identikit x paranoid city (july 24)

Sandy Buladaco and Joe de Jesus of identikit 

identikit

it doesn't look like it here, but Paranoid City frontman Dax Balmeo really reminds me of Patrick Fugit

since Alex Naidus' pogi shoes, I seem to have developed a penchant for men's feet/shoes

Manny and Ayin after Identikit's set

sweaty fan girls (minus Jear and Jennie)

Having promised Manny (Ayin’s boyfriend) that we’ll watch his gig one time, we dropped by SaGuijo to catch Identikit last Tuesday. Completely inconsiderate of his machismo tendencies, and manly fears, we went as stereotypical groupies, or in today’s jargon – fan girls. Well not really, there were no banners, screaming while weeping or panty-throwing involved. Just us taking a gazillion photos in a span of what, 30 mins?

Although their sound seems to have changed from Peach, I thoroughly enjoyed watching them live. It was priceless, watching Manny “the drummer” in action and Ayin “the annoying girlfriend” completely in her element and looking prettier than ever. These two are an unlikely match, but they’re incredibly synced, it’s kind of scary!

After Identikit, we hung around for Paranoid City, who both Ayin and Manny couldn’t stop gushing about.  AND WHY THE HELL NOT, THEY’RE AMAZING. And this isn’t because the frontman resembled Patrick Fugit in so many ways, but I was kind of shaken, in a very good way, tapping my foot, resisting dancing, completely smitten. This is really a band to watch out for.

Before we left, Manny gave me a Paranoid City and Dropouts CDs. Yay for my first going away presents. 

DCFC in the flesh

A few years ago, I made a sweeping declaration: there are only two “living” bands that I would see live – Dashboard Confessional and Death Cab for Cutie. This year, the clouds above opened up (let out the Atlantic like the Translanticism song goes) and sent both Dashboard and Death Cab to the Philippines. On the same week! I swear that peeking through the silver linings, the gods are smiling down at me.

I rarely call myself a fan, but with Death Cab, I have no qualms with calling myself one. Back in college, writing/reading workshops would end with Trina’s carbonara shared in circles while we listen to Postal Service and Death Cab in ate Karize and Franco’s apartment. I remember treading the hilly way to the library and through the lines of What Sarah Said with Franco – deeming it too great to be sung, we recited it. One of the poems in my thesis was based on What Sarah Said, and another was written during a writing prompt spanning the length of the instrumentals to I Will Possess Your Heart. Death Cab is one of those bands I can listen to all day, and I remember doing just that until Chase has memorized the lines to Soul Meets Body. I am without a doubt, a fan.

Hence, dying almost as soon as Ben Gibbard went on stage. Despite this long entry, I am still at a loss for words and couldn’t possibly fully express what happened or how I felt during the concert, just that I was trembling the entire time (and I’m sure it wasn’t because the music was too loud). I hauled myself up on the railings, and was balancing on thin metal bars throughout the 2 hours of pure joy. We were among the first to enter the premise and this secured us a spot nearest the VIP section (only railings between us). I don’t care that I didn’t get near Ben Gibbard like I did with The Pains. I don’t care that there’s 40feet-worth of fans in heavy trance between us. Knowing that I was in the same room with his brilliance was enough to send me to tears. When I Will Follow You Into The Dark played, I exchanged with Ica and stood by ate Karize. She rested her head on my shoulder and I wrapped my arms around her and I really felt like crying. When they returned on stage for the encore, the entire stage was in darkness. A spotlight shone over the piano where Ben Gibbard played Transatlanticism (one of my absolute favorites) and I swear that at that moment, I knew that I couldn’t possibly be anywhere else.

None would give justice to how awesome this experience was, but I’m forever thankful that Steph managed to sneak in her camera to take these beautiful shots to remember this concert by:

I’m glad I didn’t get tickets to Cranberries and Taking Back Sunday just yet. I feel like I’m solved with Death Cab for now, like I’d get by without watching any more concerts for the next 20 years. Another sweeping declaration, people.

The Pains of Being Pure at Heart Live in Manila! (02-29-12)

Was originally planning to let this band go, as I wasn’t really a big fan to begin with, but on the morning of their concert, Nicole and Steph decided to treat me to The Pains for my birthday (and who am I to say no to a chance of seeing Alex Naidus live!).

Was there early to get me my ticket, and we saw that the band was already there practicing. A week ago, there were news that Connor Hanwick of The Drums will be going with The Pains to Manila, but because The Drums themselves were on tour, we didn’t bet on it. But there he was – Connor Hanwick in the flesh, on stage, doing a sound check. Steph was in tears! She suddenly didn’t care about the Pains and was focused entirely on getting a photo op with Connor.

