music and isn’t influenced by any one particular artist, “I just sing how I sing,†she summed it up; and instead of explaining what her image is supposed to be, she responds that “my music is always positive and I always try to give a positive message. And my songs are just fun pop songs that are fun to listen to with your friends.†She chuckles softly and says, “I think that was what I was trying to go for.†It’s far too early for her to figure out what she is in terms of music and image, in any case. As of the moment, Katelyn is promoting her first album and single, both titled “Wonderful/Crazy,†also incidentally one of her favorite songs from the album—“Just because you know it talks about how your life is wonderful but crazy and exciting all at the same time. So, I can kinda relate to that right now.†This small-town girl from Georgia isn’t entirely new to the music business, however, being one of the three finalists on American Idol Juniors, a kid version of the highly popular singing contest. “I always sang when I was little, of course, with a hairbrush and the mirror,†she relates. “But I never really thought of it as a career until I was on American Juniors, because I’m from this small town, and that’s not what you do when you’re from a small town, go after a singing career. So, when I was on the show, and got out of Glenville, which is the town that I’m from, and just performed each week, I really fell in love with it, so that’s when I was thirteen. Really thought about pursuing it seriously at 13.†She was thirteen years old at the time of American Idol Juniors, but sang songs like Donna Summer’s “On the Radio†and the Carpenters’ “We’ve Only Just Begun,†songs she had never heard before they were given to her to sing on the show. “They gave me a CD and they’re like, ‘This is the song you’re singing this week.’ So, I didn’t really have a choice of what I sang, but fortunately enough, I really loved “On The Radio,†that was a fun one to perform and the Karen Carpenter song, it’s a pretty song too.†It was also on the show where she had an idea of what her strengths were as a singer, which is why she isn’t currently stressing over what image she ought to project. “At the beginning, I sang ‘Ain’t No Mountain High Enough’ and that is the song that, you know, got me into the Top 10 as a finalist. Then, after that, they kept giving me slower-tempoed songs and I couldn’t really perform them, and I love performing, it’s what I love to do. And finally, they gave me an upbeat song, or we convinced them to give me an upbeat song, called ‘Tell Him.’ And that was when I got to perform and show my personality a little bit more and that’s when the judges were like, ‘Oh, okay. Here we go!’†Thankfully for the kids on American Juniors (which is what Katelyn calls the show), there’s no Simon Cowell-type on the panel of judges. The regular judges were Gladys Knight and Debbie Gibson and they had a guest judge come in every week, including Brian McKnight and Dionne Warwick. Of the judges, Katelyn thought Gladys Knight gave her the best advice. “I really liked Gladys Knight, she was just so nice to us and she was just always encouraging us to have fun and not take it too seriously and just have fun on the way and I really believed that. She was really nice.†Just because you were on AI Juniors doesn’t necessarily mean you make it to the big time. Katelyn has the option of trying her luck on American Idol also, but that means that she’ll have to line up and audition like everyone else. She’s not too keen on it, though. “I already did the younger one and so… I don’t know if I wanna do the older one. It looks like fun but I wanna see if I can make it without American Idol, but you never know.†Photos from Katelyn Tarver Online. Katelyn Tarver’s “Wonderful/Crazy†was recently charting on local radio. You might have been dancing along to it on one of your late afternoon commutes. Check out more of Katelyn Tarver here.
