a valentine head rush
I met a firefly not so long ago,
Lighting my steps
Albeit how limiting her glow can be
And trying to open up my eyes
To the splendor of what’s still around me.
I caught her by the wing,
Put her in a jar
Suffocating the living light
Out from her fragile existence.
It pained her to feel the lack of air
Within the enclosed glass walls
But she took my gesture by the heart
In hope that I’ll know
Today now here
Is not
Yesterday then there.
She wanted me to choose light
But darkness, I insist,
Is where I belong.
The lid, I tightened more.
This firefly, I forgot
Has its dawn.
And as the fluttering sound of its demise grew louder
Her smile, which she offered every chance she got
Lost its curve.
What a funny twist
That when the clouds of my own life started to clear
She flickered her last light
Leave.
Leaving.
Left.
Another blackness to consume.
Another tale to whine about.
At least I still breathe, they say.
At the least.
Need to open the lid.
There must be another way out of here.
**this is so fucking emo.
But I fear the truth is far more clichéd
Than the text written.
Uncategorized | Comment (1)WHO’S AFRAID OF A POP SONG?
I never entertained the idea that there could be an elite circle in the underground circuit since it is, well, a striving industry so there’re enough drinks and parties for everyone. The prerequisite as I see it is perfect your art and in the process, help each other out. I have seen some good servings of humility and genuine support being passed around, people giving you the good word and encouraging you to keep doing what you are doing (whatever it is…). To balance the yin with the yang, I had my share of naysayers who kept questioning my real intentions behind my music from way back I forgot when. To explain your intentions? I didn’t even think it’s worth explaining.I did not know that in the music scene (and disappointingly the underground scene –albeit how small and limited it is), you have to answer to someone because you write the way you write or you sing the way you sing.
I am not affected. I am simply amused (to the extent of puking my own guts out) by the fact that people tendto set a criteria on who belongs in their circuit (spell schizo please?). It was actually understandable in Bicol since there’s no such thing as a by-genre scene there so there were clashes of interests. And, most listeners are ignorant to the reality that radio is not the sole basis of good music. But to find out that it’s worse here was such a downer.
These people are much worse than religious fanatics who seem to find pride and extreme contentment in condemning everyone to hell since they claim to be the purer one. PURE? SAID WHO? SAID YOU (and obviously the poor minions who are hiding behind the robes of the self proclaimed “Pure Ones’)!
Purity for me in art form is a non-existent category simply because no one is. I think close-mindedness would be the suitable term.
HERE’S A THOUGHT: Does it take away the purity of something you do when someone who’s not really in the scene or your listening circle got hooked on your experiment? Radio maybe is an outlet of an overt commercialist agenda but music being accessible doesn’t changethe quality of the song unless you are an unhealthy Type 4 personality (consult the enneagram-look it up!) who has antisocial tendencies and refuses to go with any flow simply for the fear of being mainstream. They live in a skeptic reality that they own the criteria of true purity in whatever art form. That must be a weighty crown to bear.
Music is music. Yes, some are slightly more intelligent than the others and most are simply crap. Radio airplay maybe is a tainted tool but I don’t judge a song by accessibility or popularity. That would be too shallow.Yes, Shallow!It’s like being convinced that all blondes are dumb. Those do, are the ones so safe in their circle that they resort to stereotyping to up their status which is actually just a façade of bitterness. I respect musicians who tend to go the road less traveled and do more than what their fans, label and genre or even they can even achieve.
And yes, radio does change the audience and listeners but to filter? For what? Be a punk and not care. Fuck you if you like my music, fuck you if you don’t. It doesn’t really matter. Music is the whole point anyway,not the promotion, genre or image.
Clem Castro (of The Camerawalls.) earned my respect for how he went back to his roots and stood by his music. Here’s a guy who’s earned his status by writing good tunes. He had his share of crabs determined to pull him down the bucket and he had his share of “giving in” to the masses’ (lack of) taste but what’s funny is, major or indie, he still sings and writes the same (or maybe, better.).
