Music, memories and ever-changing moods

There are certain moments in life that you could almost set to music. If movies have soundtracks, there are real-life situations when I swear I could almost hear music playing in the background — as if I could be living that very same bus scene in Almost Famous where they were all singing Elton John’s Tiny Dancer.

From something as mundane as waiting for a cab with a Regina Spektor song in your head or a random old memory of High School Prom with Buttercup blaring from the speakers, there is much to be said about music’s uncanny ability to add a little weight to an experience, especially when it is shared with someone special. Surely you might not remember the boy, but you may remember the feeling — to dispute what an old OPM song once proclaimed.

One of my earlier memories of shared moments was of my mom and me at daybreak. I would watch her prepare a cup Nescafé for herself with about a teaspoon and a half of coffee, a little sugar and just about as much powdered milk — there wasn’t even Coffee-Mate back then — to turn the hot beverage a whiter shade of beige. That was how she took her coffee and we would sit quietly — me, groggily — before going about the motions of the day.

In 1983, Nescafé put out an advertising campaign that showed slice-of-life vignettes, pitting international images with a song that offers an emotional hook.

And I still remember the words, now that I think about it, as if it has been tattooed on my mind. “Let’s sit and talk a while, in the One World of Nescafé.” I can still hear the timbre of the young Zsa Zsa Padilla’s voice, the inflection of her delivery; as if the song is something I still listen to now on my iPod.

Far removed as I am now from those moments, finding myself in a place where the world “sits at separate tables,” as the song says, I would unknowingly return to those memories at times when it seems like life is going much too fast, when life gets much too challenging.

I would sulk and be all moody as a kid forced to leave the comforts of my bed, but without really giving it much thought then, I know now that both my parents had been teaching me a simple life lesson — you may love your bed, but you’ve got to get up and make a living. They sure did.

In 1988, Nescafé celebrated its 50th anniversary and Jose Mari Chan composed a jingle to mark the milestone. The result was Nescafé 50 Golden Years, delivered in that signature style that we have come to know from the artist. Chan’s contribution to Nescafé’s legacy reflects the brand’s maturity; in some ways it recounts surviving the odds and getting better with time.

By 2004, Nescafé has taken a newer, younger approach to its campaigns. With it, the music has taken a much youthful, more active tone.

Barbie Almalbis’ Good Day reflected the exuberance of youth and the excitement of discovering the unknown. “Smell it, feel it, taste it... Your sunshine in a cup,” it says, a sentiment that holds true at times when that invincible feeling revisits and colors our world hopeful and amazing.

Bamboo’s Sunshine, meanwhile, is a simple but bold statement that the new breed of coffee devotees can easily relate to: “Sun is up... I’ve got so many things to do. But it’s alright, I can taste it… It’s gonna be a good day.” Indeed, they are ready and willing to take anything thrown their way. In some ways, hearing this song and seeing the band perform it in a one and a half-minute music video call to mind chances taken and personal victories won.

In 2006, Hale brought back those special moments with its own take on the jingle, One Moment, One Nescafé. Another equally exciting jingle was recorded in 2007, this time with Parokya ni Edgar. With the Parokya version, the company communicates the new experience of the 3-in-1 variety — the no fuss kind coffee lovers can enjoy any way they want.

Parokya ni Edgar’s Taglish jingle fostered a sense of affinity — that whoever you are, your everyday experiences are important, from the smile you share with a friend to that much-deserved gimmick with the barkada. As urban warriors, time spent with friends can get few and far between. Thus when it happens, it rates high in our excito-meter. And when I hear this song or see the commercial on TV, I’m always reminded of my college buddies I need to spend more time to see, or the friends I’ve made at work whom I’ve left or who have moved on that I have yet to e-mail again.