What a wicked thing to do…

For you. You know who you are…

The world was on fire
No one could save me but you
Strange what desire will make foolish people do
I never dreamed that I’d meet somebody like you
And I never dreamed that I’d lose somebody like you

No, I don’t want to fall in love
[This love is only gonna break your heart]
With you

What a wicked game you play
To make me feel this way
What a wicked thing to do
To make me dream of you

Wicked Game by Chris Isaak, MTV Unplugged

Dream Journal: The Very Best of True Faith 1993 – 2007

I am certainly a Faithfool. I was in high school when my love affair with True Faith’s music began (which pretty much tells you that I’m not really that young anymore, haha). My older brother would play “Perfect“ in our trusty cassette player over and over again till our eardrums bled, so it pretty much stuck in my sponge-like adolescent memory bank. The first True Faith album that I purchased was “Build,” where I fell hopelessly in love with “Baliw.” I was in freshman college then.

 Those in my age group witnessed the rise-and-fall-and-rise again of the band’s career. There was a time when the band was practically everywhere, and a time when their gigs picked up minimal interest (I think this was when majority of the original members left and Medwin Marfil was left to recruit new ones in order to save the band, correct me if I’m wrong). My heart broke for them when they had a gig at some carpark and the show was described as nilangaw, for a lack of a better term. This was before the recent resurrection of the Pinoy band music scene, a time when R&B was all the rage. But of course, us Faithfools did not give a shit. Nothing can’t quite compare to the sleek, one-of-a-kind voice that is Medwin Marfil. Listen, we don’t care if Medwin is not some six-foot tall hunk who can make the girls scream and throw their panties at him just by appearing onstage and make pa-cute. His voice is a fucking serenade enough to make us cream at first note, and that’s all that matters.

 Bitter history aside, True Faith made up for lost time when they won the Video of the Year award at the MTV Philippines Music Awards in 2000. Suddenly, True Faith has risen again.

 So I was beside myself when this very best album was released just recently. Of course, True Faith already came out with their first compilation, “Memories are Cheap: The Best of True Faith 1993 – 2000″, which I got in pirated version (sorry guys, no budget for original CDs back then, hehe). But this latest “the best” album contains their more recent hits, so it makes sense to buy it. And of course I did. An original copy, I might add.

 For 299 bucks, the 2-CD album is definitely a major steal. Practically the best stuff is here, from the old school hits like “Perfect,” “Ambon,” and “Sa Puso Ko” to more recent gems such as “Sumasarap ang Gising” and the Culture Club original “Mistake Number 3.” Personally, I loathe remakes. All these covers of foreign songs are proof enough that the local music industry is in the dumps and artists today are way, way less talented than their predecessors, but “Mistake Number 3″ is an exception. The perfection that is Medwin’s voice just fucking owned the song.

 Just so this entry won’t sound like an orgasmic, biased tribute from a frustrated groupie, I have to say that I’m not so keen on the cover of “Cross My Heart,” a classic from Everything But The Girl. As sublime as Medwin’s voice is, I’m not so sure if it’s right for the track. It is one of those songs that can’t be brought to justice by a male. It is hard to replicate the beautiful, haunting quality that Tracey Thorn brought to the song. It’s not that bad though, majority of the Faithfools will even love it, I think. Let’s just say, if it was sung by another male singer aside from Medwin, it would have been a disaster.

 Just the same, “The Very Best of True Faith” deserves a rightful place in your original CD collection, alongside your copy of “The Eraserheads Anthology” (NOT the putrid piece of trash that is the “Ultraelectromagneticjam,” please).

on ultraelectromagneticjam

A

As soon as I heard that there is a mass revival of the original songs of the Eraserheads, I went over my head just to hear the latest rehash of the songs of my favorite pinoy band.

I’m so sorry, but the revivals totally sucked. I mean, what on earth were they thinking?!?! Do the execs who produced this shit know that anything that comes from the Eraserheads should NEVER be mishandled, lest they risk the ire of the band’s legions of fans?

I was incensed, because most of the songs revived for “Ultraelectromagneticjam” failed big time to live up to the original versions. Ok, no one can really measure up to the Heads themselves, but they should have, at the very least, presented a competent revival of the songs.

The worthy ones:

The covers are mostly trash except for a notable few, who creatively reworked the songs and made it their own (well, almost). Hands up for Radioactive Sago Project, whose rendition of “Alkohol” was the best thing I’ve heard from this compilation. Lourd de Veyra and his crew successfully fused their jazzy, funky musical style with the song. Never mind if Lourd droned instead of sung the lyrics, the outcome was lively, original and fabulous.

I also liked Francis M’s take on “Superproxy.” This song is one of my favorites from the “Cutterpillow” album. The decision to turn the latter part of the song into rap was a very smart one, and who else is more qualified to deliver ‘em rap lines than the original Pinoy rapper? Francis M rapped the song in an all-Filipino manner, with none of those “yo nigga!” attitude that recent hip-hop rappers try so hard to emulate (with no success at all)

I am not a fan of Kitchie Nadal, but surprisingly, I liked her version of “Ligaya.” The song was originally intended to be a man’s song for his “ginigiliw,” but one cannot help but get amused when a woman sings the song. If you know the lyrics of “Ligaya” by heart, you’ll get what I’m trying to say here.

The ho-hum versions:

“Pare ko” was the Eraserheads “flagship” song. Heck, it was a national anthem for uh, jilted lovers everywhere. It’s only natural that the song should be revived in the grandest manner possible, but what did we get? A disappointment. Sponge Cola’s take on the Heads classic is…well, its not bad, but its incredibly boring. Totally unremarkable. Remember how Ely Buendia did this song with all the angst and frustration of someone na “nagmukhang tanga at pinaasa?” without sounding too dramatic and mushy about it? The original was right on target, and also funny and witty at the same time. Sponge Cola is not fit to wipe Ely’s Converse sneakers.

Same goes to Cueshe and 6 Cycle mind, who did “Hard to Believe” and “Alapaap” respectively.

“With a Smile,” by Southborder is also that…just Ok. It’s easy on the ears, but terribly uninspiring. If it weren’t for Jay Durias’ gorgeous vocals, the song would have been depressingly flat.

Now the focus of my visceral anger: Who the fuck is responsible for putting in Barbie Almalbis for “Overdrive?” Have they run out of better singers? Her version is a total crap. I was on my way to the Fort when I first heard this version, and I remember wishing at that moment to kick Barbie in the ass.

I’ll do this in Tagalog: Putangina, napaka-lamya kumanta, pwede ba? Barbie is an ok songwriter, but her singing skills are totally overrated. One only needs to turn up the volume of the sound system and Barbie’s vocals will eat dust. She has this knack of turning every song into a cutesy-patootsy lullaby, sure, it may have worked for her boring acoustics songs, but never, NEVER do that to an Eraserheads original.

The song goes, “Magdri-drive ako hanggang Bicol…”

Hello. Eh baka kahit hanggang kanto lang nya di nya kaya mag-drive sa sobrang lamya nya. Gets?

And what’s a weakling like Paolo Santos doing with “Magasin,” a certified Heads hit? Dull, dull, dull!

What about Brownman Revival’s “Maling Akala?” One word: Ghastly. The reggae thing is a nice touch, but the way it was sung? Forget it. Yung lead vocalist, parang yung mga tambay na umaatungal sa kanto.

Shit.