Pulse.ph : MUSIC + CULTURE
September 24th, 2007
September 21st, 2007
BIG HOWEVER: SONGS FOR ANY WEATHER
New bands come and go, and it can be hard sometimes to distinguish between them, particularly if they’re all following certain templates: whether they’re showbands-in-the-making or pogi-rock lemmings, sometimes your ears just want to weep, “Enough. Enough.” Big However is refreshing for a number of reasons. First, of course, there’s the music itself: ranging from gently soothing to heart-pumpingly soaring, sometimes within the same song, it recalls 90s influences, and could very well put you in mind of a more stripped-down 10,000 Maniacs, with faint echoes of Juliana Hatfield and other identified-with-the-90s female rockers here and there. At first, I assumed the band name itself was meant to evoke 90s indifference—it was, after all, the era of “well, whatever, never mind”—but there’s a better reason for it, as I soon learned. Second: if you listen carefully, and especially if you were once upon a time an enthusiastic student of literature, something about the lyrics might strike you: the word-choices, the turns of phrase, the imagery, are all a little better than you might expect from your usual pop-rock fare. And you might notice that two of Big However’s songs so far are adaptations of pre-existing poetry: Beni Santos’ “Bago ang Wakas”—transformed into a song called “Katahimikan”; and Emmanuel Lacaba’s “Kundiman.” There are good reasons for these qualities as well. Three-fourths of Big However—Don Alanis on lead guitar, David Naguna on bass guitar, and Don Salvani on drums—are based in Naga. The final member, a Manileño named Mookie Katigbak, is both their vocalist and their not-so-secret weapon. Mookie is a familiar face on the local literary scene, widely acknowledged as one of the best young poets in the country. She attended the National Writers Workshop in Dumaguete in 2002, earned her MFA from the New School University in New York City, wrote the libretto for an original musical, won a Palanca Award in 2005, and recently took home this year’s grand prize for poetry at the Philippines Free Press Literary Awards. We talked to her about her band, their influences, and the distance, or lack thereof, between poetry and pop music. PULSE.PH: When, where, how and why did Big However first form? MOOKIE: The band formed accidentally in 2005 when I met Don Alanis in Naga City. I was visiting my sister who was based in Ateneo de Naga. Don was the husband of a friend of hers and a really good guitarist. We decided to jam. He lent me his guitar and the only song I knew how to play was Dylan’s "Most of the Time." He complimented me on my singing (not my guitar playing) and gave me songs he and his band had been working on on-and-off for the past ten years. The only thing they needed were lyrics. I was happy to comply. Where did the band’s name come from? The name comes from an old writing workshop strategy wherein a literary giant would begin a session by complimenting the good parts of a story—say, its plot and characters—and then go into hardy, often wincing critique by saying "The story was good, etc. … However…" That, in workshop lore, has come to be known as the Big However. [smiles] Name some of the band’s inspirations/influences, and what you think they have contributed to the sound of the band. For Don, it’s Led Zep, Soundgarden and the Beatles. I’m a Dylan and Joni Mitchell fan. All influences have allowed a folk-meets-rock sensibility. How does being a poet affect your lyric-writing for the band? Do you feel that poets have a harder or an easier time writing song lyrics? Why? I do it for levity. Poetry is serious stuff. When I write a song, rhythm and rhyme come out entirely unplanned. I think I get that from my training in poetry. Poets should have an easier time of it—if they let go and see what happens. Describe the first time you guys played before an audience composed mostly of strangers. Well, I think it was raining, the amp was busted, the audience was a Catholic high school crowd in Naga City. And I did not do the happy jig when the gig was over. [smiles] Tell us about the Big However’s song-adaptations of poems. Describe the process of choosing/adapting. Sometimes I would listen to the music and they would recall certain lines that I’d memorized from poems. So it would be a matter of the music choosing the lines. Tell us about the inspiration behind some of the band’s originals—particularly "Ballad for Any Weather" and "Autopilot." Autopilot was my "I refuse to think" song. It came at a time when I was overthinking everything—poetry and art and life. "Ballad" was a kind of homage to New York because I spent a couple of years there. So it’s about wanting something familiar in a strange place—like wanting a letter from the only person in the world who really knows you, or some such 22-year-old sentiment. What, for you, are the band’s most memorable moments/achievements thus far? Being a successful creative team just because it never occurred to us that we couldn’t make solid songs. Don was always a great musician but I had never written a song prior to our meeting. It didn’t occur to me to say no. Also, when we finally did a professional recording, Don did these great improvs for "Ballad" that gave us all goosebumps. And I think that happened because his melody complemented the lyrics and vice versa. The music became expressionistic in the best and least-pretentious sense of the word. Another great achievement is being fed well after a gig… for free! Soon after this interview was conducted, Big However opened for Bamboo at a gig in Naga. “It was wild!” Mookie recounts. ”First time I’d ever seen a crowd that massive, or a real Pinoy rock star. I’m trying to get the band over here so we can do Manila gigs soon.” That’s certainly something to look forward to. Photos provided by the band. Many thanks to Sarge Lacuesta.
