OST: Luis is Listening

From Thor: "If you were to create the soundtrack of your life, this would be the song playing when you are..."

LONELY OR DOWN:

From a Late Night Train by The Blue Nile. Other possibilities: I Live To Fall Asleep by Manic Street Preachers, and the acoustic version of Everything But The Girl's Come On Home.

IN LOVE:

There She Goes by The La’s -- yeah, I know: it’s probably actually about heroin. But hey, love is a dangerous drug too, which, just like heroin, may result over time in scarred and/or collapsed veins, bacterial infections of the blood vessels and heart valves, abscesses and other soft-tissue infections, and liver or kidney disease. Oh, and constipation. And then there's Cole Porter’s Looking at You -- Life seemed so gray/ I wanted to end it/ Till that wonderful day/ You started to mend it -- yay, suicidal depression and unabashed romanticism in bed together! And finally: As The World Falls Down by David Bowie.

FIGHTING WITH YOUR SIGNIFICANT OTHER:

Messy Shitty by The Spinanes. You Give Love a Bad Name by Bon Jovi. And Dare To Be Stupid by "Weird Al" Yankovic. Okay, I can hear you now!

HAVING SEX:

Again, Dare To Be Stupid by "Weird Al" Yankovic. Just kidding. Almost anything from Portishead's first album, To Bring You My Love by PJ Harvey, and Massive Attack.

NURSING A BROKEN HEART:

Buwan by Itchyworms. Far From Me by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds: You were my mad little lover/ In a world where everybody fucks everybody else over/ You who are so far from me. And, for real wrist-slitting action, Broken Heart by Spiritualized.

IN NEED OF CHEERING UP:

Livin' It Up by Rickie Lee Jones, Don’t Give Up The Fight by The Magic Numbers, the Built to Spill version of Linus and Lucy, Try Again Today by The Charlatans, and Wrapped in Grey by XTC.

ABOUT TO EMBARK ON A ROAD TRIP:

Several Josh Rouse songs come to mind, but I can't remember all their titles now, so how about Survival Car by Fountains of Wayne? And, for some reason, I've Had It by Aimee Mann has always struck me as the kind of music that would suit the beginning of a really early-morning road trip, like around 5 AM just before sunrise.

SUNBATHING ON A TROPICAL BEACH:

All I Need is Everything by Aztec Camera, Se a vida e by Pet Shop Boys, and Pussy by Brazilian Girls. Beach-tastic!

FEELING GROGGY AND NEED TO WAKE UP:

Discolite by Teenage Fanclub! The Robots in My Bedroom Were Playing Arena Rock by The Soft Lightes! And Don't Let the Bastards Grind You Down by Toasters! Whooo! *trips over furniture*

FEELING SUICIDAL:

Without You I'm Nothing by Placebo (tick, tock).

ANGRY, VERY ANGRY:

Grrr! Hulk Smash to the tune of: Speed by Atari Teenage Riot. Stockholm Syndrome by Muse. And One Man Army by The Prodigy with Tom Morello (also good for Tae-Bo workouts).

SINGING AT THE VIDEOKE BAR:

Speak To Me Someone by Gene is, in some parallel world, a bigger videoke staple than "My Way." And maybe that parallel world would also have The Pixies' Where is My Mind? on their sing-along machines. And maybe that parallel world is called "Japan". Here's hoping.

DANCING BY YOURSELF IN YOUR ROOM:

Lotsa stuff. Signs by Snoop Dogg and JT, Super Bon Bon by Soul Coughing, Music Gets The Best of Me by Sophie Ellis-Bextor, and Cool as Ice (Everybody Get Loose) by Vanilla Ice with Naomi Campbell, not that I'd ever admit any of this in a public forum. Oh wait, I just did.

SINGING, DANCING AND DRUNK OFF YOUR ASS:

I don't believe I've ever been singing, dancing and drunk off my ass, at least not all at the same time (unless you count that wake I attended once). But I can totally imagine the soundtrack for such a scene: Don't Stop Me Now by Queen, 99 Luft Problems (a Jay-Z/Nena mash-up), and Le Tigre's version of I'm So Excited. I'm about to lose control, and I think I like it!

PLAYING AIR GUITAR:

Basically, 80s hair metal: Slip of the Tongue by Whitesnake, Photograph by Def Leppard, Dreams by Van Halen. Although that last one might result in Air Keyboarding rather than Air Guitaring.

CHILLING ON A RAINY AFTERNOON:

Life Goes On by The Sundays, Lonesome Reply by The Whiles, 1992 by Isha, The Build-Up by Kings of Convenience, and One For Sorrow, Two For Joy by The Innocence Mission (thanks to Robyn for introducing me to that last one).

REMINISCING ABOUT HIGH SCHOOL:

Days of hanging out in the front lobby and the canteen, requesting songs on NU and dedicating them to girls we yearned after secretly, sharing mixtapes, discussing lyrics, paging through shitty yet compelling music zines. Gravity by Translator, Little Paradise by The Dawn (although, actually, anything from The Dawn's first three albums will do), and anything from The Seeds of Love by Tears for Fears. And of course, The Smiths, The Cure, New Order... all the usual suspects, for someone my age.

REMINISCING ABOUT COLLEGE:

All of Little Earthquakes by Tori Amos and Automatic for the People by R.E.M., as well as Waiting for Somebody by Paul Westerberg, and the first three Eraserheads albums. Stayed too long in college, worried too much, did too little. Still, music, a handful of new friends (and a handful of old ones), and monthly installments of Neil Gaiman's Sandman saw me through.

GETTING MARRIED:

I Believe in a Thing Called Love by The Darkness. At that point in the song which basically demands that people clap their hands above their heads in time with the beat -- you'll know it when you hear it -- I expect the congregation to behave accordingly. The priest can do the guitar solo. Alternatively, We Go Together from Grease. Shoowop shoowally wally yippity boom-de-boom!

What fun! And what fun to go through other people's soundtracks: like Thor's, Margie's, and Jovan's. Now I want to see lists from more people. Yes! That means you. ;)

I Should've Known From the Start

Going to the Alliance Francaise later for a group exhibit opening. You should, too. This is the same group of happily pop-culture-drunk lunatics who did Go Chopsuey Go! last year at Big Sky Mind, so it'll be worth it. Hell, the title alone should make you want to, as they say, check it out.

QUIT PLAYING GAMES WITH MY ART

featuring works by: clint catalan | bernie sim | ronald caringal | marcushiro | brian vallesteros | dave yogore | jordan santos

opening night: oct3, monday | alliance francaise | total gallery | cocktails and good wine at 630pm | band performances at 8pm

performances by: bagetsafonik | chillitees | morse | enemy of the enemy

exhibit runs till oct 28 alliance francaise is at: 209 nicanor garcia st. (formerly reposo), bel air II, makati city

gallery hours: M T TH 9am-6pm | W 9am-9pm | F 9am-12pm | Sat 9am-5pm | Sun 2pm-5pm

From the press release:

Man's evolution has been blessed by "the gift of immaturity itself, which has enabled us to retain in our best, most human moments the capacity for play." So said Joseph Campbell, an author of mythology and comparative religion, whose work has inspired a certain George Lucas to create the Star Wars galaxy.

In the same vein, a group of seven 'gifted children' -- who moonlight as graphic designers, visual artists, independent filmmakers and illustrators -- present imagery which retraces their own childhood, and their penchant for everyday play. In Quit Playing Games with My Art, subtitled "Ay, Pwede Pala," the audience is encouraged to interact with Jordan Santos’ man-made toy pieces and Marcushiro’s unhinged interpretations of second-hand literature. Brian Vallesteros explores the randomness of art through an indiscriminate and mindlessly enjoyable play of found objects. Likewise taken with games of chance, Cubicle Gallery curator Clint Catalan lets the vertical tumble of a pachinko ball decide the fate of its willing vassal. Dave Yogore also toys with destiny, as he reinterprets the cards of Tarot with painted humor and childlike tomfoolery. In the end, while Cubicle Gallery curator Ronald Caringal’s favorite childhood characters invade each other’s worlds and wreak even more gratuitous pop art havoc on the canvas, Bru burrows herself in the soft shapes of candy-colored ponies, and dissects how play can awaken one’s sensuality through her installations of fancy fantasy.

Although play has its own structure, it exists to become our escape from logic and causality. In play, we are free to create our own endings and, in a roundabout way, our own realities. Needless to say, it's also a lot of fun.

Slice Like a Ninja, Cut Like a Razor Blade

Had a great time at Ninja Kiss 10: Ninja Ka Ng Ina Mo!, which, unlike most ninjas, struck in loud and nonlethal style last night at SaGuijo.

First up was mainstay band Bagetsafonik, who mark their third year together as a band today (congratulations Ace Doi Marcus etcetera!). As usual, they rocked the place with their electro-dream-hip-pop-rock-tronic music; old favorites like "Halogen" and "Song for the Sunlight (Back in the Day)" were highlights, and somewhat newer, almost alarmingly radio-friendly tunes were featured in their set too.

Reggae band Hemp Republic provided the production night's fantastic finale: mixing popular hits like "Pass the Dutchie" and No Doubt's "Underneath it All" (not to mention the obligatory Marley stuff, and a perhaps ill-advised cover of Sting's "Love is the Seventh Wave") with their own excellent material, they got everyone up and dancing by the close of their set, at around 3 AM.