December 15th, 2006
Last July, I read an entry on Francis “Kiko†Reyes’ blog, where he talked about his excitement and his qualms over re-recording The Dawn’s old songs for this, their anniversary album. The band had always wanted to re-record their material, especially after the release of 2000’s Prodigal Sun, what with new technology and the chance to do justice to their songs. If a band is able to stick it out for twenty years, the opportunity to preserve their music with the best possible means should be grabbed. Speaking as a fan of the The Dawn from way back, I understand the reluctance to redo the songs, especially the ones the late Teddy Diaz played guitar on. After all, those are essentially his songs and, to quote drummer Junboy Leonor from Mike Sandejas’ movie, this is Teddy’s band. The Dawn themselves attest that they only continued the band as a tribute to his memory. However, Teddy is by now a legend, and a different guitarist, or rather the guitarist of the Dawn for most of the band’s history, recording his music shouldn’t be a sign of disrespect to his memory at all. As I told Kiko, if any guitarist had to do it, Teddy must be proud that it’s him. Another concern of the band was that maybe the fans would not like the reworked songs. Now that I have the CD in my player, I can say that it’s not a big jump from what they sounded like on our old cassette tapes (and, some will say, turntables, ha ha). And if you’re a true fan of the band, if you’ve seen them play live even a few times in the last five years, you will find that the re-recorded tracks sound like they do when they’re played at gigs. The reworked songs are, in a sense, “better†than the original versions, better recorded, a bit faster, and definitely not tunog-lata anymore. “Alam Ko, Alam Niyo†sounds like it was written only recently, like it came from the Prodigal Sun album. Some tracks have more obvious changes, such as the harmonica (supplied by Andre Medina) on “Abot Kamay†and the sax (c/o Raffy Francisco, who played Ratty Ratbunitata in the movie) on “Talaga Naman.†I have to confess, I was not a fan of “Talaga Naman†at all, but I like this new version a lot better, it’s more soothing and less, dare I say, baduy. In a sense, it’s a reinvention. The music matures, so to speak. Aside from the old songs, I really like the new songs as well. “Ang Iyong Paalam†and “Difference†still have “The Dawn†stamped over them, but with a more contemporary sound. The band has this knack for writing songs that will give you LSS. I’m singing “Change is breaking us apart†and have to stop in mid-“Oh-oh-oh…†because I realize I’m in the office and people are looking over their cubicle walls at me. Latest member Buddy Zabala plays bass on all the songs except for “Tulad Ng Dati,†the only song from their last album—Harapin— that’s on this commemorative album. It’s on this album because, aside from an anniversary album, Tulad Ng Dati is also the official soundtrack to the band’s semi-fictional biopic. The two-in-one function well explains Disc 2—an Audio VCD that includes the movie’s trailer and a slew of videos that seem to trace the history of the band, starting with a clip of Teddy’s famous Ultra Storm guitar solo, complete with make-up and violin bow. It is stunning, and in surprisingly high resolution. I had goosebumps the entire four minutes I was watching it. The next videos are “Iisang Bangka Tayo,†with Carlos Balcells on bass and Junboy and Kiko and their legendary long hair, “Harapin Ang Liwanag†featuring guitarist Atsushi Matsuura and bassist Mon Legaspi, then the last three are videos from Harapin featuring the band as a quartet again: vocalist Jett Pangan, Francis Reyes, Junboy Leonor and Mon Legaspi. And now they have the movie, with Buddy as their bassist, and everything comes full circle.
December 14th, 2006
LUNATICS LET LOOSE IN THE ASYLUM: PINOY ROCK IN 2006
Old punks often tell truths. Musically, that’s all they’re really supposed to have—plus two or maybe three chords. (Sometimes four.) But past forty, they get too responsible to be stupid—and perhaps too respectable to get into the gear—so that the truth is all there is: loud and noisy even after all the years, without the guitars and amps. Former Absolute Zero, former Betrayed bassist Je Bautista has his thoughts on the Pinoy music scene in the 1980s—undoubtedly a tumultuous period in our nation’s recent history. “For all intents and purposes, the local scene from two-odd decades past was a mish-mash of different musical approaches that defied musical genres and much of the convoluted pigeonholing that is so prevalent nowadays,” he writes. “So-called musical borders were practically non-existent and such openness only served to enrich the creative burst of energy that may as well have been attributed to pre-pubescent passions.” “If Pinoy Rock was supposedly born in the 1970s, it would have been on a hormonal binge as a teenager with burning sensations in the 1980s,” laughs Bautista. Following the metaphor, “alternatib”—as Pinoy Rock came to be known