September 20th, 2007
This double disc anniversary album was very fun to go through, I must say. Basically, if, like me, you grew up on Disney movies, you’re really going to enjoy this anthology of “50 songs celebrating 50 years of Walt Disney Records.” I’m guessing they tried to cover as big a scope as they could—they even included snippets of some Disney movies I’ve never heard of (such as a 1951 version of The Parent Trap, a 1967 version of Pirates of the Caribbean and a 1969 version of the Haunted Mansion), given that I wasn’t yet born in the 50s and 60s and they most probably hadn’t shown those movies in this country even then. Though, I do know track # 2, “Who’s Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf,” quite well. All of you who have seen this cartoon on TV, raise your hand and say Aye! Aye! The album starts and ends with the Mickey Mouse Club theme songs. Of course I remember the cartoon of the “Mickey Mouse March” with Donald Duck jumping in and yelling his name in between each “Mickey Mouse!” sung by the Mouseketeers. I think the inclusion here in this format is a good representation for the two most beloved Disney characters, as well as Donald’s segment on Mousercise, “Ducks Dance Too” on the second disc. As much as I want this to be an album of all my childhood memories, I have to acknowledge that they tried their best to include more favorites, more “hits.” Songs like “Someday My Prince Will Come” from Snow White, “When You Wish Upon A Star” from Pinocchio, “It’s A Small World,” “Cruela de Vil” from 101 Dalmatians, “The Wonderful Thing About Tiggers” from Winnie The Pooh, “Part of Your World” from The Little Mermaid, “Be Our Guest” from Beauty and the Beast, “A Whole New World” from Alladin, “Circle of Life” and “Hakuna Matata” from Lion King, “Colors of the Wind” from Pocahontas, “Strangers Like Me” from Tarzan, “Why Not?” from Lizzie Maguire and “Breaking Free” from High School Musical. There are more of course, but you know, 50 songs. They also included songs not just from the animated films but from the Broadway musicals as well, serving different versions of “Beauty and the Beast” and “They Live in You” from The Lion King, which featured more African-inspired percussion. There are times that the songs fade out, I’m guessing so that all fifty songs fit in the two discs. What happens sometimes is that the songs are bitin, ending too too soon, particularly on “A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes” from Cinderella and “A Spoonful of Sugar” from Mary Poppins. My absolute favorites on this album are “Baby Mine” from Dumbo, the absolutely gorgeous “Little April Showers” from Bambi, “The Siamese Cat Song” and “He’s A Tramp” from Lady and the Tramp, “Once Upon A Dream” from Sleeping Beauty, “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious” from Mary Poppins, the ultra-jazzy “I Wanna Be Like You” from the Jungle Book with the beloved scatting duel between Baloo and the monkey king Louie, “What’s This” from Tim Burton’s A Nightmare Before Christmas, “The Bells of Notre Dame” from The Hunchback of Notre Dame (though it’s not easily listening for when you want background music at work), “Colors of the Wind,” “Reflection” from Mulan, and the tearjerking “When She Loved Me” from Toy Story 2. I’m also glad that they included the film versions of the songs and not the for-marketing versions; as much as I like Christina Aguilera (well, in general), I think the Lea Salonga version of “Reflection” is more touching. Listening to the entire collection in one setting is also a kind of history lesson on soundtrack technology: you can hear the songs advance from amusing ditties to symphonic works of art. I have to say though that I don’t very much care for the songs at the end of the second disc, which are Hillary Duff’s “Why Not?” from the Lizzie Maguire movie and “Breaking Free” from High School Musical. Does this mean that Disney has become less magical now than it has been for the last 50 years? Or that I’m too old for Disney? Such serious considerations, yes.
September 13th, 2007
I can imagine what a very kind and easily amused Paula Abdul would say to this young singer-songwriter if she ever listened to his album. Maybe something to this effect: “I love it that you just did your thing and just had fun with it.” And surely, she would say it very sincerely. It’s something a very kind and easily amused critic would say when what she really means is: “That was an overall mediocre performance, but you seem to be satisfied with yourself, so I’m happy for you.” There are about two or three good enough songs on Life in Cartoon Motion, and that already includes the single “Love Today,” currently a cable channel’s theme song for the season. The song is undeniably catchy and interestingly flamboyant, much like its all-too-obvious influences: namely, Freddie Mercury, the Bee Gees and, a lot of people will say, the Scissor Sisters. A song with a danceable beat and playful vocals, “Love Today” surely has the makings of a par-teh! favorite. Two more songs follow the same vibe as “Love Today.” One of them—“Big Girl”—seems to employ an identical beat; in fact, the two songs almost sound the same. Only, with a refrain like “Big girls, you are beautiful,” the song sounds like it should be the theme song of the Dove Self-Esteem Fund or any similar women’s support program that Oprah Winfrey or Tyra Banks would vehemently support. “Relax (Take It Easy)” for me is a much better song, if not the best on the album. It is danceable but toned down and puts you in a sort of mindless state, which is what danceable pop should at least achieve. I would have liked Life in Cartoon Motion better if it was an all-out disco pop album. That would have justified MIKA’s overused, oftentimes overstretched falsetto. Sadly, apart from the three songs mentioned, the rest of the CD sounds like some outdated, juvenile musical. Certain songs are overly dramatic (“Any Other World” and “Happy Ending”), complete with life excerpts of some woman, predictable orchestral elements and hallelujah parts by a girl’s choir (he likes children as backup singers, this guy); and others are just plain infantile (“Lollipop” and “Billy Brown”). “Lollipop” is a cutesy-but-ironic jump-rope ditty that gets old too fast and is filler in an album full of fillers, while “Billy Brown” is just a gay nursery rhyme that discerning gay men wouldn’t enjoy. Musically, these songs don’t do anything but bat their false eyelashes at the listener. The rest of the songs, meanwhile, oscillate from weak to excruciating. “Grace Kelly,” apparently a very big hit in the UK and the album’s first song, almost turned me off from the whole thing—mostly, because MIKA’s “Freddie Mercury” voice reaches such a high point of being irritating. I really think he is not at all a bad singer but he has to quit impressing himself with his own falsetto. He could have redeemed himself with more melodious (though very Robbie Williams) songs like “My Interpretation” and “Stuck In the Middle,” but then the songs themselves are quite bland in composition, however palatable they may otherwise seem to juvenile pop listeners. Life in Cartoon Motion is somewhere between trendy novelty and potential breakthrough pop, and whatever real substance it may lack, can always be made up for by good marketing. However, while a pop album may not really require substance and depth, I guess I still expect more from an artist who takes himself so seriously as to spell his name in all-caps.
