So you’re out on a Wednesday night: speeding through the streets of Quezon City, Mexican fare from a late-night dinner settling in your gut, your curiosity tingled by the texted promise of a gig lineup that features “a solo act, a duo, a trio, a quartet, and a quintet” — in that order. Sounds gimmicky, yes, but you know at least three of the acts who are playing, and you know that they will not disappoint, or at least not be soul-killingly bad.
The gig is at a gallery that used to be on Maginhawa Street, but which has since moved to somewhere off Kamuning: a place called Green Papaya. You have trouble finding it. This is at least partially due to its being tucked fairly nondescriptly beside a furniture store, without any sort of sign, handmade or otherwise, with the words Green and Papaya on it to indicate that this is, indeed, the place: almost as if the owners want to keep it a secret, and maybe in a sense they do. Maybe they’d rather you were in the know — or at least on foot.
Unlike almost every other gig place you’ve been to recently, you are not accosted by wait staff waving menus in your face. In fact, absolutely nobody at any time through the rest of the night will ask you what you want, presumably out of sheer disinterest in your money or your comfort (or the lack thereof). Since you are still full from dinner, this is a refreshing state of affairs. And besides, this is an “artist-run initiative,” not, you know, a bar as such. Though there does seem to be a lot of liquor everywhere.
The first act is so ‘90s it hurts. Solo singer/songwriter, accompanying himself on acoustic guitar, delivering such earnest fare as The Beautiful and The Broken, which seems to be about every famous tortured artist ever, from Van Gogh to Cobain.
The second act, if you’re honest, is really what you came here for: the brother-sister duo Outerhope, whose second album, “A Day for the Absent,” came out late last year and quickly and quietly made a name for itself as perhaps the best release of 2009. Beautiful songs, beautifully performed, replete with smart and deeply heartfelt lyrics and lovely harmonies—they play with shy authority and utter charm.
The third act is the reason for this whole event: The Sleepyheads. This is the second leg of the launch of their sophomore effort, “Malnutrition of Love.” Lead singer Jayvee del Rosario helpfully explains that this March 10 gig is “for the artsy crowd.” He sings and plays drums standing up, and if you were younger you would think to yourself “That’s what I want to do when I grow up.” Their songs are blasts of energy and irreverence, always over before they wear out their welcome, always giving a little shock to your system. Aside from their originals they do songs by the Velvet Underground and The Replacements and that seems appropriate.
The Late Isabel is the quartet. They are a pleasure to watch, aside from the drummer who gives you a headache and makes you wish for more subtlety to suit their mix of the dark and dreamlike, the playful and the passionate. Lead singer Wawi Navarroza’s finely-honed sense of theatricality informs every minute of her performance, and it all makes you look forward to the upcoming follow-up to their debut album.
You don’t stick around for the quintet (a band called Tether, apparently), but you’ve seen enough to reinforce your idea that this is, indeed, a great time to be a music fan. With the money and hype of the mid-2000s drained away, the survivors tend to be acts that are in it for the love of it, who have less motivation to stick to any sort of established formula, who are constantly improving their songwriting and performances and thus keeping their music fresh. New acts denied the typical rock star dreams will dream something better: quite simply, to make music that truly satisfies themselves.
FURTHER LISTENING: Download the utterly wonderful songs Lost in Numbers and Twenty Years from outerhope.com. Sample the Sleepyheads at myspace.com/sleepyheadsph. Listen to Isabel at myspace.com/thelateisabelofficial.