PnE through the years has engendered a cult following of sorts, borne in large part by the band’s quirky, even black sense of humor that borders on the scatological. They may veer dangerously towards the cutesy and juvenile, but songs like This Guy’s in Love With You, a seeming old standard given a new gay twist, only demonstrates there’s more where that genius came from.
For what it’s worth, we’re proud to announce having purchased the band’s latest original CD, Bigotillo, where PnE adopt another suave persona to showcase their penchant for parody, and their ever-formidable musical talents are put to good use as a vehicle for a comedy of manners a la Pinoy showbiz.
The album opens with typical Edgar braggadocio – or is it bravura, whatever – in Alumni Homecoming, with the guitars blazing and Chito Miranda’s gracefully maturing vocals taking a dig at an old sweetheart’s "pangit mong asawa."
Miranda again shows excellent sabit in his voice in other cuts like Choco Latte and Tsaka na Lang, with excellent counterpoint provided by the other guy Vinchi, or so the credits say.
Of course this would not be a PnE album without the send-ups and remakes of former hits, like Yano’s Santong Kabayo (here dusted off as Chikinini), and the cheesy Hagibis tune Katawan, as well the necessary funny fillers, such as the plug for Taimo pesticide.
Guitarist Gabe Chee Kee does his mandatory vocal turn in Absorbing Man, but his voice is anything but run-of-the-mill. NU rock awards best bassist Buhawi Meneses does the vocal chores in the carrier single Mr. Suave, or is that Vinchi? Album sleeve credits can at times be too minute and may require a magnifying glass to decipher. Besides, the guys are adept in taking on varied personas, such as the mustachioed Mr. Suave, that the players’ roles overlap and may interchange. If you’ve seen the music video of the song, including a pa-contest where viewers guess who really is Mr. Suave in the band, then you would get our drift.
The band also does worthy experiments in rap and hip-hop with The Yes Yes Show, which can only leave the listener hankering for the Francis M of old. As usual, Edgar saves the best for last, with the double barreled closer, Ted Hannah and the unlisted bonus cut whose title may be My One and Only You if it (the title, not the song) wasn’t so corny.
Much of the success of PnE can be attributed to their creative, inventive musicianship, with an ear always cocked out for the killer melody or hook, all conspiring into an amalgam laid thick and riding on a slithering bass line.
The guys also have a fine sense of humor, and most important, they never seem to take themselves too seriously. Except for their fans, who can be rabid when whipped up into a frenzy because of unfair reviews.
Edgar also has a knack for role-playing, especially when the band members assume comics-like attitudes, which was first made evident in album two, Buruguduystunstugudunstuy.
And, with the music scene in a constant flux – or is it lingering malaise – and the turnover or dearth of bands becomes more the rule than the exception, it cannot but be heartwarming to hear Parokya pounding out the chords and hitting the high and low notes with correspondent devil-may-care aplomb.
They’ve grown too as a band, but not so much as to be boring and, worse, predictable. We’re almost tempted to call them elder statesmen of the trade, what with new and unheard of acts and one-hit wonders sure to mushroom in the next corner, except that Chito and company might laugh us off this page. They’re cool and forever young, pirates or no pirates.