monday music trip: angelina [P.S.Y.]

Angelina by the French pop group P.S.Y (not to be confused with the Korean internet sensation Psy).  From the year 1989.

The song is entirely in French, but it became quite popular here sometime '91 / '92.  Even if most of us didn't really know what it was about, it was easy to assume it was a love song of sorts about a girl.  It didn't really matter; besides, the melody sounds so pleasantly upbeat anyway.

back when the e-heads' "cutterpillow" went gold in a day

Cutterpillow is the Eraserheads' third album (after UltraElectroMagneticPop and CiRcuS) and remains the Philippines' best-selling album by a band or group.  By a clever marketing ploy, it made gold-status in one day and eventually made Platinum several times over.

monday music trip all i want TOAD THE WET SPROCKET

A song that always successfully conjures for me memories of high school dances, silly early-teen crushes, and walking around with a Walkman.  Listening to it now still gives me the warm fuzzies. From a band with a curious name, year 1992.

monday music trip hold on [WILSON PHILLIPS]

One of the best songs from the year 1990. Hold On is one of Wilson Phillips' first singles, released with a first-rate music video that inspired girls (and gays) to attempt to sing in three-part harmony. That year, I was in seventh grade, and printed vests over button-downs were fab (see Chynna Phillips in the video). I'd never heard anything like Wilson Phillips before then, and was instantly enthralled.

Coming to think of it, I don't think I've heard anyone like them ever.

monday music fix manic monday THE BANGLES

It's just another manic Monday (oh,woh)
Wish it were Sunday (oh, woh)

monday music fix: the name game

Sometime in the sixties, a singer named Shirley Ellis came out with this children's rhyme also known as "The Banana Song".



In the '80s it was repopularized by Laura Branigan as a pop song called The Name Game. It became a dance anthem of sorts; it probably became a hit because the toddlers who rocked to Shirley Ellis in the 60's were the yuppies who populated discos and bistros at that time.

It was 1987 ; I was age 9 and in fourth grade. It seemed like every grade school class that year danced The Name Game at their special events. The choreography was always the same - it was easy to memorize, since that song-and-dance number was an ubiquitous fixture at every variety show.

I alas, was one of those who danced to The Name Game at the Young Artist Club Christmas Party. Oh, how hellish that was. I and a few classmates of mine aped the choreography we saw danced by Maricel Soriano and Alma Moreno. Seemed simple enough. I had another uber-epal classmate of mine named Karla, who was not part of the dance nor the club, but thought it was her messianic mission to critique us. Well, critique me, most especially, since I had the poorest mind-body coordination and she already hated me anyway since she was good at volleyball and I often ruined the game for the rest of them.

That was when I decided that I probably was not a good dancer. You suck, Karla.

On the day of the party, 0ur group wore poodle skirts and sneakers as our costume. I, more concerned about looking cute than being practical, wore a thick woolen sweater - a big, bright blue one with black-and-white stripes on the cuffs and shoulder pads; I loved it because it was very MTV. It was incidentally a personal sauna bath while I so awkwardly danced the bonana-fana-fos.

In hindsight though, I realize I didn't succeed at looking cute either; I wore my fuzzy blue sweater with a floral pink balloon skirt. OMG. No wonder Karla couldn't stand me.

My sneakers were pale pink ankle-cut ones with pink laces and little star-shaped studs, by the way. They used to be real cool; I loved showing them off to the other girls because those sneakers looked so "teen", not "ten".

After our number, we received a weak but kind applause from the other girls. Our moderator Mrs Soliongco asked us if we were the same group that danced for the kids at the orphanage. That frazzled us a bit because we weren't quite sure what she referred to. Just then this other girl raised her hand and said, "Miss, that was us!", and I remembered what she was talking about - a few weeks back our batch had a field trip, and one of the stops was the White Cross orphanage where we made friends with the toddlers. A handful girls from another section gifted the kids with a dance number - with the same musics and the same steps that we just presented at said Christmas party.

Darn, I still remember those dance steps. I think most kids from the '80s would remember those silly steps - recalling them with either happy childhood memories or nightmarish reminiscence like the ones I have.

monday music fix:eternal flameTHE BANGLES

August 1990. I was twelve years old and I auditioned for a children's theater group. I decided to join because I wanted to put myself on the track of becoming a theater actress - well, that and because I wanted a legitimate means of interacting with boys from the other school.

I had already passed the first audition, which meant I was already in the theater group. Those of us who made it were asked to memorize a 2-and-a-half page script and return three days later for the second audition. The second leg was where we tried out for roles - we showcased our talents one by one, while the directors and advisers privately evaluated us and assigned us roles that they thought we best fit.