September 12th, 2007
RHYTHM IS GONNA GET YOU: BRIGADA AND THE SOUL OF SAMBA
Chances are, you’ve probably heard of Brigada already, or better yet, you’ve actually heard them live and in all their glory. Brigada is the Philippines’ first samba bateria, a percussion ensemble that’s most likely going to get under your skin, as well as get you up on your feet. Inky de Dios is their founder and leader—he also started up the Hairy Dawgs, a precursor of Brigada, but first gained deserved acknowledgement from fellow musicians as part of Pinoy reggae pioneers Indio I. Brigada plans to release their debut album by the end of the year. PULSE.PH: What other bands have you played for, leading up to the current ones? Which would you say were important in your musical development? INKY DE DIOS: I’ve played, sessioned, jammed, or recorded with: Indio I, Brownman Revival, Piranha, Brownbeat Allstars and POT over the past 15 years or so. Currently I’m playing for: Brigada (musical director, percussion), The Out of Body Special (keys), Ten (vocals, acoustic guitar), Marshmellow (piano). I would say that Indio I and POT were the most important in my musical development because they were the first truly professional bands I played for. These were hardworking, gigging bands, and playing for them was basically my on the job training, confirmation that being a musician is a legitimate profession. Of course, being a musician is more than playing a lot of gigs so I’d say my current bands are the biggest influence in my musical development right now. Did being a music major lead you towards the diverse spectrum of music you are currently playing? Or did it have no effect whatsoever? If the latter, were you disappointed? Other thoughts? I think it’s a bit of everything. Being a music major exposes—even forces—you to be open to all sorts of music. On the plus side, you gain an innate knowledge of the structure, form and inner workings of music, sort of like blueprints of a building or the encoding language of computers. On the downside, your appreciation of music changes too. Sometimes you can’t turn off the training and you can’t even appreciate a catchy pop song anymore. I’m trying to find the balance between, say, a second inversion on the borrowed II leading to the V, back to the root and that riff just kicks ass. Where did you discover the samba bateria? What inspired you to form your own bateria group here? It was when I studied in England [Liverpool] in 1998 that I discovered samba when played by a bateria [percussion ensemble]. I was just on my way to a club one night and I heard an amazing sound about a block away. It was a bateria of around 20 people and the memory still gets my blood racing. I joined the Liverpool Samba School the following week and learned how to play samba. When I got back, I missed playing samba so much I looked for people who understood. Unfortunately, the Philppines has never progressed beyond bossa nova, which is ironic because samba is the root of bossa nova. Was the forming of this group harder or easier than you imagined it would be? It was hard in the beginning, but I’m still amazed at how easy it was to gain momentum. I don’t confess to be a bonafide percussionist, but I believe playing samba goes beyond playing percussion. If you tap into that spirit and let it loose, you’ll find your groove, and playing, dancing and singing samba will be easy. The great thing is that with all my years of studying music, I figured out how to teach ANYONE how to play samba with enough time and patience. I can hit them with terms, theories and notes for hours but if they don’t listen and feel the music and the spirit behind it, well, it isn’t samba. Who were the first people who came on board? What kinds of percs were there initially? I was fortunate to meet Toni Bernardo who was a percussionist and a sambista [a person who palys samba] like me way back in 2000. I had collected a few bateria instruments over the years and so had she. We were both excited in forming a bateria, the first in the Philippines. She called up a few friends and we started jamming in UP, behind Vinzon’s Hall where the jeepneys parked. The group came to be known as Hairy Dawgs. Initially we had a couple of surdos [brazilian bass drums], some tamborims [small high pitched hand drums] and other basic instruments of a bateria. How many members are there now? What is the vibe like currently? How does a regular practice session go? Well, around 2005, Toni and I went our separate ways and I formed Brigada, which is the group I run now. There are 10 core members with about 10 trainees and whoever comes in to practice on Wednesdays. The vibe is totally informal, with the core members teaching everyone how to play the instruments, and then I try to get them to play samba. I try to identify what instrument the person is comfortable with we go from there. We learn around two pieces every week. It’s always a challenge teaching especially if the person has no prior percussion experience, but I never get tired of hearing anyone play samba. When a bateria starts grooving for the first time it still gives me goosebumps. How do you write your original songs? Most of Brigada’a pieces are either standard Brazilian bateria rhythms, or variations on the pieces I learned from the Liverpool Samba School, or whatever sounds good if played by a bateria. I usually write new pieces with the core group. New pieces come from anywhere, so I try to remember any flashes of inspiration that come to me before we practice. Then it’s either a long process of finding what works or a quick jam with what works already. Sometimes someone else will come with an idea and we work with that. So we try to keep it an organic process. It might take longer sometimes, but by the end everybody has had a say and we all feel good about playing the finished piece. Are your live gigs these days more or less set in stone, or is there still a lot of room for improvisation? It depends on the gig. If it’s a corporate event, then we have a set of songs with set arrangements. For other gigs, there’s room to play around, have friends jam—like Nyko Maca, Eileen Sision or Sitti—and have even more fun. Brigada has been playing so long that if I decide to toss in a break or a turnaround, they can easily pick it up with a few whistle blows or even a look. It keeps things fresh and interesting. Tell me a little about Ten. I’ve been a songwriter since I was 13 years old. And although playing instruments is something I love to do, writing songs is the one thing I want to be good at. Ten is where I can take all the things I’ve learned about music and put it into song. What other projects are keeping you busy right now? I work at Circus Studios in Loyola Heights as a sound engineer. I also teach samba at Miriam High School, and I do session work as a musician and/or a composer. Pix courtesy of Jorel Corpus (who is a lot thinner now than he is in these photos). Thanks Jor!