We peeked and lingered ‘til we creeped the hell out of the guys at Hard Rock. Haha! We left and returned a little later, but still early enough to ensure us a spot nearest to the stage.

Bee Eyes, a garage-pop band from Manila opened for the Pains. I’ve heard of Bee Eyes earlier last year but didn’t hear them play until that night. I enjoy their sound and am planning to download their songs (free on their website!) in time for summer!

Julius Valledor (vocals/guitar) doing a “not bad” face – exactly my thoughts when he started playing.

The Camera Walls played next. I’m a big fan of The Camera Walls’ front man Clementine Castro who was the vocalist/guitarist/songwriter for the now-defunct Orange and Lemons. Good to know he still writes and plays good music. But I find his performance a bit distracting, and it’s not because he’s quite a dead ringer for Yoko Ono, but because of his antics on stage – he headbanged the mic, lied down on the platform and gyrated off beat throughout the entire stint.

Clem is so adorable. When I lined up to have my shirt signed by The Pains, I talked to him and told him how much I liked the songs from Moonlane Gardens. After thanking me, he gushed, "papapirma ka rin ba kay Peggy? Ako rin Eh!" Such a fan boy! 

The Pains of Being Pure at Heart began with “This Love is Fucking Right” – not one of my favorites but one that I love to dance to. From here onwards, all I did was smile, scream, sing and dance like a true fan girl (although prior to this, I would never admit it). Halfway through the setlist though, I started skipping the lyrics and humming through the songs in pain. Alex Naidus is too damn beautiful, it hurts.

One thing I love about The Pains is how levelheaded they were. We learned that the night before, they hung out at Cubao X with Bee Eyes, had a few drinks and made friends. When the concert ended, Kip even invited everyone to hang out with them. He was also all-smiles throughout the entire concert, and promised to take a picture with everyone after. I love him! Peggy's so adorable and nice too. Kurt, who was sitting behind us watching videos while we waited for the concert to start was also really friendly. I love it that they're all so nice and approachable. I remember that I stopped listening to Kings of Convenience for a while when they visited Manila and Erlend Oye turned out to be a snob. Kindness to fans matters. And now, I’m a bigger fan than I were before I watched The Pains live.

Been three days since, and I still can’t stop blushing. Although, I have to turn this off by tomorrow so I can turn the tears on for Death Cab for Cutie! But before that, check out my wallpaper:

After Death Cab for Cutie: Dashboard Confessional/The Used, Taking Back Sunday and The Cranberries.

This is fact, not fiction.

By virtue of pure luck, I scored a ticket to the DCFC concert despite my current lack of funds. Fine, I bought it. Now I really am poor and starving. Throw in eccentric and productive on that list, and I’d be a real artiste. Anyway, money definitely well spent! How can I not watch Death Cab live when upon hearing them the first time I vowed to marry Ben Gibbard’s voice? No, I couldn’t possibly miss it. So yeah, as I type this, I am multitasking and plotting my way to the backstage and into Gibbard’s heart.  

Just a thought: I wonder if I should have a Transatlanticism shirt made in time for the concert, or if that would be far too fan girl of me?

Random: sometimes, I really feel like Someday You Will Be Loved was written for me. Some other times, I’m pretty sure it was. Or, you know, just this part:

You may feel alone when you're falling asleep
And every time tears roll down your cheeks
But I know your heart belongs to someone you've yet to meet
Someday you will be loved

Last one: I will never forget how What Sarah Said inspired Rise and Fall. Just like what Love at First Sight did for Three Colors: Red, except of course, mine was less epic. Fuckthis.

Of commitments, series and bad endings (and the randomness of it all)

Is it just me, or is Santana’s version of Rumor Has It really better than Adele’s? Santana just earned a place in my heart for that brilliant performance. That, in itself, is quite surprising since my heart has recently closed for construction.

Moving on (before I start bawling my eyes out over heart-talks), coming home early yesterday allowed me two episodes of Glee. I haven’t watched a single episode since I left ThinkIdeas. Back in my old work, we used to watch it like clockwork. Needless to say, I never missed an episode then. But on my own, watching a series is hard work. I’m a commitment phobe that way. I seemed to have watched all sorts of series – Heroes, Desperate Housewives, Friends, Grey’s Anatomy, One Tree Hill, Big Bang Theory, etc – and never finished a single one. Except How I Met which I continue to watch to this season, and which I intend to see through (if I be blessed with enough patience). But I don’t watch it regularly or weekly – as one is supposed to. I wait ‘til episodes pile up, and then marathon them on weekends. More fun that way.

