Sa wakas? Baka naman, itutuloy.
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An hour into a 14-song set that burned with love and release, bass player Buddy Zabala and drummer Raymund Marasigan walked onstage with vocalist Ely Buendia’s sister Lally. In a voice that was shaky, she told the crowd of 20,000 that her brother had been whisked away in an ambulance.
Stunned, the crowd spilled out of the Bonifacio Global City Open Field. The lot of them had paid P1300 and P800 for the privilege of being there when the long-awaited, most rumor-filled reunion concert of the most significant Pinoy band in the history of the universe had taken place. Well, kinda.
But instead of a full-on riot as would have been normal in the past, we were unnaturally civilized even if every fiber in our being screamed, “PAKSHET! BITIN!”
But what we all said aloud was, “Kawawa naman si Ely.” The vocalist had plopped down onstage after the soaring incandescence of “Lightyears,” the last song of their first set.
He was said to have collapsed after repairing to his own air-conditioned tent backstage. Two days before, Ely’s mom died after a cancer-related surgery. Earlier in the year, Ely himself had suffered a heart attack and undergone an angioplasty.
From the outset, The Eraserheads reunion concert was as full of drama as its truncated reality.
The buzz
Mid-year, the buzz began. A free concert, it was whispered, or open only to smokers, at the CCP grounds sponsored by Marlboro. Each of the four members, including guitarist Marcus Adoro, was rumored to have been paid from P2.5 million to P10 million each. Then the anti-tobacco group came out swinging, saying the sponsorship was illegal because tobacco companies could no longer sponsor such events according to an international agreement the Philippines ratified.
Marlboro pulled out. Fans were crushed. It looked like it wasn’t going to happen at all. Then, a largely unknown production group announced said it was taking over the concert. Three days before the August 30 concert, tickets went on sale. The halfpage black-and-white newspaper ads looked like something torn from a high school souvenir program. It simply announced: ERASERHEADS: THE REUNION CONCERT with the date, venue and ticket prices. No fancy graphics, no sponsor logos, no photos. Except for the fact that it appeared in national papers, the ad itself could’ve traveled back in time from, well, the early Eighties when the band played college fairs and dives.
But the Internet bristled. Fans and lurkers fed rumor and hysteria. Raymund Marasigan himself issued what could amount to official communiqués to the egroup of one of his current bands, Sandwich.
Thanks to rumor, text messaging and viral marketing, 20,000 of us showed up that Saturday.
Greatest band in the universe
The Eraserheads were formed in 1989 by a bunch of U.P. buddies. In earlier interviews they said – maybe jokingly, maybe not – that being in a band was the best way to meet girls.
And their songs – some of the happiest, glummest, angstiest (as opposed to emo) and most affecting ever written (thanks in large part to Ely’s unerring radar for Beatlesque hooks) – were about girls: Ligaya, Toyang,
that girl in the magasin, someone who looks like Paraluman and Julie Tearjerky among others.
Instead of shoving preachiness down our throats, they were plainspoken and told good stories. They were also bad live. Did they even tune their guitars? Meaning, their sensibility was utterly punk. They were DIY all the way. But their songs hit home. Radio loved them. So did the sort of people who never gave an eff about local music. They were possibly one of the single most important influence of many of the bands that followed in their wake – Itchyworms (a member of which, Jazz Nicolas, played keyboards and did backup vocals during the reunion show) and Sugarfree being just two.
They seemed just as surprised by their own success. And Ely, snark genius, appeared especially unnerved by the pop stardom thing.
In 2002, after eight albums of restlessness and heartbreak, the group splintered in still unclear circumstances. It’s said Raymund couldn’t stand Ely.
So to get them together in one stage – after each member moved on with their own bands (Raymund with Sandwich, Cambio, Squid Nine and Pedicab; Buddy with the Dawn and Cambio; and Marcus with Marcus Highway; and Ely with Pupil) and made plain by the music they now did that the Heads were history – was a real coup.
Did they do it lang for the money? Who cares? They were together. And, before the series of unfortunate events that cut the concert short, they were all and more of the many lives that went to see them. And better still, they had gone beyond nostalgia.
Sa wakas
The signs inside the Bonifacio Global City complex said: THIS WAY TO THE ERASERHEAD REUNION CONCERT.
Three things about this. First, the signs were barely conspicuous, placed low on the ground. Second, they were, like their ad, lofi : big bold letters against a plain white tarp. Third, Eraserhead was singular.
And singular best describes what we were all there for. For a concert that wasn’t even supposed to happen, the organization was faultless. Security was tight. There were ambulances and fire trucks. The names of nonpaying guests were double-checked against a database found in banks of laptops on site. IDs needed to be government-issued. Color-coded security tags were passed under blacklight to make sure they weren’t counterfeit. And in addition to water bottles and cameras, ballpoint pens had to be surrendered.
Inside, what one blogger described as a “gigantor” stage – with a 60-foot screen as a backdrop and two smaller screens flanking either side of the stage – was notable too for the lack of sponsorship banners. It was thrilling; the big commercial sponsors shut out of what could be the greatest show on this side of earth. This was our show, collectively willed into being by devoted and casual fans. Spread through word of mouth, innuendo and a gridlock of IP addresses simultaneously chattering.
When the screen flashed 10:00:00, we screamed our heads off . The countdown meant to stoke and it did. But 10 minutes? It was ridiculous but the swell of anticipation was too much to resist.
“…4! 3! 2! 1!” A roar and then the screen flashed: “SA WAKAS.”
And yes it was. When the band, tiny in that massive stage opened with “Alapaap,” we all died and went to sing-along heaven, accompanied by an explosion of fireworks that burst around the stage and into the sky.
In song after song – from “Ligaya” to “Sembreak,” “Hey Jay,” “Harana,” “Fruitcake,” “Toyang,” “Huwag Kang Matakot” – and even when the band looked standoffi sh and resisted audience chants of “GROUP HUG!” they played, gosh, awfully well. Raymund, stoked, stood behind the drums and raised his sticks in the air to acknowledge the crowd.
Everything shimmered and soared. They were better than they’ve ever been. “With a Smile,” though ripe for a jocular shout-along, was heartrending, as sad and ultimately, as triumphant as the pathos of “Ang Huling El Bimbo.”
Th ese guys – without patter and backslapping cheese – were all there. In all their songs. For us.
In the end, the anticlimax was as much as a climax for an event that was so overwrought in the beginning but supremely perfect when it went on.
We couldn’t really ask for more. But, what the hell, we will.
Itutuloy
Post-mortem: From Makati Medical, Ely moved to the ICU of the Heart Center where he underwent another angioplasty. He’s fine now.
Immediately after the concert, Marcus, Buddy and Raymund trooped to the club Saguijo in Makati where they played the unplayed second (and some say, third) set: “Magasin,” “Pare Ko,” “Huling El Bimbo,” etc.
A few fans who later learned about this were PO’d. Replied Raymund in an email to his egroup: “here’s what you dont understand. playing music is what we do. we play when we’re happy, play when we’re sad, play when we’re angry, play when we’re sick, play til we die.
“painters paint, writers write, my skateboarding friends skate or die. when u ask nba superstars what they do in their spare time. they play basketball. us musicians, we play. thats what we do. getting paid is a bonus. I will not apologize for that. when we don’t get paid we still play.
“music is life
“ill only stop playing when i die.”
Raymund has also said on TV that yes, he’s ready to restage the Eraserheads concert. And I’m sure so are we.
