‘Akupangktyur, sayawan at tuksuhan’: The revolution according to Khavn

The revolution won’t be heard on Spotify, neither can it be seen or viewed on YouTube or TikTok. This is what the poet musician Khavn and his Bagumbayan All-Stars are well aware of, but it doesn’t stop them from hoisting their brand of rebellion and anarchy on streaming platforms, however occasionally tongue-in-cheek.

“Akupangktyur, mga sayawan at tuksuhan” is by no means easy listening, in fact, rather difficult to get through, as it holds the cracked mirror of damaged culture to the faces of Pinoy listeners, if we be allowed to presently mix metaphors. It may come off as sloganeering in these most troubling of times, with nothing to say that our damaged culturati don’t already know, but trust the All-Stars to drive the point home and twist the knife for the sake of it: a society of bribe givers and takers, politicos dancing budots while siphoning off the people’s money, political families as dynasties entrenched in power for decades, extrajudicial killings just around the corner, prioritizing bullets over rice, any hope of redemption a mere mirage if existent at all even as mirage.

Funny thing is Khavn doesn’t let up on his hyper mode through the entire program, musical influences owing as much to the dance hall plaza sound systems during fiesta weekends as to the endless loop of Stars on 45 heard on inter-island boats well into the night, when the canteens and mess halls are all cleared up for marathon karaoke.

For the record, I asked Khavn who exactly comprised the Bagumbayan All-Stars, and he replied, “Mga alaga kong AI ang mga kumanta ng mga komposisyon ko.”

Well, you never know if the composer is serious or maybe pulling your leg, but there could be truth to the statement. In the age of AI, artificial intelligence may be the best weapon against the establishment.

What splendid AI did the vocals for Maharlika Dreams, tipping the hat to how we’ll always be together in electric dreams, only this time with the Filipino taxpayer left holding the bag after being bilked yet again.

Or Demolisyon Blues, which mimics the sound of a wrecking machine headed straight for informal settlers, with chords grating like metal on asphalt.

Golden Age again posits the ironic conundrum that martial law was such an era of Camelot, only to realize it is like waking up from one nightmare into another, from the frying pan to the fire of possible Dutertismo resurgence.

Jeep-Jeep pays tribute to the threatened mode of traditional Filipino transportation, the slow easing out of a cultural artifact in the name of modernization. It probably does the Juan dela Cruz anthem one better by saying here is nowhere to go, everybody stranded in the modern world.

In Dagat-Dagatan, the age-old controversy of sovereignty and nine-dash lines takes stage center, resulting in declining fish catch.

Trust the musician who also happens to be a novelist to rework the old ditty about a police hiding beneath the bridge for some delihencia for merienda by victimizing unwary motorists committing some imagined infraction, of course, all the while teasingly and dancingly. Just have to go with the beat of the corrupt, Kurakot, with a smile on one’s face.

Obviously, there’s more where that came from, because Khavn wears different hats and has different bands, including one where he branches out on the kundiman and another exploring freeform jazz that is practically unlistenable, almost like riding an escalator over the hill (Free Jazz Not Dead).

A lot of frenetic fist waving does not a satisfying album make, and if it’s music you want, you may be better off listening to Gloc-9 or Superego, that neo-house and acid jazz band from down under featuring the late painter Alwin Reamillo’s son Kaprou Lea on saxophones.

Still, “Akupangktyur” serves its purpose, the same with slow cinema off the beaten track, or much like “Balangiga: Howling Wilderness,” the director-musician’s take on hell’s bells that upset conservative society pre-pandemic, but now streaming on Netflix, where the revolution will never happen.