Memorizing two-and-a-half pages of monologue was a cinch at age twelve (wow, I miss those days when my mind was like a sponge). I was quite confident that I could deliver my lines clearly and emotively; no problem.

What I worried most about was the singing part of the auditions.

Like most Filipinos, I had loved singing since I was a wee kid. The thing is I wasn't quite ... uh, let's just say I didn't receive enough praise for my singing (hee hee hee). Still I didn't think I was that bad - of course I could carry a tune, I just didn't sound very impressive - and tried my luck at children's theater. For all I knew, I might have been more talented than I thougt I was, right?

Having the script down pat, the next thing to do was to select a song. In those days, the whole nation was still drunk on Lea Salonga's success at London, so most girls at the screening thought it good to choose a solo from Miss Saigon. Others who were a bit more adventurous picked something out from Les Miserables.

I was rather in a pinch because, aside from the fact I wasn't confident about my vocals, I didn't know that many songs that were appropriate for a theater club audition. I desperately rifled through my mind and through every songhits I could find for something I could perform satisfactorily, and three days didn't seem enough time to prepare.

With a heavy heart, I finally decided on singing the Bangles hit, Eternal Flame. It was an easy song, a safe one, with words that were very easy to remember. There was hardly a chance of flubbing it, so off to the singing auditions I went with Eternal Flame.




But I still wrecked it! My nerves got the best of me and I looked like an idiot up there. Apparently those who auditioned before me were shorter than I was, because the mic was positioned too low. I didn't know how to adjust it so I decided to just leave it alone and avoid the risk of damaging the equipment. I said my name, school, grade and section, took a deep breath and commenced.

Close your eyes, I crooned, hunching over the midget mic stand with my knees slightly bent.
Give me your hand, Not knowing what to do with my hands, I folded them across my chest, awkwardly clutching my plastic purse.
Was I supposed to sing the darlin' part? I just skipped it altogether.
Do you feel my heart beating? Damn, my heart was an enormous taiko drum.
Do you understand? I just wanted it to be done as soon as possible.
Do you feel the same? Uh-oh. Flat.
Am I only dreeeeeeeeam-ing? I wasn't quite sure how to emote to a song I couldn't deliver properly; I knew it would just look like a pathetic attempt to look confident. Thus my face got frozen in a dead-pan expression.
Is this burnin' Saying burnen' instead of burning felt so pretentious.
An eternal flame ...
I believe, it was meant to be ... And right there I was asked to stop with a vague but firm Thank You from one of the judges advisers Miss Marasigan.

I didn't even make it to the bridge (Say my name, sun shines through the rain...) where I thought my voice sounded best. That wasn't good.

Since I wasn't able to exhibit my vocal prowess (and since there wasn't much to speak of anyway), I didn't land a role I wanted but was put in the generic supporting cast.
And Eternal Flame, which used to be one of my favorite pop songs, became one of my most hated. It had become a memento of frustration for me.

The good news was I didn't get cut. I enjoyed a whole schoolyear of children's theater, plus a matinee and gala performance at the Cultural Center of the Philippines. I felt like it was one of my greatest childhood achievements.

Though both my skill and my confidence improved through the years, I never did pursue my dream of becoming a theater actress. I've made my peace with Eternal Flame though.

monday music fix: 'til they take my heart away CLAIR MARLO

I didn't even know who Clair Marlo was; I still don't know who she is actually. I made a Wiki search (not that I care) and voila, Wiki doesn't have much on her either. All I know is she sang 'Til They Take My Heart Away.

It's a bolero kind of love song with that kilig factor that worked on hopeless romantics. It had a cheesiness I could never appreciate - maybe because I didn't have a boyfriend then; I was just about turning fifteen, not at all interested in mush (at least not publicly). Or maybe because I was one of the rare, pretentious few who insisted on posing as a hardcore rocker. Tsss.

All my female friends seemed to love that darn song though. One even adopted it as her and boyfriend's official theme song - and I am sure there are a few more who did too (But needless to say, they no longer love each other, and no one even took their hearts away :p ). In my high school's fair that year, it was practically the anthem, courtesy of numerous requests via the Dedication Booth. I bet the upperclassmen heard it play at their prom or Grad Ball too.

As much as I disliked it, its lyrics have been seared in my memory. The thing was overplayed by local radio stations in 1992, almost as if to brainwash the naive teenaged listeners to carry out a secret government ploy. Among the chief conspirators was DWLS FM.

