17. Oren Lavie – Her Morning Elegance

I discovered this gem downloading podcasts from NPR.org. Astig talaga ang Public Radio and public broadcasts, period.

Without a real radio in the apartment and no MTV (we don’t subscribe to neither cable nor satellite) I only get to hear new acts by listening to free podcasts. A couple of weeks ago, KCRW’s Morning Becomes Eclectic featured children’s book author/film director/singer-songwriter Oren Lavie.

Yes, his sound is not new. He even has some nasty reviews posted in his website. He sounds like Nick Drake with some hint of Alexi Murdoch. Ultimately, Oren Lavie’s music is soothing and I’d go for that any time.

Here’s a music video that he co-directed.

Her Morning Elegance

Sun been down for days
A pretty flower in a vase
A slipper by the fireplace
A cello lying in its case

Soon she’s down the stairs
Her morning elegance she wears
The sound of water makes her dream
Awoken by a cloud of steam
She pours a daydream in a cup
A spoon of sugar sweetens up

And she fights for her life
as she puts on her coat
And she fights for her life on the train
She looks at the rain
as it pours
And she fights for her life
as she goes in a store
with a thought she has caught
by a thread
she pays for the bread
and she goes…
Nobody knows

Sun been down for days
A winter melody she plays
The thunder makes her contemplate
She hears a noise behind the gate
Perhaps a letter with a dove
Perhaps a stranger she could love

And she fights for her life
as she puts on her coat
And she fights for her life on the train
She looks at the rain
as it pours
And she fights for her life
as she goes in a store
with a thought she has caught
by a thread
she pays for the bread
and she goes…
Nobody knows

And she fights for her life
as she puts on her coat
And she fights for her life on the train
She looks at the rain
as it pours
And she fights for her life
as she goes in a store
where the people are pleasantly
strange
and counting the
change
as she goes…
Nobody knows

16. Neil Young – Birds

When Neil Young recently guested at The Late Show with David Letterman many saw it as a let down primarily because he didn’t perform. He did talk about his latest project to make his 1959 Lincoln Continental fuel-efficient. It was interesting listening to this endeavor although he did admit that his project is limited only to proving that the conversion of old cars can be done. The price tag ($10 million!), or whether it would be affordable for everyone, is a different matter.

Young also talked about the latest documentary about his advocacy against Bush and his song Let’s Impeach the President. Perhaps, it was because of this that there was no performance; there’s really no way of telling.

Neil Young has been outspoken about his anti-war stands throughout his career. Some fans admire him for that. There are some fans who learned of Young when grunge ruled in the 90s. To this generation he was the Grungefather.

Growing up in the Philippines, I first heard Neil Young when Top 40 radio and jeepney drivers played Four Strong Winds to death. And because I hated country and folk when I was a kid, I endured listening to Young’s slide guitar and lazy nasal drawl practically everywhere I go.  Later on I heard Heart of Gold and I Believe in You, favorites among multiplex singers in the days when karaoke was still a dream. I’d read about the folk super-group CSNY but didn’t pay much attention.

Years later, when I was musically mature enough, I discovered the song After the Gold Rush.   I was blown away by the haunting piano track complemented by a desolate voice that sounded like coming from an AM transistor radio with its battery dying fast and singing about “Mother Nature on the run in the 1970s.” (I read somewhere that some fans of Wall*e thought that Pixar should have chosen this as the soundtrack of the closing credits instead of that song by Peter Gabriel.)

When I got a copy of the album, I found more gems. This time, I was able to appreciate I Believe in You. I loved the devil-may-care guitar solo of Southern Man. I was also taken in by the other love songs like Only Love Can Break Your Heart, Don’t let it Bring You Down (later covered by Annie Lennox and played in the closing minutes of American Beauty), Till the Morning Comes and my choice for the the saddest song of all time – Birds.

Here’s the lyrics and click here to hear the song:

Lover, there will be another one
Who’ll hover over you beneath the sun
Tomorrow, see the things that never come today

When you see me fly away without you
Shadow on the things you know
Feathers fall around you
And show you the way to go
It’s over, it’s over.

