Wolves in the Museum
Tol, gusto mong manood ng Wolfgang mamaya?” The opening text from Igan D’Bayan seemed more than inviting. How generous of him — he, obviously being more of a rocker than I. Although not well versed in the works of one OPM’s most prolific rock bands, I know well enough that passing up the chance to watch Wolfgang live would be a mistake. And I do have a soft spot for rock — it reminds me of high school. Besides, I never watched Wolfgang play live my entire life. Yes, I know, I know, shame on me.
Upon arriving at the Greenhills Music Museum on March 19, a Thursday, I couldn’t tell what was happening. I did feel a bit like the odd one out, like a preppy in the middle of a mosh pit. Well, that’s exaggerating. But in a sea of black T-shirts and tight, ripped-up pants, my normal collared shirt and jeans looked, for lack of a better word, soft. I guess that’s how people just like to dress up for live rock concerts; I’m not one to judge.
What’s more, I have seen scalpers before; they aren’t new to me. I’ve even scored tickets from scalpers on isolated occasions. But the ones that night were something else. One in particular, with glazed-over, beady eyes, was on me the whole night. He kept asking if I had any extra tickets and if he could buy them; or if I needed any extra tickets, following me all the way to the entrance of DeliFrance where I lost him. Inside I bought a Coke and sought refuge. I knew Wolfgang was big, but big enough to make scalpers gaga? Man.
This was another personal milestone because it would be the first time I would set foot in the famed Music Museum. I was surprised to discover how big it really was inside — a venue only fitting for a band whose albums skyrocketed to gold and platinum status back in the day.
Entitled “Two Sides Live,” Wolfgang played alongside peers Razorback (another band I am not too familiar with, but can truly appreciate, wha-pssh!) in this follow-up concert to their December 10, 2008 performance at Eastwood City. Wolfgang again promoted its new album “Villains,” their sixth studio release. The band no longer included the original drummer Wolf Gemora on this album as he now plays for a southern-California rock band, Lokomotiv.
Opening that night was Razorback, with Manuel Legarda of Wolfgang filling in on guitar. I felt like a stranger in observance of something holy to everyone else. And it was good. While everyone was head-banging in unison, I calmly raised up my “Rak awn!” hand sign and experienced the music. I especially enjoyed Louie Talan’s playing, he being the only musician I am really familiar of (my friends and I catch him when he plays gigs with Kalayo, formerly Pinikpikan.)
Much anticipation surrounded the beginning of Wolfgang’s set. In the dark, I could hear people whispering this and that: “Sana kasama sa set nila yung…” or “Ano kaya yung gagawin nila para sa…?” I didn’t know what these people were talking about, but it kind of made me excited, too.
When they finally started, the show was truly on. It was performance time, and they didn’t disappoint. My theory behind why Wolfgang has been such a successful band is that, besides putting a Pinoy twist on a predominantly Western genre, their songs are not complicated and are not difficult to decipher. Not that this is a bad thing or something that makes them less of a band, of course, because as the saying goes: there is beauty in simplicity— even with making songs.
Neither am I saying that their songs are easy to play. If you were to fill in for drummer Francis Aquino, you’d not only have to be good with keeping time, but you’d also need endurance to consistently play all those heavy-hitting notes. Taking up Mon Legaspi’s bass duties would not be an easy task as well, seeing as there is so much melody going on with the songs, meaning lots to remember. Guitarist Manuel Legarda’s job is no joke either, shredding all over the place. And I think Basti Artadi’s voice really is one of a kind. All rocker, with a touch of country, but Pinoy through and through.
A treat for the audience was when the band played an acoustic portion of the gig, employing the skills of Razorback guitarist Tirso Ripoll. The one song I really like, Anino, was done in this manner, and that for me was really special. Maybe some of the other fans had already anticipated this. I would have never known, and that’s what truly caught me off-guard in a good way.
The guy beside me looked older than me — maybe four, five, or six years older, if I were to guess. He had long hair, thick glasses, a plaid pullover, a black T-shirt, torn jeans and big, black boots. At first this guy looked like a poseur. But when Wolfgang played, he knew all the songs. He sang along to all of them, not missing a word. He was out of tune a lot of the time, but he knew all the words, even to the songs that were introduced as not being played in more than a decade.
Not too far off in front of me, a younger set of fans watched on. They knew all the words, too. I know because I could hear them. They all sang at the top of their lungs.
Wolfgang’s success manifests in the scores of fans that all gravitate towards their music. After such a long break, they still have so many followers, both old and new. If that doesn’t speak volumes then I don’t know what does.