And as much as I still dislike it, if there was ever a movie of my life, it would likely be in the soundtrack of my high school chapter (maybe in the background of a mallratting scene or a dialogue at McDonald's) because it's so identifiable with the mid-'90s.

monday music: take on me A-HA / REEL BIG FISH / A1

Take On Me was a big 1985 number one single by Norwegian pop-rock / New Wave band a-ha. It had then-avant-garde ultra-catchy synthpop instrumentation that can't so easily be erased from the minds of '80s youth.

I don't think anybody understood what the phrase "take on me" meant, but combined with the other lyrics, it became apparent to everyone that it's supposed to be romantic.

The music video that came with it was equally avant-garde. It's a romance-fantasy story with animation (rotoscoping) - it's a quick chick-flick actually. It had several wins in the 1986 MTV Awards: Best New Artist, Best Concept Video, Best Concept Video, Best Direction, Best Special Effects and Viewer's Choice. It was also nominated for Best Group Video and Video of the Year. It was that hot.

It's still one of my favorite music videos of all time. The pencil-drawings were done so well, and I had wondered if ever could learn to draw like that. I remember being so impressed by the whole video - the idea of a girl walking into a comic book and interacting with pencil sketches was so cool. Besides, the guy's so cute. Every time it came on Video Hit Parade, I'd totally watch it, no matter how many times I've seen it; when it came to the end, I'd always wish there was a part 2 to the story.

Take On Me
a-ha

We're talking away
I don't know what I'm to say but I say it anyway
Today's not my day to find you Shying away
I'll be coming for your love, OK

Take On Me, Take me on,
I'll be gone In a day or two

So needless to say
I'm odds and ends So I'll be Stumbling away
Slowly learning that life is OK
Say after me, It's still better to be safe than sorry

Take On Me, Take me on,
I'll be gone In a day or two

Oh the things that you say
Is this life or Just to play my Worries away
You're all the things I've got to remember
You're shying away
I'll be coming for you anyway

Take On Me, Take me on,
I'll be gone In a day or two

Sometime in the late '90s, the Ska band Reel Big Fish came out with a cover. Covers don't often do the originals justice, but this take of Take On Me takes gold. I used to turn the volume up whenever it played on NU 107.

The video isn't that impressive, but it's still fun to watch nonetheless, it's like a party in there. They didn't have any typically cute guys (like the one in the a-ha video), but I do find something attractive about a guy who can sing + plays instrument + is into punk ska + is slightly geeky.



I can't believe that's been more than a decade ago. ^_^

Maybe it's due to the fact that I love (still do) '90s third-wave ska and punk-ska, but I find the Reel Big Fish version waaaaay better than the lamer-than-lame A1 copy cover that came out in 2000. The A1 version did better on the mainstream though, and not that many people knew about the Reel Big Fish one. Tsss. I blame the boy band mania associated with so much cheese and corn in that era. Still, props to them for the sci-fi-ish music video that tried too hard to be cool by adding elements of VR and The Matrix, and for bringing back the love (albeit massacring) for an '80s favorite.

back when we were the world

I just caught the premier telecast of We Are The World 25, a remake of the 1985 chart-topper. This 25th anniversary version and features artists such as Kanye West, Pink, Jennifer Hudson, Barbra Streissand, Celine Dion and a host of others. It was remade for Haiti and the victims of the recent earthquake.

It brings back memories of course. We Are the World came out 1985. It was the brainchild of Lionel Richie and Michael Jackson and produced by USA for Africa.



It was one of the most heavily played songs on the radio. Anyone you ran into could sing it.

There was a stretch of time that its music video was aired on television daily. The video is very simple - just the stars singing in a studio. But I liked watching it because I had fun trying to identify the artists. Lionel Richie - Kenny Rogers - Michael Jackson - Diana Ross - Bruce Springsteen - Cyndi Lauper - Stevie Wonder.

It was also heavily covered - at least here. It was done from noontime shows to bars. My mom used to sneak us into bars when we were kids and I got to watch showband versions of We Are the World.

I suppose that the concept of gathering together big celebrities in a big production for a cause was novel then that it was emulated. Soon after there was Live Aid's Feed the World, and even a cast of local artists doing the national anthem in a similar style.

At the 25th year since it's release, the devastating earthquake came around and Lionel Richie came up with the idea of recreating We Are The World. I think the original is still better though; this new one for some reason sounds a bit less polished. Nice try that hiphop and reggae elements were put in, but I found it too sloppy.