So fuck mainstream, and fuck indie. My friend Duke is right : Genre is a cage.
I can’t say it enough,
In the end it’s all about music.
In the end, no band or artist is bigger than their songs
Except of course if you’re John Lennon or maybe, Lou Reed.
But obviously we are not. You are not. Shallow fuck.
Uncategorized | Comment (0)
: Your Imaginary Friends :
I found something to blog about
aside from my almost non-existent love life, my extreme longing to play with my two little devils and those daily neurotic outbursts against this metro slum.
YOUR IMAGINARY FRIENDS
It has been a while since I felt really really excited about something so sincerely. Though it doesn’t necessarily solve that 4am walkathon “should-I-kill-myself-now” introspection, it somehow sow its share of anesthetic euphoria that can last even after the 2 hours practice sessions and half-baked gigs. I now have something new to look forward to. And this band is composed of creatures I’ve always dreamt to jam with . Man, I’m so gay.
Khalid Sohiel Tanji (guitars) – our main connection besides for the fact we came out from the same vagina, is the love for good ‘ol music. This guy can create sonic textures that can invoke the mood I envisioned for my songs. I was the one who taught him to play guitar but he grew up to be more inclined to do the tricks so I focused on what I do best: make up words and whine. We were bandmates since highschool and after a couple of years of doing our thing with our respectable groups,it was just a matter of planetary motions before we can cook up some magic again.
Eric Po (drums) – This big guy impresses me before when he chose hello me again (from the 1st EP of PPX) as one of his fave track. That was one of our experimental tracks, mind you. So that convinced me that this guy will like whatever I doodle down. He used to bang the skins for a friend’s band which I admire during our ateneo days. And he writes too. And I mean, he really writes. Technical offbeat show-offs beats is not his style. More on the minimal, but with a certain personality just enough to complement the song. Just the way I like it.sabi nga namin: once again, with feelings.
Irina Igami (Bass, Vocals) – This girl is the shit. My lack of metaphors for her is proof enough how I adore this lass. One condition I told the guys (when this project was still in its fetus stage) were I wouldn’t settle for anyone but a female bassist. Yes obviously it would be visually appealing but the primary reason is I want a girl who can do harmony to add that bittersweet element my songs lack. This hal-jap femme fatale got the job the moment she mentioned “softpillowkisses” and the rest is history. And man, her fingers can do wonders on those fretlines.and yes, she is the shit.
Getting to know Your Imaginary Friends
Heto laging lumalabas sa bibig ng mga kumags na to:
Ahmad – you need to abandon. yung tipong ifeel mo,wala kang pakialam. kumbaga,let go.abandon nga.
Eric – Dapat burn, not burns kasi does yung ginamit mo e. Pero galeng pa rin pagkasulat ng spaceman. Naiisip kong music video nun, ganito…
Khalid – what time practice natin? May pasok akong 12.
Rina – kunyari silip lang tayo sa Adonis.pero bahala kayo, baka ako lang may gusto. (crossing fingers)
CATCH US RISK OUR REPUTATION AROUND THE METRO.
BE OUR IMAGINARY FAN!
Uncategorized | Comments (6)
PROMDI IN THE CITY II (alcohol free musings from the metropolitan wasteland!)
*I love walking. Those who know me know that I got this ‘worried man pacing back and forth” mannerism. But walking from Ortigas MRT to our building is a sweaty stroll to hell. Can anyone spell tedium more clearly than this? Yes I like the thought that this exercise may be just be the final solution to burn my flabby abs off. I like the idea that it can give me enough time to reflect about the state of calamity my life is in. But man, this isn’t your typical walk to the park. I really need to walk for almost 500 meters. Every day, and every night to and from work. So I’m thinking of buying a rad bike. It may sound comical to see a BMX with all its glory straddling a polo wearing Arab in the busy streets of Ortigas but hey, it’s worth the humiliation. Unless our bosses send me some four wheels, I’ll keep this future scenario in mind good as done.
