MANILA, Philippines—Once upon a time, they were good friends, right?
They even sang about it, turning “Minsan” (from the “Circus” album) into an iconic anthem for old friendships—the times when they would bump into one another in a college dorm; spend nights under the full moon, hungry but happy; and, yes, even that time when they decided to part ways and leave yesterday behind (euphemism for artistic and professional differences).
That’s why when Eraserheads Ely Buendia (guitar/vocals), Buddy Zabala (bass), Marcus Adoro (lead guitar) and Raimund Marasigan (drums) sat together for possibly the first time without having to belt out a single tune, everybody craned their necks to catch a glimpse of that old bond.
Stage ‘too big’
The event was the press conference that launched the go-at-it-again reunion concert of the 1990s’ most influential Filipino band, the same one that launched the careers of a thousand failed copycats.
First time they did a get-together gig was last year, Aug. 30, at The Fort’s open grounds. That one—although it ended on a glum note, with Buendia rushed to the hospital after just 15 songs—drew close to 30,000 fans. (Concert co-producer Sony BMG’s estimate is closer to 50,000).
But for all the magic that left the audience in a suspended state of Neverland, one reality stood out. Despite a clamor from the people, there were no group hugs.
“We were never that kind of a band,” said Marasigan during the press con.
But couldn’t they have at least looked at each other to nod off the next song in the list?
“The stage was too big for us to interact with each other,” added the now Sandwich frontman.
(Note to Mall of Asia property managers: When the E-heads turn up on March 7 for the second reunion concert, make them perform on a fast-food counter.)
The repeat will not merely be a continuation of the first one, although Jazz Nicolas returning as the honorary fifth Eraserhead to play extra instruments needed may give that exact impression.
“It’s going to be a whole new thing,” said Zabala.
Like how?
“There will be group hugs,” said part-time surfer Adoro. “And we will play more than 15 songs. Maybe 16.”
At last. It was refreshing to see the E-heads laugh at one another’s stab at humor. Okay, reality check: They weren’t exactly finishing each other’s sentences. But they were catching each other’s punch lines.
For a band that seemed irrevocably divided not too long ago, that was a good start.
And so was this answer by Ely Buendia, when asked whether the band members will one day find themselves in the same recording studio, doing another Eraserheads album:
“That isn’t being planned. But then again, we also said we wouldn’t do reunion gigs, and yet here we are.”
Well, here they are, indeed. Barely seven months after that magical night, they’re ready to do it again. And here we are, hoping that the reason will be more about friendship and art rather than economics.
On second thought, a group hug may do more harm than good during the concert. An awkward pat on the back, a strained smile and a hurried look-away may transform the awaited magical moment into a show biz stunt more baffling than Bebe Gandanghari’s.
Executed sincerely, though, it may prove to be the highlight of an event that’s expected to last, according to Marasigan, three hours.
Tolerance level
“We can stand each other only for three hours,” he jested.
“Beyond that would be four,” Buddy Zabala said, smiling, “and that would be disastrous.”
While other people will be quick to strum the final chord on the band’s friendship by saying that jokes are half-meant, true-blue Eraserheads fans will fish out the band’s old “Circus” CD from the rack, fast-forward to the fifth track, listen to the last stanza and continue hoping that there will be a group hug on March 7.