The Heart of a Mad Man

This is a true story. Back in 1981, I was resting outside a squash court when a good friend stopped by and asked me to listen to a cassette. She said it was a recording of her stepbrother who had just won some music competition in California. Held at Santa Clara, he had copped the Overall Champion’s Champion prize. A grueling four-day competition with contestants from all over the state, I was told this somewhat muffled voice coming over the machine (it was 1981 and a home recording, so what did you expect?) was now thinking of coming to the Philippines, and hoped to embark on a singing career here.

If even only one-third of hindsight could be with us when we practice foresight, I should have raved about the singer and acquired perpetual rights to his recording and concert career. The one bugging me to listen to the tape was Gina Tabuena Godinez; and the voice I was listening to belonged to Martin Nievera.

Flash forward 21 years on, I’m sitting at the Famous Dessert Bar at Greenbelt 3’s 4th level, and Martin is doing his best to keep the photo shoot as crazy and anarchic as it can possibly get. People are pretty much unanimous about the singing that it can’t be faulted. As for his comedic slant and constant prattling on stage, the reactions are extreme–you either love him and fall for the same jokes over and over, or you wish he’d get a grip. But if there’s one thing that can’t be denied, it’s that Martin now occupies a very unique position in our recording industry. He’s a phenom that has defied time, adversity, piracy, easy categorization–and he’s paid the price.

If one searches for a parallel, history will prove him to be the closest thing our local recording industry will produce that approximates Frank Sinatra. As with Frank, Martin is a balladeer, a singer of sad songs; and it’s his continuing ability to earn new fans and respect, plus his capacity to grow and constantly strive to up the ante that keeps us in wonderment. How else can we explain the continuing series of sold-out concerts, the legions of people who troop back to see him again and again, and buy his records?

The one big disparity with Ole’ Blue Eyes is that Martin can’t act; not even if his career, love life, marriage, what have you, is on the line (Frank got a Best Supporting Actor Oscar for From Here to Eternity, while Martin cringes when forced to view his screen appearances). And maybe that’s part of the charm, the key to why so many who condemned were ready to forgive–Martin will always have his heart on his sleeve and we, the public, now know that it’s a heart that’s open and giving, to a fault.

What some people still don’t know is that the Forever album, the one that started the whole thing of me and the revival albums, was the offshoot of my trying to patch up my marriage, my life. We had just separated, and I’d pore over songbooks and records, looking for the songs that would somehow express the turmoil I was going through and how I was trying to make things right again. There’d be songs of yearning, of searching, of remembering the happier times and I recorded it on my own, hoping to give it to people who meant a lot to me. Well, we all know how unsuccessful it was in its original intent. At some point, someone suggested I present it to MCA, my recording company, and to date, it’s the biggest selling album. It spawned Forever Forever, Return to Forever, Souvenirs and so on."

"There is, however, a downside to this being identified with revivals. I just came back from the United States and we were in discussion with some record producers. They brought up the whole thing of how my career is hinged on other people’s material and just reviving songs, so I had to explain how it’s also part of my fulfilling my contract, of continuously going back to the studio and recording. When the good original material comes, it’s fine to do an album filled with such stuff; but what’s just as important is coming up with records of quality, regardless of whether it’s original or not."

"My new album, Chasing Time, is primarily new material. There are some revivals in there, but you have the Brian McKnight songs he gave me, and other original compositions. What’s special about it is that it’s part of MCA’s commitment to help me go global. It’s to be released all over Asia. My recent Singapore concert also marked the album’s launch in that city-state, and what follows will be Malaysia and Indonesia. Some of the songs will be reformatted into duets and we’ll do it with some of the recording artists from each respective country. I know it’s not a new formula, but it’s one that works, and it’ll be exciting to interact with these other singers."

Just the other month, Martin’s commitment to performing was put to a test. We all know how Martin’s shows are "sulit", that close to three hours of songs and patter is the standard. Well, within a span of just over 24 hours, he performed three shows. After a Friday Dagupan gig, he came back to Manila to do two sold-out Saturday shows for Maxi Media, one matinee and one evening show. His voice held up, but even he had to express misgivings about doing that on a regular basis.

Martin is candid about his personal life. "Right now, it’s my career and trying to establish a true foothold in the United States that are my priorities. It’s the road I’ve chosen and it’s done with my eyes wide open. I know it’ll be a lonely path, and the people around me who form my life outside of my career are just as aware of this commitment I’ve made. Katrina keeps me grounded, supplies me with ‘reality’, as do the boys. They supply me with completeness and I can only strive to give the same to them. I don’t want them thinking at some point in the future that I wasn’t there for them. I have my own childhood to think about and I know that some concept of family is very important, regardless of the circumstances my own life is in. It may not be the standard notion, but given what we have, we have to continuously create something."

We joked about the "indecent proposals" that he continues to get. "It’s strange, but for some reason, I’ve now become the guy girls want to take home to their mother, the ‘he’s been through it all and there are no secrets with him’ kind of guy. Rather than being seen as some sexy guy, I’m more the one they want to pamper or baby, like something out of Sesame Street or their version of a Buddy Bear. How exciting is that?"

Deciding to play a game, I then built the scenario of Martin as some demented Santa or elf gone berserk, and asked him what he would leave under the tree of the following:

Ana Co Puno (of Maxi Media) — "An 8th day of the week, so she can have one more weekend Martin show."

Pops Fernandez — "A Prince."

Virgie Ramos — "A day off."

Joyce Jimenez — "Me, in a Winnie the Pooh swimsuit."

Globe subscribers — "The 64k super SIM." (Martin is a SMART endorser)

Cutie del Mar — "A kingdom, cause she’s such a Princess. She’s been such a fan over the years."

Joji Dingcong (Martin’s manager) — "A soulmate… and that’s a tall order!"

Katrina Ojeda — "The school for children she’s always wanted."

So why then do the fans keep returning? You enter the hall knowing exactly what to expect. The quintessential Martin performance is not one of surprises or fast-paced numbers creating a musical high. And yet, they pour in, for encores that come in the form of still more ballads. It’s a different kind of high as you leave and the night air envelops you; one that’s defined by the high mark of entertainment that’s a given, a promise that’s been delivered. It’s not just the songs or his singing voice, it’s the total package of being entertained even between numbers. He goes for the audience’s jugular and like some pit bull, holds on until every breathing person is a convert, succumbing to the Martin magic that’s the secret to his success.

Has success spoiled Martin? "That’s what I can’t afford to be. I aim high and keep it simple; but by virtue of that dictum, the fall, when it comes, will be greater. That’s the one fear we entertainers always have, the day that people no longer want to listen to us, to watch. It’s part of what keeps me going. I can’t afford to be Number 2 or 3. I have to be realistic, flexible; like right now, I quote 1980 prices for my shows and yet give them production values that are so much higher than those of 1980.

"I guess it has to do with the hunger that’s still there inside me. How else can I explain the number of concerts I commit to, the need to prove myself in the States? It goes deeper than just showing off my talent or believing I’m doing it as a Filipino. Look at the West End in London. There’s Lion King, Bombay Dreams and they’re casting for West Side Story; what do I hear? It’s Filipinos they’re looking for! If Lea Salonga helped open their eyes to what we’re capable of, I’m hoping I can be part of that, a pioneer. If I am any good, there’s a whole train of talented Filipinos waiting, and if I can help bring that train closer to the proverbial ‘station’, that would make me happy beyond belief."