*I find all kind of science boring except for some occasional dash of biology and a visual take on woman’s anatomy but it amazes me how electricity can be inflicted on all the corners of our building to shake our balls off without us even being aware. There is electricity everywhere in our god damn building! Literally! I look like a neat freak using a hanky to grip the comfort room’s door knob. For what it’s worth, it’s a smart way to trip things off back to monotony.
*the thing with popularity is that it’s like a drug. You can get used to the euphoria so even if you crave anonymity, once you’re there, you’ll get the withdrawal feeling of super isolation like nobody cares anymore. You can’t blame me for being accustomed to it since I’m like a pet dog displayed in a pet shop’s front window way back childhood. From a Caucasian looking cuddly baby treated like a Sto.Niño by preggy women in our town-looking city (I swear this is literally true. according to my aunt, neighbors and unknown women would come to our house just to get a glimpse of me and if they are lucky to caught me down our front yard, get the chance to cradle me on their flabby arms believing that such action will let their tummy-monster inherit my features. Aaah so much for Filipino culture.) to a sweaty clown doing an impromptu Jim Carrey impersonation way back in high school to a local rock star-writer persona I’ve been projecting ‘til now, I feel like I’m trapped in rehab. Someday I’m gonna make my mark here in a this scary big city.ika nga namin ni Daniel “ someday girls will screaming our names beyond the four corners of the bedroom wall”. It maybe all drunken talks but I’ll settle with this for now and maybe laugh along with you. for now, for now…
*I raise my eyebrows on people who gave up their rock n roll dream citing they need to face reality. REALITY?!? Practicality, well that I can digest but since when did you start counting money as a reason for playing songs that you love, or songs you yourself wrote? If the gift of music is not reality then fuck the matrix, I don’t know what’s real anymore.
* Poverty can certainly breed boredom. So let me just say thank god for porn.
Uncategorized | Comment (1)PROMDI IN THE CITY
"i was dressed for success but success it never comes…"
Here (Pavement)
· The unemployment ratio of our beloved country is curiously low with all the job sites and classified ads earning a loadful because of romping job vacancies. And doing the rounds in Makati alone, you got to forgive me when I say where are the $#@&* hell are the applicants?!? It’s like being in a burger contest and discovering you’re part of a few contestants to gobble all the greasy patties on a thousand plates. Wait, I don’t even see the connection. Bad simile. Anyway you know what I mean. With the entire call center mushrooming all over the metro, it is insanely impossible not to be hired. I mean someone needs to fill up their seats, right? or they will literally shut down. So it goes back to the “siesta love” theory. We are simply not grooming ourselves enough or working our asses off to find our spot. You can’t be too picky when we’re talking about our digestive systems and the countless MP3s waiting to be downloaded and indie bands skanking some noise on bars with expensive beers. Ya hear me? MP3s! Cmoooon we are the future! We are the world! Sing with me!
· I am officially a bum. It has been a month and 3 days since I quit my steady job. And mind you, I’m not proud of it. It’s just that I suddenly have this sudden light bulb enlightment of how it feels like to be a guy who’s just waiting for his brother to lend him a hundred bucks to sustain his daily nourishment. You can get tired of those instant gratifications wrapped on colorful plastics or canned in uhmm well, cans. That’s why I found a special inkling with Pavement. They seem to be teasing my intellectual competency of just being free versing free flowing who can just speak out, live the life and not give a damn. But then again, my brother could just spit me in the eye and go Pavement over me. That wouldn’t sound cool and artsy now, won’t it?
