By the time you read this, the last NU Rock Awards ceremony will be over.
At least that’s what I’ve heard: while the ultimate fate of NU 107, the radio station itself, is unconfirmed as of this writing, it seems definite that the Rock Awards, which the station has been putting together since 1994, are shutting down. It was not too long ago (around 2006/2007, to be exact) that the Awards seemed unassailable — bigger than ever, thanks to a resurgence in rock music, and boasting more cred than any other upstarts, thanks to sheer persistence, and the love and sweat of the people behind the station.
I interviewed Cris Hermosisima, NU’s Network Operations head, during the height of the Rock Awards’ reign. Cris is the man who’s seen it all, who’s been there since the very beginning. “I’ve been with NU since ’87 — we basically set up the station.” He went on hiatus from NU for a few years, but he was there to help put together the first Rock Awards show. “The first Rock Awards, ‘di ko makalimutan ‘yun eh. It was held in the Music Hall in Annapolis, in Greenhills.” The first Lifetime Achievement Award went to Freddie Aguilar, and the first Rock Legend Award went to Joey “Pepe” Smith, and both Pinoy music icons were there for the party. “It was a treat for the listeners — ‘yung mga suwerte na nabigyan ng tickets, grabe, parang starstruck eh.” (In fact, a fan whom Pepe Smith accidentally spilled beer on felt honored rather than enraged.) “From Pepe to, I think (Mike) Hanopol was there, to Freddie Aguilar, the Dawn, and After Image. Alamid was there, The Youth — lahat ng mainit!”
“When we started before,” Cris explained, “it was an event to thank everyone. It was a way to thank the sponsors, it was a way to thank and recognize the artists. It was also a way to treat the listeners. For us then, malaki na ‘yung venue. It was the first time that there was a TV special, it was the first time that the jocks were on-cam, it was the first time that the jocks were supposed to rehearse their lines.” Despite the often amusing difficulties the staff had in staging the first Awards, it was a roaring success right out of the gate — and it only got better the next year, when the ceremony was moved to the Music Museum, and a little band you may have heard of called the Eraserheads won for Band of the Year, Album of the Year (for “Circus”) and Listener’s Choice. Since then the show continued to develop and grow; it survived a period of waning interest in local rock music, and rode the aforementioned resurgence of the mid- to late- 2000s. But now, well, apparently, it’s so long, farewell.
It’s a shame. I’ve had my issues with the Rock Awards in the past, though my criticism came from genuine concern and affection for the Awards, and not just some ignorant destructive urge, as I believe some people may have thought at the time. But warts aside, they’ve done a lot of good for the local scene, and spawned a lot of fond memories. I can’t even recall how many Rock Awards ceremonies I’ve attended any more — not that there have been numberless millions of them, but because I tend to remember moments more than specific years: awesome performances, well-deserved awards. It was great when personal favorites — Narda, Urbandub, Up Dharma Down, among many others — received their just recognition. Also I remember the one with the giant robot, unless that’s just something my brain made up in the ‘90s.
Others may recall stranger moments from the Awards’ history — Diether Ocampo’s “jologs” moment, Rosanna Roces flashing the crowd, Bamboo’s Mini-Me, that time the crowd stormed the gate, and so on and so forth, vivid and necessary (if sometimes unfortunate) reminders that despite the occasional flirtations with respectability this was not and should never be your typical awards show. One would need a hefty book to document even half of the off-the-wall occurrences, and I sincerely hope someone writes it.
By the time you read this, an era will have ended, as they say. But who knows? Music will never die. And rock music, as we’ve seen, is no stranger to resurgences.