Ok, ok, this article is inspired by Enzo’s Falling for a Rock Star. Well, in a world submerged in hypocrisy and utter forgetfulness about the things learned from kindergarten, it’s a relief that the Pinoy music scene has been on the resurrection mode like a Phoenix rising from the ashes caused by bubble gum pop and bold star moaning, err singing. Personally, I can stand the latter, but not the bubble gum pop whose singers are often confused whether they are destined for a music career or as product endorsers. Well early to mid-90’s saw Pinoy rock at its peak, which produced the best talents – from existential angst of Yano to the melancholic yearnings of Sugar Hiccup. However, as wolves in the music capitalist industry scampered to find new bands, a flood of mediocre poseur bands joining the bandwagon is enough to turn the tide away from these talented artists to a corporate-accepted coño bands. And yes, starlets too, but their stars’ luster seem to shine more in lustful incantations than music.
Enough for the introduction. Back to Enzo, I can’t blame him if he is falling for a rock star. In a Pinoy culture where women are supposed just to live normal lives either by finding a career in the corporate jungle or find a husband and be submissive to his whim for eternity, or both, choosing the road less traveled that leads to the path of being a musician is a feat in itself. A musician is very, very different from a singer. A musician creates music, stretching the bounds of imagination beyond the limit, while the singer just, well, sings. If you are confused, compare the music of the Beatles from the songs of Britney. If I am still in my teens, or early twenty, I may have done what Enzo did, as I also, once upon a time in my life, used to compose poems, no matter how mushy and amateurish they may sound.
But to his rock star. I did hear about her when she was still at HYP, but I was not able to listen to her music. Maybe, my first impression was she was too coño for my taste. While walking in the busy street of Taft, I noticed that some pirated CDs were being sold at P20 apiece. I bought Barbie’s Cradle first CD even if I did not know any single music it contains since I thought it’s cheaper than a pack of Marlboro. Hey, don’t get me wrong. I don’t endorse nor take a stand about the intellectual property rights debate here, I just narrating how I was acquainted with BC’s music. After I put the CD in my rack, it gathered dust for months, until a friend texted me and informed me that BC was playing in Malate and their music was great. That made me curious and I immediately played BC’s music.
And was it a great experience. Here was a young angelic poet reciting her feelings with all honesty. “Untouchable Ones” nearly made me fell from my chair.
Then came “Money for Food”, which I bought in original CD. Well, I did try to buy original copy of BC’s first CD, but they are always out of stock – calling Mr. Music Executive here. Barbie’s rendition of “Para sa Akin” was superb.
The third album, Playing in the Fields, was launched and I found it less inspiring than the first two. I always thought that music and religion, or ideology, don’t make a good partner. With the exception of Gary Granada, Buklod and U2, music with political undertones are somewhat political statements accompanied by melody – they seem not to blend with each other. Similarly, BC’s music in Playing in the Fields, some of which carry religion undertones, seem somewhat compromised, if you compare it to the spontaneity of the first album.
Soon thereafter I joined BC’s yahoo group. I tried to establish contacts to those who share my enthusiasm with Barbie, to participate in discussions and share my views. The yahoo group is a microcosm of the society – you can read e-mail ranging from the mundane to the most sublime. But I also got updates on BC’s gig schedule. Thus, I was able to watch BC’s album launching at SM and Glorietta.
Given the amount of e-mail I am receiving from the group compared to the little time I can spare – being a slave to a corporate master – I soon became a lurker, reading what available e-mails I can, without having time to answer back. However, there was one question by a member in the group that struck me –if Barbie’s not been pretty, would her music still sound great?
Well as I said before, it’s not the face, per se, that attracted me to Barbie, it’s her music that I greatly admire, although her pretty face is a plus. The way she sings her music and the way her guitar weeps and rejoices with her words are onslaught to every one’s emotions. In a society where success is measured in terms of the material rewards, real artists are those who are brave enough to travel the road almost forgotten by the material world. Just don’t let anybody, particularly the commercialist junkies, curtail your creative power, Barbie!
