Pulse.ph : MUSIC + CULTURE
June 20th, 2007
MARCUS ADORO OF THE LEGENDARY ERASERHEADS SPEAKS TO ALDUS SANTOS ABOUT HIS CURRENT BAND, HIS UNRELEASED MASTERPIECE, AND GETTING ON THE INTERNETS.
June 15th, 2007
When you first hear the band name Bagetsafonik, you think right away that they’re a fun band playing irreverent, funny music. You also see color and psychedelia and wild, wild nights of pure hedonism. You may also see, though this doesn’t work for everybody, the faces of Aga Muhlach, William Martinez, JC Bonnin, Raymond Lauchengco… you know, the original Bagets, back when they were all barely famous and still had milk around their lips. Well, none of them are in this band, and thank God. Bagetsafonik’s music, contrary to expectations, does not consist of revivals of “Growing Up” and other music from the 1984 Bagets movie. The band members describe the music as a cross between dream pop and new wave, though there are also elements of hip-hop, as Marcushiro tends to rap every now and then. Officially part of the band as the guy in charge of synths and analog samplers, Marcus is joined by vocalist/ guitarist Ace Cada, guitarist/ effects guy Paolo Francisco, drummer/ percussionist Doi Lagos, and bassist/ all-around cute boy (by his own admission) Tom Barba. They got together in late 2003, from an idea that formed in Doi’s head while hanging out at his bar, Café 77. He and his friends had always been interested in the band scene and making music, and the other guys were just hanging around the bar all the time. Marcus had his own band and Doi would organize open mic nights, and he thought: how hard can having your own band be? “Actually, wala kaming concept kung ano yung magiging tunog namin, pero meron na, nauna na talaga yung pangalan,” Marcus offers. “Gusto kasi ni Doi, sabi niya, ‘Gawa tayo ng banda, pero gusto ko may something, may Bagets doon.’ Tapos dinagdagan lang namin ng Fonik para may suggestion siya na ‘sound,’ may sound, ‘sound of Bagets,’ parang ganoon.” He grins and adds, “So kami yung matatandang Bagets.” “Sabi ko nga na parang napaka-rare na ginagamit yung word these days,” Doi explains, “Tapos sabi ko, sige, gawa tayo ng banda pero gusto ko may word na ‘Bagets’.” “Tsaka iconic na rin,” Tom agrees. “Tsaka parang ano na rin, bow to… our generation. Because we’re old,” Doi chuckles. He shakes his head, “Hinde, bow sa 80s, kasi lahat kami lumaki sa 80s… except for Tom… pero lahat kami 80s boys.” “Pero yung sound niyo may pagka-80s din siya,” I point out. “Hindi namin sinadya,” Doi assures. “Nauna yung pangalan tapos nagkataon lang na the sound came out na medyo 80s yung feeling. Pero wala namang intention to do it.” “Originally, we wanted to do Tito Vic and Joey covers as a joke,” Ace continues. “Pero when we started writing, na-realize namin na parang hey, pwede palang mag-write ng original material na hindi Tito Vic and Joey, so sige, dire-deretso, mag-write tayo ng new songs. Ayun.” “There wasn’t really a definite sound that we agreed upon,” says Paolo, who was the last guy to join the band. “Parang we started jamming and from there, that’s where the sound came about. And at that time, Doi was playing cajon, instead of drums, he didn’t really know how to play the drums back then.” “Yeah,” Ace agrees, “We started out with percussions.” “So, yung sound namin, in a way, parang naging experimental na rin, kasi we really didn’t have an idea of paano yung set-up,” Paolo explains. “Kasi iba-iba yung influences namin in terms of music. But eventually it all gelled, came into place. Ayun, kaya may mga songs kami na medyo new wave yung dating, yung ibang songs, medyo hip-hop. Iba-iba eh. May parang Eraserheads influence, hindi naman, parang mga OPM-inspired. Mga ganoon.” He breaks into a grin, quite surprising on his usually serious face and shares, “I mean, yung first, I think, I remember, may didgeridoo pa kami dati.” I was envisioning a didgeridoo player, probably even a native Australian, who made didgeridoo sessioning his bread and butter and started feeling bad for him when they explained that he wasn’t a real didgeridoo player—well, he was, but he was also more a graphic artist and painter and couldn’t continue with the band when his schedules got too hectic. “Nandoon siya sa original na line-up talaga,” Marcus says, “Pero honorary member siya.” Ace agrees, “Honorary member. Hi, Jason Moss!” Even if their sound was experimental in the beginning, it was Marcushiro’s otherworldly soundscape contributions that eventually defined the band against the others starting up at that time, earning them a slot on Fete de la Musique’s electronica stage for two years. There was no drum set up on the electronica stage, which didn’t really pose a problem for Doi, who was playing cajon the first year and couldn’t make it to the second. The rest of the band instead utilized drum machines and sequencers. When you listen to their current sound, you can’t imagine how a cajon would be able to keep everyone together, but they assure me that they really sounded different back then. “Nung naka-cajon si Doi, medyo toned down yung sound,” Ace explains. “Nung nag-switch to drums, nagbago yung instrumentation to adjust to him.” Marcus adds, “Yun kasi yung isang restriction kasi dati nung nag-start kami. Hindi kami pwede mag-areglo ng mga mabibigat or yung mga malalakas yung levels ng mga instruments, so nagco-compensate kami doon sa tunog ng cajon para di siya masapawan.” “At that time, sobrang open kami sa kung anong klaseng sound ang pwede naming magawa and open-minded lang talaga kaming lahat, in terms of musical direction,” Paolo emphasizes. “May kanta nga kami na polka eh,” Ace adds. I cock an eye at him and ask, “Really?’ He then bursts into somewhat embarrassed laughter and admits he’s joking. Alright, no polka, but the result is definitely eclectic—80s-sounding new wave laced with ambient sounds, sometimes pouring into hip-hop. They play around with their sound a lot, they say. On writing the songs, Tom explains, “Usually, it begins with Ace or Doi or Marcus writing a song, and then they introduce it, di ba they give the chords, tapos patong-patong lang. Di ba? Kasi yun naman yung elements ng band, parang meron talagang center, tapos ngayon may mga laro-laro, ganyan-ganyan, di ba?” “The basic song structure, the skeleton of the songs, ipre-present sa band. If everybody likes it, kaniya kaniyang dagdag na. It’s always a group effort,” Ace elaborates. Marcus adds, “Actually lahat kami sa band nagsusulat ng songs namin.” Their sound has definitely grown over the years. “Nung nagca-cajon pa si Doi,” Marcus shares, “ang gamit ko samplers pa lang eh, so parang mga ambient sounds talaga. And then nag-try akong mag-synthesizers, so up to now, hindi naman ako talagang marunong mag-synths eh. Nagkukunwari lang ako… Pero yun, isa yun sa mga nagpakapal ng tunog namin. At ng mukha ko,” he laughs. “At saka nag-grow na rin yung chemistry as a band,” Ace offers, as Doi adds, “At saka siguro yung mga gadgets [that Marcus and the guitarists use], tapos si Tom nagpalit ng bass so mas maganda yung tunog.” “Makabagong teknolohiya talaga,” Paolo nods. “Yun yung Fonik.” I’m interviewing Bagetsafonik outside Route 196, while The Ronnies are playing inside. Compared to the fun-filled 80s covers that dominate The Ronnies’ setlist, Bagetsafonik sounds serious, almost melancholy. So, scratch that about envisioning them as a fun band playing irreverent, funny music. However, offstage, the individual band members are actually quite funny and they’re all very game. Tom is going on and on about his realization that face value doesn’t quite cut it in the current music scene. Paolo warns everyone not to heckle and interrupt him when it’s his turn to speak. Ace inserts how much he loves Pulse every now and then while explaining serious matters. And at one point, in between songs, Bagetsafonik are called into the bar. But of course, as we are in the middle of the interview, they decline and send their apologies as The Ronnies launch into Erasure’s “Always.” Later, I ask them, “Were you expected to jam?” “We were supposed to dance,” they reply with straight faces. But the point really is about having fun. “We set out with this band to have fun,” Ace clarifies. “And we’ve been having fun for three years, it’s been one hell of a ride.” “It’s satisfying,” Tom offers, “because we’ve been playing for three years and now we have a distinct thing, we have an album na and we can put our songs in it.” The band laugh and heckle him, “Anong ibig mo sabihing distinct thing?” “Hindi ko alam, tsong eh,” Tom says, “Parang meron na something tangible to show the people.” “Parang napaka-satisfying na finally we’re coming out with something na eto, eto na, eto yung ginawa namin for three years…” Ace nods. “Ito na yung culmination ng lahat,” Tom grins. “Like any other band, parang yung simula, hinahanap pa namin yung chemistry as a band,” Paolo adds. “Pero pagdating sa recording, doon na nagkaroon ng full creative maturity. Kasi iba talaga yung live performances sa studio eh, I mean, marami talaga kaming napagdaanan talagang mga live gigs, I mean from small gigs to big gigs, from gigs na talagang walang nanunood to gigs na sobrang laki na I don’t know, siguro nakaka-overwhelm din, in a way.” “Atsaka lumalim yung friendship namin,” Marcus points out. “Tsaka we got a lot of help din from other bands, like Morse,” Tom adds. Paolo agrees. “Marami kaming friends in the music scene na…” “Mga peers…” Marcus offers “Oo, mga peers,” Paolo continues, “na malaki ang tinulong sa confidence namin, shout-out kay Mr. Wolfmann.” “Tsaka, yun nga eh, minsan nakaka-overwhelm,” Marcus adds, “kasi minsan sobrang invite-in kami ng production na iba yung mga tugtugan tapos kami isasali nila doon tapos nakaka-adapt kami doon.” “Locked Down!” Ace interjects. “Locked Down reprezent!” “Tsaka na-realize namin na hindi pala kami pwede madala by face value alone,” Tom quips, which sends the band into laughter. “Kailangan pala may tugtog din! Hindi pala pwedeng