Nestled, in your wings my little one
This special morning brings another sun
Tomorrow see the things that never come today

When you see me fly away without you
Shadow on the things you know
Feathers fall around you
And show you the way to go
It’s over, it’s over.

15. Dead Ends – New Life

Thanks to the 1990s reissues of most of the albums in the Twisted Red Cross catalog, I was able to appreciate seminal Pinoy punk band Dead Ends. It was a relief to finally listen to these classics  in hi-fidelity audio. Second Coming, Dead Ends‘ aptly titled sophomore effort even came with a lyrics sheet.

I was already aware of the punk scene in the 80s but was too young to be allowed to attend the Brave New World concert series. When I was already in high school, punk concerts were still a no-no because, thanks to the media, Pinoy punk was branded as music for satanistas by virtue of the black shirts worn by kids to these gigs.

The closest I got to listening to Dead Ends’ music was from a dilapidated mixed tape of Damned Nation, their third album. By then, Dead Ends had already moved on to speed/hardcore; this album clocks at under 20 minutes. And because the entire album was copied onto the last minutes of an TDK-45 blank tape, two songs were missing including the punk rock anthem Johnny Loves Hardcore.

I never saw Dead Ends live. My memory of the band came from stories from friends. My friend Zaldy, who’s five years older, told me about this impromptu Dead Ends gig at one of the New Wave/Punk boutiques along Recto Ave. He swore it was impromptu because there wasn’t any gear at all when he walked in and in no time, there was Al Dimalanta screaming and strumming.

There was also Maria who was introduced to me as an English teacher but I later found out to be a Pinoy underground music insider. She told me how she became the first journalist to interview Al Dimalanta for the legendary Jingle Music Magazine.

Of course, there was also the faint underground music buzz. Al and his bassist brother Jay (RIP) are sons of revered poetess Ophelia Dimalanta. They recruited Harvey Alarcon, the meanest, fastest and youngest drummer then. He later played drums for Rizal Underground and POT.

My classmate in college had Al as English literature teacher in high school. He said he wore Luciano Creepers shoes to school. I also read somewhere that Dead Ends vied for the defunct 80s noon time show Ito Yon, Ang Galing’s battle of the bands contest and lost.

The band had detractors, too. Who didn’t? Al Dimalanta was always branded as a Jello Biafra (Dead Kennedys) wanna-be, vocals-wise that is. That they sang songs in English when Pinoy punk was music of the masses.

Ultimately, nobody can deny the tremendous talent of this Pinoy power trio. They were the first Pinoy band I heard who played with blinding speed without losing the tightness, the catchy riffs, the melodic bass lines, the complicated drumming, the angry young man rhetoric.

Click here to listen to New Life:

I’m too drowsy by I must get out of bed.
Now I know it’s hard to put the mind over the flesh.
Waking up with dead weights on my head.
Another case of too much change too soonI’ve got a brand new life and it’s just what I need
A brand new life and it’s just what I need right now

I’ve just come out from a fit of boredom and nothing is the same
Everyday I play my part in a carefully scripted play
Everyday I work to earn my pay but I don’t know just where the envelope goes

Unlike before when I could get up late
Nobody looking over my shoulders
Unlike before when I don’t have to act civilized
But now I have to be a square
Now I have to act respectable
And now I could make use of what I’ve learned

I’ve got a brand new life and it’s just what I need
A brand new life and it’s just what I need right now

14. Feist – 1234

It can be just the music. How the vibe is filled with glee. How the handclaps punctuate the infectious groove or how the wind instruments lilt.

It may as well be because of the lyrics. How the words hint on nostalgia -  All teenage hopes, blah blah, blah.  Money can’t buy you back the love that you had then (uhm, I guess). The nursery-rhymey attempt.

It can also be in the way Leslie sings. The fragility in the phrasing. The imminent possibility  that she will falter in singing the high notes.

It can also be because of the video. How minimalist it is (One long take, astig!) and still be unexpected. How the dominant colors are metallic yet soft to the eyes. It may also be because of the naturalness of the choreography. Performing the extraordinary feat of dancing like one doesn’t know how.