I think it was sweet that Michael Jackson was spliced in from the original footage. But it was totally creepy.

back when rivermaya was a sellout band

In a segment of last night's news, a reporter interviewed celebrities for their opinions on a COMELEC proposal to basically ban entertainers from endorsing candidates for the upcoming elections. In a brief snippette were a few members of the rock band Rivermaya - endorsers of presidentiable Gibo Teodoro and performers of his campaign jingle. I caught a glimpse of guitarist Mike Elgar and couldn't help noticing that he still looks a lot like he used to in high school.

I also couldn't help notice that the band called Rivermaya is an immensely different reincarnation of the band that was born sometime in the early nineties. Aside from the member overhaul, they kinda even have an all-new sound and overall personality.

I never was a fan of Rivermaya. I always found their songs ... er... too ... mainstream. The lyrics are clever (but not brilliant), their music kinda lacks edge and personality, like they were the kind of band that was afraid to experiment or go too extreme because it's all about producing something entirely "sellable". I don't know for sure of course; it's all just my opinion. "Rivermaya has always been a sellout kind of band," some stranger told me once in retrospect. And yeah, one could say they were good artists in a mainstream, pop-rock, sellout kind of way.

It was 1994 when Rivermaya's first single Ulan, was first (over)played. I was a sixteen-year-old high school junior then.

Ulan was an almost-instant crowd favorite; it gained the band A-list status and was the first of many hits. Bamboo was on vocals, Perf De Castro on guitars, Mark Escueta on drums, Rico Blanco and Nathan Azarcon somewhere in there. Those guys were all under twenty years old when they became famous.

One interesting trivial tidbit that people must have forgotten is that the young Bamboo used to have long hair (Whenever I saw him on television, I would always remark that that look just didn't work for him; his hair was always was too flat and greasy-looking. And with that big mouth and those puffy eyes he was plain UGLY. He's a lot less upsetting now that he's bald).

At that time, Michael Elgar was a senior at ADMU High, already acknowledged by his peers as a guitar demigod and band-competition winner. (If I remember correctly, he had a band called Elgy's Blueberry Juice then ... and he had another called Black Roses in his elementary days. I never knew him personally, but ever since grade school, he was the kind of guy that girls knew about. And oh - he had braces back then). Not yet the rock star we know him to be today, he was then just one among the sea of fans of Bamboo et al.

Rivermaya remained one of the country's most popular bands through the '90s. Their singles were played massively to the point of easy recall. They weren't only on the radio and music videos; their songs were used as commercial jingles, movie soundtracks and cover band performances.

As much as I disliked their music, you gotta admit they made for good soundtrack. In a project for Electronic Media class back in college, my groupmates and I included Hinahanap-hanap Kita in a "romantic comedy" short we produced (And a bit more trivia: among my groupmates were Paolo of Moonstar '88 [then called Orphan Lily] and his missus Mara, Monsterbot's Karl and direk Avid. Our lead actor for that video was then-CFA-tambay now famous as Kamikazee's Jay).

At the turn of the century, Bamboo disappeared from the band and Rico Blanco took over as frontman (by then, Perf De Castro had already long dropped out and formed a flopped band called Triaxis; I vaguely remember it for cheesy, jologish, mid-'90s rock ballads in Filipino).

With Rico Blanco at the helm, the band seemed to have developed a more distinct personality and maybe a bit more sex appeal. Some people would have argued that Bamboo's departure made the band tank, but the way I see it, it just made them a bit less mainstream - which isn't exactly bad if you think about it. I.m.h.o., the Rico Blanco songs were more brilliant than the Bamboo ones. Bamboo may have been the more spirited performer, but Rico was the artist. Besides, it's more fun to watch a sexier, more attractive frontman. Bamboo just couldn't rock the shirtless look.

Meanwhile, Bamboo formed his own band named after himself, which I think was equally if not more successful.

I think Mike Elgar became the new lead guitarist around the time that Rico Blanco moved up front. Like i said, I never was a fan of the band and I don't follow them, so I didn't really notice. I just spotted him on television one day - Uy, si Mike Elgar yung bagong gitarista?! It was easy to recognize him because like I said, he still looks pretty much the same as he did in high school.

I remember catching the closing act for MTV Pilipinas on the telly (I don't quite remember what year; it was the one in which Pepe Smith was souped up as usual and was "improvising" onstage) - a few of the country's top rock icons came together for a smashing performance. Mike Elgar performed a guitar duet side-by-side with Francis Reyes of The Dawn. The Francis Reyes. I was just amused at seeing an 80's guitar titan with a "younger" star. Reyes was the inspiration and aspiration of guitarists of our generation from when we were kids; I'm quite sure Elgar used to dream about meeting him, and now happened to play on the same platform as him. Kinda reminds me of that Mark Wahlberg rockstar movie whatzitcalled - of how a former fan could play in the band he admired in his youth. Elgy is now an icon of sorts himself, prolly the new Francis Reyes of this generation.