gwaping lang.” “Wala naman sa aming trained musically,” Doi puts in once the laughter has died down. “I mean, nung simula naman hindi naman kami ganun ka-bihasa sa instrumento namin. So yun, masaya yung three years namin.” They’re actually appalled when I ask them if they’ve amassed leagues of fans yet. “We’ve amassed friends,” Ace emphasizes. They’re not the kind of band out for world domination, but they do appreciate when people they look up to give them compliments. “We’ve gained respect din doon sa mga bands na parang iniidolo namin. Iba rin ang pakiramdam din noon,” Marcus says. Doi shares, “Ako, pinakamasarap sa akin dati, kasi sobrang Eraserheads fan ako, tapos, di siyempre di ko pa kilala sila Raimund, si Raimund Marasigan. Tapos may narinig ako sa kaniya na ‘Huy, tsong, galing ng tugtog niyo,’ ganoon, parang ang sarap makarinig noon, coming from Raimund Marasigan.” “Tsaka for an early band, parang that’s what keeps you going,” Tom emphasizes. “Parang after ng gig mo, other bands will approach you and say na, ‘Uy, ang ganda ng music niyo ah,’ di ba?” Ace nods and adds, “Masarap marinig.” Their new album is going to be called Travelogue, because as Ace puts it, “the past three years have been such a ride, it’s been such a journey. Tapos, nung minsan, napag-usapan namin yung sound and what we really want to achieve with the album is to come out with something that you’ll put in your CD player and go on a road trip, it’s like a soundtrack for a road trip. So Travelogue, I think it’s fitting.” Although there were efforts to get the band signed to a major label, they’re looking more at the prospect of producing independently. “Ang goal pa rin namin is independent talaga,” says Marcus. “So ayun, kung swertehin, di okay. Kung hindi, push pa rin namin talaga yung album.” The songs include “Clarity,” a “love song” which former manager Bernie Sim describes as “a slow burn,” which Ace describes as, “not your straightforward ‘I love you, so love me too,’ love song, “It’s medyo frustrated, medyo… bittersweet. I don’t want to say jaded, so bittersweet.” Another track, “Song for the Sunlight,” has Marcushiro rapping on it. “Matagal ko nang sinulat, before pa nung band,” Marcus shares, “And then talagang nung ginawa ko yun, inisip ko rap talaga siya na song. Tapos nung pinresent ko sa band, nagustuhan nila, so inareglo namin na mag-aapply dun sa tunog na ginagawa namin.” Being a band that has amassed friends, they have had different directors and producers offering to make their music video, and are currently waiting for three completed videos: “Saccharine” by Team Manila, “Automatic,” by Mark Mendoza and “Halogen,” by DJ Arbie Won. “Ang nakakatuwa rin, there’s lots of people na napapanood kami so yung mga directors, ganyan, nag-o-offer silang gawan ko kayo ng video for free,” Doi smiles. Marcus adds, “Ang dali lang makakuha ng suporta, parang gagawa sila ng something for us, kami naman, in a way, tinutulungan din namin sila, so masaya.” The album was produced by Bagetsafonik and Dan Gil, another friend made through the years, who offered his Liquid Post as a recording studio. Marcus shares, “Actually, there’s a track na meron contribution si Dan, with saxophone, sobrang ganda ng kinalabasan, nagtunog talagang 80s siya.” The album was mixed by Liquid Post’s Noel Nunez. With two graphic artists in the band (Marcus and Ace), you’d expect stunning visuals for their album packaging, but the boys tell me that none of them are doing the artwork, though the concept for the album cover was theirs. Who will execute? “It’s a surprise,” they tease. They’re also inviting surprise guests for the launch, happening late June. Even if the album will be finished earlier, they’d like to wait for Paolo to come home from his business trip abroad, a sure indicator that they’re friends first before a band. Everything’s still up in the air for after the album gets launched, but Bagetsafonik is hoping for the best. “Siyempre gusto namin i-tour, gusto namin i-promote yung album, gusto naming magsulat ng new material, which is already happening, we have siguro 5 or 6 songs na wala sa album.” “Out of town gigs,” Doi beams. “Definitely Boracay.” “International gigs!” Tom grins. “Music videos din ilalabas na namin,” Marcus says, more seriously. “Gusto namin visual talaga,” Tom nods. “Going back to face value…” sending his bandmates into hilarity again. “Basta open kami sa lahat ng possibilities, kung saan makarating yung album, or kung saan kami makarating, okay lang. Wala kaming expectations na malaki pero. “Basta, ilabas na yan,” Ace declares. “Ako, ine-expect ko, makikilala ako ‘pag naglakad kami sa mall,” Doi says in the same tone. I look at him and ask, “Talaga?” Doi laughs and admits, “Hindi, joke lang.” Watch out for Travelogue, Bagetsafonik’s debut album, this June. In the meantime, check them out online here and here. And for kicks, memorize Doi’s face so you can recognize him if you ever see him in a mall. That would give a whole new meaning to “face value.”