· Call it PROMDI complex but there’s a singular unexplainable joy in riding the MRT. A trafficless, childlike joy. And it somehow reminds me hazily of living in a gloomy weathered British town (oh me and my brit pop fixation). It’s a bit disheartening though that on my 2 weeks stay and countless MRT rides, I have not gain a chance to feel the cold steel cushion of their passenger seat. There’s this new sexist regime too: Gender segregation for passengers. That’s worst than separate swimming classes for Co-Ed schools. So the gels are neatly compiled on the first cars while the working class sweaty gents are scampering at the last cars for some space, (and I’m talking inches!).We look like testicles hanging on metal bars and you just don’t want any friction to go with that. And how about the third sex? Where do they belong? Is reality a physical form of evidence or one’s classification of self identity? I just want an equal world where everyone is entitled for a butt-touch of that seat. ill pay that 11 peso ticket for just one chance to sit comfortably as I smirk on the sight of the commuters rushing home, cramming for a place in this fishbowl.
· Resigning from a regular job for six years is not an easy feat. You need to shed off attachments as brusquely as possible like dandruffs on your shoulder. In some ways you need to be icy and a little distant to avoid unnecessary tear jerking moments. And there’s this contemplation that just won’t end even until the first few weeks of your new job: “have I done the right thing by giving up a respectable routinary work with a five figure salary for a supposed-to-be better life in the metro?” “Am I threading the right path of the “professional growth” avenue?”
what does professional growth even means?
No, there’s no proper climax to end this bullet introspection. So pardon me when this battle yelp is all I have for now: Careeeearrr! Koreaaah Koreeaaa!
sleeping with rocketships and petroleum jellied soles
a drunk Weng was telling me one hazy night (on her signature sarcastic tone) in Wharf Galley about this reality theory bullshit. that everyone seated on our table (Last Page of Jermae’s Diary, Flat earth Society, the Doldrums and some other groupies) was doing what they want because someone got their backs financially. that if one will accept reality that we are financially unstable or one would feel the economic pressure of dishing out beer from a tax-slashed salary, no one will be sitting on our table for that long or playing on the stage for that matter (or something to that effect). Plausible, yes but i took this tirade personally because this good friend of mine was talking to a living example of the "fighting your way up to get what he wants" case. in my case, my rock n roll dream to be heard by more than a million watts beyond the boundaries of this region.
12 years and counting and here I am. Separated from my family, mom still fuming mad about this so called “highschool phase”, bankrupt without a bank, worrying about how to support my two kids but here i am still fueled by this adrenalined urge to mosh to the beat of that dream. It never wavered. it was simply a non-issue. Eventually it pushed me to spit some unsolicited advice which drove dearest mart to tears (sorry po ohmartha!).
You want reality? Here’s one: be happy. do what you want.
Despite EVERYTHING. *Gasoline hikes* attention seeking boyfriends/girlfriends**nagging parents*mainstream trends*lack of sex*digestive needs*.
Despite EVERYTHING!
There are considerations you will argue, but in the end, your parents will eventually die. Your son daughter sister brother best friend lover pet will soon fade away too. cruel but true.
And all that will be left is yourself. Yourself.Your dream. Yourself.
And man, you got some brains so do your thing to survive and stop complaining.
In all things, It’s always a sanity issue.
Will it keep you happy, will it keep you sane? This may sound selfish, but hell saving the world starts with saving yourself. So do what you want.
whatever it is.
And lastly , Don’t expect everyone to understand you.
so go.breathe.live.
We are genderless
We won’t compromise
We know
what we want
Turn off your radio
Your radio your radio!
“riot” – The Doldrums
Uncategorized | Comment (1)venting venting bent
this have been flaming way up high i can’t see the point anymore of fanning it down.it’s like suddenly el niño found a new ally.
unfortunately, no one is presidentiable enough to lend me a guitar so i can just translate this angst into an aural exclamation feast.
since i don’t have a uterus,
since society dictates the "beautiful" stereotype that the male of the specie would always
benefit in a falling out of a relationship( "HEY you’re a guy, you can just fuck around anyway and anytime you want.."),
i have suffered the inaugural blisters that comes right after each accusations.
and i’m through being an adorable fuck.
the funny thing is no one appears to know the story but they seem to be a hell of an expert as if every book-etched philosophers and gods would curse me to damnation and they’re totally sure about it.