in the 90s—showed that it had matured and was ready to be heard in the mainstream. Led by bands like The Eraserheads, Yano and Rivermaya, rock n’ roll dominated popular culture, leaving some pundits to wonder amidst the ubiquity of anthems such as “Pare Ko,” “Banal na Aso, Santong Kabayo” and “Awit ng Kabataan” if they were actually the alternative or now the mainstream. (Even today, it is not uncommon for bands to label themselves “alternative”, becoming confused—even discombobulated—if asked point-blank, “Alternative to what?”) But for all the success, Pinoy Rock—particularly its young audience and a few of the artists themselves—exhibited an alarming puritanical streak, delineating their tribe against other genres. Inevitably, “rockers” hated “hip-hoppers” and vice-versa—and everybody hated “pop”. Even Francis M.’s collaborations with the Eraserheads seemed only tolerated because of Magalona’s appropriation of rock and even metal on his 1995 FreeMan LP. Upstart radio station LA 105.9 (which prided itself on championing OPM, particularly rock) was reported to have incited both “rockers” and “hip-hoppers,” resulting in several skirmishes between the camps in various shopping malls. It would take the emergence in 2000 of local rap-metal or Nu-metal with bands like Slapshock, Greyhoundz and Cheese, to finally put the feud to rest. After the demise of Nu-Metal (derogatorily referred to locally as “kupaw”) after the country’s premiere rock station NU 107.5 changed formats and the acoustic craze that made Paolo Santos famous helped kill it, the best local music was being made and released independently. Toti Dalmacion, known for being the original drummer for seminal band The Aga Mulach Experience and mover behind Groove Nation, put up Terno Recordings and released Orange & Lemons’ first LPLove in the Land of Rubber Shoes and Dirty Ice Cream, a debut that was unabashedly swaggering with Anglophilia and power pop. At first, Dalamacion envisioned his label as being exclusively devoted to releasing “indie” pop—much like 4AD and Creation. Eventually it found itself being host to bands as different as Radioactive Sago Project, Drip, Up dharma Down and Wahijuara. But the trend and tone of the music scene was set in 2000 by no other than Rivermaya who—after some squabbles with their record label BMG—decided to give away their latest album for free, the first seismic shift that would alter Pinoy Rock and lay the groundwork for the coming years. In 2006, rock music still dominates—but exactly who in rock dominates is unclear. From advertising jingles to TV themes, bands like Kamikazee, Hale and The Itchyworms are earning more in a few months than any of the bands from the 90s boom (including The Eraserheads) made during their heyday. Record store Odyssey sales reports also indicate that 80% of record sales are comprised of local albums, with a good number falling under the “rock” genre. But what exactly is Pinoy Rock these days? It really isn’t that rock n’ roll actually pays but rather, what exactly is it really today? If you take a cursory listen to all the top acts in the charts today it’s quite noticeable that not one style—be it metal, rap, emo or pop—has led the trend. Unlike in the past, Pinoy Rock is not a homogeneous creature anymore; these days it’s more accurate to describe it as a chimera—an incongruous monster that has gobbled up the industry. The past two years have marked a freefall for the scene. All bets are off. The lunatics have taken over the asylum. Even the country’s biggest act at the moment, Bamboo, acknowledged the free-for-all spirit of the times with their second album, Light Peace Love. Aside from anthems in the vein of their breakthrough single, “Noypi,” this time the 4-piece throw in just about everything from art-pop (‘Dinner for 6”) to aching R&B (“Much Has Been Said”). Bassist Nathan Azarcon himself admits that the songs on the album are indeed disparate from each other, held together only by the band’s conviction and their singer Bamboo Mañalac’s vocals. The music does indeed play the band. But things have gotten decidedly more interesting. Weirder. Whereas punks before needed only two or maybe three chords, the new breed were happy to discard these altogether. The independent release S.A.B.A.W. is an anthology of experimental, electronic and noise recorded by local artists, some formed as far back as the late 80s/early 90s. It features elder statesmen in the sound-art scene like the multi-media Children of the Cathode Ray (featuring tech-journalist Jing Garcia, media artist/guitarist Blums Borres and acclaimed filmmaker Tad Ermitaño among others), noise terrorists Elemento and Foodshelter&Clothing. to young upstarts like the abstract-rock outfit EAT TAE and modern classical composers like Teresa Barroza. If nothing else, the album is a document of recent times up to the present, making perfect sense amidst the Futurist cacophony that assaults anybody on EDSA during the late afternoon. The cover art itself by visual artist Poklong Anading aptly