June 15th, 2007
Everybody hates tourists. Perhaps it’s a perspective shaped by being a citizen in the 3rd world, wherein tourist trade is primarily foreigners taking holiday snaps of street children to show friends back home, or else cruising for blowjobs from underage sex workers. Maybe it’s the fact that we need their money that makes us despise them even more. This perspective informs our opinions regarding Silent Sanctuary’s current reinvention into “popâ€â€”the musical equivalent of a ghetto—and the resulting album, Fuschiang Pag-Ibig. It’s not that it’s forgettable—a forgivable offense nowadays—but rather that it reeks of tourism, or even worse, slumming. Formerly angling itself as an arty outfit playing symphonic mini-opuses, the group’s decision to have a go at the charts is so willfully bland that it seems borne of half-hearted condescension. It’s one thing to be talked down to by protest singers with their strummed hymns, but it’s quite another thing to be treated like a fool by dilettante pop stars with their insipid ditties. Among others, Pinoy Alternative in the nineties (i.e. The Eraserheads, Rivermaya) is clearly the chief inspiration and template behind the band’s reformatted sound. But whereas the E-Heads’ “Sembreak†seems to come from a shared experience of the past—that common currency of memory and youth—Silent Sanctuary’s current hit “Ikaw Lamang†strikes one as arising from a shared interest in a future abundant with a currency of the much colder kind. None of this is helped by the fact that the whole affair is still chained by the group’s past pretensions. The band insists on slapping on string arrangements needlessly—either just because the string players need to be doing something on that damn stage or as a caveat that this is more than just your average pop tune. However, it’s the same la-di-da singsong—but with strings! Sgt. Pepper? Try E.L.O. It’s self-defeating—as if the band itself is reluctant to flap their arms hard enough. And with wings merely the span of common poultry, the songs are even more weighted down. Harsh? Then let us explain. Despite what Bob Geldof and other opportunist assholes behind things like Live Aid or Live8 might try to spin, rock ‘n’ roll can’t save the world. The only thing it can really do is make money. (If anything, the charity bit is just too good PR to pass up.) Fair enough, if it’s good—but damn it when it doesn’t even try. We’ll make allowances for art—what consenting adults do in that crepuscular area is mainly their business—but once you expose yourself to the garish glare of “pop†you’re peddling a product that should be judged accordingly. Like toothpaste. Or condoms. With all that saccharine, you’ll need the former—and for the compromises, the latter.