Also amusing is how Rivermaya seemed to have done the reverse of what most bands from the '90s did. While most crossed over from the alternative scene and sold out into the mainstream, Rivermaya went from mainstream into a sort of alternative. Not entirely of course - they're clearly still holding up a certain sellable quality. And speaking of sellable, I also notice they're now more of a "pogi band" - stylish duds and tons of hair product, far from the unkempt look and slouchy clothes the original group donned in the mid-'90s.

back when parokya was young

Another entry in Taglish.

Kung tama ang pagkakaalala ko, March 1994 noon; patapos na ang schoolyear. Ang graduating batch ng Ateneo de Manila High School ay nagra-wrap up na ng kanilang apat na taon sa high school -- ilang linggo ng grad practice, clearance at iba't ibang non-academic activities na pampalubag-loob. Isang hapon, nagtipon-tipon ang mga studyante sa High School Covered Courts* para sa isang event. Sa kalagitnaan ng programa, may pumanik sa stage na banda: ilang mga magkakalase mula sa graduating batch.

*Oo, may S talaga yun.

Sinimulan nilang tugtugin ang Creep* ng Radiohead. Nakilala ng mga mag-aaral ang tugtog, at nag-cheer sila. Pero nang kumakanta na ang vocalist, iba yata ang lyrics - ha, tagalog? Kumanta siya tungkol sa craving niya para sa siopao na special. Ang kanta nilang ito ay hindi Creep, kundi Trip ang pamagat.

* Ang Creep ay isang kantang noise-rock na sikat na sikat na sikat na sikat to the point of rocker anthem noong mga araw na 'yon

Trip nga talaga - laugh trip. Ang galing ng wording, at saka ang kulit - in a really good way.

Nagpakilala nga pala ang banda: "Kami ang ... Parokya Ni Edgar!"

Hindi pa actually Parokya Ni Edgar ang pangalan nila at that time, kundi Comic Relief - kasi nga, pang-comic relief ang mga novelty rock songs nila. Ang phrase na "Parokya Ni Edgar" ay isang inside joke ng section nila. Isa itong impromptu smart-aleck answer ng classmate nila noong tinatalakay sa Filipino class ang El Filibusterismo ni Jose Rizal.

"Saan (blah blah blah) si Crisostomo Ibarra?," tanong ni Teacher.
Ang sagot ng nagulantang na estudyante, "Sa ... parokya ni Edgar!"* **

* Ang ibig sabihin ng parokya ay "parish" o "parish church". Kung sino si Edgar, hindi ko alam.
** Ang estudyanteng iyon ay ang kaklase nilang nagngangalang Bambi Cuna (info provided by Chito).

Obviously, benta. So nung ini-introduce nila ang mga sarili sa programang 'yon sa Ateneo High, bigla na lang nasabi ang phrase / inside joke na ang mga ka-section lang nila ang makaka-get. At mula noon, dumikit na ang bago nilang pangalan.

"Our next song is a song by a blonde nun,"* sabi nila . At saka tinugtog nila ang What's Up ng 4 Non-Blondes.

* Siyempre mga ingglisero pa, Atenista pa sila nun eh.

Tinugtog din nila ang Nanakaw Ang Wallet Ko, na version nila ng Knocking On Heaven's Door ng Guns n' Roses / Bob Dylan. Patok na patok sila sa mga ka-eskwela nila dahil sa kakwelahan.

Pagkagraduate, bumenta din sila sa ibang tao. Ang iba sa kanila nag-college sa Ateneo, ang iba nag-UP*, at tinuloy ng ilan ang pagba-banda. Eventually nawala sa Parokya ang dalawang original members nito from Ateneo high, pero nag-merge naman sila sa mga dating member ng bandang Looney Tunes. Na-form ang Parokya na kilala natin ngayon:

Chito Miranda on lead vocals
Darius Semana on lead guitar
Gab Chee Kee on rhythm
Buwi Meneses on bass
Dindin Moreno on drums
Vinci Montaner ... ano nga ba siya?

* UP: University of the Philippines. Naging kaklase ko si Chito sa College of Fine Arts. Si Vinci naging kaklase ko sa GE 'nung freshman (sa isang subject kung saan marami kaming binagsak ng walanhiyang prof); naalala ko lang sa kanya ay pogi siya noon at napapag-initan ng prof na mukhang manyak. Madalas kong nakikita ang Parokya boys sa CFA, lalo na kung may tugtog sila sa UP, which is madalas mangyari. Minsang naka-tambay ko sila sa tindahan ni Manang Babes.