In between, we had Switch (a decent industrial rock act that reminded some of my companions of Nine Inch Nails and "a more electronic Korn"), and Sino Sikat. I expected to appreciate the sets by Bagetsafonik and Hemp Republic -- both bands whose performances I've enjoyed immensely before -- but I was surprised, and blown away, by Sino Sikat. Despite their throwaway name, they're amazing to watch, and not just because of the good-looking members. Their brand of Pinoy soul -- spiced with dashes of funk, pop, jazz, and a strong sense of fun -- is sensual, skilled, beguiling, and will have you moving like a mofo. I was wondering why vocalist Kat looked familiar: turns out it's because of the striking photograph of her taken by Juan Caguicla, which takes up a whole page in the May 2005 issue of PULP. Rereading that brief feature on them, I'm surprised by how bland it is, how little it makes me want to go out and watch the band. Luckily, I know better now. (And lest people think I'm always bashing the magazine I used to work for, I will say that their recent Bamboo-covered issue was definitely a good one).

Aside from the outstanding music, it was great to see old friends. My cousin Carlos reminded me once again that I have yet to watch his new band, the Milagros Dancehall Collective. Joey D. gave me a mini-review of the movie he had just seen, Land of the Dead (so bad it's good, in a nutshell). Gracie enumerated the people from her batch in Ateneo who've ended up in the band scene. Margie kissed a complete stranger to bag her second Ninja Kiss T-shirt. And so on. Hitched a ride out with M., and had a Jollibee longganisa meal at around half past 3 AM -- a good end to a good night's gig-going.

A Very Pretty 6-Minute Song

"I See You, You See Me"
by The Magic Numbers, from The Magic Numbers


I never wanted to love you, but that's okay
I always knew that you'd leave me anyway
But darling when I see you, you see me
I asked the boys if they'd let me go out and play
They always said that you'd hurt me anyway
But darling when I see you, I see me

And it's alright
I never thought I'd fall in love again
It's alright
I look to you as my only friend
It's alright
I never thought that I could feel there's something
Rising, rising in my veins
Looks like it's happened again

I never thought that you wanted for me to stay
So I left you with the girls that came your way
And darling when I see you I see me

I often thought that you'd be better off left alone
Well throw a circle round and ... with broken bones
But darling when I see you, I see me

It's alright
I never thought I'd fall in love again
It's alright
I look to you as my only friend
It's alright
I never thought that I could feel there's something
Rising, rising in my veins
Looks like it's happened again

You always looked like you had something else on your mind
When I try to tell you, you tell me "never mind"
But darling, when I see you, you see me

I wanna tell you that I never loved anyone else
You wanna tell me that you're better off by yourself
But darling when I see you, you see me

Oooh, oo-oo-oooh...
This is not what I'm like, this is not what I do
This is not what I'm like, I think I'm falling for you

This is not what I'm like, this is not what I do
This is not what I'm like, I think I'm falling for you
(repeat)

I never thought
This is not what I'm like, this is not what I do
I never thought
This is not what I'm like, I think I'm falling for you
(repeat)

I never thought that I could feel there's something
Rising, rising in my veins
And it looks like I feel there's something
Rising, rising in my veins
Looks like it's happened again

Isn't It Ironic?

Last week, in my En210: Language and Literature class, one of my classmates reported on Verbal Irony. Today, Luis and I Spoke briefly about self-aware superheroes. Hey! That's a non sequitur! you might say, hoping to impress us with your knowledge of Latin expressions. Well, we're not impressed, particularly because you would be wrong in thinking that the two sentences aren't related to one another.

Behold, The Hero Santon, my favorite self-aware superhero ever, from the self-titled but woefully short-lived comic strip on Salon, taking on Irony. (How does this relate to music? Because the cartoonist was listening to Pavement while he drew this strip. And also because of Alanis Morissette, of course.)

Click the image for a larger, perhaps easier-to-read (but not any less ironic) version. Click here for The Hero Santon archives.

The Rain, Darkness, and DVDs

So it's been raining nonstop here since yesterday, and I'm thinking, screw work. If floodwaters are rising outside my very doorstep, it's probably a lot worse over in farflung Padre Faura, and I'd rather not risk getting drowned, or stranded, or eaten alive by other stranded people driven to cannibalism by hunger and desperation. Admittedly, the last scenario is somewhat fanciful, given that I work near several decent Italian restaurants. But you just know that when the calzones are gone and all the carbonara is used up, my fellow strandees are going to look at me and think, hmm, that's enough meat to sustain us for a good number of days... So I'm staying home, and working on an overdue freelance writing gig -- a gig which, by the way, I would have finished last night, if the power hadn't gone out.

Strange to think that blackouts used to be such a regular thing in our lives. When I was a child, we always used to have a stash of board games and candles ready, but we didn't even have to use the candles much: when the power went out, my father would hook up a flourescent light to a car battery and give us decent illumination for however long the darkness lasted. Last night, I was alone and sitting in the sala when everything went black. Immediately I remembered every Japanese horror movie I had ever seen, and sat there quietly going insane for a few minutes before stumbling around and somehow finding a box of matches. Every time I lit one, though, the howling wind would blow it out, as if I were starring in some black comedy routine that would eventually end in my evisceration. Even when I managed to get a candle lit, it didn't help so much -- I imagined crouching, skin-flayed fiends in every corner a shadow danced. Yay.

And speaking of music, which I wasn't, Yvette and I bought a bunch of music DVDs recently -- a live performance by the Pixies from last year, a couple of Joni Mitchell docus, and Tears for Fears' Scenes from the Big Chair, all great stuff. Also, a collection of Sonic Youth videos and a set of performances from The Old Grey Whistle Test, but I haven't gotten around to those yet.

More than ten years after they broke up, the re-formed Pixies are still amazing -- all visibly older, of course (except for Joey Santiago -- yay ageless Asian genes), but still able to floor an audience with a tight, heartfelt performance. Kim Deal looks so cute and happy. Frank Black looks so fat and sweaty. All together, they, undeniably, rock. I wanna grow up to be, be a debaser! (Debaser).

Joni Mitchell rocks too, in a completely different way. She rocks because she's so smart and articulate and brave and artistically uncompromising, and watching her early life unfold on that biographical DVD almost made me want to cry, for all the hardship and tragedy she endured as a young woman. I'll never listen to "Little Green" the same way again.

As for Tears for Fears -- the DVD contained a docu from the 80s and a concert from the Seeds of Love era, which was late 80s/early 90s, and it was interesting to compare their live performances from the time of Big Chair, when they were still years away from breaking up, to the later stuff, when Roland Orzabal and Curt Smith never nod smilingly at each other or even, apparently, make eye contact, through the course of an entire concert. Also, funny how you can watch the whole docu and never quite figure out what Curt Smith contributes to the band -- Roland is obviously the main songwriter, and the more powerful singer -- but as any fan knows, the past decade or so seems to have proven that they're kind of useless without each other. Together, they had a certain chemistry, and watching the docu reminded me how much I like so much of their output. Made me want to listen to my copy of their recent reunion album, Everybody Loves a Happy Ending, again -- maybe I missed something.

And now, back to work. Not work work, but myother work -- well, you know what I mean.

PS. The new installment of my column, The King of Nothing To Do, should be out in today's Manila Bulletin. I know, it's usually Wednesdays, but they're still retooling the 'i' section, I think.

PPS. Happy birthday, Kitchie! :)

Convergence/Divergence

This may not have anything to do with music, but it looks like a good exhibit (hi, Tita Pep!), and besides, I know that many of you are tired of having Karl Roy's leer be the first thing you see whenever you visit this blog. ;) From the press release:

Convergence-Divergence
Recent works by Pep Manalang and Datu Arellano
September 13 to October 1, 2005

Pep Manalang and Datu Arellano merge their contrasting styles in their first exhibit together, titled Convergence-Divergence. Featuring their recent works in mixed media and in acrylic and modeling paste on canvas, respectively, the exhibit is on view at the West Gallery in West Avenue, Quezon City from September 13 to October 1.

Pep Manalang, who has been exploring textural possibilities in her abstract works, thinks it is quite interesting to do a show with someone whose style is so different from hers. She also likes the idea of collaborating with a younger artist, one whose point of view is different as a result of varying backgrounds and influences. She loves working spontaneously, and even finds that the act of painting itself can be so emotionally charged, especially when she just lets the elements fall into place. "I try not to think [so much during the process]," notes Manalang. "I want to try something different, see how paint settles, and then find a structure or framework to hold the paint."

Datu Arellano, for his part, draws his ideas from cluttered university bulletin boards. He collects as many magazine cutouts and book pages as he can, and composes them into a 'chaotic' collage, sometimes even adding his own drawings. Then he leaves the collage for a while until he decides on which elements to leave as they are, keeping only a few of them visible. He challenges himself even more by working on Pep Manalang’s unfinished pieces. Manalang has done the same to Arellano’s collages, resulting in a total of six collaborative works. "At the end you get something more interesting," observes Arellano, upon seeing what Manalang has done to his unfinished collages. "One similarity we have is that we both give importance to the process."

West Gallery, now part of the new Mary Santos Artcade, is at #48 West Avenue, Quezon City. For inquiries, call 411-0336.

West Gallery's website: www.westgallery.org
Datu's website: www.datuarellano.com
Pep's website: www.geocities.com/artlife98

Pilipinas Pix; or, Why is Karl Roy Grinning?

We weren't able to take any pictures of the chaos backstage (or onstage, for that matter) at MTV Pilipinas. Luckily, there are some great ones over at Niña's LJ. :) Those looking for pictures of Juliana Palermo and Francine Prieto backstage, however, should contact the Furball people.

Wencing Cornejo; or, More Fun at MTV Pilipinas

Got a good laugh out of this entry over at Quark's LJ.

- HALE AND artofvalidation's all-time faves CUESHE PERFORMED ONSTAGE TOGETHER! holy moley! i almost wet my pants! and KC introduced their set by giving a definition of Pogi Rock. whoever wrote the show's script is a genius. does anyone have a pic of what Cueshe was wearing that night? brilliant! 'truly madly crazily' guy was wearing a trenchcoat and 'if you stay i'll understand' guy had A PIN ON HIS CROTCH. to quote GVSB, "amazing! sensational!"

- and then to cap it all off they both do a rendition of Pogi Rock Legend AFTERIMAGE's "we are next in line" and Champ was actually hanging his head in shame (i swear i have never seen him so wistful). the poor guy was wencing while playing the chords (wencing... get it? wency cornejo? no? fuck you.)

- Mitch said he saw Cueshe backstage and asked them if they were ok. and they said (well, according to Mitch) "siguro inaapi kami dahil mga Jeepney driver lang kami" whaat? are they inventing this whole 'jeepney driver' background to make people guilty about hating them?

BWAHAHAHA!!! :D In other news, apparently "SCREAMING ROOM is proud to present "Good Stuff"... a retrospective of music videos, short films, TV clips and other oddities by the recently awarded MTV VMA Best Director R.A. Rivera. Mag:Net Katipunan, Monday August 29 at 9pm. only 50 bucks to get in, and that's consumable." That's tonight!

Kristine and Luis are God

...well, okay, not really. But it was fun to be able to bend a stadium full of people to your will. Make fun of yourselves, Borgy and Georgina! Flirt with the Philippine Boxing Team, Phoemela! Dance for me, VJs! Make stupid jokes, hosts!

I remember sitting in the audience at the VJ Hunt, Luis, and you coming over once in a while to visit. I peeked at your script and was amazed to see how the words you wrote would actually come out (in slightly mangled form) of people's mouths onstage. Imagine--being able to get Sarah Meier to say a whole line about Wittgenstein.

Fortunately, I was able to share this power with you this year at the boxing-themed P ilipinas Awards. We were able to sneak in at least one Monty Python tribute (the other got cut), and got KC and Epy to poke fun at their receding hairlines. "If I've got a forehead, you've got a five-head! Or even a six-head!" I went to bed, about twenty minutes away from having my head explode from lack of sleep, still chuckling about the funniest parts of the awards script--which of course, never made it onstage. Why? Well, for common human decency, for one thing:

"For creating an entire career's worth of pop songs that stays in the heart of every Filipino; for his energy; for his integrity; for being an inspiration for us all, we present Mr. Gary V alenciano with...a cure for his diabetes! Just kidding. There's no cure for diabetes. We just have an award.

And speaking of diabetes, here to perform in a special tribute number for Gary--Sugarfree!"

We're kidding, of course. But you knew that, didn't you, discerning readers of this blog? The biggest frustration of the whole thing was having the cleavage-baring marketing team take a hatchet to our original script and fill it up with such helpful comments as "We're not sure what 'face-melting'means"[1] or "****WHY ARE WE WASTING TIME ON SUCH THINGS AS TOILET TRAINING AND FAKE MTV CERTIFICATES? THIS IS AN AWARDS SHOW, GODDAMMIT!!!!! LET'S FOCUS ON THE AWARDS!!!!"[2] and [3], (Come to think of it, it wasn't phrased like that. The original was much nastier, and had a few mistakes in grammar and spelling.)

I knew that we were going to have to compromise to make way for MTV marketing's wishes, of course, but I think things would have been much more pleasant had they just stuck to their jobs and left us to ours. Tell us what you want to achieve, and we'll do the writing for you, kiddies. That's why you hired us. When you try to rewrite entire parts of the script for us, the director just sends it back and tells us to put in the original. Look at all that wasted computer time and printer ink. Tsk-tsk.

Other than that, it was a great experience. It was wonderful to work with a talented professional like Kokoy Jimenez and his staff, and be able to sit backstage and see the entire crazy carnival before it goes and puts its makeup on. It was absolutely mindbending to see Champ of Hale conferring with Pepe Smith ("Tell me, Pepe, how do I get rid of my good looks and end up looking like a dessicated corpse like you to earn respect in this industry?"), or Francis Reyes standing straddle over Marc Abaya lying prone on the ground, or Radioactive Sago Project's brass section playing sexy-comedy music when Francine Prieto and Juliana Palermo walked by. Onstage, more presentors surprised us pleasantly than those who disappointed us. Hats off, in particular, to Phoemela Barranda for talking the entire national boxing team into doffing their shirts and training jackets; to The Late Isabel, for injecting so much sincerity into their presentation that what I feared would be an overly serious portion of the script became touching and memorable; to Parokya ni Edgar, for being able to pull it together despite being (as far as I could tell) very, very drunk.

On a more personal note, Lourd de Veyra came over to apologize for a little email tiff we had years ago (already forgotten, but it was classy of him to apologize anyway), Kitchie Nadal expressed surprise that I wasn't taller and more-evil looking than she envisioned, and Lizza N and Rico Blancoldplay exchanged a few words with me before they remembered that they hated me. In all, a good night.

Of course, like any great god-like power, it was not without its share of responsibilities and frustrations, but on the whole it was at least very interesting, if not 100% percent fun. Would I do that again? Hell, yeah. But only if you were there, too, Luis! YAY!

---

[1] A well-known term applied to really good rock guitarists, unknown only to people who don't know anything about rock. For example, the marketing people at M T V.

[2] Part of the beginning spiel, with a tiny bit stolen from Monty Python's "Fish License" skit. Apparently not funny, since, you know, what the hell do Monty Python know about funny?

[3]"Okay," I said, ever helpfully. "What do you want me to write in about the awards?"
Replied marketing woman, "That it's the coolest, hippest, biggest."
"Hm. How about something quantifiable? Do we give out the most number of awards? Is this the oldest awards show? Broadest?"
"Just write, 'coolest, hippest, biggest.'"

and the follow-up:

"We're the only awards show to honor music videos. Focus on that."
"I've been requesting a copy of the nominees reel. Can we have that? So we can write in a bit about the nominees?"
"That won't be necessary."

YAY! My brain hurts.

"Knockout Ito!"

"Joey "Pepe" Smith, Ely Buendia, Francis Reyes, Karl Roy, Nino Avenido, Mike Elgar, Wendell Garcia and Marc Abaya all jamming together on "Tao". HOLY CRAP." -- from a text message I sent to Yvette and some other people

Has it been over a year already? As I write this, the latest installment of the MTV Pilipinas Awards has just ended -- well, give or take a handful of hours -- and I'm tired but still sort of buzzed, and happy that it's all over and that things went smoothly for the most part. I had almost forgotten the excitement and frustration and exasperation and satisfaction that all comes with working on a big event. I really didn't feel that I was up to doing Pilipinas again this year, what with my gotta-wake-up-at-5:30 AM full-time job at the Supreme Court, but thanks for deciding to take the scriptwriting gig, Kristine, and for insisting that we do it together. :) Writing and rewriting spiels and speeches at the last minute and zipping around like a wind-up toy gone berserk would have been a lot less fun without you.

Will blog more about this night later. For now, the nominees, and the winners:

PEOPLE’S CHOICE AWARDS

FAVORITE NEW ARTIST
1. Hale - Broken Sonnet
2. Juan Pablo Dream - Nice Place
3. Kitchie Nadal - Huwag na Huwag Mong Sasabihin
4. Kjwan - Daliri
5. Urbandub - A New Tattoo

Who I thought should win: Kitchie Nadal
Who actually won: Hale

Had the Pilipinas awards been held a couple of months earlier, Kitchie would have ruled this category, no contest. But the pop-rock princess* has been overtaken, at least in this instance, by the relatively recent rise of Hale, a band whose popularity has the power to transform the crowd of a place like, say, Saguijo, into a bunch of frenzied screaming kolehiyalas.

*Earlier, we were discussing when this label was first applied to Kitchie. I thought Bernie came up with it for her Ink article. Am I right, Bernie? :)

FAVORITE FEMALE ARTIST
1. Arnee - Araw Gabi
2. Kitchie Nadal - Huwag na Huwag Mong Sasabihin
3. Kyla - If the Feeling is Gone
4. Nina - I Don’t Want to Be Your Friend
5. Rachelle Ann Go - Love of My Life

Who I thought should win: Kitchie Nadal
Who actually won: Rachelle Ann Go

Man, I'm glad I didn't place any bets here. I seriously underestimated the voting power of Rachelle Ann Go fans. I mean, seriously. She would have been my last guess to win. Well, her or Arnee.

FAVORITE MALE ARTIST
1. Artstrong - Jazzy Monday
2. Christian Bautista - Hands to Heaven
3. Erik Santos - Pagbigyang Muli
4. Luke Mejares - 214
5. Paolo Santos - Coffee Cup

Who I thought should win: Artstrong
Who actually won: Christian Bautista

Artstrong didn't win anything tonight, which is a shame, but that's okay, since I'm sure there's no room on his shelf anymore what with all the Awit Awards he won last summer.

FAVORITE GROUP
1. Bamboo - Masaya
2. Radioactive Sago Project - Astro
3. Rivermaya - You’ll Be Safe Here
4. Session Road - Suntok sa Buwan
5. Sugarfree - Hari ng Sablay

Who I thought should win: Sugarfree
Who actually won: Rivermaya

Big cheers from the crowd for Bamboo and Rivermaya, but as they say, there can be only one. Wish it had been Sugarfree, though. ;p

FAVORITE SONG
1. Rivermaya - Balisong
2. Sugarfree - Hari ng Sablay
3. Kitchie Nadal - Huwag na Huwag Mong Sasabihin
4. Dice & K9 - Itsumo
5. Sandwich - Two Trick Pony

What I thought should win: "Hari ng Sablay" or "Huwag na Huwag Mong Sasabihin"
What actually won: "Balisong"

"That's my ringtone!" host Karylle said, as she went up the steps and onstage to deliver her next spiel. Rico Blanco trivia learned from the hosts: Rico is, apparently, starring in an upcoming movie. He was also, apparently, crowned Prom King at some prom Karylle attended.

JURY AWARDS

BEST INDIE VIDEO
1. Monsterbot - Epekto
2. Valley of Chrome - Forever Young
3. Orange and Lemons - Just Like a Splendid Love Song
4. Juan Pablo Dream - Nice Place
5. Drip - Song No. 9

Who I thought should win: Drip
Who actually won: Drip

Yes! I kind of like the Juan Pablo Dream video too (fun song, funny cameos), but I really like the Drip video. My only small complaint about the video (which I believe Waya echoed, once) is that we should see more of Beng and less of the female extras lounging around the sala. Still, great song, great video, and, hey! free recipe.

BEST DIRECTOR
1. Boom Dayupay - Artstrong’s Jazzy Monday
2. Diego Castillo - Cambio’s DV
3. Marie Jamora - Kjwan’s Daliri
4. Pedring Lopez - Rivermaya’s You’ll Be Safe Here
5. RA Rivera - Radioactive Sago Project’s Astro

Who I thought should win: RA Rivera
Who actually won: RA Rivera

The sad fact is, I have yet to see the DV video in its entirety, but I hear good things about it. Was impressed by Kjwan's video too, but the serial-killer angle was perhaps not as interesting as it could be (great shots of the band in action though). Astro with its quirky cinematic humor is enjoyed by most sentient beings, and deservedly so.

BEST VIDEO
1. Radioactive Sago Project - Astro
2. Kjwan - Daliri
3. Cambio - DV
4. Artstrong - Jazzy Monday
5. Rivermaya - You'll Be Safe Here

What I thought should win: "Astro"
What actually won: "Astro"

See above. Isn't it strange when whoever wins for Best Director doesn't win for Best Video as well? That didn't happen this year. Yay!

Wolfmann, fondly remembered

My only substantial meeting with Wilfrid Hernandez--known to the music scene as "Wolfmann"--was a comedic pool table faceoff for MTV Ink, but since then he'd never failed to wave me over at gigs and exchange a few words. Wolfmann was, as Bernie texted me while she was at the hospital visiting him, a "good good guy."

We're going to the wake later today, to pay our respects. I've also written in a short bit in the MTV Pilipinas Awards script (more on that later) to give his fellow indie musicians the opportunity to salute him. I hope they keep it in.

Wilfrid also shares a couple of close friends with K2, and she sort of knew him from high school, and so we'll pay a visit together. She's put off breaking the news to their mutual friends (although Luis helped take the task off her hands), not knowing what to say.

Keep it simple, I guess. This short tribute from Myrene Academia of Sandwich, posted on their band's mailing list, is so touching and poignant because it's so simple and therefore so true. It's a good goodbye.

I want to start off by thanking everyone who came out to the Folk Arts Theatre to see Rockestra. Hope you were as thrilled as we were to be playing with the MSO on such a historic stage. we could feel so much love from the crowd. It was unforgettable and it was special. Thank you.

It's even more meaningful now that it was the last show that Wolfmann saw. It makes me smile to remember how pleased he was as he greeted each and every one of us as we came out of the theatre. we all take some comfort in the fact that we had the chance to share that with him, and that he was celebrating with us before things took that fateful turn.

What do i remember most about Wolfmann? That he loved music, and he was a generous friend. He was my Gameboy buddy. He was a member of Subsandwich--he played guitar for us once for a gig in Bulacan. He made fantastic remixes of our songs. He never turned down a chance to jam and he could play any song you can think of. And he would go to the ends of the earth to come out to see you play.

This weekend has been a rollercoaster of emotions for Sandwich, and all of our friends. I've been trying to write this post for the past couple of days but it's hard to get it down. It's a little difficult to express how in one minute you're heart is soaring and then in the next it's breaking. And after that your world as you know it is changed.

I will miss you Wilfrid. We all will. Rock on Wolfmann.

Bye, Wolfmann! I'll enjoy the thought of you in the Great Gig in the Sky, remixing the Buddha's original compositions and urging Jesus to come to your next gig. Save me a seat.

Orchestral Manoeuvres

M. on Rockestra:

Last night may have been the most musically moving experience of my life, which is saying quite a bit. This means that last night surpassed the Sting concert, which I watched standing on a rickety rattan chair, eight months pregnant and having contractions from the sound of the bass. Last night was more bittersweet and more poignant than watching Radiohead perform in a tent in Wales, with a husband who it turns out would leave me in a few weeks’ time. Last night, emotions surged and churned within me and I realized fully what inadequate forms of expression applause and screams and laughter and tears are.

(Read the full entry here).

Abusing Google, Part One: Stylistics

Betcha By Golly Wow:
The Stylistics as a Semiautonomous Discipline Beyond Normative and Prescriptive Descriptions of Styles and Towards an Analysis of Language

Treatises devoted to the study of style can be found as early as Demetrius's On Style (C.E. 100). The Stylistics, however, were formed in 1968, from the fragments of two Philadelphia groups, the Monarchs and the Percussions. At their peak, the Stylistics were perhaps the most consistent hitmakers in Soul Music: while most pre-twentieth-century discussions of style appear as secondary components of rhetorical and grammatical analyses or in general studies of literature and literary language, the Stylistics definitely staked out their own musical territory, largely due to the fact that they had the best producer in the business in Thom Bell, some of the most infectious material of the early 70s, and perhaps the smoothest falsetto lead vocalist in Russell Thompkins, Jr.

The appearance of the Stylistics as a semiautonomous discipline is a modern phenomenon, an ongoing development in linguistic description that is closely tied to the similar rise of literary criticism and linguistics as academic subjects and departments, as well as the American public's need for some sweet, sweet Soul music. The Stylistics first achieved some regional attention in 1971 with the simplistic “You’re A Big Girl Now,” most notable for its contrast to the luscious work they would record a year later with Bell. Whatever the limits of previous approaches to style, or the difficulties that have arisen from the practical application of linguistic methods to stylistic analysis, the desire to begin with a set of well-defined terms and procedures lies at the core of the initial formation of Stylistics as a discipline, not to mention a set of individuals possessed of sufficient talent and experience to deliver the goods to an eager listening public.

Their Avco Records eponymous debut was a masterpiece, containing marvelous compositions by Bell and co-writer Linda Creed that would become soul standards covered by other artists for the next 30 years. “You Are Everything,” “Betcha By Golly Wow,” “Stop Look Listen” and “People Make the World Go Round” all rocketed up the Pop and Soul charts, and immediately made the Stylistics the most sought after Soul balladeers. The group’s seamless harmonies and Thompkins' silky falsetto blended magically with Bell’s lush production. Such work in Stylistics reflected a larger trend occurring within literary criticism as a whole during this period: Riffaterre's particular interest in a systematic, formal description of literary style mirrored a growing awareness among literary critics in general of the possibilities provided to literary study by trends and theories available from formal linguistic study, as well as the infectious Philly Soul sound.

Material for this nonexistent term paper was stolen from here, here and here.

The King of Nothing to Do #8

Yes, it's time once again for my twice-monthly column to come out in today's Manila Bulletin! (Assuming you're reading this on Wednesday, August 17). What happened to #6 and #7, some of you may ask? Well, my full-time job happened, is my reply. While those installments did come out in the paper, I didn't have the time to blog about them. :p Anyway, #6 was basically a reworked version of my "Imaginary Indie Awards" post, and #7 was about "the internets" and how it's changed our lives without our really noticing it. For reals!

The more observant amongst you may wonder why my column is coming out on the 3rd Wednesday of August, since it's usually scheduled for the 2nd and 4th Wednesdays of any given month. All I can say is, life can be confusing sometimes. And so we just shrug, saunter down to the newsstand, buy the Bulletin, turn to the "i" section, read my column, and trust that the old schedule will be reinstated next month. Today's theme is, oddly enough, Men's Fashion, and the title of today's column is "Fa-fa-fa-fa-fashion; or, The Cartoon Bear Wears No Pants".

You know how in cartoons or comic strips, everyone always has the same outfit, day in and day out? I mean, Charlie Brown always rocks his jagged-stripe T, Bab of Pugad Baboy always has his amusingly outdated peace-symbol necklace and sleeveless thingie ensemble, and Winnie-the-Pooh has no pants. There was a time I wished that was the norm: not the pantslessness, but the idea that each of us could somehow determine a single outfit that best represented us, and wear just that, perhaps with minor variations in color or cut, day in and day out. No more fuss or bother or fashion faux pas: just the everyday paradox of an individualized uniform.

I was not alone in harboring this notion: in fact, a couple of people I know took it further, into actual practice. J., a college friend of mine, had a closet full of plain navy blue T-shirts. He claimed that every morning, he would just reach in, pull one out, and pull it on: no thought, no worry. He could then free up his mind for other, more important stuff, like trying to guess winning Lotto numbers or fooling girls into going out with him.

Yay Comics!

1. Sir, step away from your nut sack
2. I drink because I'm too scared to kill myself by traditional means
3. The gang was so close back then
4. OMG I [HEART] SURPRISES
5. Is it truly as erotic as advertised?
6. You ain't got to imitate Jack White
7. Don't make me count to three!
8. Someone owes science an apology

Faded Bowie

Here's a sad panel from Peter Milligan's Shade, the Changing Man #50. May this, or something similar, never happen to any of you, or to me, for that matter.

Songs to Make You Smile

Maybe their stuff is too fluffy and sugary-sweet to hold up under repeated listens, but somehow I couldn't suppress a smile while listening to The Simple Carnival's show tune-like "Super Robot Toy". (Those who are put in mind of childhood Transformers yearnings will be gratified by the squelchy Transform-ing sounds about 01:22 minutes in).

More musical goodness with the jangly-guitared harmony-happy Magic Numbers, and the driving poptastic rock of The Deathray Davies (scroll down for the link to their song "Plan to Stay Awake"). Yay!

Musical Games with Neil and Clive

Here's something fun from a Clive Barker interview by Neil Gaiman (from the anthology Shadows in Eden: a most informative, entertaining, and gleefully twisted volume -- thanks to Anna E. for helping me make my mind up about buying it, lo those many years ago):

BARKER: I have a game I play with dear friends. It's a great game, you need to be slightly drunk to play it. All you say is, "Do you trust me enough to tell me the truth?" and they say, "Yes" and you say, "I want you to play for me (you're in this other person's house) the song, or the three songs, that you only play when no one else is in the house; the three songs you are so ashamed of liking or being moved by that you have to be in a state of inebriation to offer up the truth to the rest of us playing here." It's a very telling game. It's a great game and great way to cut to the chase as far as emotional responses are concerned. You find people will suddenly admit to liking John Denver or something wholly outlandish...

[A lengthy digression by interviewer and interviewee concerning such musicals as It's A Bird, It's A Plane, It's Superman!, Paint Your Wagon, Camelot, South Pacific, and Guys and Dolls has been deleted here in the interests of street credibility.]

Reading about this game, I realized that even someone with a well-documented love of the Pet Shop Boys' oeuvre (i.e., me) still has music-listening secrets to hide. ;p

Half past two and it's raining and lovely outside. Have to get up in a couple of hours but who cares; not as if my new job requires me to be quick-witted or even fully conscious. Listening to a Nina Simone remix and enjoying the moment.

Luis is Reading

Been reading through local music news bits. Some random thoughts:

1. Rockestra could very well turn out to be an amazing show, or, conceivably, the musical equivalent of the Hindenburg disaster. In either case, it'll be a gig to remember. I, for one, want to be there. Who's with me?

2. Following the departure of hypno-guitarist Jerome Velasco (not to be confused with the Hypno-Hustler, from Spectacular Spider-Man #24), The Mongols have renamed themselves Pupil. While there are certainly worse names for a band* than "Pupil," I would have to say that "The Mongols" is not one of them.

*For example, Hoobastank. Or Fulflej. Or Penis DeMilo. Or Shitty Shitty Band Band. No, wait. Shitty Shitty Band Band actually sounds like an act I'd like to see.

3. Am looking forward to the release of Parokya ni Edgar's newest album, even if "First Day Funk" makes me want to take a claw hammer to my skull whenever I hear it. After all, Bigotilyo was a lot of fun, arguably even brilliant, so maybe the PnE peeps made their deodorant-shilling single irritating on purpose: as a way of making a point, perhaps, as a comment on the whole idea of selling out. Maybe.

On a somewhat related note, thanks, Kristine, for pointing out that a photocopying shop near my house is named "Pakopya ni Edgar". He he.

4. Somebody please explain 'soul siren' Nina's chart domination to me. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against the woman, and I think she's a good performer, and is probably kind to children and kittens and all that. But why does she outsell everyone from fresh-faced pogi rock bands to novelty popsters to a legion of other sirens who also possess a tragic tendency to cover jeepney classic love songs? Am reminded of that scene in the movie "Revenge of the Nerds" where the nerds run a pie-selling booth that enjoys phenomenal sales despite the fact that their product is basically just a mass of whipped cream, because underneath the cream is a photo of a hot topless woman. Not that I'm comparing Nina's music to whipped cream, or implying that lifting her CD from its jewel case tray reveals a picture of her topless. No, it's probably just free LSD tabs tucked into the inlay card.

5. The first time I watched Mojofly's retro new (retro new -- whatta concept) video, I had no idea that people actually did have drag races in front of the Greenhills Shopping Center back in the 80s; I thought it was some odd James Dean movie tribute. Of course, in those days, I was more concerned with Chrishareth's and Filbar's than flashy clothes and fast cars. (The most embarrasing thing about the previous sentence -- which, by the way, still holds true today -- is that I'm secretly proud that it sort of rhymes).

Funny thing is, I don't think I've ever seen the new Mojofly live, but Adam and I did get to watch vocalist Lougee Basabas two years ago at Mayric's, when she was performing with her old band Superlooge. If I remember correctly, our assessment of her then was: not quite there yet, but not bad. Also, cute.

And now, time to sleep.

Before I get back to the business of blogging...

...first, a commercial break. More CDs to clear from my shelves (having cleared out the last of my stuff from my former table over at Pulp/MTV Ink, now also known as Wolfram & Hart). Real blogging to follow soon.


ALL ORIGINAL, ALMOST-NEW CDs P150 – P200

12 GIRLS BAND, Romantic Energy (Pop-Classical, Traditional Chinese) P150

THE BARBS, Lupine Peroxide (punk) P150

BATTERY, Battery (Hard Rock, Hard-to-find) P150

BOY2, Biyaheng Reggae (Reggae, OPM) P100

BILLY CRAWFORD, Ride (Hip-hop) P150

CHICOSCI, Icarus (Rock OPM) P150

FEEDER, Pushing the Senses (Britpop) P150

GHOST 13, Ghost 13 (Rap OPM) P100

HEFNER, The Fidelity Wars (Indiepop, Hard-to-find) P200

JA RULE, R.U.L.E., (Rap) P150

JESSE MCCARTNEY, Beautiful Soul (Pop) P150

JOHN LEGEND, Get Lifted (R&B) P150

LILLIX, Falling Uphill (Rock) P150

MATILDA, Matilda (Alt Rock OPM) P150

MUDVAYNE, VCD: Video clips, “Dig” Video, Live at The House of Blues (Rock) P100

NEWFOUND GLORY, Catalyst (Pop Punk) P150

NINA, Live! (R&B, Pop OPM) P150

PEPE SMITH, Idiosyncrasies (Rock OPM) P150

SIX O FOUR, Bringin’ It (R&B, Pop OPM) P100

SKRAPE, New Killer America (Nu-Metal, Hard-to-find) P150

VELVET REVOLVER, Contraband (Rock) P150

COMPILATION ALBUMS

ACOUSTIC BREAK compilation album, with Mute Madness, Migs, Jaycie & Honey, Mac, Project Fusion (OPM Acoustic) P100

THE CHILLOUT PROJECT House Sessions (chillout, electronica), P150

GRAMMY NOMINEES 2005, songs by Black Eyed Peas, Maroon 5, Evanescence, Norah Jones & Ray Charles, U2, Seal, Alicia Keys, etc. P150

NEW (STILL SEALED)

EVERLAST, White Trash Beautiful (Rock) P200

HALE, Hale (Alt Rock OPM) P200

FAITH EVANS, The First Lady (Pop) P200

FILTER, The Amalgamut (Hard Rock) P200

GHOST 13, Ghost 13 (Rap OPM) P150

ROK ON: MUSIC INSPIRED BY RAGNAROK ONLINE, with Moonstar 88, Kamikazee, Kjwan SVC, Typecast, 7 Shots; includes installer disc for Ragnarok: A tale of two cities P100

NU 107 SUPERSIZE ROCK compilation album, featuring Kjwan, Kitchie Nadal, Rivermaya, Orange and Lemons, Urbandub, Sandwich, etc. (Alt Rock OPM) P200

SIMPLE PLAN, Still Not Getting Any… (Pop Punk), P200

SLAPSHOCK, Novena (Rock OPM) P200

SPAN, Mass Distraction (Hard Rock) P200

VIENNA TENG, Waking Hour (Pop, singer-songwriter, piano) P200

P25-P50, OR FREE FOR EVERY THREE CDs PURCHASED

AIKEE, Ang Bawat Bata (Rap OPM), P50
BLUE, True Blue Quiz installer CD (computer game), P25
GENERATED X-ED, Protest and Survive (Rock/ Electronica)
SPIRITUALIZED, Pure Phase (Rock/ Electronica)
SQUEEZERS, Scramble (OPM, demo) P25
VELVET, Velvet (OPM, demo) P25
WILLIAM HUNG, Inspiration (w/VCD), P50

ALPHA MUSIC SAMPLER 2005 Vol 1, with Bayani Agbayani, Session Road, Najah, Aikee, Mac, Project Fusion, Ronald Navarro, Pseudo Echo, P25
ALPHA MUSIC SAMPLER 2005 Vol 2, with Pepe Smith, Baywalk Bodies, Session Road, Acension, Retrospect, Migs, Jaycie and Honey, P25
ALPHA MUSIC SAMPLER 2005 Vol. 3, with Session Road, Jhego, Selina Sevilla, Aikee, Baywalk Bodies, Pepe Smith, Mac, Retrospect, P25
MULAWIN: Songs Inspired By Mulawin, with South Border, Jolina Magdangal, Lani Misalucha, Jennelyn Mercado, Dingdong Avanzado, Janno Gibbs, Tux, Sipol

Jingle Bells! Jingle Bells!

Have been asked to write an article on the influential, now-defunct local music magazine known as Jingle. Way before PULP and Philmusic, Jingle was warping the minds of a generation, steering them away from the pitfalls of profitable careers in actuarial science and towards New Wave and punk and heavy metal and music writing and misheard lyrics. Like myself, many of you probably have fond memories of that publication.

The problem is this: I don't know who the editors of Jingle magazine were, much less how to contact them. Any help with this would be greatly appreciated.

Other Stories

"When oh when is your next book coming out?" That question, from a comment on my last post (hi Corinna!), is something I've asked myself a lot since the turn of the millennium. My first book was basically a gathering of the least embarrassing stories I had written since my teens, almost none of which were produced with an eye towards a possible future collection. The second one is taking a bit longer than I thought it would. Maybe I'm dreading the legendary sophomore slump that can strike writers, bands, directors, and basically anyone who ever made a fairly well-received anything. Of course, looking at it another way, I'm very happy to be in the position of dreading a sophomore slump at all.

I have a good idea what the second book will look like (see cover study, above), but the problem is coming up with more of the other stories referred to in the title. I do know that I want it out soon, perhaps even by the end of this year. While some works may be ruined by rushing them, the same result can come from lingering too long on something, revising and revising it until it's spoiled. Perhaps a Clive Barker-like writing frenzy will overtake me -- I remember reading somewhere that he wrote the Books of Blood in an astonishingly brief span of time. (I may be misremembering, though). Subterrania should be markedly different from Happy Endings -- otherwise, what's the point -- but exacly how different and in what ways is something I'm still figuring out. But anyway, thanks to Corinna and other friends (and some strangers, bless them) who have been interested enough to ask me the question that begins this post.

"I do have a specific way of writing, in that I put it off as long as I can and make it as difficult as possible for myself before my impending deadlines force me to overcome my self-loathing just enough to sit down and write something. Once I’ve started writing, though, I’m always surprised by how engaging it actually is." ~ from an interview with Allan Heinberg, writer for The O.C., Sex and the City, and Young Avengers

Happy Birthday to Me

For another hour and a half, at least, as I write this. Thanks to alla youse who texted or called with greetings! Special thanks of course to Yvette my love, who I was talking to as midnight came and went, and I turned a year older.

Couldn't sleep last night -- had a lot on my mind; too many changes going on it seems, what with the new job and the possibility of moving out of the house I've lived in for almost a decade -- and at around 4 AM I decided I wanted to listen to some music, to start the day off. But I was just tired enough to not want to have to choose it myself, so I set my Winamp player on random, loaded all my mp3s, and pressed Play.

Many of us like to read significance into the random, try to divine some meaning or guidance from a throw of dice, a spread of cards, or a book flipped open, a set of words jabbed at blindly. I thought: this will be my musical version of "Book Magic," as we used to call it back in high school. Somehow the first five songs Winamp chooses will contain some sort of message for me. So here they are, unchanged, uncensored: the First Five Random Songs Winamp Played On My Birthday, 2005, at 4:14 AM:

Nick Drake - Pink Moon
The Strokes - I Can't Win
Ciudad - How Did You Know?
PJ Harvey - This Mess We're In
R.E.M. - At My Most Beautiful

Since I silently promised myself that I would blog honestly about my Birthday Five, you don't know how relieved I am that nothing really embarrassing popped up out of my music files... Um, not that I own anything really embarrassing, having impeccable musical taste and all that. Yeah.

The fact that song titles like "I Can't Win" and "This Mess We're In" came out of the shuffle is kind of alarming, though I take comfort in the fact that I actually like those songs a lot. I've only recently started listening to Nick Drake, thanks to a CD from Indira, but "Pink Moon" sounds pretty good. Ciudad, of course, is always a hoot. And "At My Most Beautiful" is just beautiful; funny, as I celebrated another orbit (as Kidlat would put it) last year, I was listening to R.E.M. too, as I recall. I like to think that the five songs taken together can be said to possess an overall mood of guarded optimism, with the notes of dark anxiety being balanced by notes of happy romanticism. It's not a perfect or even a particularly bright world, these five songs seems to say, but what the hell, there's fun and even love to be had. (No Bowie or XTC in my Birthday Five, but still, not a bad way to start the day).

The Imaginary Indie Awards

The imaginary crowd gathers for the Imaginary Indie Awards! (Actually, a photo from the MTV Hits Cebu event)

First of all, welcome back, Kristine. :) Yay!

Last Saturday I was at La Salle, having been suckered -- I mean, persuaded -- by my sister to deliver a lecture on writing scripts for events and AVPs, to an org called the Green Media Group. They were a smart, fun bunch, and I'm not just saying that because they're young and net-savvy and will probably stumble across this blog someday while running searches on their own org name.

I was reluctant at first to lecture on scriptwriting because I always feel that the only subject I can talk about with any semblance of authority is fiction, but then I realized that in the past year alone I've written full scripts for at least three major live events (MTV Hits Cebu, Pilipinas '04, and the VJ Hunt), lots of bar tour and campus tour thingies, countless plugs and numerous AVPs, so what the hell. I like to think that I'm not the kind of teacher that can actually cause an audience to become more ignorant, as their brain cells commit mass suicide to escape the boredom -- so at the very least, I wasn't going to be doing any harm.

I kicked off with some footage from this year's MTV VJ Hunt, that being the only event I've written of which I actually have footage. While that was playing, I wrote down an outline of the usual stages an event script goes through: from the conceptualization to the working out of such details as hosts, performers, sponsors and presentors, to the writing of the sequence, and of course the researching and writing of the actual script. I also warned them about the many many things that can and do go wrong on the night of the actual event, such as absent performers or presentors, tantrums and tirades and last-minute changes backstage, and, um, wardrobe malfunctions. One event I wrote required a quick reassignment of lines because one of our lovely hosts couldn't go onstage for fear of suddenly flashing an audience of thousands.

Since the lecture was almost a whole-day affair, I had to do something interesting to fill up the hours, and so I proposed that they conceptualize and write an event of their very own -- I said, let's do an awards show, since it incorporates a lot of elements: performances, presentations, host banter, etcetera. So, I asked them, what are you guys interested in? Music, was the answer. I was pleasantly surprised by the Green Media Group's passion for local music acts, and their avowed support for independent efforts: and thus the imaginary GMG Indie Music Awards show was born.

We hammered out five categories, with five nominees each (we had to disqualify certain favorite acts like Pedicab and Sugarfree, as they couldn't be considered 'independent'), and came up with presentors for each category, as well as a set of four hosts, from their org's own 'hosting pool.' I separated the class into five groups of three (I had them count off by threes, until a sharp-witted student pointed out that they should be counting off by fives instead, to make five groups -- and me a former Math major!), assigned each group to write two segments, and at the end of it all, we had a run-through of the whole thing, with the hosts delivering the spiels and an announcer announcing the winners. The hosts were game and talented, and some of the spiels were quite well-written -- in short, it was a fun way to end the session. As I recall, the winners were:

Best Live Act : Brass Munkeys
Best Video: The Late Isabel
Best Student Act: The Bloomfields
Best Album: Imago
Best Act: Urbandub

Performances for the imaginary show included numbers by Narda, Bubble Band, and the Brass Munkeys. The SuperFoodBand -- composed of members of Sandwich, Mayonnaise, Cheese, and the Happy Meals -- started things off, and a world/hip-hop hybrid of SVC and Pinikpikan provided the finale. It was really great to see the students all excited about homegrown music: at one point, I overheard one of them reminding her enthusiastically-arguing groupmates that "Guys, it's not a real event." Be that as it may, it sounded like a show I would have very much liked to see.

This is What the World Looks Like On Sugarcoated Ecstasy Pills

"Winners" by 7 Seconds of Love. Which features the lyrics, "Who's winning?/ We're all winning!!" Winners. 7 Seconds of Love. And a video that stars a kitten.

Goddamn, this is the happiest fucking thing ever. I am not sorry at all to announce my return to the blogosphere with this craptastic entry and a link to the video. Woo-hoo!

The King of Nothing to Do #5 / Gaiman Hangover

"I don't remember ever having felt so loved by so many people." -- from Neil Gaiman's blog

I talked to Neil Gaiman. I gave him a copy of my book. "It means so much to me that I can give you this," I told him. "If not for your work, I probably wouldn't have survived my college years." He looked me in the eye and solemnly shook my hand. Am still quietly overwhelmed.

Neil Gaiman has been and gone, and I've spent the whole morning jumping from blog to blog, reading about other people's Gaiman experiences, friends and strangers alike. There's Gerry Alanguilan, who lined up for ten hours just like everyone else, despite the fact that he's a major comics artist and internationally respected and everything. There's Waya and Lala, whose entries I love because they're so emotionally upfront (and yet still funny and well-written). Quark found himself "overcome by this feeling of happiness." Therese has Neil to thank for "the most gratifying and humiliating moment" of her life. Gabby recalls how she first came across his work, and explains why she's a fan -- among other reasons, "Neil Gaiman taught me to write something I wanted to read, and not something my teachers wanted to read, or my friends wanted to read."

Thor admits that, like many of us, "There was also a time when I felt too cool to like Neil. Everybody else was suddenly deconstructing the Endless, some columnist began painting her face like Death, and I didn't want to be mistaken for jumping onto the bandwagon. It's just the way it is. When someting underground becomes mainstream, the purists who don't even pee in the shower ;-) start searching for the next big thing." But of course, in the end, we all come around -- "And fuck it. Fuck the coolness. Fuck the cliques. Fuck the exes who memorized lines. (Well, not really.) Mr. Gaiman wrote and continues to write great stories." Something Thor wrote about the Writers' Forum being like a reunion made me smile. Yvette and I ran into so many friends, so many writers and artists and musicians, and I just thought, if this were an actual reunion, what an incredibly fun, horrifyingly insane school we must have all come from. The College of Gaiman. Hey, I'd enroll.

All of us gaimanerds (to steal a term from Lala) are indebted to Charles, who transcribed the entire Writers' Forum talk, and Astrid, who recorded the radio interview. And finally, more links and thoughts on the whole thing at Click Mo Mukha Mo.

There are, of course, many many more Neilstruck blog entries out there, but if I linked to them all, I wouldn't have time to tell alla youse to go out and buy the Manila Bulletin, because "The King of Nothing to Do," my twice-monthly column, has another installment out today. An excerpt:

My friend Kristine Fonacier once asked me who my favorite interview subject was -- at the time, I was working with her on the staff of a music magazine, and I had interviewed such people as Justin Hawkins (the lead singer of The Darkness), a pre-solo fame Kitchie Nadal, and great bands like Narda, Sandwich, Sound and Parokya ni Edgar. All of them made for good, fondly-remembered interviews, and any of them would have made for a decent answer to Kristine’s question. After today, however, I think I have a clear winner. Rock stars are all very well and good, but Gaiman’s stories of lost souls and lovers, of devils and dream kings, filled with dark humor and quiet tendernesses and epic adventure, and charged with something that no reader should be too embarrassed to call magic, changed -- if not in some way saved -- my life.

Yes: I got to interview him! That undoubtedly ranks as one of the most memorable lunches I've ever had. It was somehow mind-blowingly surreal and utterly, wonderfully ordinary at the same time. By "ordinary" I just mean that he was so casual and friendly and laid-back and all-around nice that one could almost forget that one was sitting next to, well, Neil Gaiman: Neil Gaiman, creator of the amazing stories that got me through some of my darkest days, and Neil Gaiman, trying out adobo flakes and longganisa, and not being upset at all when the dalandan juice he ordered never arrived.

My column today is only partially about Gaiman, though; am still transcribing (and processing) that amazing hour of my life. But anyway, my editor tells me that the "i" section is going to be a Neil Gaiman Special today, so there should be lots for gaimanerds to read.

"But thanks again to you all. And yes, I do want to come back." -- from Neil Gaiman's blog, again

PS. Just got my copy of the Bulletin, now. The ENTIRE "i" section is devoted to Neil Gaiman! Interviews and columns and everythang. GET IT!

PPS. [Added July 14] I was going to post some crappy, fuzzy pix I took at NU on the morning of the radio interview, but you know what, these are much better. Thanks to Francis and Niña!

PPPS. [Added July 15] I love how Quark put it: no matter how everyone says "it's so hyped" and "my god there were so many posers yadda yadda yadda" it was just so exhilarating seeing people scream and cheer for someone whose contribution to the world is... words :)

Musik and Gaiman

Just caught the last half of this local music show on channel 5 called Islamusik. Not bad, not bad at all. Am not sure if they always focus on a particular genre*, but this episode was all about the hip-hop scene here: they interviewed a bunch of artists (DJ Arbie Won, SVC), showed some cool videos (Mista Blaze, Artstrong, DJ Arbie Won and the United Freestyles), featured one of the regular hip-hop venues (Club V), and basically did a pretty good job. It's scripted in a pleasant conversational Taglish that conveys info without being stilted or grating. Plus I have to admit that, even though her Penshoppe ads kind of irritate me, host Ala Paredes was very good: engaging without being annoying, casual without being pa-cool, and comfortable with the language.

Some bits, like their man-on-the-street interviews, could be improved (perhaps musicTrip could be done away with altogether, or at least revamped), and some of the cameos -- the Itchyworms? Random members of Sound? -- were puzzling, but admittedly amusing. And speaking of sound, the sound on some of the videos (particularly Artstrong's "Jazzy Monday") was muffled to the point of being unlistenable, but am not sure who's to blame for that. In any case, was happy with their choices of which videos to show; I've never even seen Mista Blaze or Arbie Won's stuff on MTV. They also exercised good judgment regarding which artists to interview (of course, I wish there had been a few more, but then again am sure they were constrained by time and budget). All in all, am looking forward to catching Islamusik again next Saturday at 6, should I happen to be home. Am wondering what they'll cover next (that's another thing: they should have a NEXT WEEK teaser). Channel 5 seems to promote its other Saturday shows more aggressively though, like the bizarrely titled Mr Fighting: Fight For Love, which seems to be a live-action showcase for fisticuffs, anime hair, and bad makeup, and some local music/variety show type of thing that has Tim Yap involved somehow -- tonight's episode features Kyla, Chynna Ortaleza and Mojofly; might check it out later out of curiousity.

Change of topic. So -- all you people who attended The Gathering at Rockwell today -- how did the Neil Gaiman lovefest go? :) Some people I've talked to about Gaiman's visit have found themselves less enthusiastic about it than they thought they would be, given their avowed fanhood, and the reason for that is that the thought of sharing him with hordes of other fans (as one wit put it, a "nerd frenzy") makes them go bleah. There's an element of interior cringing, of elitism, involved: "These people are Gaiman fans too? Jesus." I've felt this myself to some degree, but I'm not going to let it stop me from seeing one of my favorite authors in person, this Monday.

Aside from a distaste for the idea of an uncool local Gaiman horde, there's also the somewhat related trepidation of not wanting to disappoint him, as Waya and I talked about. We want him to be impressed, we want him to have a great stay, we want to read his blog entries afterwards about how great it was here. We want to ask really intelligent and insightful questions, even though we will all probably just devolve into gibbering hero-worship (or the equally annoying flipside: needless snotty impertinence). Anyway, will be checking fellow enthusiasts' blogs later for their accounts of the day.

*Just found their Multiply page: apparently they do.

Isha (and Mishka)

So I missed NINJA KISS 6, much to my regret. Blame a sleepless Friday night, and a hectic day shopping for my pamangkin Kaya's birthday, as well as attending, albeit briefly, said pamangkin's party. She is five, and will conquer the world (or at least the Philippines) in a decade or two, so it's best to be on her good side.

Anyway, check it out: ISHA's first solo gig at 70s Bistro is tonight, at 9:30 PM! Isha is, of course, the singing/songwriting, piano-playing, insanely talented (and, in many ways, just outright insane) former PULP Managing Editor, Peach Abubakar-Quebral. As she says:

"i'll be playing with the legendary simon tan on bass and the great jayvee torres on drums (the best ititch!). if you're into jazzed-up new wave, nina simone, bananarama, tori amos, joni mitchell and senti torch music you might enjoy the sets. plus i'll be debuting a few of my latest originals!"

Peach's special guest for the evening is MISHKA ADAMS -- caught the last part of Mishka's 2nd set at Mag:net Katipunan a couple of weekends ago, and despite talkative bastards, too many smokers, and too many people singing along (hey, wannabe vocalists -- we didn't squeeze our way in here to listen to you perform), it was well worth seeing.

70s Bistro is located along Anonas Road, Quezon City (tel # 4343597) -- just a trike ride away from where I live, yay.

Finally, listen to Wolfmann's remix of NIN's "Only." It's pretty cool, and in the running for this contest on myspace, so rate it and make W. happy.

The King of Nothing to Do #4

But it is, nameless rent-a-cop! IT IS. Time for this month's second installment of my Manila Bulletin column, to be exact. Remember, kiddies, it's every 2nd and 4th Wednesday of the month, in the Bulletin's 'i' section. This time around, I wrote about the recently-concluded Fête de la Musique:

Those of you fortunate enough to have owned -- or in my case, borrowed -- a hardbound series of books collectively known as Childcraft while growing up may recall a reassuring demonstration involving vampires and mathematics in one of the volumes. (Other readers may wonder what business the words "reassuring" and "mathematics" have being in the same sentence with each other). It goes something like this: say that a vampire needs to feed once every week, and that every time it bites someone’s neck, that person becomes a vampire too. So in two weeks you have two vampires, in three weeks you have four, and so on and so forth in rapid geometric progression, until by the time you hit a little over half a year you would have about 8 billion vampires populating the Earth.

And so, the demonstration reassures us, vampires cannot exist, because if they did, you and everyone else you know would be a vampire right now. What the authors of Childcraft may not have realized is that the idea that everyone one knows, including oneself, is quite possibly a vampire -- and in fact, is likely to be, as proven by mathematics -- is far more terrifying a concept than the idea that some lone vampire, vulnerable to crucifixes and garlic pizza, might be wandering around somewhere.

Which brings us in typical roundabout fashion to the annual Fête de la Musique, which I had the pleasure of attending last Saturday night at El Pueblo. As always, over a hundred bands performed for free on various stages, grouped loosely according to genre: Rock, Blues, Jazz, Hip-hop, Electronica, etcetera. Okay -- you may well ask -- what do vampires have to do with the Fête? Aside from the fact that almost everyone who attends seems to be dressed in black, the main reason the Fête reminded me of the Childcraft horror story is that the number of people seems to double every time, as if every attendee in a given year seems to make it a point to come back in the next, dragging another music afficionado along.

As always, check out the print version for the full column. I have yet to discover why the MB's online archives seem to have swallowed the previous three installments in Sarlacc Pit fashion. Perhaps they will be regurgitated sometime soon.

In other news: The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy opens in local theaters today! Go watch it! Unlike the last Star Wars movie, all the jokes are intentional. (And speaking of SW3, check out this abridged screenplay). And while waiting in line for your Hitchhiker's tickets, you can try writing an entire novel in six words. Funny how the John Updike example renders much of his actual written work superfluous.

Finally, if you're not in the mood for light, quirky spacefaring fare, you could watch this bit of cinematic anti-whimsy, as I did last night with my friends Kidlat, Ronnie and Tanya. We were originally supposed to watch Mr. and Mrs. Angelina Jolie, but we noticed the invitation-only Hotel Rwanda premiere being held in the theater right next to the ticket booth, and Kids used his manly charms to wangle us four free passes. I kid you not. Anyway, if you want to flinch and squirm as based-on-true-life hardships and atrocities are reenacted onscreen, Hotel Rwanda is the movie for you. It's sad, frightening, and, at times, all too close to home.

HBDB

Happy birthday, dear blog. Happy birthday, dear blog. Happy birthday, happy birthday, happy birthday dear blog!

Hard to believe that it's been exactly a year since we started this thing, Kristine. As I recall, it was originally supposed to be a lengthy article about our past and current listening habits, with a back-and-forth epistolary thing going -- kind of like a cross between At the Movies with David and Sarah and Nick Hornby's 31 Songs. (Incidentally, note how in that Observer article on 31 Songs, the ostensibly literate Alain de Botton completely disregards the instructions and lists an entire album instead of a single favorite song. Oh well, who can blame him: it's The Sundays, after all). Somehow that idea evolved into this ongoing, anything-goes, nonprofit thing. Which is fine, except for the nonprofit part.

Anyway, here's to our blog, and here's to music in all its forms, except the bad ones. As Fran Lebowitz wrote in Metropolitan Life, "There are two kinds of music -- good music and bad music. Good music is music that I want to hear. Bad music is music that I don't want to hear."