June 12th, 2007
I am horrified. All this time, I thought that the first gig I ever went to was the now-legendary Ultra Storm at Araneta Coliseum back in 1987, featuring The Rage, The AMO, and The Dawn. No. It all went down a year before, when my sister took 12-year-old me to Kalesa Bar for a night out with her gal pals. My first experience of live music was at the hands of a show band. I lost my gig-virginity to Side A. Read more…
June 8th, 2007
First, a crash course: Burt Bacharach is arguably the most celebrated songwriter of his day, synonymous with number one hits and all things hip, not excluding James Bond—“The Look of Love†being the theme song of the original Casino Royale flick. (Two decades later Bacharach made a cameo appearance in Austin Powers, performing “I’ll Never Fall In Love Again.â€) Credited with injecting the mellow bossa rhythm into the American mainstream, his trademark recipe of haunting melodies and sophisticated progressions secured him a legacy that still prevails today. It’s no surprise then, since the recent bossa wave flooding our metropolis, that the creative minds behind In Love With Bacharach saw it fit to release a bossa-themed tribute to the godfather of 70s standards and elevator music. This 16-track compilation is highly recommended for Bacharach fans. It features fresh renditions of all your favorite Bacharach hits, done in contemporary fashion. Think Michael Buble: still retaining the essence of the work, with a breath of 21st century appeal. For even though the record adds a slight modern twist to Bacharach’s handiwork, there’s still no escaping his distinct style. All in all, a good effort in updating songs that younger critics would otherwise consider dated. The songs comprise elements of drama and nostalgia, with solid vocal performances from Gail Blanco, Margarita Saludo, Marcus Davis Jr., and Mel Fausto. Producer Ito Rapadas also lends his vocal talent on top of the masterful—albeit safe—musical direction and pristine production. Universal Records might not be winning over younger audiences with this LP, but it’s sure poised to be a big hit at Class of ’69 reunions. Listeners from later generations might find it a little too mellow for their angst-driven tastes, unless of course they’re the sort who can’t live without Sitti or M.Y.M.P. The first three tracks of the record are by far the strongest, thanks to the tasteful arrangement of Fred Garcia and Alkemi Productions. The album opens with wonderful renditions of the aforementioned “I’ll Never Fall in Love Again†and “The Look of Love.†Both possess a great vocal and an infectious bounce in the groove. Gail Blanco’s sexy, silvery timbre hooks you right in. “The Look of Love†is classic Bacharach. The track’s sparse, bittersweet arrangement makes for an intimate atmosphere; the voice gliding over understated strings, and Janno Queyquep’s guitar solos are tastefully executed. Capping off the big three is “Close To You,†still retaining the original lounge-y feel; sweet and precious. But for all their effort, Alkemi and Garcia couldn’t seem to repeat the magic they infused into the first three tracks. By track four, the album starts to take a dip. “Walk On By†and “I Say A Little Prayer†somehow feel lacking. Rapadas’ sentimental acoustic arrangements of “What The World Needs Now†and the mellowed-down revived-in-the-80’s pop classic “Always Something There To Remind Me†also fail to stir the senses. Here’s where M.Y.M.P comes to mind. Perhaps the problem lies within the songs themselves, and not the arrangers. But if you’re a die-hard Bacharach fan, you are immune to such critical concerns, and this album’s for you.
June 7th, 2007
Am in the office, and much to my delight, one of my officemates is blasting songs from The Stone Roses‘ first album. There was a time at the tail end of the 80s that it was my absolute favorite album—I still have a vague memory of the place where I bought it, some now-nonexistent record store on the second floor of Virra Mall. In cassette format, of course (I would get a CD copy almost ten years later, in Hong Kong, long after I had played the cassette to death). Utterly smitten by The Stone Roses, I got the odds-and-ends compilation Turns Into Stone afterwards, at the Musicland in the basement of Ali Mall. I remember why I had sought the cassette out: not because it was being played on the radio, not because a video was on MTV (hell, we didn’t have MTV here then), but because I had read an eloquent, gushy review in the UK music weekly magazine Melody Maker. I remember the reviewer used the adjective “godlike,†and recommended that you quit your job and spend the next week just listening to the record over and over. What higher praise could there be? (I had come to trust the Maker by then, after some years of reading issues in the British Council in New Manila—later on, the publication would point me towards the Cardigans, Foo Fighters, Garbage, and other worthwhile acts well before I had heard them, or heard about them, anywhere else.) That’s one of the great things about working at a music publication, or in this case, a music site: the idea that you can steer someone towards music that will more or less change his or her life. It bothers me, sometimes, that ratings can be misleading: reading Rolling Stone while growing up, I used to assume that any record that got less than four stars was not worthy of my attention, much less my paltry pocket money. But in one issue, there was something about the way a three-star review of The Blue Nile’s Hats was written—a line about warmth. Hold on, RS has an online reviews archive, I can get the exact quote now: “The band uses instruments masterfully to convey feelings: Synthesizers breathe warmth, a wan trumpet paints late-night downtown scenes, understated percussion registers like the beat of a heart.†Very, very nice. More than the comparisons to Bryan Ferry and Peter Gabriel, that gave me an idea of what to expect from the album. That line alone was enough to get me to pick up Hats, when I found it a couple of years later at CD Warehouse—a purchase I have never regretted. The Blue Nile remains one of my favorite bands, and Hats, I believe, is The Blue Nile at their best. I don’t mean to sound hypocritical, by the way: I know full well that we have a ratings system here at Pulse.ph too, a 1 to 10 scale. People like numerical values attached to their reviews, what can I say. Just look at it as a guide: a rating of 10 means that we absolutely believe it’s worthwhile, while a rating of 1 means we sincerely believe it’s shit. But there’s lots of room in between, lots of shades of gray, lots of “this is not my bag, but you may love it†and “I want to marry this album and have its babies, but it may be ugly in your eyes.†My officemate’s still blasting away. “I Am the Resurrection†now. What a glorious song. Singing softly along in my office cubicle. Feeling a little bit free with over an hour left til quitting time.