My system is not built for series. I wonder if this says something about me as a person. Commitment phobe, as I mentioned. Or, perhaps I really have no time to wait for endings that do not live up to my expectations. They build you up then disappoint you, these goddamned series. I swear if How I Met Your Mother ends up with a mother I don’t like, I’ll explode like a pie left too long in the oven. Bad simile. Sue me.  

Oh well. I say too much, and they don’t really mean anything, yes? I am such a sucky blogger. Bye. 

O. Lover

I missed the Dashboard Confessional concert the summer of 2010. It marked the end of my only-beginning concert-watching phase.  After this, whenever I’d think of watching a concert, I’d feel so guilty, so I never did so much as think of watching a concert. I’m that melodramatic, sorry. In fact, when Gel was at the concert, she kept calling me because she wanted me to listen to Dashboard play El Scorcho, and I wouldn’t answer. My mom kept saying that I should text Gel to stop torturing me. Haha! Dashboard was one band, other than Nirvana and Beatles (among the some-dead), and Coldplay and Death Cab (among the living) that I would die to see! Missing it scarred me deep.

But, I eventually stopped being so immature, and decided to watch my first concert after “THE incident” (matured a bit, but still melodramatic, yes?). I decided to watch Jason Mraz with my best friends Chase and Nicole, and Nicole’s friends Matt and Ryan.  I’m so glad I did.

Is it just me, or does he really look like Ewan McGregor in this photo? Ah. Just me.

It was quite an experience. I couldn’t stop gushing. Never mind that he doesn’t feel like the same Jason Mraz I started listening to. This Jason Mraz exchanged his fedora hat for a bandana! He turned from the neat and sleek geek in the pink to a hippie Jesus dead-ringer. This reminds me so much of George Harrison’s transition from the sleek coconut haired member of Beatles to the long-haired, moustached Hare Krishna endorser. This makes it so appropriate that he sung Across the Universe halfway through the concert.  “Jai guru deva, om” feels so meant to be when it comes from Mr. A-Z. Makes me wonder who his guru is. Toca, perhaps?

Peace-wearing, shoulder-dancing, curly haired boy I love.

I’m more in love with the new Mraz. His new music, too, which I can’t freakin find anywhere in the world wide interwebz. Oh well (papel, as Ken would say), I’d be contented with playing Please Don’t Tell Her on loop for the next week.

Signing out the way Mraz did, by saying “YOU are loved.” 


So rude of me to have mentioned Toca only once and only in passing. Toca Rivera, Jason Mraz' percussionist was Mraz' complete band - both his percussionist and second voice. I quite like him. He reminds me of Stevie Wonder (don't you dare call me racist - they're both talented is what I mean). I think he was more interactive than Mraz. He was the one who said "we love you" in the end, and that matters. He's got a good voice, too; which makes me wonder as to why he sings back up to Mraz when he could definitely make a name for himself. Oh well papel. 


Remind me to have a Toca baller made. From this day forward, I'm considering myself a fan.  

There is a light that never goes out

I’m not the kind of person that’s way too in denial. If I like something or someone it wouldn’t take me forever to admit it. Same thing with hating something (I rarely hate anyone). Which is why it came as a shock to rekindle an unknown love for the 80s.

I hate the 80s. 80s for me is Boy George. While 90s, wow, 90s is The Cranberries, 90s is Third Eye Blind, 90s is Barbie’s Cradle, is Nirvana, is Alanis Morissette, Dave Matthews Band… I could go on forever. And I was born in the 90s, 1990 to be exact so that’s another reason to love the 90s. 90s was amazing, however young I was when it was declared over. I hate the 80s. And I wasn’t careful in voicing out my obvious hate for it, since it seems I like the other decades except the 80s. But my brother Paolo would have none of it. So all the way from Subic to Binan, he played 80s hits. And it turns out that I’m just ignorant, cause most of the songs he played I actually love/loved. I love, for example, the Smiths! This Charming Man is one of my favorite songs, and I sing Simply Red songs in the karaoke. And do I need to say anything about ABBA, Bruce Springsteen and Spandau Ballet? So yeah, I love the 80s now.

I still don’t like Boy George by the way. He is to me a creepier version of Marilyn Manson eeeek! I tremble at the memory of the Do You Really Want To Hurt Me music video! No offense, I hate Culture Club.