Bea "Queen Bee" Jacinto continues the radio legacy, more or less, of her father Ramon "RJ" Jacinto, with her radio concept "The Hive" on 100.3 FM (the old RJ-FM station), which issued a commemorative CD recently. Hive Nation (Warner Phils.), which is not for sale, has tracks from various artists representing the less execrable songs from the usual current top 40.
An old rock jock of the Sta. Mesa vintage dzRJ, known then as The Rock of Manila, however noted that the station reached its peak of popularity during the mid to late ’70s, when in fact RJ was somewhere in exile.
Those were the days and nights of The Rock and Roll Machine, anchored by Cousin Hoagy and the Madman, whose playlist included Derek and the Dominoes, Frank Zappa, the Band, Mahavishnu Orchestra –of course leagues apart from what the Hive, as evidenced in the CD sampler, has to offer.
On the other hand, the Hive obviously caters to a safer, admittedly yuppie market, and not necessarily the hardcore insomniacs and blues fiends that were the regular patrons of the 11 p.m. to 2 a.m. Rock and Roll Machine.
The cuts on the commemorative CD are a fairly good indication of where Philippine pop radio is at the moment: still sifting through the dregs of the commercial quagmire to try and retrieve some three- to four-minute wonders.
So the Hive has music by Kid Rock, Red Hot Chili Peppers, the Corrs, Cibo Matto, Tracy Chapman, among others. This makes the spawn of the Rock closer in spirit to the daytime programming of the old dzRJ, where in the space of an hour or two, you could hear the same song played three times: in those days, it was Wet Willie, Rufus, Maria Muldaur, Gino Vanelli, and Atlanta Rhythm Section.
To be fair, dzRJ wasn’t the only one guilty of this "payola malaise," because some stations had it worse. And neither can we say that Hive has the monopoly when it comes to playing the hits that are on their CD; the song by Kid Rock, for instance, was played ad nauseam over NU 107. No one, I guess, is exempt from the malaise.
As with other CDs comprised of various artists, the Hive’s commemorative disc is somewhat uneven, but at least helps give exposure to the lesser known acts, like Cibo Matto, the Japanese-American band that features Sean Lennon.
You won’t find that out in the liner notes, which is why some limited spiels to introduce each cut, or after a clutch of cuts, would do wonders, and thus make it sound like a regular radio program.
This has been done before, where on-the-air usap-usap remains unedited in the final press, the better to preserve the ambience. It may indeed sound precious at times, but it serves its purpose of saving for posterity this particular station’s programming.
Taken as a whole, though, the CD best reflects the state of local radio programming. And as with everything that comes out of that dial, you can’t believe everything you hear.
As with all media too there is a lot of hype involved. We remember the old dzRJ "contest" that had listeners calling in to vote on who they thought was better, Elvis Presley or the Beatles. The Hive recently also came out with a similar survey, this time pitting Carlos Santana against Eric Clapton.
The latter run-off even had an accompanying concert featuring local bands playing songs of the two guitar titans. Days before that event at another historic parking lot along Pasong Tamo (again echoing the parking lot concerts in old Sta. Mesa), Nitoy Adriano of the Jerks, one of the bands slated to play, lamented that he knew no Santana tune on his vintage ’68 Fender Stra-tocaster.
But going back to Hive Nation, it’s possible that you can count on the fingers of one hand the performers here that will outlast even the Hive. Tracy Chapman and her Telling Stories could be one of them. Ditto Paula Cole. Red Hot Chili Peppers, with its compelling song Scar Tissue, might be a borderline case. Same with the Stone Temple Pilots.
In the end the commemorative disc, as souvenir items go, shouldn’t be taken for more than what it is: a package of radio-friendly songs which you can do without, but which after repeated listenings can hold their own in the future archives of pop history.
Would that the likes of Little Rock and Brother Becky had released a compilation that had Midnight on the Oasis, Thorntree in the Garden or even Do it or Die on it; then again there were no CDs in the old days.