Lipstick traces

Reading the discussion about the merits of certain local films in an online forum, the question was asked, "When is it an homage and when is it a rip-off?" If memory serves correctly, the movie in question at the time was Gil Portes’ Munting Tinig, which, some commentators quipped, bore a resemblance to other foreign films belonging to the same "art-house" ghetto. The debate got heated; and the arguments soon became muddled with each posting – any moment it seemed that entire résumés, college degrees and filmographies would be posted alongside the opinions just to add weight to the arguments. Of course, the silliness was abruptly halted when someone defined the difference as thus: "It’s an homage when it’s good; it’s a rip-off when it sucks." After that, it was settled.

Rivermaya’s "Iisang Ugat, Iisang Dugo" is – save for its current single and opening track Isang Bandila – a collection of songs from the 1980s by local bands that laid the groundwork for Pinoy Rock in the ’90s. Largely forgotten and consigned as obsolete cassette tapes in the drawers of aging punks, the vital and important music from that tumultuous era was the one thing that nostalgia has left almost untouched. If anything, the fashion is the only thing that pop culture since has inherited and filched from. Even then – after the alternative exorcisms and adoption of the "anti-image" in the early ’90s music scene – the nod to the period dress sense was only possible because our hipsters affected irony and a smidgen of camp. Luckily, it seems that Rico Blanco and the rest of Rivermaya are not as hip as they used to be.

For one thing, despite everything, both the original creators and the current players played the music on this album in earnest. How else can you explain why the artists with featured songs on the album manage to write, play and –if they were lucky – record the kind of music they did? (It was the ’80s and – with no disrespect to Binky Lampano – it wasn’t that the scene was complicated; it was just simply goddamn tough.) Consequently, aside from contractual obligations, why else would a successful band with their own bona fide songwriter in Blanco go to the trouble of finding, recording and playing music that most of their fans might not feel anything for? However trite it may sound to post-modern ears, the answer is without a doubt a genuine affection for the material.

The selection is decidedly diverse; and may seem to some pundits as questionable. But the band has made no secret that this album is a personal undertaking – especially for Blanco who was one of the faithful who undid hangers to catch the signal of XB. According to their manager, notable omissions like No Future sa Pader by Urban Bandits were recorded but due to circumstances beyond the band’s control could not be included on the album. (For "alternative" suggestions, check out the current feature on the album in the new issue of Maxim Philippines.) But the band plays with so much conviction and respect for the originals that the music wins one over. It brings a wry smile when one notices that the band went so far as to emulate the sound of the EQ of the original recordings; or – as some have noted – even the mistakes of the original musicians in spots.

But if there is only one song to get this album for, it’s for The Ethnic Faces’ Golden Boy. Written by the legendary Jack Sikat and played by one of the greatest Filipino bands of the last century, it remains as rousing as ever, a shard of beauty. Rivermaya measure up to the challenge set by the song’s deceptively simple arrangement, and play quite well with unmistakable bravado.

But even with no prior acquaintance, the songs stand up. For one, who knows where Blanco and the boys managed to dig up a copy of The Jerks’ Romantic Kill when no known recording is said to exist? Does it deserve its reputation? You bet.

Though the originals will remain superior – even by Blanco’s own admission – "Iisang Ugat, Iisang Dugo" is much more than the next best thing. Compiled as they are, we are given a secret history of our ’80s – a peek inside the restroom cubicles where furtive f**ks occur just before the revolution. Listening to the album, another side of that time comes alive, each song a lipstick kiss on the mirror from which we view ourselves.

If we were to test against the criteria stated in the first paragraph, then clearly Rivermaya has done their forerunners justice and this generation a service.

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Despite having a girly name, Andrea Camilleri is one of Italy’s most popular authors of crime fiction. Although he started out writing historical novels he found fame with the exploits of his detective named Montalbano. When he’s not solving crimes in the fictional city of Vigàta, his great passion is food with a particular fondness for seafood. The Dante Alighieri Society (yep, after the guy who settles scores by consigning those who vex him to hell) and the Italian Embassy presents… "Lunch with Montalbano: Intersections Between Food and Crime In Camilleri’s Detective Stories." Dr. Piera Carroli (organizer, Italian Studies Program, Australian National University) talks about Camilleri’s detective stories, highlighting the relationship between Montalbano and food. Have a taste of Sicilian specialties like arancini and cannoli from Enoteca Galileo and L’Incontro restaurants before you watch The Goldfinch and the Cat at Fully Booked Rockwell. Hey, it’s an offer you can’t refuse! See fullybookedonline for the details and schedule.

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Thanks to Je Bautista. The article’s title is filched from Greil Marcus’ book of the same name. Nope, haven’t finished that one yet. Still more than a hundred pages to go. Bought it in 1994, though.