Every now and then, a novel idea finds its bearing. Themed bar nights during weekdays that have enabled Manila’s hardcore partygoer something to gyrate to other than the banalities of the friggin’ weekend. Toppings-savvy yogurt. Five-kilometer runs. Milk tea. Music festivals. And for me, the so-called, “hipster life.”
Then, there’s proprietors Nice Buenaventura and Mara Coson’s new venture, or rather, adventure, the “Single Decker” — a one-of-a-kind experience that situates an acoustic act like Outerhope inside a moving bus, performing live for a limited audience.
Next Station: Cubao X
“Sir, ma’am, guduffternun. Konichiwa, magandang gabi poh koyah ateh,” tinkers host Shinji Manlangit of indie band The Strangeness on the microphone as he welcomes passengers aboard our 45-seater bus. At this point, he has planted himself comfortably by the entrance, determined to provide the amusement for the evening.
From its initial station at SM City North Edsa, the large-scale vehicle moves towards hipster haunt Cubao X to pick up its passengers for the evening’s dry run festivities but not before being brought to a halt by a Flores de Mayo procession that was anchored by former Miss Universe Gloria Diaz herself. There is a story here somehow.
Enter: Awesomeness
Earlier that day, the sky had reeked of a depressing shade — one that reminded you of Melancholia right before the meteor hits, or the dulled-out color palette of a growing wave of Pinoy indie movies, or Instagram. It was almost sunny. It was drizzling, somewhat. The environs couldn’t be spelled out. It had the kind of lackluster that depressed the sh*t out of you, though all that was soon to change.
Enter: Band manager Kathy Gener, Esquire Philippines’ Luis Katigbak, Miguel and Chico Hernandez from Wilderness, Ang Bandang Shirley’s Selena Salang, and Outerhope’s Micaela Benedicto among other indie scenesters and music lovers. “Eto na po ang indie songstress,” Shinji jests of Micaela, one half of the dream pop duo and our performers for the evening. Her brother Michael, the other side of Outerhope, would soon follow.
Reenter proprietor Mara Coson. She and Nice had briefly de-bused to distribute kiddie party hats, complementary Jell-o shots, and nametags to the passengers — ones that you, as the wearer, were not allowed to see. One had Tyra Banks on it. Another had Bieber. I find out post-transit that mine had been Rene Requiestas. It was a gimmick that served its purpose later on — as part of a Pinoy Henyo intermission to Outerhope’s set.
Rerouted
“Eto na ang indie charm girl,” Shinji sucker-punches on the microphone as Mara Coson takes to her seat — causing her to blush. She and Nice are the rallying forces behind this weirdly awesome experience — something that on the latter’s accord, they had conjured together while bored at the office one day.
Ateneo de Manila University assistant professor Leloy Claudio, Shinji’s co-host for the evening, narrates our route for the evening: “We’ll be hitting Cubao, then Katipunan, possibly the non-gated parts of UP, then Quezon City Circle to pay tribute to the great Manuel Quezon. I semi-mean that.” The journey was to reach its climax at Nomama in Tomas Morato where Indie Queen Mei Bastes was hosting a birthday bash for her friends.
Banderitas festooned the interiors of the vehicle, crystallizing a unique feel of a fiesta. Collectively, these provided a secondary visual to the foundation of dainty decorative that reminded you of the ones hanging in buses during commutes to the probinsya — yes, in all their kitschy glory. Meanwhile, Outerhope get their bearings within maximum reach of the wired microphones, serving as the band’s sole amplification.
Rolling In The Deep
The bus rolled out, Shinji and Leloy went on the make their commentaries. “Okay, first game. Bilangin po natin kung ilang Angel’s Burger ang madadaanan dito sa kalye (Let’s count how many Angel’s Burger joints we pass by),” jokes Shinji. Leloy sparks, “At sa kaliwa po natin ay ang makasaysayang Palawan Bar (And on our left is the historical Palawan bar),” which cracked up the passengers. The duo’s commentaries seemed a calculated cacophony of sarcasm, wit, and a lil’ bit of becky. “Para po sa mga mayayaman, ang life vest ay nasa ilalim ng inyong mga upuan. Para po sa mga mahihirap, sabayan niyo kami, ‘Aba ginoong Maria, puno ka ng grasya… (For the rich, your life vest is under your chairs. For the poor, join us in prayer).”
As Outerhope settled — Micaela on one side of the aisle and Michael on the other — we found ourselves, music lovers and photographers, huddling over the Benedictos as they played songs from their “A Day for the Absent” album, and throwbacks from 2005’s “Strangely Paired.”
Too Close For Comfort
The proximity from where I stood/knelt was revelatory of how unique this experience had been. I was holding Micaela’s mic for her at some point while she played on her synthesizer. Michael was the man on guitars. The bus swayed. Our heads swirled (and hurt at some point) as we rolled through Manila’s iconic streets. We passed around cigarette candy. The fluorescence of the bus shone brighter than ever but nothing compared to the evening’s biggest light bulb moment: “Why didn’t anyone think of this sooner?”
After a pit stop at Wilcon along Visayas Avenue, the Strangeness, Vinny Tagle, and Ang Bandang Shirley took turns in ushering entertainment for what was to be the remainder of Mara and Nice’s Single Decker bonanza. Tagle’s A Thousand Miles performance was a crowd-pleaser. There is another story here. And then the joy ride drew to a complete stop.
The experience was extraordinary. It had been unlike any that I had experienced, or even heard of. A band. An unplugged performance. A large, moving vehicle. Something seemed totally amiss in that equation. But for all the weirdness and strangeness you could find in “Single Decker,” it was fabulously off-kilter and one that every music lover should hop aboard in its next installment.