I can come up with more things to say about Feist’s 1234, but I guess, this song means more to me now because our kids sing along when this plays in the car or on the iPod Dock in the apartment.

Having our kids sing-along means (at least, to me) that they appreciate the kind of music we listen to. Nacho and Asha will only have to start singing “Oh, wo-oh!” in harmony and I’m already deluged with emotions. I can’t wait till Yumi starts talking, singing.

I cannot emphasize more the interconnectivity: our kids, lines about being young and carefree and expected to make mistakes, the dancing-like-no-one-is-watching passion, the first four numbers!

I can go on and on but before that, here’s the video again:

13. The Magnetic Fields – Busby Berkeley Dreams

I didn’t know what or who Busby Berkeley was when I first heard this song by The Magnetic Fields. All I knew was that this song is lovely in a heartbreaking way. It combines the stark honesty of an acoustic piano accompanying a faltering baritone made even poignant by soothing drones of a cello and a viola in the right places. If you take a closer listen, you might be prompted to expect to hear ambient noises from a guy’s bedroom recently deserted by a girl.

The first time I heard The Magnetic Fields they (?) had recently released the album Get Lost. I searched for this album because I read somewhere that it sounded as if produced in the early days of the synthesizers in the 70s and 80s.  The review was right and there wasn’t even any attempt at authenticity with the drum machines. Although the sound was dated, Merritt was able to muster enough fresh twists in this album that it stands out in songs like Why I Cry, You and Me and the Moon, and All the Umbrellas in London.

The Magnetic Fields is just one of indefatigable singer-songwriter Stephin Merritt’s alter-egos. Merritt is also the nucleus behind the alternative music duets project The 6ths, Future Bible Heroes and dark bubblegum group The Gothic Archies whose latest project is The Tragic Treasury: Music for [the movie] “A Series of Unfortunate Events.”

It would be difficult to map out Stephin Merritt’s musical breadth. He’s simply prolific that it was not a surprise anymore when he as the Magnetic Fields released a triple album aptly called 69 Love Songs - that’s 23 songs per CD, all about L-O-V-E.

Although the songs talk about a single topic, Merritt was wise enough experiment and jump from one musical genre to another. Of course, Merritt also made sure that not all of the songs are rose-tinted. He deliberately twists the  narratives to bizarre conclusions in some. Notably, the are short, reminiscent of 80s punk band The Minutemen’s songs. But don’t get fooled by the running time because the tracks are packed like haikus. Sometimes, they sound like sketches for even longer works.

So who is Busby Berkeley? Click here to find out or watch the spec video:

Busby Berkeley Dreams

I should have forgotten you long ago, but you’re in every song I know
Whining and pining is wrong and so on and so forth, of course of course,
But no, you can’t have a divorce

I haven’t seen you in ages, but it’s not as bleak as it seems
We still dance on whirling stages, in my Busby Berkeley dreams
The tears have stained all the pages, of my True Romance magazines
We still dance in my outrageously beautiful Busby Berkeley dreams

And now you want to leave me for good, I refuse to believe you could
You forget we’re not made of wood, well darling you may do your worst
Because you’ll have to kill me first

Do you think it’s dangerous to have Busby Berkeley dreams?

12. Asin – Itanong Mo Sa Mga Bata

It was a good thing the local boys, too, were aspiring rock stars. Edison had ditched the idea of packing a couple of drums for the mini tour. In fact, he decided not to bring even just his snare drum so he wouldn’t have to think about being charged for excess baggage or worse, having his instrument damaged in transit.

I was getting worried that Edison would not be able to find any percussion instrument come performance time. Then the boys arrived as we began our pick-up rehearsals on the morning of our first performance. We were right smack at the Ibajay town plaza when the the kids brought a makeshift drum kit to Edison like an offering to the local patron saint.

The first thing that came to mind was to ask them if they were serious. We almost laughed at the sight of this contraption. The hi-hat was a ring of flattened bottlecaps. The snare drum was a square motor oil container (1 gallon). The bass drum was a large square water container and there were more bottle caps in place of cymbals. The kids also made an improvised kick pedal out of thick rubber bands used for slingshots and a few slivers of bamboo.