September 7th, 2007
Not too long ago I found myself in an unfamiliar bar in Quezon City, watching a bunch of bands I had never heard of before. Normally, this would be a recipe for a quick spiral from teeth-grinding annoyance to suicidal depression, but I lucked out, and found myself liking the show, for the most part. There was one band in particular that I enjoyed. They played originals that sounded like soundtracks to courtships and car chase scenes, to acid trips and alien abductions. Gleeful guitar-pop with enough rough edges not to be wimpy, and enough sweetness not to be mere noise. They had a real sense of fun, and seemed unafraid to laugh at themselves (or, for that matter, at other people). Soon after, I learned their names: They are Rocky Teodoro on vocals and guitar, Allen Samson on bass and vocals, and Iñigo Mortel on drums. They are The Haneps. According to their MySpace bio, The Haneps are “influenced by British music icons The Beatles, The Kinks, Cream, The Who, Radiohead, Blur, Coldplay, Tears for Fears, and Morrissey (among others).” It goes on to say that ”the band’s sound is jokingly referred to as “brip rock” – a happy union of Britpop and Pinoy Rock.” They released a four-song EP last December (entitled, amusingly enough, “Han-EP!”), and are gearing up to unleash a full-length album soon. They also give fun interviews, as you will see if you do not suddenly develop a serious reading disability between this paragraph and the next. Why call yourselves “The Haneps”? ROCKY: The short and corny answer: All of us are hanep. The long and in-depth answer: there is none. ALLEN: I have my own explanation why we’re called The Haneps. Hanep was derived from the pinoy insect Hanip. That’s it. INIGO: Allen is an idiot. But since he’s brilliant, he’s ok with me. I like the name because it doesn’t really say anything about us or our music, maybe except that we like what we do very much. Plus, it’s catchy without being obscene, and psychedelic without being too long How did you guys first get into music? What made each of you want to be in a band? ROCKY: Discovering the music of the Beatles in high school made me want to write my own songs and form a band. To me, music is the ultimate form of self-expression, because you can communicate abstract and complicated mysteries in just 5 minutes or less. ALLEN: I started playing band music in our church during masses and seminars. I liked the freedom and creativity that goes with playing good music. INIGO: I got into music because practically everyone around me at least listened to music. I wanted to make music because not everyone did it, eh as a teenager I wanted to be different, so that’s one motivation. Judging from previous interviews, unlike some bands, you guys aren’t childhood friends or former classmates or anything. (Allen met Rocky on PinoyExchange and Inigo met Allen for the first time when they jammed as a band.) To what do you attribute your gelling as a band, especially since you guys have claimed that you all have very different influences? How has the interpersonal/musical dynamic of the three of you evolved? ROCKY: As far as "gelling" is concerned, I use it everyday on my hair, to keep it spiky. Oh, you mean "gelling" as a band? Sorry. Well, for some reason, the three of us get along pretty good together; I think it’s basically because, deep inside, we’re all wacky nuts. Regarding our different musical influences, I’ve got this to say—there are only two types of music: good music and forgettable music. We gel because we make good music. ALLEN: I believe we bring into The Haneps the lessons we’ve learned and unlearned from past musical experiences. I see our musical differences as one of the factors to our longevity. It’s fun trying to come to a compromise during jammings and recordings. INIGO: We also have patience and we always keep our egos in check. And we do it all at the same time. And we talk a lot, keep communication going, and we think about what we do and what we’ve done. In that sense, we’re very sensible people, really. “Chunami” and “Love Drive” have been getting radio airplay. Tell us a bit more about those two songs—how they came together, why they were chosen as singles, how representative they are of “The Haneps sound.” ALLEN: The songs are upbeat and fun, perfect for introductions. INIGO: Those two songs actually begin and end our sets. ROCKY: When I write a song, sometimes I have a specific concept in mind. "Love Drive" is one of those songs—I wanted to write a song specifically for listening to while you drive. I took the concepts of driving songs like "LA Woman" and "Highway Star" and made them my own. "Chunami" is one of those songs that was written quickly. I was in Puerto Galera, and at that time, the waves were furious—they could really drag you under. Out of nowhere a guitar riff entered my mind, and I tied it up with the idea of the giant waves—the tsunamis. In both cases, I brought these songs to Inigo and Allen, and they filled in the blanks and helped arrange the songs. They were chosen because they represent The Haneps well—they hit hard, they hit fast, and they leave you wanting more. How do you