The voice of Rivermaya

Well alright, Bamboo may long have departed but that doesn’t mean that the band Rivermaya has lost its voice. Some hardcore Rivermaya fans may have had reason to be upset about a review of Bamboo’s As the Music Plays, where the latest edition of Rivermaya (version 4, actually) was scarcely given passing mention as if it were merely an adjunct of Bamboo, and not the other way around, and they wondered why was I pitting the two bands against each other as if they were fighting cocks?

Version 4 Rivermaya aside from orig members Rico Blanco and Mark Escueta, has guitarists Kakoi Legaspi and Mike Elgar, and bassist Japs Sergio. In fact we purchased Between the Stars and Waves way before Bamboo released their debut, it’s just that since the original vocalist left, Rivermaya has been hard put finding a voice. Now Blanco’s songwriting has always verged on genius, but his voice seems to be for acquired tastes only, especially those raised on the Smiths and similar navel-gazing crooners. One reviewer even described Blanco’s vocals as effete.

In fairness, though, Stars&Waves does grow on the listener, and as pointed out by one Rivermaya loyalist, songwriting and vocal chores are now shared by Sergio and Elgar. Which, curiously, works because listeners are not numbed into submission by a lone wolf vocalist like Blanco, giving everyone ample space to stretch out musically.

Sunday Driving, which opens the latest CD, features a lazy chug-along drive through parts yet unfamiliar to the band, and Blanco more than holds his own because the song was clearly meant to be sung by none other than the songwriter. It’s also the type of tune you hear upon making love, almost like footsteps.

The single culled from the CD, A Love to Share, has two versions, the acoustic one coming at the end as a sort of bonus cut. Again, little use trying to picture Bamboo singing that song, because it’s certified Blanco. Same with My Favorite Song.

The contributions of Sergio and Elgar thus prove crucial in order not to allow Rivermaya to slip into a homogenized Blanco sound, and the duo prove equal to the task of providing the new counterpoint in lieu of Bamboo.

A quick listen to Sergio’s Tea for Two or Elgar’s Take my Cue provide a healthy change of pace in the proceedings, as well give Blanco some slack, though he does do vocals for some of the songs written by the other two. With the songwriting burden lessened, Blanco can concentrate to make his voice less effete and more bluesy, and it would not be a surprise if he takes lessons.

The restrained, always-quietly-threatening-to-explode guitarwork by ex Mr. Crayon’s Legaspi has my vote for the year’s best, same too with the album design of the fold-out lyrics and flash card edition.

Legaspi has an instrumental number near the end, a guitar showcase indeed worthy of his work with Mr. Crayon.

Music critic Igan d’ Bayan hit the nail right on the head when, asked to compare Stars&Waves with the album that came before it, Tuloy ang Ligaya, he said the earlier CD was more pop, the later one more new wave.

Only recently did we get to hear Tuloy ang Ligaya in its entirety, after coming across the single Umaaraw, Umuulan on MTV and on radio, with its fine interplay of electric and acoustic guitars in the fadeout. It seems that Rivermaya version 4 here is in its formative stage, yet already bubbly with excitement and a newfound pop life.

A song like Gising Na is one of the best album openers I’ve heard in recent years, seemingly like a wakeup call for the band itself to turn a new leaf.

Basketbol can be charming and radio friendly and even stick to one’s memory, but at the same time hint at the excesses Blanco is prone to.

And Ipo-ipo already leans towards new wave with its Cure-inspired vibe.

The other recent members of the band seem to be feeling their way through the CD, and the overall songwriting is almost formulaic and takes no chances.

Yet Tuloy ang Ligaya is formidable in itself and disarming in a strange sort of way, promising greater things to come for a band whose membership is ever shifting like the tides between the stars and waves, under rain or shine.