and for the record,i never wanted this to happen.
why would i want to?
my whole life,and my whole security was at stake here.
my self esteem was plummeting jet speed before lozada could even sigh the word zte on her unshaven nostrils.
but it happened.
dead pretty.
i never wanted this.
but loneliness is never an excuse for love
so i sulk
being mature enough to accept a reality
that became like a bitter pill
so fucking hard to swallow.
being mature enough to understand
that distance
this thing we are going through
may even be a good thing.
i know i don’t need to explain anything but i just did.
blame it on my lack of friends who can lend me a guitar.
so FUCK YOU
you with your sexist ideals who thinks i don’t deserve any sympathy.
bring on the backlash.
Uncategorized | Comment (1)4:45 am at Rizal Street
like a laser show
you invaded the dance floor with a classic twist
an evening of fake love and endorphin rush
unnerving you from all the things you’ve missed
you spelled it with your eyes
and it can sparkle them blind
yet how can one notice
when it’s all about the discotheque
yes it’s all about the discotheque
round and round it goes
round and round, says the prose
just another silhouette to grace the bill
the bass throbs like the heart you wish to feel
and when the legazpi sky dress itself in red
and fuck buddies start heading to bed
you roam the streets
and find yourself alone
still alone after all.
Uncategorized | Comments (2)MUSH PIT
cielo made this blog/list about songs that reminds her of those people who made an impact on her life (or at least blemished her righteous existense).interesting concept, i say.i love lists, you see and i love analogical thinking done in a personal level.being the lovable copycat that i am (do i see sarcastic eyebrow raising there?), i decided to write one myself. but funny so to know that how elementary this "list writing" may sound like, it actually requires a lot of Cd playbacks and mental ferriswheeling.for one, a single song may remind you of a lot of person.A line or even the whole lyrics may not be applicable to a person but s/he loves belting it out like a sugaroverdosedvideokemonster.and worst,too many songs defining every stage your friends has undergone may induce bonamine moments.there’s even the question "who is to be credited first, the song or the person"? so I’m filtering my list with one main criteria: the 1st person that comes to mind define the song,and vice versa.PERIOD.
* Island in the Sun(Weezer) -Liza Armero
that skinny guitarist used to be her crush.a sunny track, like her presence.
*Nothing Better(the postal service) - Djai Basiño Tanji
we were hoping to sing this song in an indiepop sideproject group.the lyrics couldn’t be more precise.
*Mayonnaise(Smashing Pumpkins) - Khalid Sohiel Tanji
we named our college band after the song.maybe.
*Come as you are (Nirvana) - Thonz
too much alcohol makes this guy grabs a guitar and growl his way into this song.yes, a traumatic experience.
*Cannonball(Damien Rice) - Ingrid Cambaya
my ex-officemate who i constantly torture with sad songs to ease her ever lonely days .i remember her humming this song.
*In Between days(the Cure) - Raine Laguilles
not meeting her would have rendered the existence of the Doldrums just another pigment of my caffeine-induced daydreaming.Finding videos of Robert Smith’s band on her friendster page is enough invitation for me to bug her during her free time.
*Judith(a perfect circle) - Nikita
i hate to classify this girl as goth, but she sometimes scares me.
*This Charming Man(the smiths) - Cielo
she was asking djai for the title of this song while i was mumbling the lyrics on our way to Carangahan.for some reason, that scene stucked.
*Superstar(sonic youth) - mama
one of my all time fave album is "If i were a Carpenter: Tribute to Carpenters". I love playing it through dinnertime.and it never fails to elicit her reaction "parang galing sa kabaong yung kumakanta". she began to like it.aaah the beauty of repetitive conditioning
*songbird(oasis) - Rowena Laguilles
" Talking to the songbird yesterday
Flew me to a place not far away
She’s a little pirate in my mind
Singing songs of love to pass the time…"
*kung ayaw mo na sakin/unang araw(sugarfree)- Avary Cadag
another poor subject of my typical therapy of sad songs. she just broke up with her long time boy friend and i told her to listen to this songs to calm her.the opposite happened.