come up with the subject matter for your songs? (Some of them seem to have very specific references, like “Chocolate Kiss.”) Your MySpace profile says that the band “relies on lyrical and musical hooks to delight listeners.” Explain what you mean by “lyrical hooks.” ROCKY: A lyrical hook is a word phrase or sentence that captures your audience’s attention, pretty much like what a musical hook does. "Chocolate Kiss" is a good example of a lyrical hook; so is "Love Drive." I’m a writer by profession and devour books of all kinds, so I know when a certain word combination has potential or not. Here are several other examples, which I plan on making into songs soon: "Monsoon Mami," "Happy Ninja," and "Magnetic Yes." INIGO: Rocky has this thing he calls "painting with words". The words don’t necessarily mean anything, but since they contribute to some sonic atmosphere, they have some merit of being there. If they convey meaning to you, then better! When I watched you guys at Purple Haze, the songs I liked most were not on the EP. Tell us more about those songs, and the other tracks that will be on the upcoming full-length album. ROCKY: Thanks for watching us. I guess you’re referring to “Chunami” and “Cagayan.” Cagayan is a "love" song I wrote long ago, transformed into its current psychedelic state by The Haneps. INIGO: It’s about love lost in some distant land. It’s our cheesiest song, so far. You’ll like it. ROCKY: Everyone who listens to us has a different favorite song, so we decided to put them all in the upcoming album. ALLEN: We plan to have songs in every Pinoy radio station, he he. And speaking of the upcoming album, how’s it coming along? How is the experience of the recording process so far? How is your songwriting process developing? Is a definite release date in sight? ROCKY: We’ve recorded 7 songs so far, and 3 to 5 more are on our to-do lists. Recording is great, it’s always nice to see one of your songs develop, much like watching a son or daughter grow up. Not that I would know much about having a son or daughter, mind you. INIGO: Songs are going to tape slowly, as we can only work on it once or twice a week—we take our day jobs seriously. No definite release for the album though. Right now, we’re in the middle of talks with some labels, so the originally-planned independent release will be set aside for the meantime. ROCKY: We’re talking with some people now, but definitely the album will be coming out soon, whether through indie or major label channels. Definitely this year. Cross your fingers and hope for the best for us! ALLEN: It’s still a continuing learning experience for us. Hopefully the album comes out the way we envisioned it to be or not to be. It’s always interesting when a band strays from the usual four-person setup. You guys have settled on three as your magic number. How did you decide on that, and did you ever consider taking on more members? ALLEN: The line-up is not yet final. We plan to add 11 more members. Just kidding. ROCKY: At the beginning, we really wanted to be a four-piece band, but we couldn’t find a keyboardist. We started playing gigs and got used to being a three-person outfit, so we decided to stick with the current line-up. Besides, people say that our sound is already "complete." INIGO: I thought it was cool to be 3 because it wasn’t 4, as in the usual. So we’re unusual. So you’re right about "straying". But I guess it also makes it easier to be in tune and in sync, because you only have 2 other members to coordinate with. I think because of this, without any one of us being very good at our instruments, we’ve managed to sound "tight" to some people. Let’s talk about the local music scene right now. What’s good or bad about it? Where do you think it’s heading and where do you think it should be headed? ALLEN: I see local music as maturing with every new artist introduced. I’d like to compare it to J-pop, where all musical styles are appreciated. ROCKY: Good: Kids are starting to pick up guitars and form bands again. Bad: Still too many revivals and bandwagoning, playing what is currently "uso". Musicians should concentrate more on making original sounds that stray from the usual formulas. INIGO: What’s bad is that everyone sounds the same, production-wise. Like nobody wants to make a different kind of sound anymore, as in a different sonic quality. Take 2 different records from 2 different genres and you’d think, well, they sound the same, as if they were in the same recording session with the exact same people, using the exact same sound engineers. Areglo lang ang pinagkaiba. What’s good is that because of that, it’s so easy to sound different nowadays. You just don’t do what you always hear. With all things saturated, the only way to go is to get out, to think of change. Change always feel weird, but with all things weird, they can tickle you a bit. Could each of you comment on the other two people in the band? What do they bring, in terms of musical abilities and personal qualities? What makes them integral to The Haneps? ALLEN: Rocky is a lyrical and musical genius. Inigo is an instrumental genius. Bukod sa drums, ang lupit din mag-gitara!! ROCKY: Inigo is a wacky nut. He usually helps shape the songs into their current "Hanep" form with his great drum fills and 60s-style drumming. Allen is also a wacky nut. He usually helps arrange the songs, and fills the "holes" of a one-guitar band with his excellent bass lines. Actually both of them do. Also does back-up vocals, making it easier for me to sing lead vocals. INIGO: Rocky has been the main songwriter so far, in as much as he has a deep archive of songs he’d written from way back. Allen has some amazing arrangement ideas, and they come spontaneously, sometimes on the rehearsal before the gig, that if you hear our songs live and think that they’re different from the record, it’s probably Allen’s fault. These two people have a strong sense of song structure that I’m still learning from. Photos provided by the band. Visit The Haneps’ MySpace page and sign up on their mailing list!