represents/depicts this savage, noisier era: against a backdrop of flypaper, everything that is thrown on the wall sticks—not just the flies. If you check out any one of the many rock joints in Metro Manila—from 70’s Bistro to Saguijo, Gweilos to Kolumn, Mayric’s to Capone’s—you’ll find all manner of beasts there. Not just the usual suspects. Soul and R&B has found a niche in the rock clubs. Singers like Armi Mallare of current favorites Up dharma Down or groups like The Chilitees represent the latter in various degrees, building on the efforts of local bluesmen such as Binky Lampano to develop a truly Filipino expression of the form. Even hip-hop, the kind unadulterated by the rap-rock fusion, made its presence felt in “da club”—and no 50 cent covers or bling bling tolerated whatsoever. A.M.P.O.N. (or Absolute Messages Personified Over Noise) is a 20-plus strong collective of progressive hip-hop heads ranging from MC’s to beat-boxers, DJ’s to producers. Dubbing themselves as “ART-CORE HIP HOP,” they released their opening salvo, Dekoding Rhythm, this year with the express intention of “destroying the façade of hiphop.” Not to be dismissed as merely naïve malcontents, their polemic is hard as nails, as is their music, which runs the gamut from sparse—almost Spartan—instrumentation to dense instrumentals. “Independent as fuck,” is a maxim the group has learned to run by. Not to be taken lightly at all. But perhaps the most significant group to come out this decade—not necessarily the most popular, but the one that captures the spirit of the moment—is Radioactive Sago Project. This bands of refuseniks is fronted by former Dead Ends guitarist and award-winning writer Lourd de Veyra and his brother Francis, and rounded out by music majors from U.P. Diliman’s College of Music. Originally a spoken-word jazz ensemble, the band gets more restless with each year, incorporating hardcore, funk, metal and muzak into their sound. Essentially it’s frontman de Veyra who ties the clashing elements together, channeling Jello Biafra, Jack Sikat and Jackson Pollock to contextualize the action painting of the band’s music. As of this writing they’re in the final stages of mixing their third LP (under Dalmacion’s Terno Recordings) entitled, Tangina Mo Ang Daming Nagugutom Sa Mundo Fashionista Ka Pa Rin—if first single “Wasak na Wasak” (or “Total Wreck” as it’s subtitled in R.A. Rivera’s music video) is anything to go by, the album title is the least of their concerns. The band’s irreverent brand of iconoclasm has always led them to embrace pronouncements of “commercial suicide” ever since their first album. Despite this, they enjoy a surprising high profile in the mainstream—whether advertising is appropriating their music as jingles, or they’re flying to Geneva to play a gig protesting the WTO. The music is thriving, but space is limited to tackle every uprising across the archipelago. It should be noted that Cebu and the Visayas in general has risen to prominence as music hotspots. Artist like Urbandub, Junior Kilat, The Ambassadors, Sheila and the Insects and Cueshé have all come out in their own ways to reach nationwide popularity. Electronica—or electronic music—is attracting attention via pioneering acts like Drip and Nyko Maca, as well as Intelligent Dance Music (or IDM) practitoners like Moon Fear Moon or Mu Arae Transmission. As always, the underground scene that germinated from punk and has developed into myriad aggressive, fringe genres (too specialized for classification or discussion by this writer) are still going strong—unmindful probably of their place or of anyone else’s in this article. Hardcore bands like Beauty of Doubt or Throw (fronted by legendary Dead Ends frontman Al Dimalanta) aren’t looking to get shown on MTV or MYX anytime soon. (Or ever.) It seems rock n’ roll has transcended its own skin, but that is of course so broad a statement that simply turning on the radio or the TV disproves it. In fact, most of the artists highlighted in this piece almost never get played anywhere (even Sago). The point is not to highlight what’s popular, but what’s happening and what’s changing. And damn if that’s going to happen in between commercial breaks. As we move further from the 20th century, it’s anybody’s guess where else Pinoy Rock or truly Original Pinoy Music will go and what sort of passions it will inspire. Our prayer is that it doesn’t get too smart. Too clever and it becomes a business—and that’s the death of everything. Besides, who’s really made money by playing great music in this country? Most of the time, it just ages you before your time. (Except punks—they seem to stay young.) Benign and cheery, Bautista himself says about the punk scene in the 80’s, it was mainly kids “being stupid.” (Probably if he played jazz, his face would resemble an ashtray.) Listening to the best music today, it’s evident that—in that respect—nothing’s really changed. And the thing with stupidity is that you can always count on it. Somehow, in this context, that’s a welcome thought.