* talk tonight(oasis) - Serafin Timog III
one of our common grounds.
*Machinehead(bush) - Duke
he used to be an old acquiantance-cum-occasional drinking buddy.didn’t know this guy got a grunge soul.he sang this piece faultlessly.while drunk.
*Date with the Night(yeah yeah yeahs) - Martha Laguilles
i’m standing by this,she sang this well, even better than Karen O when she did this live.i can list all my fave grrrl rock numbers here and it will always reminds me of her.no question, she’s the epitome of riot girl in bicol.
*The Greatest View(silverchair)/Northern Star(hole) - Amal Sohiel Tanji
her ultimate crush is Daniel Johns.and she’s crazy for Hole.
*My Heart (paramore)/the District Sleeps Alone Tonight(the postal service) - Daniel
i deleted "my heart" off my ipod playlist because this guy is bleeding the itsy bitsy speakers dry with that paramore hit.and we’re soooo fucking inlove with gibbard lines
" You seem so out of context
In this gaudy apartment complex..".and wait,his shirt removing antics and that pointy-finger dance when pentcale played this song was one of the highlight of the 1st Club Molotov gig.
*learning to hunt(guided by voices) - my daughter Dylan Zinead Xiv
"i’m learning to hunt for you…"
*sleeping in(the postal service) - Marjolyn
saw the video of this song on her page.her pastel personality gained a deeper meaning.
*my hero(foo fighters) - Matt Rapirap
this guy beats the skin mercilessly like the guy singing this song.
*California Dreaming(the mamas and the papas) - Rowena Laguilles
flower power.a modern hippie.ChickIn resto bar would play a chemically distracting remix of this song.
*i wanna be sedated (the Ramones)/ God Save the Queen (the Sex Pistols) - Froilan Tena
Frox is Punk.You just don’t know it yet.
*Would?/Rooster (alice in chains) - Michael Gonzales
my record store chummy and high school bestfriend.we would raid the local record stores every other week for new cassete releases and play rockpaperscissors who deserve to buy an (unknown) album.he won with that aliceinchains green album.i was actually mad and gave him a restraining order not to let it be borrowed without me hearing it first.i was a fucking brat.almost fifteen years from now, i still hear layne staley’s voice vibrating from the grave, and this egghead’s image floating with the smoke.where are you now pare?
*Young Folks(peter.bjorn and john) - Ramon Navos
when i saw them play in the tonight show with Conan,i found them amusing but average.two months after, opening monchee’s page,the whistle bombed through my earphones.
*Bone Machine (pixies) - Elmer Ramos
one of the few guys from this side of the region who got a complete Pixies collection.and one of the few guys i know who’s a walking encyclopedia when it comes to good music. you buy me a soda?
*letter to you(finch) - Areej Sohiel Tanji
her X-BF’s song for her.i found it weird,her being open like that to us.
*love rhymes with hideous car wreck (the blood brothers) - SKP kidz
the SKP kidz are a face slapping and screamo-loving bunch with a drink-til-you-pee-blood mantra.for some reason, i would force fed them to discover other music.this is a favorite gem.
*makedamnsure(taking back sunday) - Ramon Navos
monchee was a songwriting partner-cum-all around chum back on college who was disgustingly into RnB.he credits me for changing his view in music.this song was the first song that he recommended that i actually liked.
*Fill the Fields(Talk Show) - Janice Candice Pascual
sometimes a writer can’t speak the poetry his heart dictates.especially when your high school mind has a limited grasp on vocabulary.the song made up what i felt for her at that moment.
*Purple Haze(Jimi Hendrix) - Joeffrey Guazon and Dennis Beltran
High School buddies who can play well.man i was jealous of them.unfortunately for them, i write better songs.hehe.
