On Bamboo and scalpers

The last time I attended a concert was ages ago. Indeed, the last time I went to a proper concert dates to even further in the past than the last time I wrote something for the STAR. So when my towering cousin Mikey asked me if I wanted to watch Bamboo perform live at one of the Megamall cinemas, I nodded affirmative without a doubt. He also invited his pals from his village basketball team. Seven-thirty p.m. was the time we all agreed to meet at his place, and since the roads were cursed with overwhelmingly heavy traffic (EDSA was infested with cars of all sizes) my driver advised me to leave at 6:30 p.m. I left in quite a hurry, resulting in a very irate mother because I texted her my farewell instead of planting a goodbye kiss on her deserving cheek. I arrived at Mikey’s abode roughly three-quarters of an hour later, to find that none of his fellow ballers were there yet. Worse, some of them turned Indian and decided they couldn’t come at the last minute. After kicking Mikey’s ass in NBA Live 06 and assuring him that I could effortlessly do the same in real life, his friends started to trickle in. Only six of the 10 tickets were to be used, thanks to the Indians.
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When we got to the SM cinemas, Mikey was almost instantaneously and ruthlessly scammed out of two of his four extra tickets by a scalper. He sold them for the minuscule sum of P50 apiece. Later on, his explanation was that the guy needed the money more than he did, that he felt sorry for the guy for having to stand around just buying and selling tickets, making minimal profit. Alas, so much for the naïveté of youth. I kept track of the scalper, a short, stumpy, greasy excuse of a man, out of the corner of my eye. I watched him sell the two tickets to an unsuspecting couple. Upon my questioning, they revealed that they had purchased their tickets at P400 apiece, and that they thought it was a bargain. The line waiting to enter the movie house was terribly long, despite the tickets having reserved seats. Never before in my entire life had I attended a concert in a cinema, of all places, and so naturally I was interested in how if would turn out. More waiting, then we were in. Of course, the concert following Philippine time started a good 30 minutes late. The band kicked off the night with a solid rendition of their first big hit, Mr. Clay, to be followed up by FU, which for a moment I thought to be Hallelujah. There are certain portions of those two particular songs that are almost completely identical. I soon discovered the disadvantages of having a concert in a cinema. While the air conditioning was certainly welcome, the chairs confined almost everyone to sitting down. I didn’t expect them to perform Hinahanap-hanap Kita, one of Rivermaya’s biggest hits when Bamboo was still their lead singer, except that this version had a much louder electric guitar and drums. I didn’t really like their next song, True, because of the beat that was a bit too jazzy for my taste and the vocals didn’t compare to any of the other songs they performed that night. I wasn’t quite so surprised when they played Ulan, since he declared it a "blast from the past" before starting the song. Waiting in Vain had a great guitar solo, although their guitarist is no Eric Clapton. I couldn’t say much about War of Hearts and Minds. It was a very nondescript song. After the blandness of War of Hearts and Minds, Bamboo gave the audience a pleasant shock when he walked off the stage, into the crowd, and all the way up to the highest seats, with security guards trailing him. Mikey repeatedly screamed out things like "BAMBOO I LOVE YOU! HUBAD! HUBAD!" You get the picture. I don’t know the name of that song, but it had a wicked drum solo. I thought to myself that this drummer must be one of the best in the Philippines. Mikey said that if he ever started a band, he’d ask that guy to be his drummer. The crowd cheered the loudest for the next three songs, which were Much Has Been Said, Hallelujah, and Noypi. In fact, in my personal opinion, Hallelujah was the best song of the night. Inspiring vocals and a catchy tune, even though parts of it sound suspiciously like FU, were definitely the icing on the cake. During Noypi, the bassist was playing with such fervor that his guitar strap got disconnected, and he had to be assisted by one of those anonymous men in black that stand near the stage in case of such an event. Bamboo should have ended their concert with Noypi, but they didn’t, and fell victim to going out weak with a slow song like Masaya. Bamboo couldn’t seem to decide whether he wanted his earpiece on or not, as he kept taking it off and putting it back on. They performed Masaya well enough, but it was too slow for an explosive end to an explosive concert. In the end, Bamboo is probably one of the most talented Pinoy rock bands around at the moment, and they’re pretty damned good at performing too. If you buy one of their CDs, you’ll like it. But no matter how good they are on CD, they are without a doubt always better to hear live. They are simply that talented. Unless of course they’ve been secretly brainwashed by members of the JI and the Al-Qaeda, and their mission is to become so godlike in the music world that the US president himself will want to meet them, then that’s when they’ll garrote him with their guitar strings and beat him to death with drumsticks. Of course, my theory might not be entirely accurate, so I wouldn’t suggest that you base any assumptions on it.
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E-mail me at ifyoudonteatyoulldie@yahoo.com. Also, in case people are wondering why I’ve turned down 41 friendster invites in my e-mail, it’s because I simply don’t have a friendster account.

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