September 6th, 2007
I’M THE BAND WHO LOVES YOU: WILCO IN L.A.
It’s a warm night in Los Angeles. Temperatures soared into the hundreds earlier in the day; at 8 PM, the sun’s still out, but it’s making its way behind the mountains, casting long shadows on the eager (and mostly bearded) Wilco fans in the Greek Theater. Thirty minutes later the five thousand-seat venue is packed, night has finally descended, and the men of Wilco walk onto the stage. Before anything else, if you, my dear reader, are unaware of who Wilco are, the first thing you must know is that they are the most awesome band on the planet. Obviously I am a very big fan. But a quick Google will tell you anything you need to know about them. Album and concert reviews are pretty much unanimous (four stars, thumbs-up, album of the year, etc.). They’ve been described as America’s Radiohead, not because of any similiarities with sound, but because of their ability to constantly experiment and the sheer quality of their musicianship. They’ve also won a couple of Grammys too (in case you needed The Establishment’s seal of approval). Wilco opens with “You Are My Face,” a slow burner from their new album Sky Blue Sky. The album’s been out since May, and each song off it is greeted with a warm familiarity. They go on to play seven more songs from SBS throughout the evening, with the beautiful and funny “Hate It Here” being the best of the bunch. However, the riotous applause is saved for the songs from their near-perfect 2002 release, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. “I Am Trying to Break Your Heart” succeeds in breaking everyone’s heart and “I’m the Man Who Loves You” also receives great yelps from the crowd, especially when Jeff Tweedy dedicates it to his wife Sue. Since the inclusion of guitar master Nels Cline and two keyboard players (Mikael Jorgensen and Pat Sansone) three years ago, all the older songs have received amazing boosts. In particular “Pot Kettle Black” and “Jesus Etc.”, both already great songs, have improved greatly from their recorded versions. But “Via Chicago” is the biggest surprise. The song begins with a lone spotlight on Jeff and his acoustic guitar, singing “I dreamed about killing you again last night, and it felt alright to me.” The audience settles in, thinking it’s going to be a lighter-in-the-air time, but then Glenn Kotche starts wigging out on the drums and the lights go crazy and everyone goes nuts. Then in a split second, Glenn stops, the lights go back to just Jeff, and the audience scratches its collective head wondering if we really saw that. I sit with rapt attention for two hours even though I am seated near the back of the theater, the people in front of me are making out the whole time, and I can smell illegal substances in the air (just say no, people, just say no!). But as far as I’m concerned, it’s just Wilco and me. Obviously when you see your favorite band live for the first time it’s going to be awesome, regardless of seating arrangements and the distractions of the crowd. There is nothing like seeing a band play live, no matter how good the album versions are. I actually felt John Stirratt’s bass thumping under my ass and the lighting design really helped the songs reach their peak. Wilco was at their best, and despite a bout with adult chicken pox a week earlier, Nels Cline killed. He strangled that guitar and made it his bitch. Jeff did his funny banter while the rest of the band prepared for the next song. He good-naturedly berated a guy for waving a lighter around and waited politely as latecomers found their seats. Bootlegs, live DVD concerts and the conveniece of YouTube aside, there is no substitute for the real thing. Photos taken from the band’s MySpace. Visit Wilco’s official site too.