December 13th, 2006
Listen to Pinoy radio for a while, and you’ll realize: anyone can write a love song. Just string a few chords together, bleat some candy-coated words about missing someone or wanting someone, and you might just have the makings of an AM classic for the ages. But writing a really good love song, one that is sincere without being sappy, one with a really good tune that is immediately accessible yet surprising at the same time, one that, dare we say it, contains real Pinoy soul—well, that’s something else. That’s something songwriters have to really work at. That’s also something that Sugarfree seems to be able to do on an astonishingly regular basis. Read more…
December 13th, 2006
I really wanted to like Session Road’s new album, Bakit Hindi. It starts off superbly—I was an instant fan of “Blanko,†with its feel-good melodies and unexpected stops and starts and changes in dynamics. Also, you just want to sing along and believe you share the same level of angst. I mean, for a song that’s about not being able to feel anything, it has so much feeling, doesn’t it? And, then, I liked the songs that followed, “Beautiful Day†and “Hiram,†although the former sounds exactly like the kind of song you’d expect from a girl-fronted pop-rock band and the third song didn’t stick to me as easily as the first two did. Then, I noticed that the rest of the songs didn’t stick with me either. “Nawawala†has the same feel as “Blanko†though not as anthemic; I’m not saying the band was getting formulaic, these songs just felt the same. And then, as I went through the album, I realized that a lot of the tracks sort of sound like one of the first few songs or a combination of two or three previous songs. Again, I’m not saying that they were following a formula, more like the impulses for the songs came from the same place. The problem, I think, is that there are just so many songs on this album—fifteen full tracks, not counting the interludes. I know that a group of songs on an album inevitably bear similarities, what with the band’s specific style, much like the pieces in a designer’s collection, the artworks in a painter’s exhibit, and so on. However, in the case of Bakit Hindi, not a lot of the songs really stand out. Of course, “Landian†does, because it’s sung by a guy and it’s basically set to a reggae beat. I like the ballad “Fly,†because it starts off acoustic, adding the other instruments after the first chorus, and I’m able to appreciate the simplicity of just a guitar backing Hannah’s voice. And “Preno†stands out because of its tempo changes, and its allusion to Katrina and the Waves’ “Walking on Sunshine†at the beginning. These are small things, though, and they stand out only on the third or fourth listen. I even think I would like the songs better if I heard them individually instead of all together in one or two gos. Neither am I saying that the songs should sound poles apart from each other. “Steady†is drastically different from the other songs in album, but almost to the point where it’s out of place, and there are other songs of the original mold that are stronger. So, it’s not an issue of writing a song that’s different, but more deciding which songs to put on—or leave out of—the album to make it sound tighter. The interludes could be attempts to unify the songs, but since they’re ethnic-sounding, they serve more to divert from the album’s overall sound. Or, at least, that’s how it seems to me. Meanwhile, I’m going to listen to “Blanko†again. I recommend that you do, too.
December 12th, 2006
*Note: Check out Aldus Santos’ Top 10 Pinoy Lyricists on List-O-Mania, then look at the discussion on the message boards, then come back here. Or not, haha. I was online with Aldus Santos, a really good friend of mine, and we were discussing his list of Top 10 Lyricists, he was asking particularly if there should be anyone in the list who is not, or not in the list who is. I thought the list fine as it was, but told him that some people were wondering where Ebe Dancel was. Aldus replied, while Ebe is a superb writer, he was not included in the list because he’s more a storyteller than a poet. I had to agree with that and say that to anyone who would bring it up. (Strangely, more people discuss with me what’s on Pulse instead of posting their opinions on the message boards, but that should be another concern entirely). I didn’t tell Aldus this, but I thought he should have included himself in the list, were it not weird to be championing yourself in a list that you wrote. So, I’ll say it for him. Like I said, I’m his friend, so I was privy to these song lyrics (and countless lyrics he had written for songs they no longer perform) before anyone else heard them, and I didn’t know at first if I loved these lyrics of his because he’s my friend and I’m biased, or because he’s truly brilliant. Later, and sometimes even now, I hear people say or I get to read comments on the Purplechickens mailing list how the lyrics of the songs really move them and I’m so proud and glad that it’s not just me. Of the songs that the public knows, my favorite lines are: “May in lab na hindi nagmamahal, hindi nagmamahal…” – from “May In Lab Na Nagpapatiwakal” “She is sometimes the universe