Out of courtesy, I asked the other members to jam with us but they were just happy to listen to their ‘container’ drums being played by who they thought were professionals.

Our performance was a variation of Lipunan ng Karahasan – a multi-media rock opera that I wrote about how kids are exposed to violence in all its states – physical, emotional, moral, etc. It’s not an opera in the strict sense but more of a musical review that features my band’s original songs, some poems I wrote, a few covers (Juan dela Cruz’s Titsers Enemy Number One, The Smiths’ Barbarism Begins at Home and Asin’s Itanong Mo sa Mga Bata) while the actors dance and do other artsy stuff.

The kids stared at us like they’d forgotten why they were there in the first place. Their eyes became glassy as we performed my original songs that practically no one had heard before save for the band, the theater group and the few people who were unfortunate enough to have been to our gigs. I didn’t see their apathy in the first few songs because I was distracted. I was actually pleased with our sound that had become full and tight when Edison started banging on the ‘container” drums.

When I began strumming the first few bars of Itanong Mo Sa Mga Bata, there was still no reaction. It was only when I started singing the verses that they finally recognized a song from our ’set list’. I suddenly got goosebumps as they started to applaud and we weren’t even in the second stanza yet.

Before flying here, we were worried that the people of Aklan wouldn’t appreciate our performance. After all, we were all from Manila, alumni and alumnae of that Jesuit university along Katipunan Avenue. I guess the reception at the rehearsals was indication enough of how the rest of our tour would go.

However, I was still giddy.  I hadn’t memorized the lyrics to Itanong Mo sa Mga Bata. Also, I couldn’t  decide if I would use my baritone or sing it like Lolit Carbon. Worse, I still hadn’t figured out the song’s structure. I had already written the lyrics on my left forearm so I could just peek in case I forget.

To relieve some of the stress, we decided to troop to the nearest sari-sari store after the rehearsals and grab some beer. We were disappointed when the vendor told us they don’t have San Miguel Pale Pilsen. No beer except Gold Eagle Beer which had the reputation of being more water than an alcoholic beverage. The sari-sari store also didn’t own a refrigerator nor a cooler. Our only consolation was that the beer was very cheap.

Edison began praising the ‘container’ drum which I immediately seconded. Then Paul started telling jokes which we’d all heard before but still laughed at because we were beginning to get bored. One running joke of that trip involved the band Asin. I think it was a scene from a movie where a group of high school students were accosted by military personnel. When the soldiers checked out their bags and saw cassette tapes of Asin, they were immediately arrested and went missing indefinitely.

It was not really a joke. We were laughing because we saw Asin as musicians first. Not to trivialize the politics of Asin’s music but there were some other groups/artists who were really anti-government and radical in their views. To us, Asin were  innovators in Pinoy music. They introduced using ethnic instruments. The scene from the movie was, to us, plain irony. Getting arrested for having in your bag a cassette tape with a song about the environment (Masdan Mo Ang Kapaligiran), longing for one’s love (Himig ng Pag-ibig) or the diaspora (Ang Pagbabalik).

We also laughed at it because that scene from the movie could very well happen to us. Right there in Ibajay where skirmishes between the New People’s Army and the military had been intermittent. Our laughter was a preparation that in case it happened to us, who not only owned Asin cassette tapes but even sang their songs, we could laugh at their ignorance – mistaking singing songs in Tagalog as an indication of being anti-government.

Itanong mo sa mga bata tells us that we can learn a lot from children. We learned so many things during that mini tour. One is to improvise like what the kids did with the container drums. Another one is never to drink beer in the morning. And if you can’t really help it, stick to your brand or at least chill the bottles/cans first.

Here’s the lyrics and streaming music.

