Last man on earth

If ever the good Lord decides to let the Philippines (or perhaps just Metro Manila) slide into the ocean , giving us only enough time to gather a few relics from our culture to put in a glass capsule, what would we put? No harm in making conjectures. We should probably put both of Jose Rizal’s novels, a good photocopy of Gregorio C. Brillantes’ The Cries of Children on an April Afternoon in the Year 1957, a DVD of Mike de Leon’s Kisapmata and Lino Brocka’s Maynila sa Mga Kuko ng Liwanag, Juan Luna’s "Spolarium" (or maybe "Parisian Life "— hell, it cost enough), a pack of dried mangoes and — it is the writer’s earnest wish — a CD of Roxlee’s "Ghost of Rocker Janis."

One can only guess at the reaction of any intelligent alien life form that listens to this modest gem of an album. Composed of absurdist vignettes and lyrical wordplay (all to hilarious effect), Roxlee’s debut is a stark journey across the mental terrain of one of the most important and legendary underground local artists in the last 20 years. Armed with only his guitar, a harmonica and his imagination, Roxlee — ever the sari-sari store surrealist — gives a guided tour of his strange world and its even stranger occupants (which includes a thinking pig, straying noses and the spirit of a 1960s rock singer).

Beneath the tomfoolery of Roxlee’s tales, however, lies an undercurrent of post-millennium melancholy, most probably about the growing subtopian landscape around him. "I usually get my ideas when I’m in the mountains or around nature," answers Roxlee when asked where he feels most inspired. This is especially telling when one notices his particular empathy with creatures and the environment in the album. Indeed, on songs like The Lazy Frog, he tells of a grasshopper who tells off a man concerned about his thinning hair to worry instead about the mountains "which are no longer green." In the same song, a turtle happily composing a song is snatched and "made into turtle soup," her shell becoming a wall ornament.

Affected by what he sees, Roxlee seeks refuge in his art, transporting him into a more innocent state where he displays an infant’s relish at rolling words off his tongue — most evident in the nonsensical Kyutikyuti with its couplet: " Mga bulate ni kyutikyuti, pwedeng gawin spaghetti." On Unang Kita (especially the second version which sounds like it was recorded in an asylum) Roxlee sings as if in mourning, the childlike melody crying to be let back into the security of the womb. Augmented by the artist’s art brut approach to guitar playing and the honest timbre of his voice, the songs become almost painful in their sparseness.

Anarchic and funny, the songs on "Ghost of Rocker Janis" have the power to disarm even the most jaded of souls, belonging to the rich tradition of Captain Beefheart’s Trout Mask Replica, Sun City Girls’ Horse Cock Phepner and Syd Barret’s Opel.

Not that it’s strictly for the art gallery crowd. Roxlee’s distinctive humor — a trademark of his visual work — is sure to force a smile on just about anybody albeit with a knowing wink. " Does my song make sense?" he asks at the close of Twin Mountain. "Nothing makes sense in this world. The only thing that makes sense is when you hear or smell your own fart."

Now that’s something to think about.

"Ghost of Rocker Janis" is available at Tower Records Makati and Alabang. You can also call 0917-8961975 or e-mail documento@kookoo.ph. Also, you can visit the website of documento records at www.documentagon.com. There are only a few copies left so you better hurry!

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Notes from Underground: Speaking of another Lee, Romeo Lee, UP icon and the man behind the Elvis concerts, told this columnist that the year’s most anticipated concert will happen on Dec. 13 at either the AS parking lot or at the North Wing of the UP Main Library. This year’s lineup includes Bing!, Ely Buendia’s new band The Mongols, Pan, Noel Cabangon, Tropical Depression, Blue Rats, Blue Jean Junkies, Session Road, Makiling Ensemble, Brew, Narda and, of course, Romeo Lee and the Brown Briefs. See ya there!

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Erratum: In last week’s column (Drawn to the Deep End), the line "The title track is one of the most harrowing musical journeys ever chronicled in local music, a tune no house band would play as the ferry sinks into the river Styx" should’ve read "Of all the emotions, fear is probably the most difficult to capture on a record. (Anger being the most abused these days in rock music while lust — not love — being a favorite in pop.) Yet upon listening to the three song E.P The Hand of Cain by gothic-rock purveyors Dominion one can’t escape the unmistakable dread that stains the songs. The title track is no doubt one of the most harrowing musical journeys ever chronicled in local music, the kind of tune the house band would play as the ferry sinks into the river Styx — its whisper-washed coda the perfect accompaniment to drowning in its abysmal depths."

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This column is looking for any vintage keyboard, analog like a Moog or anything with Roland Strings, or other ’70s or early ’80s keyboards. To give you a better idea, think of something what bands like Kraftwerk or Pulp use in their albums. If you have or know where to find the said items please contact the e-mail address below as soon as possible or call Rose Basilia at 0918-9121133/631-03-17 or 21.

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Send comments and reactions to: erwin_romulo@hotmail.com.