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By Paul John Caña, Contributor
The trip down memory lane may have been unexpectedly brief, but
it was a journey well worth the wait.
The Eraserheads—arguably the greatest Filipino
band of this or any other generation—defied numerous obstacles on
Saturday night to perform together again for the first time in over
half a decade. And while it was a reunion that, tragically, had to
be cut short, it was enough to finally satisfy most Filipino (and
even a few foreign) music fans’ desire to reconnect with the
memories of days gone by.
When the first few strains of “Alapaap”
wafted through the air, hours after the gates opened to let in the
most diehard of fans, we weren’t at the Fort open field with
several thousand other sweaty concertgoers; we were back at our
neighborhood sari-sari stores with our barkada strumming our
guitars; we were alone in our rooms listening to the band on our
cassette tapes; we were on a road trip with friends or at a smoky,
greasy bar with a first date; we were back in school or back to the
days when we knew how to have fun with just a song to keep us
company. And whether we were screaming our lungs off or suddenly
became catatonic when Buendia started warbling those lines, “May
isang umaga…,” nostalgia was etched on all our faces. Not a few
tears of joy and uninhibited emotion were shed at that moment. This
was more than just an ordinary concert; it was a gathering of
kindred spirits to pay tribute to four guys who’ve become legends
in their own time.
Various sources pegged the total number of warm
bodies inside the makeshift walls of the venue that night from
20,000 to 40,000. And while regular artists and shows usually
attract more or less the same kind of people, a veritable menagerie
of music junkies turned up that night. There were the yuppies in
their late 20s to late 30s, the age group most influenced by the
music of the Eheads. There were model-types in stiletto heels and
scruffy types in their Chucks. There were teens too young to have
caught the band at a live show, and lolos and lolas who grooved and
sang along with the rest of the crowd. There were artistas in their
porma best with nosebleed tickets right up front and humble
probinsyanos in ill-fitting shirts way out back. Everyone, it
seemed, didn’t want to miss out on the chance to become part of
history.
Marcus Adoro tripped on some of his guitar
solos. There was hardly any banter between the foursome onstage,
something that might have conveyed that what we were seeing was a
genuine recreation of how they were at the height of their
popularity. And many of the people in the audience that night,
particularly those at the Patron and Gen Ad sections, were miserable
because they were too far away from the stage to have seen anything
than the miniscule profiles of the band members. But really, in the
end, nobody cared. When the band started on the hits (and almost all
of their songs were hits in some form or another), everyone was just
too grateful and caught up in the moment to complain.
For those who were there who want to keep track
(and those who weren’t there and are just plain curious), the
songs played were: “Alapaap,” “Ligaya,” Sembreak,” “Hey
Jay,” “Harana,” “Fruitcake,” “Toyang,” “Kamasupra,”
“Kailan,” “Wag Kang Matakot,” “Kaliwete,” “With A
Smile,” “Shake Yer Head,” Huwag Mo Nang Itanong,”
“Lightyears Away.”
The enigmatic Bunedia, who already underwent
heart surgery last year and was carrying the pain of losing his
mother just two days prior to the big reunion show, looked frail and
weak up onstage. When it was announced during intermission that he
had to be rushed to the hospital for extreme exhaustion and that the
show was being canceled, everyone seemed to share in the grief and
the heartbreak. There were scattered shouts of “we want our money
back” and a few whispers from conspiracy theorists. But the
overwhelming sentiment was of concern for the health and well being
of the front man.
Like a dam bursting, everyone started filing out
of the venue soon after the announcement. The overall mood was a
mixture of ecstasy and disappointment, as if people were confused
whether to feel grateful at the 15-song gift of the supposed
once-in-a-lifetime show, or dissatisfied and perhaps a bit resentful
at the abrupt, even shocking ending. Thankfully, Bunedia’s
condition has improved and he is currently recuperating at the
Philippine Heart Center in Quezon City.
It would have been easy to have scrapped the
show altogether when the first concert sponsor bowed out after
intense pressure from the government. It would have been
understandable if the show hadn’t pushed through after Bunedia’s
mother passed away just two days before they took to the stage. And
given that all the band members currently do their own thing and
live their own lives (Bunedia with Pupil, Buddy Zabala with The Dawn
and Cambio, Raimund Marasigan with Sandwich, Pedicab and various
other rakets, and Adoro, well, enjoying the waves of San Fernardo as
a surfer), they had no obligation or motivation to get back together
and play again as the Eraserheads. But there was one thing they
couldn’t ignore, one factor that pushed them to relive the glory
days, if only for one night. (And no, it probably wasn’t the
money). It was the people who stared back at them, whose eyes they
cause to water and lips they cause to smile through a guitar chord
or a line from one of their songs. They did it for the fans. It is a
testament to how much the four respect, appreciate and love the
people who’ve followed their careers and who profess to loving
their music that they threw away whatever hang-ups they might have
had about themselves or each other and decided to just give the fans
exactly what they wanted. And that’s something we should all be
thankful for.
The question now is, will there be a repeat of
the concert to end all concerts? Will there be, as Peabo Bryson so
eloquently put it, a second once-in-a-lifetime? That hardly matters.
If Saturday night’s show proved anything, it’s that with the
right ingredients, impossible things really can happen. Who knows,
we may yet dance to the strains of “And Huling El Bimbo” sooner
than we think.
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