September 6th, 2007
Bagong Liwanag is not explicitly cast in the epistolary format, but it sure addresses its listeners (i.e., Rivermaya die-hards) a great deal. It is also a three-months- in-the-making feat for the “Banda ng Bayan,” who launched the achingly allusive and, at times, painfully literal single “Sayang” in the wake of You-Know-Who’s departure. More than being a five-song EP, however, Bagong Liwanag is an event—a welcome party for the band that never really left in the first place (“Bakit naman ako aalis? ‘Pinamana ko na sa ‘yo ang aking puso” Japs Sergio croons). That’s the main message here, I think: the emphasis on the keeping of the status quo (well, also the resolution of the month-long cliffhanger that You-Know-Who’s sudden exit entailed). After every wager is the revelation of the dealt hand. Past every educated (or uneducated) guess is the answer sheet, shoved across the test-taker’s desk like unwelcome news. After all, don’t people always want to be right? Don’t they want to be vindicated in their accuracy? That a band bereft of its central figure be forced to call it a day? Well, whoever those “people” are, I bet they’re whistling made-up tunes, eyes on the ceiling, in silent denial, with their wrongness resounding like a quiz-show buzzer. The EP opens with the buoyant and self-referential “Banda ng Bayan,” another Sergio number. The ‘Maya bassist—also one of the moving forces behind Daydream Cycle—takes on the huge challenge of being the doorman at the new house, the first voice who greets you, the Big Unfamiliar Other. “Nagsisimula pa lang; teka muna, pakinggan niyo kami kung ayos lang,” the bassist offers in the song, only thinly veiling the matter at hand, as if to say, “Please don’t kill us for trying.” But, of course, being no mere newbies, the members of the band triumph over the rabid expectations. No bitterness here, just sheer momentum, and nostalgia is left at a minimum (melodical allusions to “Panahon na Naman,” “Ulan,” and “Elesi”—as well as a reprise of the main guitar-line from “Kisapmata”—adorn the opening track’s outro). Mark Escueta’s songs, meanwhile, are interestingly schizophrenic. On the one hand, there’s “Sumigaw,” an all-around party song, whose optimism outshines, I think, even “Umaaraw, Umuulan” (“Harapin ang hamon ng buong mundo. Handa ka na ba? Asahan mo na hanggang sa huli, nandito lang kami”). The said track also nailed it as the new station-I.D. theme of ABS-CBN’s UHF channel Studio 23. On the other hand, there’s “Olats,” which would have been scathing for its irony, if not for its droll approach to the concept of calamity or “tough luck” (“‘Ayan tuloy, nadisgrasya; steady ka na kanina. Kawawa naman tayo!”). Escueta’s tongue-in-cheek, “you gotta laugh about it” approach to the band’s initially unlaughable crisis is admirable and amusing. Guitarist Mike Elgar’s “Nawawala,” meanwhile, is a great middle track, a mood piece of sorts that conjures up a campfire feel, or a folk-séance (“Habang ‘andito tayo sa mundo, maraming bagay ang nagbabago”). In any case, Elgar—who acted as a sort of secondary writer on earlier albums Tuloy ang Ligaya and Between the Stars and the Waves—diverts from the relative straightforwardness of his bandmates’ respective writing styles. What seems apparent (though not at all detrimental) is the uncertainty in the voices. The five songs in Bagong Liwanag are sung by their respective writers, all of them relegated to the wings in the past, when it came to vocal duties. Okay, wait. You know how it is when some guy at work goes on leave for an emergency, then you have to replace him, and you’re thinking you know you can do it, but at the same you have to admit to yourself that the terrain is unfamiliar (say, you’re a copy-editor and the guy on leave is a layout artist)? The irresponsible among us will piss and moan; the bold and brave will passionately try—‘Maya obviously falls under the latter, and succeeds fairly well. A friend of mine told me that, while she agrees with me on the note of “uncertainty,” she believes that the band (or the band on this EP) is “reassuring,” which is something I also want to echo: just as journalism revels in precision and poetry in romantic limbo, so does great music in its beautifully flawed humanity. Rivermaya, for this installment, is both certain and uncertain—certain about the material, uncertain about the subject matter, which is to say, how does one recover? I mean, really? How does one rise above the wreckage? Thankfully, Elgar, Escueta, and Sergio think and act fast, and here is their collective response—an epistolary mini-record that’s meant to speak and not speak, to commemorate but move forward, and, most importantly, to sing to their heart’s content. (By the way, yes, Bagong Liwanag is a five-song EP, but it has eleven tracks. Let me explain. Apart from the five “proper” songs, there is a recited audio track of band acknowledgements; after that, five instrumental (a.k.a. “minus one”) versions of the songs for people to pretend-‘Maya to. The lyric sheets are also laid out with chords a la “songhits,” to satisfy ‘Maya guitarist fans. Paolo Lim’s vibrant yet warm sleeve design—a collage of backstage passes, pins, buttons, and tickets—doesn’t hurt, either.) Taking a break from the Britpop strains of Between the Stars… and going back to their successful brand of OPM-rock vernacular (reminiscent of, say, Rivermaya, their self-titled debut, and Tuloy ang Ligaya, their other debut), the band is slowly easing back to its old clarity. Though obtuse artfulness is something this band is also good at (Trip and Atomic Bomb somehow come to mind), this time, they show that they really have got something to say, beyond mere pretty soundscapes. While auditions for the singer post (and other instrumental posts) have already been wrapped up—a weekly TV special will reportedly start airing September 16—Bagong Liwanag effectively poses the question, “Do they even need it?”
September 4th, 2007
There’s a fantastic, lengthy article on Rick Rubin over at the New York Times. Rubin has been a guiding force in American popular music for decades now, being one of the founders of Def Jam and having produced a staggering — and staggeringly diverse — roster of influential musical talent, from the Beastie Boys to Slayer to Johnny Cash to System of a Down. Now he’s co-head of Columbia Records and just may be the man who will save the music industry. Currently, he is producing records for the hard rock band Metallica, the nerd power-pop band Weezer and the legendary Neil Diamond. Rubin works slowly — it can take him years to finish an album. “A lot of that is because of the songs,” Rubin explained. “I try to get the artist to feel like they are writing songs for the ages rather than songs for an album. As they write, they come over and play the songs for me. For some reason, most people will write 10 songs and think, That’s enough for a record, I’m done. When they play the songs for me, invariably the last two songs they’ve written are the best. I’ll then say, ‘You have two songs, go back and write eight more.’” It’s a great interview, which not only takes us behind the scenes of Rubin’s work process, but also describes his ideas on how to deal with the massive recent changes in the way people discover and buy music. Lots to think about. And, if nothing else, the article makes me look forward to what Rubin will do with The Gossip — one of my favorite new-ish bands — and plain-faced opera singer Paul Potts. Rubin paused. “That’s the magic of the business,” he said. “It’s all doom and gloom, but then you go to a Gossip show or hear Neil in the studio and you remember that too many people make and love music for it to ever die. It will never be over. The music will outlast us all.”