She is sometimes the world…” – from “Eyelash Envy” “The one who walks fast is the one who’s dreaming, submarining…” – from “Ars Terror,” which you all know as the song with “Lately, baby…” “Well, come to me: I’ll see you disgraced. Welcome to me: you were a name and a face. Come back to me— waltzing with grace. Find yourself another one, find yourself another… Lover…” - from “Common Cold,” which ironically is about the same girl as in “Ars Terror” except this came at the end of their tumultuous relationship. The whole song rocks, actually, but I don’t think I can put all the lyrics here without permission. “All I need is a straight rule: You have gone too far…” – from “Dream Systems” “Stuttering, I breezed through my bits and my parts This is this: I will be the whole wide world, crumbling…” – from “Cupboard Song” Funnily enough, I was in Eastwood with Aldus and Adrian when Aldus first showed me the lyrics to “Cupboard Song.” He wrote it in the back of the notebook I always carried with me, and we were picking it apart and he was singing to me while Aids, who was having girl problems at the time, would look at us as if we were talking about him, how paranoid, hehe. I was singing the lyrics of “Cupboard Song” from the back of my notebook for the next few weeks after that before I was able to hear what it actually sounded like. Of the songs that the band kept to themselves and didn’t put in their album (though some appear on the accompanying EP), my favorite lines are: “Why do you spit with your back to me I’m not your patient, wish I could be…” – from “Digit Con,” a most brilliant song but was co-written with someone else not in the band (if I remember correctly) so they didn’t put it in the album “Can you see the world? I was shining, have you heard? You don’t have to hate me, just because I’m on death row, take a ride in my sport scar…” – from “Sport Scar,” which is one of my favorite Manox songs of all time “I’m here but I cannot add…” – from “Parade Rain” which Aldus wrote about a lost cause. No, I don’t mean his math skills. “It’s the same, I shall announce you, falling cathedrals in the mean meantime The comedy’s over, I deny any part…” – from “God Save My Secrets,” which never fails to make me tear up. And from “Lady Light,” their supposed “hit song” which they buried because they didn’t want to be known for just that one song, I was once texting (original) Purplechickens bassist Mayo Martin about this guy I was becoming smitten with, and I used these lyrics: “I don’t know, (you’re) keeping me awake at night… And it’s true… This is criminal…” No, this isn’t to plug Aldus’ new collection of poetry, which is being launched tonight at Conspiracy, and no, this isn’t a happy birthday greeting. But now that you mention it… Happy birthday Tos, may you write more beautiful lyrics for the next albums and books and the next…
December 12th, 2006
I admit that I don’t usually listen to a lot of pop, but I really tuned myself to pop mode to review this album. I guess I wanted to like it, or give it a chance at least, because this guy was the Grand Champion of Pinoy Pop Superstar this year, and he only joined the contest to pay for his mother’s hospital bills. I mean, wouldn’t you want to like an album made from such good intentions? But of course, good intentions don’t always make great albums. This album isn’t horrible, and I suppose people who love this kind of music, and are already fans of Gerald Santos, would really appreciate it. But it doesn’t go beyond that simple achievement. At best, it’s got a bunch of nice ballads that would sound great on radio. Side by side on the album, though, they tend to sound the same, because each song has the same feel to it and Gerald Santos tends to sing them all the same way. So, individually, songs are good, particularly “Mahal Kita.†Collectively, I’ll need some coffee, please. I’m also a bit concerned about the fact that Gerald Santos was the Pinoy Pop Superstar Grand Champion. I sometimes watch Pinoy Pop Superstar (it’s actually my singing contest addict sister who watches, but then she watches most everything from Philippine Idol to American Idol, to the Rockstar series, to Pinoy Dream Academy, to Little Big Star and, yes, she can stand it when Regine continues to outdo her own outro spiel that of course goes “Pinoy Pop SooO-per-STAAAR!!!â€), and I know that winning, unlike on Starstruck and Pinoy Idol, is based on the judges’ decisions and not through SMS-based voting. So, I’m surprised that this handsome boy won, when, if I remember correctly, the girl he was up against was a much better singer. Vocally, Gerald Santos sounds good enough to be on a sentimental ballad album but not the type of voice to win a singing contest hosted by the biggest voice in the country. I guess I also expected that kind of Grand Champion album, which is why I’m out of sorts with what I ended up listening to. The title “A Day on the Rainbow†should have given it away, no? Of course, I can imagine that none of my concerns would affect how Gerald Santos does on the pop market. I bet album sales will be huge, regardless of intentions or conclusions. Till next season of Pinoy Pop SooO-per-STAAAR!!!
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