Kahit wala pa silang album noon, sikat na sikat sila sa mga nagpapaka-rocker na suki ng Club Dredd* at Mayrics**. Alam ng mga fans ang mga kanta tulad ng Cooking ng Ina Mo, Chikinini (spoof ng Banal na Aso / Santong Kabayo ng Yano) at Pangarap Ko sa Buhay.

* Oo nga pala - nasa Km 19 Edsa pa ang Dredd noon. At ni wala pang Eastwood.
** Sazi's na ngayon ang Mayrics.

1995, sumikat ang kanta nilang Buloy - una sa NU 107 at humawa na sa ibang mga station - at noon sila nakilala sa radyo ng mga taong hindi alam kung ano ang Km 19. Ang Buloy ay tungkol sa totoong tao na na-kainuman nila sa Gulod*. Hindi yata nila alam ang totoong pangalan niya, basta ang tawag lang nila sa kaniya ay "Buloy". Hindi daw talaga siya nag-suicide nung una, pero pinatay nila siya dun sa kanta. Later on naging totohanan na ang suicide niya.

* Gulod : tambayan / inuman place sa loob ng UP Diliman Campus; nawala na ito nung 1999

Iilan lang sila na novelty rock acts* - marami kasi noon ang grunge / post-grunge, alternative at metal - kaya medyo naiiba sila sa karaniwang style noon. Pero ang pinakaka kakaiba sa Parokya ay ang husay nilang mag-entertain gamit ang kakulitan (at minsan, kabastusan). Ang maganda pa sa kanila, hindi sila nagpapa-cute tulad ng ibang mga banda na may pa image-image pa. Medyo jologs ang dating nila kung minsan, pero hindi baduy kasi intelihente yung humor nila, hindi slapstick. Nakakatawa kapag nagtanggal ng T-shirt si Chito - patpatin pa ang katawan niya noon, yun nga ang nakakatawa eh. Kung minsan may pekeng tattoo pa na naka-pentel pen lang (wala pa silang mga tunay na tatoo noon).

* Novelty Rock : Rock ang music, pero kakulitan ang lyrics. Ang iba pang novelty rock acts noon ay Grin Department, Tungaw at Ciudad. Pero angat talaga ang Paroyka. Wala pang Kamikazee noon.

Kaya nga nanalo sila sa NU Rock Awards ng Best Live Act noong 1996.

Sila din ang Best New Artist nung taong yon. Official na "recording artist" na sila dahil lumabas na ang unang album nila na Khangkhungkhernitz. Nandun siyempre sa album na 'yon ang mga kantang nabanggit, pwera ang Chikinini, dahil hindi pumayag ang Yano. *

* Medyo mayabang pa ang Yano noon kasi sikat pa sila na pinoy alternative band. Nung 2003, binigyan na rin ng permiso ang Parokya i-record ang Chikinini at isama sa album na Bigotilyo. Nalaos na kasi ang Yano, at sikat na sikat ang Parokya. Mas big-time pa ang Parokya kesa sa kung ano man ang inabot ng Yano.

Lagpas isang dekada nang sikat ang Parokya - nagkaroon na sila ng sampung album, at parang parami pa rin nang parami ang fans nila - at hindi pa sila naluluma. Maganda kasi sa kanila, bukod sa magaling sila tumugtog at magsulat ng lyrics, hindi sila natatali sa genre, at hindi sila takot mag-experiment. Kaya nga nagugustuhan sila ng maraming tao - whether bata o matanda, jologs or soyalin, simpleng tao o inggliserong Atenista level. Patunay dito ang lagpas 10 na panalo at lagpas 20 na nomination mula sa NU Rock Awards, MTV, Awit Awards, MYX at iba pa.

back when bon jovi was actually cool

Here and now. That guy on the other side of the street is screeching out Bed of Roses again in his jukebox voice with the trying-hard accent. It seems like our neighbors' Videoke gig is back in business, too bad for the rest of us in the neighborhood. Those Videoke people have a nasty habit of putting the volume full-blast, and their patrons always select the difficult songs with those high-pitch belt-outs because of how they exhibit one's singing prowess (or lack of it) - sheer torture to listeners when sung by people who neither have the range nor the talent.

As I try to shut out the noise caused by I juana leeeeey you down on a beeeeeyd of roseeeeeeeyz, I consider the fact that Bon Jovi is one of those unfortunate Videoke hall-of-famers - i.e., a common choice of Pinoy Videoke singers everywhere (along with Regine Velasquez, Heart, Aegis and other belters). I have myself participated at a Videoke party in which we poked fun at the hideousness of Bon Jovi songs. Those Bon Jovi cheesy power ballads that no one would be caught dead listening to; big-haired glam rock lounge songs that not even 80's retro bands would dare cover, more like something you'd imagine a poledancer swinging to.