June 5th, 2007
So. Um. Wow. My boss just came up to me with the June issue of FHM Philippines in his hands. “Have you seen this?” he said, and before I could answer, the opening spread of a six-page feature on Beng Calma, frontwoman of electronic group Drip, was in front of my face. It will come as no surprise to anyone who has watched the band perform or ever seen her in person that she looks effing fantastic in this feature. Beng being majorly hot should not overshadow the fact that her band makes incredible music, of course. Go sign up on their mailing list, visit their MySpace, go to their Multiply, watch them anywhere they’re performing, etc etc. And if you do get your hands on a copy of the June FHM, the words accompanying the pictures are worth looking at too — the interview was done by Quark Henares. Funny, this is my second post in a row about a talented female musician in a state of undress in the pages of a magazine. Very different situations, in a way, but also in some ways very similiar. And that’s as much thought as I’m going to devote to the matter right now, because I seem to have temporarily lost the ability to string coherent sentences together.
June 5th, 2007
I’m not what you would call a professional music video extra—at most, I’m a “seasonal extra” who only pops up in these song-promoting flicks on very rare occasions, when schedule and mood and opportunity all come together. I’d much rather work behind-the-scenes than be in front of the camera (mainly because of the chilling fact that you instantly gain 10 pounds on cam, and thousands of people get the chance to see this phenomenon happen). However, having talented friends like video directors Paolo and Mara Bernaldo, who are nice enough to ask you to be an extra in one of the music videos that they’re shooting, and pleasant enough to feed you the entire day and at the same time make your life comfortable during the long ordeal—that’s enough reason for me to say, “What the heck.” (And if you don’t happen to have friends like Paolo and Mara but want to try out the life of an extra anyway, just hang out at your favorite bands’ online mailing lists—sooner or later, they’ll probably ask their loyal listers to show up and act as the “crowd” for a music video shoot. Chicosci, Kjwan, Sandwich, and many others have all issued such “casting calls” to their fans.) Last April 28 was a Saturday, and I usually wake up around 9 AM on Saturdays. But at 9 AM on that particular day, I was already at St. James, a college somewhere on Mindanao Avenue in Quezon City. That was where my friend Paolo Bernaldo—director, bassist for Moonstar 88, and a surfing fanatic as well—was set to direct yet another music video for MYMP, this time for their remake of Richard Marx’s “Only Reminds Me Of You.” (Paolo also directed the music videos for MYMP’s “Talaga Naman” and “Get Me”—the latter of which was shot in beautiful Zambales.) This time around, the setting was in a classroom, and Paolo’s surfer friends, some people from Ivory Records, and the “igans” (our term for friends) were the valiant extras. We all had to act as college students. (Wow, how flattering! I can still pass for a college student!) The most unbearable part of making a music video is the whole waiting process—from the production set-up (arranging the furniture and readying the props, and especially—setting up the lights), to the styling, to the main leads’ make-up, down to the countless breaks. In this particular shoot, sobrang planado ‘yung shots—each scene and angle was plotted out to keep the flow of the shoot brisk and smooth, which minimized delays and fumbling around. Still, some waiting time was inevitable, of course. Because of all the breaks, I still had enough time to think about what to do after the video shoot. It’s fun that my co-extras were also my friends. That easily pacified my nerves, because at least I wouldn’t have to feel terrified that I’d look stupid in front of strangers. Chances are, all of us felt the same way. I was assigned to sit beside MYMP’s guitarist Chin, who’s a really friendly guy. At one point, he told me that I looked very familiar, so I told him that that wasn’t a surprise since I already worked with MYMP a few times. The first was in a photo shoot for the first magazine that I worked with. I was also one of the project managers for their music video “Talaga Naman.” I don’t blame him for not instantly realizing that I’ve already been in and out of their lives once or twice, because if there was one thing that I’ve learned in this industry, it’s to never expect people to remember you. The concept for the video revolved around a lead girl—my pseudo classmate, played by Jin Joson—who was lovestruck with our pseudo professor, played by surf instructor Tim Goetsch. The ending? That’s for you to find out, but let’s just say that if you’re as imaginative as the makers of this video, you’d come up with so many conclusions—some pretty safe, and some even bordering on the morbid.