Markus Highway visited

Attention: Ace Durano

Dear Mr. Secretary —

Or may I call you Ace? I think and feel that you’re rather more approachable than your predecessors. (Although I’ve never met former Sec. Mina Gabor nor do I really know anything at all about her really, I’ve always been intimidated by her name — too close to Hollywood diva Zsa Zsa Gabor; I’m afraid she might slap me.) Anyway, the point being that you seem to be nice guy — someone I can relate to and I suspect many more can, too. Also, you seem to be much more open and dynamic a personality and you seem to actually love what you’re doing. I’m not flattering you — again, this is all based on the fact that I believe you and can actually imagine having a drink with you on one of our beaches. (A tough job, I assure you, since I don’t drink and generally agree with one standup comic’s assertion that describe such places as “the place where dirt meets water.”) But, again, you seem to be that rare thing: a cool politician and one who actually loves his job.

But let me come to the point of all this. I’ve got to admit that a visit to your website left me thoroughly depressed. Not that I’m not used to it, though — the way we’ve presented ourselves as a tourist spot has struck me as being as phony and just as dull as the coffee-table books on “Filipinism” being promoted during Marcos’ Bagong Lipunan. Let’s face it: we’re never going to be nearly as exotic in comparison to even our Southeast Asian neighbors. (As shown by our cinema or literature, only our poverty will really pique their interests for the most part.) But hey, apart from Japan probably, we’re a helluva a lot cooler than any other Asian country that I know of. Serious.

(Interesting piece of trivia: If memory serves, in an interview with the Philippine STAR’s Scott and Therese Garceau, British author Alex Garland actually based his bestseller The Beach on an place in the Philippines but needed to transpose it to Thailand to be more familiar to backpackers — and, I suspect, because the locale seemed cooler and more “exotic” to White People.)

We are cooler. I’m now convinced of it. To prove my point, I submit the debut album of Markus Highway entitled “Behold, Rejoice! Surf Fernando is Here Nah!” Fronted by former Eraserhead Marcus Adoro (which, in itself, is cool enough) it’s got my vote as one of the best albums released this year. Driven by Adoro’s wry humor and his clever songwriting, it does invoke what no DOT-sponsored PR and ad campaign managed to convince us of: that it might just actually be fun to indulge in a bit of domestic tourism. The theme is explicit enough as Adoro is not one for subtlety. Yes, we should actually visit our country and avoid being a foreigner to our shores but all the stock footage shown on Channel 4 doesn’t look like places I’d like to go.

Since the breakup of the Eraserheads, Adoro has exiled himself from the music scene to surf the waves of La Union and, until recently, hasn’t really been back since. Most of the songs were written during this sojourn and resound with the rhythms of that locale. To my ears, it may be the first bona-fide Pinoy surf album — and it isn’t reggae or world either. (Though it does have a smattering of the two genres.) The songs are too loose and freewheeling to contain itself to any one genre. That’s as it should be, of course, since neither can really evoke the attitude or culture that’s grown up around these places.

Tracks like Bonfire and I Remember in particular successfully juggle strains of heavy metal, Elvis movies, Madchester freakouts and folk to name a few. The former is demented enough to evoke the madness and hedonism around these night gatherings while the latter slyly smuggles in the riff of Bob Marley’s Jammin’ in its stanzas without becoming a slave to the reggae musician’s influence. The centerpiece of the album, however, is Wow Kalabaw, which I strongly suggest the DOT adapt as its anthem. With lyrics exhorting everyone to take all modes of transport available to us, it asks and cajoles us with, “Ba’t di ka mamasyal sa bayan mo?” But rather than just the message, it’s the obvious glee that the band plays and Adoro sings with that’s difficult to resist. Or for the fact that it’s a great pop tune that has a chorus of “Wowow Kalabaw!” (Who hasn’t said or heard that remark anytime in their lives during out-of-town trips?)

Much like his former band’s music, there’s an ear here for colloquialisms and a manner and attitude that resounds with a majority of Filipinos, and that endears itself to listeners. It makes the message more truthful and believable than faux-reggae or “world”-tinged pop anthems. They try too hard.

Mr. Secretary — or Ace, if you will — how can we expect anyone to get excited by local tourism when a lot of us aren’t? Who can blame us when the only thing that’s actually left people riveted to tourist spots like Boracay is a blog condemning it? Adoro’s music comes from experience and a genuine affection for what he advocates. It’s a life that he’s clearly committed to and enjoys. And, although others may be as enthusiastic, it never sounds as cool as it does from Markus Highway. I think you will find your considerable efforts would find no better ally and a more receptive audience if you made it a priority that every Filipino hears this album. Or, for that matter, listen and enjoy it yourself. I’ll wager it’ll at least be the best tunes ever played in the environs of your office.

(By the way, I think Adoro has a proposal in your office forwarded by no less than Luli Arroyo. Forgive him for not following up — the waves are always a-calling.)