And then I think about how I used to like Bon Jovi - at a time before their songs were considered beerhouse fare and were given jologs status.

Yes kiddos, Bon Jovi used to be cool. And I think in some circles in some parts of the world, they still are.

Early '90s Bon Jovi.

Early '80s Bon Jovi.
Yes, THIS actually used to be cool.

Photo from here. Read his funny take on "Livin' On a Prayer"

Bon Jovi started out as a glam rock band from the early eighties - one of those crimped-hair-and-ripped-spandex acts with the powerful vocals. I started paying attention to them the time they released Blaze of Glory for the movie Young Guns II. I must have been ten. Both the song and the music video got a lot of air time in those days. I paid even more attention after local pop diva Zsa Zsa Padilla confessed she had a huge crush on their frontman, seeing him singing with his guitar on a desert mountain, topless and all sexy for the Blaze video.

The band's name of course is from the surname of vocalist John Bongiovi.

By the early nineties, Bon Jovi was already a worldwide phenomenon. Pretty much everybody knew who they were. They, along with the likes of Guns n Roses, were usually covered by amateur groups at rock shows and battles of the bands because of the showy vocals. On a night of, let's say, ten bands, at least two of them would do a Bon Jovi song. The most popular choices were Livin' On A Prayer and I'd Be There (For You).

I'd Be There is actually still the most popular choice for Videoke-ers today, haha :D

I remember watching a few impressive covers of I'd Be There at band shows back when I was in high school. One was by these twentysomething rockers called Rust; the vocalist sang Bon Jovi but moved like Axl Rose. The other was this all-girl rock band formed by my schoolmates (and that's actually why they were impressive, especially on a night of male acts) called Blue Pearl.

I don't think my admiration was ever stoked to fangirl level, but I must admit, I was a Bon Jovi fan. I knew all their albums, knew the band members' names, knew the lyrics to their most popular songs. I owned a poster too - a gift from a friend. And since it was almost obligatory for a high school girl to swoon over some rock star, I decided to crush on frontman Jon.

Photo from here.

October 13, 1993. It was a Wednesday night. Two friends and I lined up outside the Rizal Baseball Stadium to watch Bon Jovi live. The band was on their Keep the Faith tour; both nights in Manila were sold-out.

And we, three high school girls, bought tickets for the first night. We had sweet-talked our parents (and submitted ourselves to needlessly paranoid harangues) to allow us to go out and stay up late on a weekday night for a rock concert. I remember standing in line feeling all excited, like I was about to be part of history or something.

I even remember what we were wearing - I had on a button-down long-sleeved shirt that had thin white fabric with blue paisley print, rolled-up dark-blue shorts and 6-hole DM knockoffs. I also wore a clear blue plastic pendant. I brought a similar pendant, exactly the same except it was violet, and gave it to my friend V that night because it was in her favorite color. V wore a see-through black button-down long-sleeved shirt with colorful sea animal print over purple pants.

Our P200-tickets sat us in the bleachers - that price would have been two days' worth of allowance, all we could afford at our student budget. People around us sat patiently and behaved decently - no, it was not a jologs crowd at all - though you could feel excitement mounting as the minutes drew closer to 8pm. I chatted with my pals as I went people-watching. Somewhere to our 7 was a guy a red plaid shirt around his waist, Seattle-style. With him was his petite girlfriend who wore a white shirt, black shorts, a cap and her long, straight hair in a ponytail. In front of us were two guys, one of them with pageboy hair and a black Faith No More shirt, also wearing a plaid shirt around his waist (black and white this time). A few meters away was a guy with a backpack who partied alone.

As the music started, the formerly weary-looking crowd on the bleachers sprung to its feet. The stage was far away but no one seemed to care; we could watch the lights and smoke anyway. We couldn't even make out Jon's face (I could see his bare chest gleaming though). We bleacher people sang along to You Give Love A Bad Name. Plaid boy pumped his fist, petite girl waved her cap in the air; backpack guy seemed to have felt warm so he peeled off his shirt and slung it around and around over his head. And we three high school girls - we just had a good time. Even if the performers were too far to fully appreciate, the fans nearby were entertaining to watch. Whattarush for energetic teenagers like us; it was so much fun.

Until it rained thirty minutes into the concert and the whole event had to be cut short.