September 4th, 2007
This week, the Revolver production night celebrates its third anniversary, and they’re doing it in a big way—with excellent acts like the Chillitees, The Dawn, Nyko Maca + Playground, Pedicab, Sandwich, Sino Sikat?, Taken By Cars, Ciudad, Corporate Lo-Fi, Itchyworms, Queso, Salindiwa, Urbandub, and more, playing on four different nights and three different venues, spread out through September. Great!, you say. But what’s a production night and what is Revolver? “A production night is basically a night where you get to showcase bands in a venue, which most of the time is a bar,†explains Cris Ramos, Jr., the main driving force behind Revolver. “Basically, a lot of bands do this so that they can have a regular gig and at the same time book other bands that they would like to help.†Cris is a familiar face on the local music scene; he used to write a music column for the Manila Times, and was the co-manager of Narda. He has also contributed to publications such as BURN and PULP magazine, and describes himself as an “ex-major label hack.†Revolver started simply enough: named after Cris’ music column, which in turn took its title from his favorite Beatles album, it started out as a one-off gig that Cris organized “just to find out how it feels like,†as he was “inspired by two of my fave prods—Admit One and Play4Serve. And before I knew it, it had turned into a regular prod that I do with some of my friends.†Revolver used to take place once a month at SaGuijo Café and Bar in Makati City, but has since become even more frequent—it’s closing in on its 50th gig by now, I believe—and has been held at different places such as Route 196 and Bar 42. “The concepts behind it, I guess, would be a). To have some great bands play and b). To have fun. Since I don’t have a band, I just have a roster of semi-mainstays who play approximately once every three months.†The lineup is quite fluid, but in the past, these mainstays have included the Chillitees, the Itchyworms, the now sadly defunct Narda, Pedicab and Salindiwa. “As far as the lineups and show concepts go, the main idea is ANYTHING GOES.†For example, “We bring a videoke machine to SaGuijo and have some bands cover videoke classics once a year.†Cris has some words of advice for people who might want to start their own production nights. “Getting financial sponsorships would be great, but it’s a long shot… You have to be fair. One must realize that it’s hard work too, but at the same time, if you ain’t getting any measure of fun out of it, it’s not worth doing at all. Never stoop down and require bands to bring X amount of people or sell tickets. Make sure everything’s ironed out with all the people involved—the bands playing, the venue’s management so on and so forth. And please have food and beer for the bands playing, especially if it’s just a gate share gig, make sure they enjoy as much as the people watching.†“And yeah,†he adds, “Do not take your audience for granted. While making hakot your friends is one effective measure, it will only get you as far as a few more gigs if you don’t give them other reasons to go to your gigs. Have some pride—put some quality acts in your line-up!†That’s a principle Cris takes to heart, and which he follows almost to excess—some Revo prod nights have been so packed with acts that it’s almost overwhelming. “And one last thing: this one’s the most important, this is something that has been handed to me from the people behind the productions that I admire: THE PARTY IS THE SECRET.†Asked to recount some high points in the history of Revolver, Cris says, “We are proud to have featured great bands such as Up dharma Down, Hale, Drip, Urbandub, Sugarfree, Cambio, Twisted Halo, Sandwich, Imago, Color it Red, Dong Abay, among others. We are also proud to have brought some bands to SaGuijo for the first time, such as Betrayed, Greyhoundz—back when SaGuijo was apprehensive about having “metal-oriented bands,” Pedicab, Hilera—the best audition band Revolver ever had! Johnny Alegre Affinity, El Mercurio, the Youth, Wake Up Your Seatmate, Love Core and Switch.†“We are also proud of having been able to collaborate with Admit One and Play4Serve to pay tribute to Wolfmann during Admit One’s anniversary show [in 2005]. We’re proud of even being compared to and lumped with these productions; it’s definitely an honor… We are also proud to have thought of doing this long before doing a production became ‘uso’ and numerous new prods sprouted out of nowhere. We are proud that without us asking, Jugs Jugueta said ‘Cris, i-book mo ang Itchyworms sa Revolver basta walang conflict sa sked namin…’ We are proud of organizing Chillitees’ and Narda’s own album launches. And we are proud that our gigs with 20 people are every bit as fun as our gigs with 200 or more, for all the people concerned.†When asked what’s in store for Cris Ramos and Revolver in the near future, Cris answers, “Well, I need a day job to sustain all these things, so I’m looking for one right now. And I hope to book more great bands in the future.†Check out Cris Ramos’ Multiply site for Revolver updates and other fun stuff.
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