Good Times

I wasn’t there at the Eraserheads’ reunion concert, but my sister Kai, her husband Sean, and a lot of friends were. Right from the onset, and despite my excitement over the idea, I didn’t plan on going, for three reasons. First, the original sponsor was a tobacco company, and while I did go to their website many times, I just couldn’t bring myself to sign up because I’m a recovering smoker. Second, I totally hate crowds. Turning older has only made me abhor them more, thereby ruining any experience (excepting miraculous events and rallies, maybe) that involve having to make my way through them. Third, it seemed to me that the Eraserheads hadn’t really patched things up, so the ghost of the ‘90’s fangirl in me just didn’t want to risk seeing them not gel this time.

That didn’t stop me from informing friends and family where to get their tickets as the news changed. And that didn’t stop me from keeping myself posted with all the online updates popping over the blogosphere and the Plurkosphere. Some bloggers really took posting about the event, from rumored conception to end, to heart so it was like I was there too. Or maybe not—because I heard that a lot of those who went couldn’t help get teary-eyed or started sobbing, even, as they sang along to old songs from good times.

My sister texted me when the concert was cut short. I’m sure you’ve all heard about it by now: Ely collapsed during the break and had to be rushed to the hospital. Two days earlier, his mother had died unexpectedly, so he was under a lot of emotional stress. The night before the concert, they’d stayed up till 3 am, doing sound check, so he was also under physical stress. I had hoped for the best, but I wasn’t entirely surprised his body gave out. He’s stable now, thank God. There’s still the second set!

There’s no denying the influence of the Eraserheads on many people who grew up in the ‘90s. Needless to say, the concert stirred a collective recollection almost saturating cyberspace. My friends have their own stories too. Paul Catiang, a good old friend from college, remembers how, “At the UP Quill tambayan, my orgmates would sing ‘Pare Ko’ (with matching malutong na “Diba, tang-ina!”) loud enough to be heard up and down that row of tambayans.”

Lorie Santos-Cruz, another college friend, asks, “Do you remember that night we went to Ely Buendia’s house in UP Village?” She then continues, “I can’t remember why we were there. I just remember my horribly embarrassing fangirl antics at the gate (I think I was acting out what not to do at the actual encounter), and how we found out after we entered the house that there was a camera for screening visitors.”

Another college friend, Aldus Santos, who’s now the singer of indie band Purplechickens (they have two albums out already, Here’s Plan B and Girls, Etc.) recalls how he first met the Eraserheads: “In college—maybe 1998 or 1999—I was invited to be part of a discussion panel about pop culture. I was representing UP Quill along with Jim Ponce, I think. Edru Abraham was there, and maybe Gary Granada. Pepe Smith, too, though I might be wrong. The highlight of the panel for the kids was, however, the Eraserheads.” From this, to another exchange, years later: “Ely Buendia: Ang ganda ng album niyo, pare. Pinapakinggan ko kagabi. ‘Yung lyrics, iba. Galing mong mag-lyrics. Nagpo-poetry ka ba?” Aldus Santos: Oo. Maglalabas ako ng libro, actually (Vocalese, 2006). Ely: It shows. Aldus: Astig, astig. Salamat, salamat.”

I was sixteen years old when a classmate and I ambushed them at the Broadway Centrum parking lot for a “fake” school interview. I was seventeen when I decided to ditch the UP freshman orientation in which they were playing at UP to drink beer at a hole in the wall for my own “personalized” orientation. I was nineteen when I went to Mayric’s for a gig and then stalked them and pretended to be a none-fan as they had dinner nearby. I was twenty when I went, with some friends, to Ely’s house and acted like a total geek. We left his house that night, giggling hysterically and moving on to our cheap, regular haunts.

One blogger who calls himself OneTamad wrote about the concert at indolentindio.com: “For a few minutes, at least, we weren’t wage slaves with bills to pay and work on Monday, we were whoever we were when we first heard the E-heads: full of hope and grab-the-world-by-the-balls spunk, full of love that could be captured by silly lyrics and simple chord progressions.”

Good times, good times.

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