We sat around for an hour or so in case things dried up and the band decided to walk back onstage, but the organizers announced that the electronics were soaked and that posed a fire hazard. My friends and I decided to stay put on the bleachers and chat to pass the time. We were oblivious to the so-called riot that was happening beneath; we only learned about it later on the news.

Bummed as we were, we left the place thinking it was all still memorable. We supposed we could crash the concert the following night, demand that organizers give us what we paid for. That was two days' worth of allowance after all.

We weren't the only ones who entertained that thought though: a throng of fans who came the first evening showed up on the second night, squeezing their way between ticketholders, metal barricades and security people. There was another semi-riot (i.e., not a full-blown one) and security conceded, eventually allowing everyone in.

Man, the place was packed. Bon Jovi launched into old and new, Jon shaking his newly-shortened tresses. Girls on the grounds began climbing onto their boyfriends' shoulders halfway through Bad Medicine. One seemingly high girl took off her top and threw it to frontman Jon in crazy fangirl fashion and spent the rest of the night covering herself with nothing but her arms (Bon Jovi isn't a mosh pit kind of band, so it was relatively safe for girls to be that near to the stage, though scantily clad). A slow song played and lights dimmed into a concert cliche, a signal for the crowd to raise their lighters. And lookie: No rain!

It was a blast.

... At least, from what I heard.

Sadly I wasn't there the second night to demand my money's worth. Some of my friends were fortunate to be though. Considering that my parents loved putting on the strict hat, and that things always got ugly whenever I asked permission to go anywhere, and that we had a fight over letting me out Wednesday, I didn't even bother asking for Thursday. Besides, I had a report due Friday on a book I hadn't even finished reading so I had to spend Thursday night cramming.

I eventually forgave myself - it actually came easy since glam rock and its artists soon became passe. Power ballads were out, incoherent verses were in. Belter vocals out, unintelligible growling, in; screechy guitar solos out, choppy 3-chord messes in. Artists like Bon Jovi, GnR, Poison and Black Crows were almost immediately considered corny jukebox music . By then I'd turned my attention to the fast-rising grunge and post-grunge music; pretty soon, I was swooning over the deep-voiced, red-meat Eddie Vedder instead of John Bongiovi. I didn't even notice how or when my Bon Jovi phase ended; I didn't even bother when they came back for their These Days concert April of 1995.

For a time i was ashamed to admit I ever liked glam rock. But nowadays songs by those glam-metal bands are already revered as rock classics - except when they're being sung Videoke - so I'm not now too embarrassed to admit that there was a time I indeed thought Bon Jovi was cool.

back when we were next in line

Next In Line (1992)
AFTERIMAGE

Afterimage launched their first album in 1992 with their carrier single Next In Line. I thought that the song was utter crap as a musical composition ever since the first time I heard it. But because I'm probably not a reliable sample of my generation's mainstream culture, this pop-rock hit was apparently well-loved by hordes - it topped some charts as i recall.

The composer is a family friend of sorts (I wasn't completely honest about how i felt about his work of course). At that time that Next In Line was popular, I happened to have a chat with him (the face-to-face kind, not the online kind) about his song. He was in his early twenties then. He told me that his intent for writing it was to express the frustrations of young adulthood - the feeling of finally finishing your education and then getting on into what adults call "the real world", then having to live as an adult yourself whether or not (oftentimes not) you were ready or willing. Like you had to shed off your youthful idealism, put yourself in a box and toil for what you hoped would bring you closer to your dreams. He felt that frustration, he said, that his parents never prepared him (and probably never could have) for life, and before he knew it he was out there, next in line.

What has life to offer me
When i grow old?
What's there to look forward to beyond the biting cold?
'Coz they say it's difficult
Yes, stereotypical
You gotta be conventional,
You can't be so radical

So i sing this song to all of my age
For these are the questions we've got to face
For in this cycle that we call life
We are the ones who are next in line.

We are next in line

And we gotta work, we gotta feel,
let's open our eyes and do whatever it takes
And we gotta work, we gotta feel,
let's open our eyes

So i sing this song to all of my age
For these are the questions we've got to face
For in this cycle that we call life
We are the ones who are next in line.

Of course back then, I was fourteen, and though I understood what he said, I couldn't quite yet relate with the sentiments he was talking about.

The composer's reflections actually kinda redeem my initial thoughts of the song. Now that I think about it - especially after I've been thrust into being "next in line" myself - not only do the lyrics make sense, but they sort of relate. But i still think it's crap as a musical composition.

I suppose that we who used to be in our early teens when that song first came out (we who, after our angsty hormone-adjustment years, and after our shock into "the real world", are now in our early thirties) have had to face the questions. And if we searched for them, we got our answers.