(And if you don’t happen to have friends like Paolo and Mara but want to try out the life of an extra anyway, just hang out at your favorite bands’ online mailing lists—sooner or later, they’ll probably ask their loyal listers to show up and act as the “crowd” for a music video shoot. Chicosci, Kjwan, Sandwich, and many others have all issued such “casting calls” to their fans.) Last April 28 was a Saturday, and I usually wake up around 9 AM on Saturdays. But at 9 AM on that particular day, I was already at St. James, a college somewhere on Mindanao Avenue in Quezon City. That was where my friend Paolo Bernaldo—director, bassist for Moonstar 88, and a surfing fanatic as well—was set to direct yet another music video for MYMP, this time for their remake of Richard Marx’s “Only Reminds Me Of You.” (Paolo also directed the music videos for MYMP’s “Talaga Naman” and “Get Me”—the latter of which was shot in beautiful Zambales.) This time around, the setting was in a classroom, and Paolo’s surfer friends, some people from Ivory Records, and the “igans” (our term for friends) were the valiant extras. We all had to act as college students. (Wow, how flattering! I can still pass for a college student!) The most unbearable part of making a music video is the whole waiting process—from the production set-up (arranging the furniture and readying the props, and especially—setting up the lights), to the styling, to the main leads’ make-up, down to the countless breaks. In this particular shoot, sobrang planado ‘yung shots—each scene and angle was plotted out to keep the flow of the shoot brisk and smooth, which minimized delays and fumbling around. Still, some waiting time was inevitable, of course. Because of all the breaks, I still had enough time to think about what to do after the video shoot. It’s fun that my co-extras were also my friends. That easily pacified my nerves, because at least I wouldn’t have to feel terrified that I’d look stupid in front of strangers. Chances are, all of us felt the same way. I was assigned to sit beside MYMP’s guitarist Chin, who’s a really friendly guy. At one point, he told me that I looked very familiar, so I told him that that wasn’t a surprise since I already worked with MYMP a few times. The first was in a photo shoot for the first magazine that I worked with. I was also one of the project managers for their music video “Talaga Naman.” I don’t blame him for not instantly realizing that I’ve already been in and out of their lives once or twice, because if there was one thing that I’ve learned in this industry, it’s to never expect people to remember you. The concept for the video revolved around a lead girl—my pseudo classmate, played by Jin Joson—who was lovestruck with our pseudo professor, played by surf instructor Tim Goetsch. The ending? That’s for you to find out, but let’s just say that if you’re as imaginative as the makers of this video, you’d come up with so many conclusions—some pretty safe, and some even bordering on the morbid. The video took a long time to shoot. We started rolling around 10am and wrapped up at 7pm. Before going to the location, I was advised to bring three changes since the story was supposed to happen in three days—movie magic, my friends. Then, acting! Acting that day consisted of sitting on a designated chair, listening intently to our pseudo prof, “kulitan” with the seat mate, coming in and out of the room, looking shocked, happy and serious—easy, no talkies! Almost all the scenes were shot inside the classroom except for the group’s performance shots, which were done along a nearby walkway. There weren’t any problems while doing this shoot, aside from the obvious—it was so humid that even though the aircon was already on full blast, it was still too warm to move around, and everybody was melting. I’ve already seen the video being played on MYX. My initial reaction was to look for myself so I could laugh at myself and my five seconds of fame. The whole experience was nothing but fun, it was a different trip. It was also a good excuse to just be with my friends and help them out any way I can—pagkain lang ang katapat! Photos by Denise Mallabo and Gabie Osorio. Denise is the Production Coordinator of music magazine BURN. She has worked behind the scenes on several music videos. Her occasional career as an on-cam extra continues with the upcoming video for “So Blue” by Sino Sikat, and celebrated music video director Avid Liongoren’s upcoming feature film Saving Sally.
June 3rd, 2007
So Beth Ditto of The Gossip was naked on the front of the British weekly music mag NME last week. Personally I thought it was a great cover; very striking, and put together fairly well (though I have some minor issues with the typography). Plus it draws attention to The Gossip, a band whose music I really like — though now that I look at it, the band name itself doesn’t seem to be mentioned anywhere. But of course, the matter gets more complicated the closer you look. As it says on Idolator, “Ideally right-thinkin’ folks should be thrilled by this turn of events, given the increasingly pneumatic norm of sexiness being peddled by pop culture, a kind of uniform female beauty that would bring a tear to Henry Ford’s eye. Yet there’s a weird and sordid “two steps back” feeling about it all, as if Ditto stuffing her junk in society’s face has been instantaneously co-opted by a magazine getting off on the freakshow factor — copies to be sold, controversy to be manufactured, or hell, the creation of a potential new trend! Nu-fat? Fat-rock? They’ll think of something — of an outspoken “big girl” who happens to be the frontwoman of a band on the rise.” I suppose Beth Ditto herself is not unaware of the way the NME is exploiting her image — that’s the nature of the media game. She probably doesn’t care; maybe the possibility that posing this way on the cover of the NME will inspire or console other people — or at least clue in the curious who were previously unaware of her band — is reason enough. How does this cover make you feel?