Itanong mo sa mga Bata

Ikaw ba’y nalulungkot, Ikaw ba’y nag-iisa
Walang kaibigan, Walang kasama
Ikaw ba’y nalilito, Pag-iisip mo’y nagugulo
Sa buhay ng tao, Sa takbo ng buhay mo
Ikaw ba’y isang mayaman, O ika’y isang mahirap lang
Sino sa inyong dalawa, Ang mas nahihirapan

CHORUS
Masdan mo ang mga bata, Ikaw ba’y walang nakikita
Sa takbo ng buhay nila
Masdan mo ang mga bata, Ang buhay ay hawak nila
Masdan mo ang mga bata, Ang sagot ay ‘yong makikita

Ikaw ba’y ang taong, Walang pakialam sa mundo
Ngunit ang katotohanan, Ikaw ma’y naguguluhan
Tayo ay naglalakbay, Habol natin ang buhay
Ngunit ang maging bata ba’y tulay, Tungo sa hanap nating buhay
Masdan mo ang mga bata, Ang aral sa kanila makukuha
Ano nga ba ang gagawin, Sa buhay na hindi naman sa atin

CHORUS 2
Itanong mo sa mga bata, Itanong mo sa mga bata
Ano ang kanilang nakikita, Sa buhay na hawak nila
Masdan mo ang mga bata, Sila ang tunay na pinagpala
Kaya dapat nating pahalagahan, Dapat din kayang kainggitan

11. Malcolm McLaren with Catherine Deneuve – Paris, Paris

Having fronted a punk rock band, it was hard for me to believe Dante that Malcolm McLaren was even worth a listen.

Though I was more a fan of The Clash than the Sex Pistols, I was aware how thoroughly vilified McLaren was (still is) in rock music.  I’d read about his ugly divorce from the most notorious band in history -  a band he helped (and exploited, some say) become famous.

Of course, the credit for inventing punk, that musical revolution which also became a subculture and philosophy, is debatable. It depends more on which side of the Atlantic one is. No one can deny,  though, that it was Mclaren’s who gathered (rounded up?)  teenagers Johnny Lydon,  John Simon Ritchie, Paul Cook, and Steve Jones and made them poster boys for his fashion boutique called Sex if not members of a rock band.

As we worked on direct marketing campaign materials, Dante played electronica and all its various ephemeral incarnations like drum and bass, jungle, house, rave, big beat, trip hop, trance . Although I was opinionated about my music then  I didn’t mind. To me, it was music that was not demanding. It was perfect background music as I wrote copy for a Unicef or a Citibank mailer. Dante was also the head of Creative Department so no one dared replace the Orbital cassette with Rage Against the Machine’s debut.

Despite his penchant for electronica, Dante looked more of a rocker than a raver. It was easy to mistake him as a fan of The Ramones than  McLaren. After (almost) nightly binges with the guys from the Creative Department, it became clear to me that Dante was not particularly a fan of what I called then as artificial music. In fact, he dug rock music, too. I leaned later on that he listened to jazz, classical and world music. He was  open-minded about music that it suddenly struck me as something both profound and liberating.

So there I was, limiting my choice of music to rock when an entire spectrum of music had been there all along. This was a turning point in my listening life. I guess it also helped that there was indeed a blurring of the genres during this time. The Chemical Brothers and The Prodigy proved that the perfect marriage of electronica, sampled beats and rock was possible. Soon, other genre-bending acts appeared like acne of many a teenager’s face. DJs began ruling the music scene. That was 1997. A year ago, Trainspotting had already immortalized this era with a cool soundtrack to boot.

Eventually, Dante loaned me his Paris CD. He told me that he didn’t want me to listen to McLaren’s earlier album called Fans because it was more dance music. Together with this, he also let me borrow Dead Can Dance’s Toward the Within, Beastie Boys’ The In Sound From Way Out, and Massive Attack’s Protection.

I was resisted at first. I was skeptical about the use of French. I was also wary of the Dada sensibilities in some tracks and the attempt at poetry reading in Miles and Miles of Miles Davis. McLaren is one to name-drop every chance he gets  (Josephine Baker, Eric Satie, Mile Davis, Catherine Deneuve).  There was also some echoes of Enigma in  Paris, Paris and the Serge Gainsbourg cover of Je T’aime Mon Nom Plus where the moaning in the end sounds not only real but also excitingly near.

