No need for walruses: Sugarfree live!
Having a backup orchestra is to rock bands what wigs are to bald men: unnecessary, ridiculous and — more likely than not — atrocious. Following a template set by the Beatles in the 1960s, many a pop group — and even a thrash metal outfit like Metallica — have decided it to be a sign of maturity and growth to hire an orchestra, perhaps to validate their “stature” as musicians. (No one is delusional enough to think or believe that the combination of classical music and rock ‘n’ roll these days is even remotely revolutionary — like, wow, roll over Beethoven!) Usually, though, it only demonstrates hubris. Or worse, hippie bulls**t.
(Despite featuring possibly their greatest songs, i.e. A Day in the Life, I Am The Walrus, both the Beatles’ “Sgt. Pepper” and “Magical Mystery Tour” are ponderous and overindulgent — whatever merit those songs have is a testament to the band’s songwriting more than their methods. They would spend the rest of their careers cutting fat.)
With this in mind, one can understand this writer’s trepidation upon learning that Sugarfree would be playing with the 33-piece Manila Symphony Orchestra for their first major concert of the year. Billed as “Sugarfree Live!” the concert at the
To be fair, the trio does seem to be one of only two mainstream musical acts in the country where the addition of an orchestra doesn’t strike one as a recipe for disaster — but for reasons totally different from each other. (The other band is The Itchyworms.) Why? For the simple reason that Sugarfree’s songs do have an inherent drama in them, and given enough imagination and epic sense in the orchestration, Ebe Dancel’s soliloquies could achieve almost Shakespearean gravity. (On the other hand, the madcap grandeur and myriad silliness of the ‘worms would lend itself nicely to Grand Guignol.)
It could work — but chances from the outset didn’t look good.
Why? Because Dancel is no actor and neither are the other band members. It’s apparent to anyone who’s seen them that the experience of performing is as personal to the band as it certainly is for their audience. Like Dancel, both bassist Jal Taguibo and drummer Kaka Quisumbing play with a minimum of artifice and — at their best — nothing but heart. Between the three of them, the balance is already almost always easily upset. It’s this fragile aspect that lends an edge to their songs. In fact, the best compliment one can pay the band is that each performance could fall apart quite easily.
How this could possibly be improved upon is hard to imagine. It’s easier to imagine the fragile virtues of the band’s arrangements being smothered by orchestral excess and overzealousness on the part of the added players.
Before the start of the concert, black-and-white, slow-mo footage of the band getting ready backstage (oddly reminiscent of Bon Jovi’s video for their single Dead or Alive) was shown on the screens placed on each side of the stage. Then, the three members of Sugarfree walked onstage as the orchestra played strains of King and Queen of Hearts and quickly launched into Prom. The nod to David Pomeranz’s ‘80s mirror-ball slow-dance classic was as good as a wink to those who appreciated the humor.
The night had many other highlights. The band all picking up acoustic guitars to play Tulog Na from their second album “Dramamachine,” beginning with guitar solos from both Quisumbing and Taguibo; playing Huling Gabi and Unang Araw back-to-back; and a still majestic Burnout. The band also did three encore numbers including their cover of the Apo Hiking Society’s Batang Bata Ka Pa and (to everyone’s surprise) Jimmy Antiporda’s theme to Panday. (A favorite for many fans that night was the band’s cover of Ben Fold’s Still Fighting.) The concert closed with Sugarfree playing their hit Dear Kuya from their latest album “Tala-Arawan.”
Overall, the concert was a success but it did prove that having an orchestra is unnecessary. Despite being competent, it was obvious that the arrangements by Chino David served only to gloss rather than enhance the band’s music. If anything, they hardly mattered. What was proven, though, was that the three musicians in the band are quite enough.
From where we were sitting, we actually could hardly hear anything but the three of them anyway — the bass playing of Taguibo in particular really stood out as exceptional in keeping the musical dynamic of the songs fluid and coherent while Quisumbing subsequently drove and held together the whole operation. But most of all, the greatest single instrument that night was Dancel’s voice. Truly remarkable and unique, it evokes and inspires passion.
What’s best about this is that one can enjoy this experience anywhere. No jacket required.