June 1st, 2007
So last May 17, Pulse.ph writer Joelle and I were at a bar called Route 196, on Katipunan Avenue—she was there to interview Bagetsafonik about their soon-to-be-released debut album, I was there to hang out with friends and watch bands. It was the Quezon City installment of one of our favorite production nights, Ninja Kiss (NK32: Ninja Kyusi Vol. 2, the poster sez). And it was the most fun I’ve had at a gig in a long while. Ninja Kiss started out in SaGuijo Café and Bar in Makati in 2004. It’s a monthly production whose stated goal was “to give local musikeros a venue for their talents through regular gigs and thematic productions.†Like most band production nights, Ninja Kiss has mainstays: in their case, the new-wave flavored, dream-pop and hip-hop influenced Bagetsafonik, the swaggering straight-up female-fronted rock act Analog, and the immensely enjoyable, singalong dance-up-a-storm band The Ronnies. In 2007, as their site says, Ninja Kiss found a second home, this time in Quezon City (or QC): Route196, on Katipunan. “Just like our Saturday night gigs in SaGuijo and the occasional BigSkyMind prods, NK’s Ninja Kyusi Thursday Editions are not to be missed. Really, we’ll take the blame for your hangover the next day. Cheers!†On this particular Ninja Kyusi Thursday, four bands played: Pumping Pluto was up first, and their performance was a little raw but their pop-rock songs were hooky and radio-friendly enough. It must be said, though, that their main attraction—at least for the hot-blooded males in the audience—was their leggy, shorts-clad female lead singer. The women at our table were not impressed. Bagetsafonik followed, and sharpened our appetites for their upcoming album with a mix of familiar material and newer stuff, ending their set with “Song for the Sunlight,” still perhaps my favorite Bagetsasong (I love its mix of hip-hop and guitar-pop, and have often wondered if they’ll ever come up with another number that showcases Marcushiro’s rapping). The night really kicked into high gear with The Ronnies’ set—lead singer Ene Lagunzad always knows how to get a party started, and their renditions of 80s hits had the audience on its feet and dancing. “Oh my God, Erasure,†someone exclaimed, as The Ronnies launched into “Always.†(“Always I wanna be with you/ And make believe with you/ And live in harmony harmony oh love!â€) They did “Heart of Glass†too, with Ninja Kiss co-organizer and Analog guitarist (not to mention BURN Editor-in-Chief) Conch Concio helping out on vocals, and John Cougar Mellencamp’s “Hurts So Good,†this time with Waya Gallardo joining Ene on vocals and dance moves. “I never thought I would ever find myself dancing to this song,†a fellow child of the 80s told me, as the band did “Talking In Your Sleep†by The Romantics. And though the crowd clamored for more more more, Ene begged off, saying “Pagod na ako!†(She then proceeded to dance the rest of the night away, living it up even after the last band had played.) Luckily, Milagros Dancehall Collective was up next, and they kept the people hopping. Opening with a catchy original, they soon slid into the spirit of the 80s/early 90s vibe with a cover of Chaka Demus & Pliers’ “Tease Me.†Their whole set was a deft mix of excellent originals (like “Sunscreenâ€) and well-chosen covers (like Damian Marley’s “Welcome to Jamrockâ€), delivered with high spirits and their distinctive danceable reggae sound. It was vocalist Robbie Ranks’ birthday, as it turns out—just one of the many reasons that night felt like a celebration. “Is it always this fun?” asked a balikbayan friend of ours—who has spent the last seven years being a doctor in Chicago—with a big grin. Not always, Jep. You lucked out. Sometimes, a certain combination of bands, organizers, audience members, weather, ley lines, and planetary alignments just clicks, and those of us fortunate enough to be there experience an amount of fun above and beyond the usual. I have a feeling, though, that with this particular production night, that might be happening more often than not. Photos from the Ninja Kiss site. Ninja Kiss happens every first Saturday of the month at Saguijo, Makati; and every second Thursday at Route196, Katipunan Ext. QC.
Sign In
Sign up now!
Forgot Password?