I probably will be living on salt and rice in the next few days, but goddamn when you’ve got something as good as this, starvation really isn’t a bad thing:
He is currently nameless (but I’m sure it’s a “he”), so help me out kids.
Audio Rape
That might actually be a good name for a band, or at least a duet featuring two of the fruitiest actors in Pinoy show business: Piolo Pascual and Sam Milby.
Now I’m no showbiz insider, but who the hell decided that popularity with the masses is sufficient reason to give someone an album?
And no, I’m not talking about a photo album.
For some twisted reason, my sister has opted not to take advantage of the gazillions of channels available via the Destiny Cable we pay for monthly and is instead watching some sort of Sam Milby concert.
You read that right. Sam Milby. In concert.
I don’t know if you’ve noticed — certainly, the people over at ABS-CBN have not — but the man cannot sing. He cannot, for the life of him, carry a decent tune.
So why then is he given a concert, much less the time of day?
And it doesn’t end with this homo … sapien.
Oh no.
There’s also Kris Aquino and her ilk releasing albums that purportedly document their thoughts and — barf — emotions. Is our nation so pathetic that we’ve resorted to buying celebrity playlists?
Of course the albums come with glamorous pictures of these pretentious bobbleheads, the better to persuade fools to part with their money. But honestly, would you pay good money to see Kris Aquino emoting on paper?
Toilet paper, maybe.
I find it absolutely unfortunate that this country filled with talented singers and musicians has to fill the airwaves with vacuous non-performers and screaming, gyrating ex-Japayukis.
And oh, just to complete the rant on Pinoy music, fuck you Cueshe. Fuck you.
No Future for Me
There’s something about punk rock that still resonates in me, nearly a decade after I first heard “I Don’t Want to Grow Up” by The Ramones.
At that time I was halfway between knowing and not knowing, with “knowing” mostly meaning knowing only what the authorities in my life wanted me to know. It’s a sad little game adults play, cramming their values and morals down the throats of unsuspecting kids. The essential anti-establishment message of the entire Ramones discography — as well as the sad little charade of decency my Values Education teacher presented each and every day — pretty much drove me over the edge and into the welcoming arms of Sid Vicious.
Hopefully, said arms (or hands) no longer hold the knife that killed Nancy, but that’s not actually the point.
Anyway, it was all good and raw and truthful back then. Punk rock reflected every fiber of what I was. I never did go around the metro screaming “anarchy!” and spray painting every priest I came across. On hindsight, maybe I should have. Certainly would’ve let out quite a serious amount of angst that way, thereby lessening the probability of my impending meeting with a psychiatrist over my “clinical anxiety”.
The point is, at that time punk rock was my reality. I could lash out at the Man and squirm in an attempt to get out from under his thumb. I ignored society’s dictates, made fun of cut-and-dry semi-robots who existed but didn’t live. For all intents and purposes, I saw myself as above it all.
I didn’t see myself fitting into any of society’s neat little labels. It was just too much fun being different from the rest of the world’s stupid little tamagotchis. I saw them for what they were: drones with no color or discernible personality of any sort.
I have, unfortunately, aged. Responsibilities have caught up with me, and at the grand old age of 25, I must say that the world has successfully harshed my mellow. I still hate the world, if I may make myself clear, but to paraphrase James Marsters, twenty-something punk rockers with cushy corporate jobs are suspect. And yes, I’m quoting James Marsters. Now shut it.
I’m everything I never wanted to be, quite frankly.
I didn’t want a desk job. I wanted to be traveling, writing, drinking — whatever it was that would let me be me. I, who famously snorted at any hints of yuppie-ness, have somehow become a Starbucks-guzzling (occasionally; I can’t always afford it) semi-reliable corporate foot soldier after just four or so years out of college.
I sort of feel foolish and deceitful, listening to the Pistols and the Dead Kennedys sing about the oppressive culture built by greed and power. I work for the Man, for crying out loud. All rebelliousness flew out the window the moment I signed the dotted line.
Listening to Johnny Rotten sing “there’s no future for you, no future for me”, therefore, has become sort of more nostalgic rather than rebellious. There is a future for me, and it came with a rather hefty price tag.
I came down kicking and screaming, but in the end common sense won over inedible things like “dreams” and “principles”. I’m not knocking my present job. It’s pretty much the only thing standing between me and starvation. As much as I love the people I work with and the stability of being employed, though, there’s always the nagging realization that I’ve sold out.
But there’s hope yet. If — and that’s a pretty big finish-your-thesis-or-else if — I do finish my Masters this year, I have it on good authority (the Dean *ahem*) that I can start teaching in UP. I can only teach part time, though, as teaching pays in pennies and pennies cannot support my book addiction. Or my family. In other words, I need to remain enslaved to the man while foisting my antisocial tendencies on unsuspecting students on weekends.
It’s either that or I take the first flight to Macau, where I shall hereafter harass the locals with my guitar-playing under the nom de guerre Bogart Bautista.
***************************
If you must know, title is taken from a line in “God Save the Queen” by the Sex Pistols.
Cosmic Connection
I found this on Jessica Zafra’s website.
Apparently, Ely Buendia listens to The Ramones — my favoritest punk rock band in the universe.
Granted a lot of people listen to The Ramones.
And yes, it’s not terribly exciting news that Ely listens to The Ramones, but for someone like me whose very existence is anchored on everything related to Ely Buendia, this is the most fantastic news ever (next only to news that he has seen the light and is now willing to marry me).
I like The Ramones. He likes The Ramones.
Ergo…
…stay tuned.
(Or not. “Stay tuned” just seemed like the appropriate thing to say.)
