The Moon’s Reaching for the Stars

Accidents happen in this world for the sake of compromises, but promises good results nonetheless. From Coke to low-cal sweeteners, they all hold their billion-dollar legacy from tiny slip-ups. In Moonstar 88’s case, the band happened to be in the wrong place, the wrong time, and scored two smashing albums in only two years by being so. For them, accidents are called fate and success is a mere coincidence.

Just for the record, you owe the high heavens a good thank-you note that you’re now hearing that sweet voice on the radio, and not watching her as some gyrating member of the Sex Bomb Dancers. Vocalist Acel Bisa once hated any type of music she can’t move and groove with; anything that would stop her from living out her dancing-queen fantasies. Now, as you can see, she’s plucking the guitar, piercing the tune, and placing the double-platinum on her wall, but it wasn’t necessarily that easy. "During fiestas, William and his former band would play in the stage, and I would get so irritated that I would shout ‘Tama na!’ I wanted mobiles then instead of bands," she says, already less the hint of irritation for fast-beat percussions. And to put Alanis’s Ironic anthem into a real-life drama, Acel booked the same band she was banishing off the stage for her debut—the same day that she would trade her tutu for the rock star tiara. "They called me to sing, and they found out that I have a nice voice. They urged me to join the band since they really wanted a girl vocalist, but during that time, I really didn’t know anything about alternative music," she said, which was nothing a little Smashing Pumpkins couldn’t fix.

So, off she went with the bandwagon, where she met the man who’d be responsible for the band’s art and noise, bassist Paolo Bernaldo. The wagon hardly got anywhere and the two were kicked off the road tour for a lighter load. During that same time, Acel’s neighborhood drummer boy William Pineda was holding jam sessions with guitarist Herbert Hernandez. The two were also shoved out of their respective bands. And suddenly, the four became the leftovers that would form perhaps one of the most phenomenal break-away groups of our time.

But it’s not as though they’re the Fabulous Four instantly when they met; the phenomenon had its share of hard struggles too, the same headaches any Rolling Stone hopeful had as initiation rites. First up, the name. "We came up with over 150 names and we decided to pick Moonstar, which was at the 88^th slot on the paper," explains Herbert. Hey, it couldn’t get any worse than Starmoon 69, right?

And soon after the band is on black, white, italics, and small caps, they got into the jamming stage. "We were literally a garage band," William explains, and this time, he didn’t have the grunge era or the Eraserheads to thank. All they could afford at that time was William’s studio, which serves as a parking lot during the day. "The most tiring part in our jamming sessions was the end, when we have to bring all the instruments inside," recalls Paolo, seemingly missing the weight of the snare drum.

To earn enough greens for a good professional touch for their demo tape, they’d wheeze-out their angsty cover songs in a fine-dining restaurant during weekend nights. Now, Herbert is fast to admit that the restaurant is already closed, but they earned their band budget there nonetheless. Soon after they were off to recording.

It was Alpha Records that snagged them for a contract after two years of garage jamming, instrument weightlifting, and tireless lounge acts, and that was upon listening to a cut that almost failed to make it in the tape. During the final day of recording, Herbert’s brother whipped up a good dose of paper, ink, and literary genius to come up with what would be their biggest and best carrier single, but they didn’t see the potential then. "I found it corny at first, because I mean, who would think of using the word Torete? And it was supposed to be fast but we made a mistake of recording it slow, that it turned to a love song. Pang dagdag nalang dapat ’yon eh, but we’re surprised that Alpha loved it," shares Acel, which is now probably so thankful for the last-minute filler. And we are, too; it made a terribly great love song, and more so, a terribly great band!

So now, Moonstar 88 is already unapologetic for any accidents that pass their way. They have learned enough to let it pass and wait for the luck that entails it. So, if you see Acel falling flat on her face in a gig, which usually happens every time, just cheer on. They already have their second album ready to Press to Play, which I guess promises more stage slips for her, more airplays for the band, and of course, more time to bond with Moonstar 88.