At best, Paris was so fluid in its genre adventurism it rinsed my rock-weary ears. I still listen to this album because it tells me to be keep an open mind in music. And it worked. Even though I couldn’t understand 80% of Paris, Paris because it is in French, I thought  there was something in it that I thought I might like, say, a feeling or a perspective. Ultimately, it is Ms. Denueve’s lilting French that saved it all. In fact, she didn’t even need to sing to make this track celestial.

Here’s the lyrics and the video that shows one aspect of the album I deliberately didn’t discuss because talking about Paris as oozing with sex is just like saying a sugar is sweet.

I feel love, Paris Paris
Love to love, Paris Paris
Feelings so close to my heart

Barman dans le shaker, d’abord de l’élégance
Un trait de Sacré-Coeur et deux doight de Doisneau
Une Piaf, quelques moineaux et Joséphine Baker…

Là une de Prévert, mais sans raton-laveur
Prenons un dernier verre pres Bateau lavoir
Une Sinone de Beauvoir et deux singes en hiver…
Last night was made for love

Mettez trois notes de jazz dans un quatier latin
Un menu sur l’ardoise un fond d’un bar-tabac
Et la résille d’un bas sur un genou qu on croise

Oh Baby, just take my frozen hands and hear me say
Don’t let me turn to sand and blow away
Though this crowded desert called Paris

I feel love, Paris Paris
Love to love, Paris Paris
Feelings so close to my heart

Un zeste de Javanaise, un tour de
Moulin Rouge et deux de Notre-Dame
Nappé de macadam, décoré d’un chaland
D’Anvers ou d’Amsterdam un canal, Arletty

Oh Baby, just hold this lonely fan and hear him say
Don’t let me turn to sand and blow away
Though this crowded desert called Paris
Sans doute la seule femme qui pouvait dire
“Paname”

I feel love, Paris Paris
Love to love, Paris Paris
Feelings so close to my heart

Mettez trois notes de jazz dans un quatier latin
Un menu sur l’ardoise un fond d’un bar-tabac
Et la résille d’un bas sur un genou qu on croise

I feel love, Paris Paris
Love to love, Paris Paris
Feelings so close to my heart

Saupoudrez, pour finir, de poussière du métro
Mais n’en prenez pas trop, Paris perdrait son âme

10. The Cure – A Few Hours After This

Jonel looked more like the Math major that he was than a music geek. So when he told me he was selling his entire The Cure cassette collection, I became a bit suspicious. I thought that the collection was not his but some hot item. He just didn’t look like a druggie who would steal for a quick fix.

It was the beginning of the semester and he was the only person in that French class, a foreign language elective, who would talk to me. He told me he was friends with some friends whom I’d jam with and I believed him. I needed his company also because I was the only freshman in that sophomores-populated class.

Later on, I learned that he was, indeed, a certified music geek. In between French grammar quizes, we would talk about the whole range of music genres from bands like The The to Guns ‘n’ Roses to Megadeth to Aztec Camera.

I didn’t dare ask him if as to the why and ‘where from’ of his offer. I figured he needed the cash for rent. Students from the countryside, like him, who go to the city to study usually fell short on their budget.

For less than P300, I got the entire The Cure discography from Three Imaginary Boys (which IMHO is their best album cover) to Disintegration. That was thirteen albums including two double albums. I already owned some of the albums like Standing on the Beach: The Singles, but since I was not a true-blue The Cure fan, I didn’t dig deep into their catalog. I was, however, intrigued by the things I had read about them. And what better way to get to know the band was to listen.

Because The Cure has a tendency to be achingly saccharine (Robert Smith can’t help it with a voice like his, can he?), I gave more time listening to the dark (Goth, to some) albums which included Faith, Pornography and Seventeen Seconds. For those who fell in love with The Cure just because of In Between Days, they would definitely get a shock listening to these albums. Most of the songs are gloomy and repetitive like being lost in a dull dream. There is seldom a hint of the sun-shiny pop Robert Smith has been known for except maybe for the track Play for Today but that’s not even a happy song.

I also listened extensively to Staring at the Sea : The B-Sides*. It was a mish-mash of genre from Goth to New Wave to Pop and the the classically-arranged A Few Hours After This.

I instantly liked this song because it stood out from all the other The Cure songs I’d heard before. To me, this song is easily on top of the most heartbreaking of all of Robert Smith’s songs. It features a wailing Smith backed by an orchestra replete with a timpani thrown in for extra measure.

Jonel never asked me about ‘the discography.’  Together with aforementioned friends, we would eventually hang out, jam in the football field after ROTC, and talk about music and literature (he was a fan of Franz Kafka). We talked about girls, sure. But, because we were geeks, we only talked about them.

I don’t  recall  last time I saw Jonel or the other guys. Last I heard, Jonel took up law and was practicing in his hometown in Mindoro. Before moving here, I often thought about those times whenever I saw my The Cure cassette discography. Now that I’ve left all my cassette tapes in Manila, it remains to be seen how I will manage remembering.

A Few Hours After This

The look before I go is the look for you.
You only have to look and it will all come true
and we can fall outside into the fizzy night
Or pull me down in here you know it’s all the same
I only want to see if you are happy again
or we can roll around and find out upside down

a few hours after this and we’re apart again
like two white checks, like opposite poles
in a secret game
(like nothing like these i suppose… )
I really should have known by the cut of your smile
that the answer would be simple
it still took you a while to get it out of me
I thought you’d do it easily

just put your hands around my heart
and squeeze me until i’m dry
I never thought you’d ever start to ever ask me why…

I never saw you again

(* When The Cure’s catalog was released on CD, Staring at the Sea was adapted as the title of the ‘Best of’ which included some tracks that weren’t in the original cassette and LP release).

9. Sampaguita – Sa Diyos Lamang

A day after we picked up Tatay at the Manila International Airport, we went to Cherry Foodarama on Shaw Boulevard.

I remember listening to Freddie Aguilar’s Anak in the cab on the way home and staring at Tatay’s hair that was long by Martial Law’s standard. Because of his job as a seaman, my sister and I practically grew up without a father. He’d be with us only from two to three months after his ten to twelve months of working  overseas.

Of course, we were excited to see Tatay. We missed him every time he went away. But we were also excited about his pasalubong – a Sony 3-in-1 Stereo System (an FM/AM tuner, cassette and record player). We were quite sure it was something that the other households didn’t have. Our neighbors had the huge, cabinet type record player that was the in thing then (to compliment the Hitachi or Radiowealth cabinet-type TV). What our Tatay brought home was the compact record player (this in the  days when stereo component systems were still an idea).

I don’t recall what other grocery items we got from Cherry Foodarama but we sure did spend an extra time at the record bar. Surely, we got Ka Freddie’s debut album. We also got Sampaguita’s eponymous self-titled debut album.

I’d heard Sampaguita on the radio then although I was not conscious about the singers or the artists. My excuse probably would be my age – I was not yet in Kindergarten.

Like all our other records from our measly collection, we played Sampaguita (the album) to death that we had memorized not only the lyrics but also the nuances of the songs like the exact length of the silences between particular tracks, the various colors of legendary drummer Edmond ‘Bosyo’ Fortuno’s syncopation.

During this time, Bonggahan and Tao (a track that I will forever associate with the highway going to Abra) had also been enjoying heavy rotation in major radio stations. I also loved (still do) Sayawan, Kumadre, Easy Pare and the poignant blues instrumental - Sampaguita Theme. If you have the chance, listen to that track for it is guitarist Gary Perez’ masterpiece. It has to be, at least to me, one of the greatest Pinoy Rock songs.

The other one is Sa Diyos Lamang, an almost 8-minute epic  where Sampaguita sings her soul about a heartbreak and then a devotion to a god that turns out not to be the god that we Roman Catholics grow up believing. In this track Perez’ melodic solos compliment Sampaguita’s husky supplication that fades out with a choir chanting praises to Krishna and Rama.

Here’s the lyrics and the link to the streaming music:

Magmula nang makilala kita, Sinta. Puso ko’y nagbago. Isip ko ay naiba.
Dati-rati, pag-ibig ay laruan lamang. Ngayon ay hindi na. Kasintigas na ng bata ang puso ko.