Double Apple Celebration
This is late, I know. You’ve probably heard of this before, but I haven’t till recently so be kind.
boohoo, can't afford it
Click here for the details.
And wipe that drool off your chin.
Pure — Wait for It — Genius
Listen to this and tell me you didn’t get chills running up and down your spine.
Yep, We’re Still Talking About the Eraserheads
As much as I would like to focus on completing my now two weeks overdue school report, I am sidetracked by post-reunion concert interviews with three of the Eraserheads. I am fascinated, obviously, and would’ve loved nothing more than be in Gang Badoy’s (the interviewer) shoes.
Anyway, Marcus is — as usual — the most laid-back of the three. He’s so calm you’d think Bin Laden just surrendered and joined a monastery. Buddy’s obviously very mature, his answers sort-of daddyish. Raymund seemed like he was playing it cool and coy, dodging questions on reunification and the testy waters that surround his relationship with Ely Buendia.
But whatever. All three agree that they were overwhelmed by the crowd’s response and the spontaneous combustion of love in the air that night. Plus they’re all extremely willing to play as the Eheads again.
Best line of the three interviews:
“Basta masaya ako…” ~ Marcus, explaining how things were between him and the other members of the band.
Plus this, of course:
“I want Ely to fully recover soon and talk him into finishing it.” ~ Raymund, on finishing the reunion concert.
Now all we need is Ely.
Astigas … or Why Raymund Marasigan is a God
[Yes, this is my nth consecutive Eraserheads-related post for the week and I'm not apologizing.]
Raymund Marasigan has never been my favorite Eraserhead. I don’t exactly know why (maybe it’s because I prefer the laconic Ely over flamboyant Raymund), but that’s how it’s always been.
Until today, that is: September 3 2008, also known as the day I recognized the utmost rocker god that is Mr. Marasigan.
I’m not a professional musician, but as someone who knows the magic that guitar-playing can wield, I can wholeheartedly say I understand. There’s something about playing music that soothes the heart and calms the soul.
Plus he knows how to use “albeit”. And he just gave solid evidence that yes, the Eraserheads are back on good terms. What that means for them professionally doesn’t really matter anymore. Just knowing that the four greatest Filipino musicians of my life are back on speaking terms is good enough for me.
Seriously, I got all teary-eyed and corny after reading this message from Raymund Marasigan (no he did not send it to my inbox directly; how I wish it was so).
That is some serious bad-assery, man, and I will hold you in high esteem for it from now until forever.
to whom it may concern
i dont usually rant but ive been hearing reports about people
questioning why we played saguijo after the concert.first things first. when marlboro pulled out and cancelled the show a
week ago, the band was free of all obligation to play the show. if it
was about the money we could have just walked away fully paid no
explanations to the press or anybody. free from the contract. the band
decided to play nevertheless. the tickets and the prices was for the
new promoters to buy out the production from philip morris to put it
simply. contrary to what some people think it takes money to stage a
concert. stage, lights, and video screens don’t magically grow out of
the ground. that’s what the ticket prices were for. the band was not
in the negotiation meetings between the the two promoters and we did
not want to be in the meetings.personally i said just call me cos i’m ready to rock. no extra pay no
contract negotiations. as far as the eheads was concerned were out of
the contract.but here’s what you dont understand. playing music is what we do. we
play when we’re happy, play when we’re sad, play when we’re angry,
play when we’re sick, play til we die.painters paint, writers write, my skateboarding friends skate or die.
when u ask nba superstars what they do in their spare time. they play
basketball.
us musicians, we play. thats what we do. getting paid is a bonus. i
will not apologize for that. when we don’t get paid we still play.we played saguijo because we wanted to, we needed to. our hearts and
souls dictated it. we could just go home and sleep. we did not talk
about it. there was no invites there was no plan. we did not get paid.
we borrowed equipment.yes ely knew about it. buddy told him the next day. yes pupil was in
saguijo too.yes marcus buddy and i have lost a parent. we know how it feels.
ive been playing music for more than 30 years. professionally since
1993.there have been a few times when it was me who was unable to
continue the set due to illness. albeit it was a lesser scale and
(thankfully) never reported. it was nonetheless life threatening. ive
had a run in with losing my voice, food poisoning, diarreah
(embarassing) and a few more i do not care to mention that involved
blood and bones. i had to drop out of the set from the eheads, cambio
and sandwich. thankfully there was always someone there to finish the
set for me. and i am thankful that they were there. i did not feel
bad. ive also saved a few shows from other bands when [gooey brown stuff] happens. we
dont plan this and we dont complain but we still play.my bmx friends ride with broken bones.
if we finished the eheads show that night you would STILL have found
us in guijo playing after.yes i visited ely in the hospital yesterday. i hope he recovers soon.
we have a show to finish.music is life
ill only stop playing when i die.raym<s>
And now I suppose I will learn to spell his name correctly.
Remember This? You Should
Still high on Eraserheads-induced nostalgia, my latest BFF (according to me) Marian shared these tasty bits of the Eheads acting in an episode of Mikee Cojuangco’s drama anthology. I often caught most of Mikee’s episodes (no cable back then, ahem) so I’m wondering how I missed this particularly interesting episode.
Maybe I did watch it, but the cringe factor made me forget. It’s too funny to pass up though, so I’m sharing them here, too. Thanks to schizo102 for uploading these videos.
Ely’s a bit chubby here, Buddy is thin, Raimund is cool as usual and Marcus seems … high. Incredibly, you can see him smiling slightly when the aswang attacks. The close up shot of a screaming Buddy is precious. If someone can upload their guesting on Iskul Bukol I will be eternally grateful. But enough of this drivel. On to the show:
