It was during college when I wanted to work in the music industry. This was, despite the depression, during the height of my optimism and hopefulness. I had so many dreams back then that revolved around music. I wanted to work in a record label and be an A&R guy. Wanted to manage bands. Wanted to produce records. Even wanted to put up my own record label. Wanted to become a music journalist. Wanted to be in a band or write and sing my own songs on stage, but back then, it seemed like an impossibility.
I had an inkling on how to do it that’s based on movies and music documentaries, but it wasn’t enough. I was immersed in the local music scene and research involved observations on how things worked, seeing how artists interact with the venues, the roadies, the managers, the fans, etc. I was twenty-one. It was eleven years ago.
Continue reading “This Maddening Scene”
I’ve mentioned before that my musical inclinations have, in recent years, leaned towards the stripped down, bare bones side of things. That simplicity and unfussiness of music has appealed to me due to, well, I wouldn’t say my age, but due to my bias for introspection and quiet. Simply put, I prefer acoustic singer-songwriter music on most days.
That’s why I’m a huge follower of the artists in the “3D: Danao Dancel Dumas” collective. Individually, the trio – Johnoy Danao, Ebe Dancel, and Bullet Dumas – does not need an introduction. All three have made names for themselves in local music history. All three have been success stories in OPM. All three are influential to the current and upcoming crop of guitar-wielding, whiskey swigging, lovelorn troubadours. And as a collective, as “3D,” the supergroup has definitely made an impact.
Continue reading “Dama = Feel”
This is bad. This is really bad.
I had no intention of doing anything else other than the one on my calendar. I only had one agenda yesterday: to have coffee with Bel Certeza. Money is pretty tight. Refer to the previous post as to the reason for my economic woes. But an hour or so before I left the house, I contacted a friend of mine from college. Her boyfriend’s band, Brisom, was going to play at Saguijo. I asked her if I can be added on the band’s guestlist.
Now, I’m not a cheapskate. I know how important door charge is to the bands that play a venue. If I have extra cash, I’d pay the door charge. But I do not. I told Marsha, the aforementioned college friend, that I’d take photos of Brisom in return. I didn’t get to. No, that’s not why things are bad. I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me start at the beginning.
Continue reading “Fire In The Hole”
I’ll say it right off the bat: prior to seeing the A Space’s e-poster for the Faces of The Century photo exhibit, I didn’t know who Luc Fournol was. But I wanted to go anyway because A. I’m a Alfred Hitchcock fan and one of his portraits was the photo used on the e-poster, and B. I felt like I should go to exhibits, being a photographer and all.
With that said, I missed the first time Luc Fournol’s photos, part of a private collection by Cyril Clement, were shown to the public back in November. It was APEC week and the main artery leading to Makati was closed. Thankfully, A Space did another round. I wasn’t gonna miss it this time.
Continue reading “Faces of The Century”
I’ve seen him do his stand-up comedy act about twice. Not intentional, but incidental. Those times I watched him, it was in support of his opening act, Arianne dela Cruz. Arianne is a friend of mine who once did the singer-songwriter/band circle years ago. She was, for a while, the musical opening act of Mike Unson’s comedy tour.
Last night at Checkpoint, history sort of repeated itself. I went to watch one of the musical acts that preceded him on stage, Fiona Comendador. Also a friend of mine.
Continue reading “Laughter As A Drug”
What started as a passion project for Bel Certeza became a purpose. A mission. Seemed simple enough. Document the bands and artists whose music she loves, has saved her life. She’s been doing it for almost a decade, anyway. Armed with a handheld video camera that most pro videographers would probably scoff at, she traversed, and survived, the dangers that the music scene had thrown on her and kept shooting. Beer stained floors. Rowdy drunken assholes (and rock stars.) Strip joint-type venue lighting. Sardine packed bars that tempted the fates in becoming a fire hazard. Even personal demons and ghosts that’s been haunting her were survived.
Continue reading “The Search For That Ever Elusive Silence”
Sunday seems like an odd day to hold a music related event. It doesn’t have that “IT’S THE WEEKEND!!” punch of a Friday, nor the celebratory feel of a Saturday. Sunday is for chill. For family. For quiet. For intimacy. For privacy.
And that’s exactly why Reese Lansangan’s #CreeperClub private ‘Arigato, Internet’ listening party at A-Space happened on a Sunday, I suppose. It seemed appropriate.
Continue reading “#CreeperClub aka The Gravitational Pull of Reese Lansangan Pt.3”