For more Lebowitz wit, by the way, there's a great interview here. Also, would like to wish a slightly belated happy birthday to Joelle and JB, music-lovers and excellent human beings both. :)

Batdance

So the other night I finally watched Star Wars: The Revenge of the Sith, and just last night, Yvette and I caught Batman Begins on the first day of its run here. One of these films had atrocious dialogue, plenty of bad acting, some cool fights and a lot of mostly wasted potential. The other film was Batman Begins. (Not that SW3 wasn't entertaining in its own right: as we discovered, a great way to pass time on a rainy car ride is to quote lines from the movie to each other. Hilarity, inevitably, ensues).

Four words will serve to sum up the new Bat-flick: Best Batman movie ever. While the utter craposity of the last one will forever remain a low point in the annals -- huh huh, I said annals -- of comics fanhood (damn you, Schumacher!!), this new one reinvents the Batman story from the ground up, with the use of a good, solid script, a whole roster of A-list actors, and of course, the talents of director Christopher Nolan, of Memento and Insomnia fame. "A rousing, reverent, often brilliant re-creation of a seminal comics character, Batman Begins proves Batman is at home in the 21st century as he was in the 20th," says Keith Phipps. "The movie works dramatically in addition to being an entertainment," says Roger Ebert. "Batman Begins is so fresh and feels so definitive that there might as well not have been any such creature as Batman ever before," says MaryAnn Johanson. "Hey, Katie Holmes' nipples are showing through her blouse," observed Yvette.

The basic concept of Batman remains, of course, insane. But hey, as Jay Pinkerton writes in Why Batman Works: "That's the simple beauty of Batman's enduring legacy. We don't identify with him. We don't laugh at him. Mostly we just marvel at him, I think. In most movies, the villains get to have all the fun, and the heroes tend to be fairly bland. Batman's one of the few characters I can think of who's as monumentally fucked up as the criminals he's chasing."

Christian Bale brings life and complexity (and, according to Fran, major hotness) to the role of Bruce Wayne. Michael Caine brings humor and warmth to the role of stalwart butler Alfred. Liam Neeson plays the mentor role again, but kicks even more ass as Ducard than as Qui-gon Jinn. And amidst all the pseudo-ninja training techniques and cool gadgetry and fight scenes, through the interplay of characters and circumstances and viewpoints, we gain a new appreciation for the Bat-story. Yay! Good stuff. Go watch.

More Adventurous

"Hey Jenny, weren't you in that crappy Fred Savage flick about video games?"
"Ha ha ha, yes I was! Go to hell."

Any asshole can open up a museum
Put all of the things he loves on display
so everyone could see them
The house, a car, a thoughtful wife
ordinary moments in his ordinary life

-- from "It's a Hit"

So I know this album came out almost a year ago, but hey, sometimes it takes me a while to get around to finding out about things, or appreciating things, or just plain doing things, as people who know me even in passing will attest. Anyway: Rilo Kiley. Really good stuff. Go to their official page and listen to "Portions For Foxes" ("I'm bad news, baby I'm bad news...") and "Does He Love You?" and be pleasantly diverted, perhaps even utterly smitten. Wonderfully catchy music, and great lyrics.

Get a real job
Keep the wind to your back
and the sun on your face
All the immediate unknowns are better
than knowing this tired and lonely fate.

-- from "Does He Love You?"

"Pure pop for grown-ups," as PopMatters describes it. Have downloaded a handful of songs from here and there, but would really like to get their albums. Here's hoping one or more of them were released locally.

The King of Nothing to Do #3

Yeah, it's that time of the month again, when I have to chain myself up in the basement before the Transformation overtakes me and I cannot be held responsible for the ensuing bloodshed. Either that, or it's time for my column to come out in the Manila Bulletin -- I get confused sometimes. On the stands now: The King of Nothing to Do, Episode 3! This time around, it's about geekhood. (No chickens were harmed in the writing of this column).

Discrimination goes both ways, though: music geeks, for example, usually hate it when obscure bands they love become popular, or even semi-popular. Tolkien fans will pull pained expressions and rethink their opinion of you as a human being if you tell them you only watched the movies and never read the books. God help you if you have the insane compulsion to pretend to be a geek about something you have only a passing interest in: real geeks can detect you a mile away. This is less a matter of geek snobbery than a matter of appreciation, though. In other words, if you’re a pretender, you won’t inspire real derision -- just pity.

Geekhood is not like a fraternity that requires an initiation, or a course that acts you to pass a test: in fact, if you’re making a special effort to learn facts and figures, you’re, well, faking it. The effort is barely noticed by the true geek, as are the expenses (because if a geek stopped to think about expenses, honestly, he or she would get a little depressed)—and the accumulated trivia is like a side-effect, a badge of that love Weiss wrote about: that "abiding, obsessive, self-effacing, even self-destroying love."

1-2-3 Times Two to the Mix!

Sometimes I miss mixtapes. I had a brief but prolific career making mixtapes in college (if you can call anything that doesn't actually make you any money a "career"), sometimes on request and sometimes out of the sheer need to impose my listening habits on unwary friends, and I enjoyed piecing together appropriate playlists and making little cassette covers (yay for Microsoft Publisher, the limited but idiot-proof layout program). Perversely, I think I even enjoyed calculating how much time was left on my 60 or 90 minute tape, and trying to fit stuff in right to the very end. (As a rule of thumb, one side of a 60 minute tape can accomodate 8 pop songs, and 12 can fit on one side of a 90-minuter).

All these tapes, whether compilations of avant-punk or classic rock standards, have a common purpose: to communicate an emotion or idea -- to a new friend, a potential lover, or even to oneself. The mix tape, Moore says, is "sort of a safe-sex thing: It's sharing music instead of sharing germs." The romance comes not only from the emotion expressed by a series of songs, but also from the sheer effort that it takes to plan and execute a mix. "The time spent implies an emotional connection with the recipient," writes Dean Wareham of Luna. "It might be a desire to go to bed, or to share ideas. The message of the tape might be: I love you. I think about you all the time. Listen to how I feel about you. Or, maybe: I love me. I am a tasteful person who listens to tasty things. This tape tells you all about me."

I remember doing an 'upbeat' mix for Kidlat (Cardigans, Toasters, etc), a Cocteau Twins primer for Camille, a hodgepodge of a tape for Indira (Ruby, XTC, etc), a Cure + Smiths combo for Lala, Massive Attack for Waya, and "songs to listen to while riding the MRT," for JB (mostly electronicky stuff -- FSOL, BT). Of course, I still make mixes for friends to this very day -- but on CD, not cassette. Anyway, the quote above is from this article in Salon, on Mix Tape: The Art of Cassette Culture, edited by Sonic Youth frontman Thurston Moore. (And by the way, I wanted to use that cassette-as-book-cover idea for my second collection of short stories -- dammit! That'll teach me to drag my feet). Here's Moore on CDs versus cassetes:

"Maybe it doesn't take the same amount of physical effort," he says, "but that's not the point. I think it takes the same amount of psychological effort, or romantic effort." Indeed, the true challenge of the mix tape -- selecting the right music and arranging it in a thoughtful manner -- is at least as tricky and probably even more difficult with a laptop and CD burner as it was with a boom box. In both cases, the mix is governed by the same compositional considerations: You need a narrative structure, an internal logic, a strong opening, an appropriate and preferably surprising ending.

Other music stuff: thanks to Fran for the link to Nerve's Music Issue! Some of the features are for Nerve Premium subscribers only, but anyone can read 29 Thoughts on the iPod, Great Sex Records You've Never Heard, and Sex Advice from Music Critics. Heh heh.



And finally, NINJA KISS 5: Ninja Ka Na Naman! is tonight: June 4, Saturday, at Saguijo Bar -- 10 PM, P100 entrance fee (with 1 free beer). Featuring IMAGO, MAKOPA, BAGETSAFONIK and the MILAGROS DANCEHALL COLLECTIVE! Yey!

I Saw the Signs

Yay! It's the Church Sign Generator! Yes, I am constantly finding new ways to squander time. Don't judge me. Of course, feel free to judge these guys.


Hours of pointless fun, for everyone. For those of a morbid turn of mind, there's also the Tombstone Generator. (Here's mine). In other news, I am apparently 26% gay. I think I would have scored higher if there had been any Pet Shop Boys or Queen questions.

Whose iPod Would You Steal?

So Indira and I were talking about Fascist Fridays at Cubao, when she admitted that "I'd love to steal Quark's iPod." (Watch out, Quark!) As I had previously been unaware of my friend's penchant for larceny, I asked why. "'Cause I'm sure it would have lots of great stuff on it," she replied. Ah, I thought... Makes sense! So who else would have an eminently steal-able personal mp3 player? "I'd steal Myrene's too," Indira said. "I'm not sure if she has one yet, though."

As for myself, I'd probably steal Toti Dalmacion's. Never met the guy, but whenever he's profiled in a magazine and he lists his current listening choices, I always notice shared obsessions: XTC, Prefab Sprout, and the like. And hey, his record label's roster includes Drip and Juan Pablo Dream!

I even have a copy of Mr. Dalmacion's 'wedding album'. When I was living in an apartment on Manigo Street next to my friend G (and below my friend Kidlat), I overheard her blasting song after great-sounding song one summer afternoon. I wandered over and asked her what she was playing, and it turned out to be a mix CD given away to guests at the Dalmacion-Alfonso nuptials. She got me a copy, for which I am grateful to this day. Lots of good, happy-romantic stuff on it: Prefab Sprout, Terry Hall, Lighting Seeds, even Spiral Staircase. I imagine his iPod would contain 40 gigs more of the same.

Other people whose iPods I would steal, off the top of my head: Robyn Lee, whose recommendations I always enjoy, and Marcus Nada, who was always listening to something cool (and usually obscure, and more often than not hip-hoppy) in the office.

Whose iPod would you steal? :)