*Shiny Red Balloon(Barbie’s Cradle) - Karen Fullosco
we both love the band so passionately that she have to ignore our friendship and let me pay for the "tales from the buffet table" tape that i’ve lose.this was our fave track.
* Make Up(Popsicle) - Cathy Soriano
the comfort that has been.and that wishful tune to bless that memory, now that we’re in talking terms.
*Local God (everclear) - Vicente and Larry
childhood (street) friends who taught me to pee on walls, feast on Robin Padilla & Raymart Santiago action flicks and swim in irrigation centers with only our white loose-gartered briefs on.
*little motel(modest mouse)/ a lack of color (death cab for cutie) - Djai Basiño Tanji
tragically beautiful.
*Something(the Beatles) - Maya/Lee
i played this on a rusty stringed guitar and she shrieked like a freaking ambulance siren.
*Desperado(Rivermaya) - Warren Brocales
apartment days.he was forcing me to join a band competition with this as our contest piece.
*Clarity(john mayer)- Serafin Timog III
my favorite john mayer song.no question, serf sings like john mayer,and he can punish that guitar with the same romantic ferocity.
*Minsan(Eraserheads) - Popsmears(catrhyboopyjoeytereawiekaren)
Foodyard.Sting.Beach Get Away.Yosi Break.Joint Trial Session.
"minsan ay parang wala ng bukas ang buhay natin,nag-iiuman hanggang magdamag na para ba tayo’y mauubosan…"
*bulls on the heather(sonic youth) - Raine Laguilles
it was the video.kathleen hanna pogoing unto the whole set reminds me of her.
*don’t stay home(311) - Hernan Talaguit
back in highschool, i would rap like Nick hexum,and he would hop around liker SA Martinez.
*Turn your lights down low(Bob Marley) - Janet Tugano
i would constantly ridicule her for her mainstream taste and love of reggae.she just won’t budge.She would repay my sarcasm with a hysterical laugh that can scare away hyenas.
*serious offender(rivermaya) - Sarah Mediatrix Toraldo
it was a long long wonderful day.from the library to the ateneo canteen(for some iced coffee),we were talking endlessly about writing joint beat poetry and raving about the pumpkins and Maya’s new album.we would chorused with the lyrics of this song.. babet was teasing her about being a serious offender.
*possum kingdom(toadies) - Khalid Sohiel Tanji
my bro introduced me to a lot of bands.my music geekdom started with him.and i taught him to play the guitar.yeah we’re even.
*shady lane(pavement) - highschool life
99.9 WEB would play this song relentlessly when i was in my 3rd year high school.radio wasn’t that bad then.
*the scientist(coldplay)- Kristine Revale
my CCT chum would laugh with anyone about anything.and this song can wipe that smirk.
*bullet in the head(rage against the machine) - Caloi
the new Doldrums’ bassist is soft spoken, even a little shy.but that image shattered when he burst out rapping this song after a few beers in wharf galley..
*Uninvited(alanis morisette) - Babet
a long lost friend.her voice soars when she sings this song.she gave me an original FREE (rivermaya) album (which was eventually stolen).
*try try try (smashing pumpkins) - Sarah Mediatrix Toraldo
my favorite poet.and one of my favorite song.
*UltraSound(Sandwich) - Eric Po
this guy adores our song Spaceman.but it would be narcissistic to list that down.i remember him pounding drums for this song in a BU gig.we’re toying with an idea for a side project called Tea Room Orchestra or SoapBoxParade.
* Evil (Interpol) - Mary Keifer
actually it’s an evanescence song that’s playing with my head whenever Mary comes to mind.that terrifies me.so i tend to block it out with something more …evil.
"too many good music, so little time…"
bottoms down
everything seemed perfect last night.
free cold beer.
good friends.
sizzling sisig.
noisy conversations.
great view of the city.
then it rained.
it didn’t last that long.
but the weather’s got a comic streak
of reminding me
that
loneliness
is
just
one ride
home.
i just have to laugh.
bottoms up.
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