Bakit kaya, bakit kaya nangyayari ito.
Kung sino pa ang minamahal mo. Siya pa ang hindi tapat sa ‘yo.

Dapat lang kaya na ikaw ay masisi ko, Mahal. Sinabi ko noon sa ‘yo na huwag mo naman akong paglaruan.
Kasalanan ba, kung ika’y mahalin, Hirang. Sinabi nga noon sa ‘kin, baka lamang ito’y pagsisihan sa hulihan.

Bakit kaya, bakit kaya nangyayari ito.
Kung sino pa ang minamahal mo. Siya pa ang hindi tapat sa ‘yo.

O Pag-ibig, bakit kay lupit mo sa tao. Ngayon ay nakita ko ang tunay na damdamin ng puso ko. Naririto.

Sa diyos lamang. Hindi na masasaktan.
Pag-ibig ng diyos lamang. Sa diyos lamang.

Click Sampaguita – Sa Diyos Lamang to listen to the song.

8. Grand Funk Railroad – Inside Looking Out

During my senior year in high school a couple of friends asked me if I wanted to form a band for the upcoming foundation day. I’ve had a little experience playing in a band, so I accepted the offer. I told them, however,  that I had one problem – I didn’t own an electric guitar. Terence, who was to be the keyboard player, assured me that it was alright and that he would ask his guitarist friend to loan me his axe.

Next thing I knew, Terence was handing me a well-worn white Philippine-made Fender Strat. He told me it was from a guy who was with the local born-again Christian Church.

I later became friends with the guitarist. I wanted to know him because of his generosity. How could a someone entrust his main musical weapon to a stranger?  I was also intrigued if he was really a speaking-in-tongues-type like what Terence painted him to be.

The mystery was shattered when I returned his guitar to his place. We went straight to his bedroom/studio and I saw LPs of Black Sabbath, Led Zeppelin and Savoy Brown on the floor. He was playing an extended blues jam by Johnny Winter on his dilapidated turntable. Some loose pages of music magazine were also strewn about the floor.

When he saw me ogling his record collection, he told me I could go check them out.  I was overwhelmed since I had more fingers that LP records. There was ELO’s Discovery, several albums of The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, and a couple of Pinoy Rock legends Juan de la Cruz’s LPs too.

What got my attention was this album by Grand Funk Railroad (Survival). I’ve heard Grand Funk before. Their song We’re an American Band was a overplayed in recklessly driven passenger jeepneys. When the guitarist saw me insert my hand inside the empty LP, he scratched his head and told me that he lost the LP a long time ago. He added that if I wanted to listen to GFR, I could just borrow the Grand Funk Live Album instead. What really struck me was that he offered it to me even without me asking for it.

He put the LP on before we left, after teaching me the main riff for Inside Looking Out. After that short guitar lesson, I felt that  GFR was better bluesier and raw. The band also made me realize that the concept of a power trio is possible and highly capable of kicking ass.

Later on, I would be best friends with this guitarist. I’d learn that despite his spirituality, he didn’t believe in God. At least not in the Judeo-Christian concept of Deity. (It was GFR’s guitarist and singer who would become a born-again Christian).

My friend would play one of the meanest guitar solos in one of my future band’s rare studio recording. Eventually, this best friend would be the best man at my wedding.

Here’s a 1969 performance of Inside Looking Out by Grand Funk Railroad and lyrics:

I’m sitting here lonely like a broken man.
I serve my time doin the best I can.
Walls and bars they surround me.
But, I don’t want no sympathy.

No baby, no baby,
All I need is some tender lovin.
To keep me sane in this burning oven.
And, when my time is up, you’ll be my reefer.

Life gets worse on gods green earth.
Be my reefer, got to keep smokin that thing.
No, no, no, no, no, no.

Ice cold water is runnin through my veins.
They try and drag me back to work again.
Pain and blisters on my mind and hands.
I work all day making up NICKEL (burlap) bags.

The oats they’re feeding me are driving me wild.
I feel unhappy like a new born child.
Now, when my time is up, you wait and see.
These walls and bars wont keep that stuff from me.

No, no, baby,
Wont keep that stuff from me.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.