All apologies

Although probably an overstatement, it’s almost inconceivable for any "martial law baby" to remember growing up in the years leading up the first EDSA revolt without any of their memories playing to the tune of the APO Hiking Society. Of course, anyone with a TV set post-EDSA will know the inimitable trio of Danny Javier, Jim Paredes and Buboy Garovillo but I doubt if their impressions will be as potent as those who heard them on the radio while APO was still around – especially perhaps those of us whose parents opposed his regime. It was a heady time and everything seemed uncertain… then you had something like Batang Bata Ka Pa with that crazy Moog oscillating on the radio; or American Junk with Pidro singing about Uncle Sam’s garbage. It didn’t seem sensible: a UFO going off in the background of a poignant ballad or Javier mimicking the accent of our family driver’s on Penthouse Live. But, perhaps because of the times, it somehow did.

Of course, though the times have seemingly changed, the APO’s music is no less gorgeous or affecting. In fact, it isn’t even correct to say that the songs have aged well because in many respects they haven’t aged at all. Pumapatak Ang Ulan is still the ultimate ode to boredom. (Reportedly, Javier wrote it while the group was in Baguio for the filming of Mike De Leon’s Kung Mangarap Ka’t Magising. Before recording, he supposedly changed the original lyric, having the protagonist ingesting beer instead of valium.) Blue Jeans is still very much relevant on most campuses even if the universities are admittedly less fun than the one in the Joey Gosengfiao movie. (According to the lothario next door, however, it has gotten a lot easier to love somebody else’s girlfriend these days and – quite frankly – get away with it.)

The release of the tribute compilation "Kami nAPO Muna" is unsurprisingly welcome. Featuring a selection across a wide spectrum of current Filipino pop, it seemed very clever and ambitious in concept, combining the commercially viable with the slightly off-kilter. Artists invited to take part in the album include Sugarfree, Imago, Sandwich, Orange and Lemons, Parokya ni Edgar, Top Suzara, Drip, Boldstar, Kamikazee, Sponge Cola, Kitchie Nadal, Shamrock and Barbie Almalbis to name a few. No doubt the effort involved was immense. According to the album’s producer and chief instigator Kerwin Rosete, it took about a year to complete even if there was no shortage of artists eager to have a shot at remaking any of the classic tunes in the APO’s considerable discography. The challenge for the producers and the musicians who took part in the album was simple: Don’t f**k up.

For the most part, the successes of the tribute boiled down to an artist’s understanding and willingness to tackle the material in a way that didn’t diminish their integrity or the original’s. Unsurprisingly, both The Itchyworms and Orange and Lemons did very well: the former’s take on Awit Ng Barkada did not only benefit from the group’s penchant for great arrangement and musicianship but rather the empathy they brought to the song; while the latter played Yakap Sa Dilim effortlessly and with a whole lot of lascivious swagger. Rocksteddy’s rendition of Blue Jeans paid tribute to the spirit of the original by upping the urgency a notch – perhaps an increment the approximate size of an amphetamine tablet.

Yet the best cuts on the record are by the groups who made the material their own. Electronic act Drip’s reworking of Kabilugan Ng Buwan is deliciously upbeat and well-crafted, bringing the now quaint and almost tame sensuality of the Danny Javier composition to the less sexually inhibited lounges of today. Boldstar’s decidedly "indie" take on Kumot At Unan plays up the charm and naïveté of both the lyric and melody so that it becomes more comforting than a thumbsuck. Doo bidoo by Kamikazee makes Javier’s inspired ditty about songwriting into a raucous, over-the-top rant that was probably sung that way because of too much of a certain inspiration. However, the best rendition was arguably Sound’s dismantling of the Gary V. hit, Di Na Natuto that – although almost unrecognizable in this form – heightens the frustration and painful longing only hinted at before in previous versions.

On the downside though, the album does falter in spots – although these seem to be due to mere lapses in judgment more than anything else. Imago’s Ewan loses much more than it gains by choosing to play the song in standard 4/4 time. Gone completely are any of the subtle giddiness and uncertainty implied in the lyric. Coupled with the added players, it sounds a bit too coy – especially for a band that is at its best injecting an infectious, nervous edge to even out the catchy sweetness of their own repertoire. Also, Barbie Almalbis’s cover of When I Met You just falls flat with neither the alternative arrangement nor her voice suiting the song. Probably due to the fact that these artists are better suited to performing their own material, they simply miscalculated, failing to grasp the essence of the original. The result being is that they neither make it their own nor pay tribute.

As a whole, "Kami nAPO Muna" is far superior to last year’s tribute compilation to the Eraserheads. Unlike the latter, it is evident that much more daring and attention went into choosing the roster of interpreters for this album. Also, every one of the artists playing on this one deserve their chance to pay respect to one of the greatest Filipino groups of all time. Perhaps the greatest tribute to the APO might be that, no matter how good the current crop of OPM practitioners are, it still isn’t easier following the old boys.

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Send e-mail to erwinromulo@yahoo.com.