June 18, 1999
THE NIGHT OF CLONE:
A View From The Stage By A Technohead + A Look At The Local Electronica
Scene In Its Infancy.
On June 18, 1999--- the same day as the event-filled Julia Fordham concert
in Metro Manila --- three local electronic bands CLONE, FIRST
DEGREE & SYNACTIX took the stage of Music Museum and bravely
exposed their original, squawking, technological music to a gathered audience
of about a hundred people.
PART I: PROLOGUE
"Grabe. Di namin alam na ganitong kadami ang kailangan i-set-up!"
The Music Museum technicians are scratching their heads in confusion.
True enough, the stage is in chaos. Keyboard rigs up on stage right and
stage left. Wires everywhere. People criss-crossing over the entire mess
with cables, floppy diskettes or violins in hand. Quite a sight to behold.
Except that it's 6:00 pm, and I'm late.
___ Karlo Samson, Clone's samplist and ambient sfx manipulator helps me
haul the gear in. Since I'm late, the only space left to set up in is
centerstage. And since we're the first band on, it ends up being one of
those beautiful little moments of synchronicity. Things falling into place.
___ Wish my gear could piece itself together as easily. Although, compared
to my counterparts in the other two bands, my setup is quite minimal:
2 keyboards, one module, one keyboard stand, 8-channel mixer. Karlo lays
out his gear on a table beside me: 2 samplers and a mini-sequencer/keyboard.
We are up and running in 10 minutes.
LESSONS FOR THE FLEDGLING TECHNO ACT #1: Keyboardists in electronic
bands need lots and lots of gear. A car would help. And maybe a roadie
to help haul the stuff around. A bandmate with a car will do in the
absence of either. Believe me, it's hell taking taxis while lugging
2 keyboards around.
Our vocalist Sheerin Castillo arrives soon after and we soundcheck without
a hitch. In fact, I am thrilled. It's a rush to hear your sequenced stuff
coming out of humongous speakers. First Degree warms up right after. Synactix
are last to soundcheck. There are some difficulties encountered since
they have a guest string section performing with them on one song and
the microphone placement is a nightmare.
LESSON #2: If you want to avoid stress, get there early and set
up early. That way, you can grab a beer.
Karlo and I grab two bottles of Blue Ice and with Sheerin, decide the
exact order of songs in our set. Meanwhile inside the hall, the technicians
are still scratching their heads.
PART II: ANALOGUE
CLONE
When we finally take the stage at 9:15 p.m., I'm cold and sweaty.
I haven't felt this nervous in ages. To think I used to play keyboards
every week for a pop band. I guess churning out Earth Wind & Fire
covers is a world away from debuting all-original material that mixes
trip hop, electronica and acid jazz into some weird melodic goo that you're
not sure if people will understand
much less, like. And Andre Quimpo,
our fantastic drummer, couldn't make it tonight. We're all pretty antsy.
___ Once the lights dim, it is our cue to walk onstage and begin. No cheesy
voiceovers or crap like that. The sequencers, modules and samplers have
been kept on, and are ready to go. All we have to do is press play, then
layer lush synth pads and melodic passages atop the pre-programmed songs.
___ To be honest, it feels like cheating. But then we have our own problems
here. Just as analog bands must contend with the perennial problem of
being musically "tight" and interlocking with the groove, us
electronic bands must contend with software glitches, power surges, and
remembering which instrument goes into which channel.
___ Midway thru the set, my sequencer refuses to load the right instrument
settings, I have to reset them manually using the extensive notes in my
tickler, which is open on top of my module. Good thing Sheerin has forgotten
the sequence and forged ahead to the next song. By the time we come back
to the song, the settings have magically corrected themselves. Bizarre.
LESSON #3: Always keep extensive notes about the songs you program.
Take note of chord progressions, instruments used, the tracks they're
on, the diskette the file is saved in
It will always come in handy.
LESSON #4: Bring lots of spares. Spare cables, spare diskettes,
even a spare T-shirt for cripe's sake.
In one song, our humble 4 megabyte sampler goes a bit off-tempo when
it is mis-triggered and in another tune, Sheerin misses the cue for the
first stanza and must make up for it by cutting the second stanza in half.
But otherwise, our set turns out to be a success. Not bad for a band's
fifth gig.
LESSON #5: (Not applicable to rich electronic acts who have their
samples and sequences stored on Powerbooks) Pre-programmed songs [i.e.
songs that are played back via sequencer] have a fixed start and end.
You can't keep playing the intro until the singer decides to come in,
like in an analog band. She either comes in on time or misses the cue
and must make up for it.
The set ends. The applause comes in waves. Our photographer tells us
we sound like Kraftwerk, Portishead, Mono, Moloko and 4Hero. "I like
how you didn't have a cover song in sight! Head-bobbing, foot-stomping,
mind-entrancing! More! More!" You can tell he loves us. Or he's tipsy.
___ There is no time to enjoy it though. We must strike down in under
five minutes to make way for First Degree. All power switches off. All
cables unplugged and stuffed into our trusty malletta. All keyboards and
stands hauled off without any attempt at decorum. Finally, our gear is
pushed to one corner. And the next band begins.
FIRST DEGREE
In contrast to our near-stoic performance, First Degree is a hyperactive
bunch. Their goateed keyboardist/programmer Tristan Suguitan pogoes in
place, their long-haired guitarist Shadrach Barinaga flails his locks
as he strums, and vocalist Alvin Baes is a screaming meemie, contorting
his face into as many lines as possible while delivering their fiery mixture
of original music and covers. Only their session bassist seems shy and
self-conscious.
LESSON #6: Techno bands will necessarily have static performers
because keyboardists can't lift their keyboards over their heads and
play using their tongues. To avoid audience boredom, you can do several
things: (a) get a vocalist/guitarist/drummer with excellent stage presence
(b) hire a dancer (c) get someone to rig a lights/slide/projector show
(d) learn how to strut while playing your keyboard.
It is immediately obvious that the electronic rock group has their own
agenda : to get the people up and dancing. And it almost works. They sing
covers such as Prodigy's "Breathe", Chemical Brothers' "Block-Rockin'
Beats" and even Blur's "Song#2". They continue the assault
with originals like "Unstable" and "Freedom" which
meld KMFDM beats with Ministry guitars and Sepultura vocals. The only
thing that seems to be keeping the audience in their seats seems to be
the lack of any discernible dance floor in Music Museum. Doesn't stop
us from bouncing in our seats though.
LESSON #7: Good beats shake booty. If you want the assemblage to
dance, pick a suitable venue.
First Degree's hour-long set wears a bit thin after the first 45 minutes
though. There is, after all, only so much screaming and pummeling one
can take before aural fatigue sets in. Still, the energetic performance
is a nice change of pace.
SYNACTIX
The last act for the night are Synactix, which is technically Ambeth
Taylo on keyboards/programming and live violin, Marck Laccay on bass,
and Ramil Aznar on guitar, although of late, they've added their manager
Ene on vocals and Jams on percussion.
___ It's a procession into mystery and moodswings. Their music is just
as tough as First Degree's except that they inject just the right amount
of darkness to keep it from becoming overly angsty. Ambient might be a
better word. Though their music is more beat-driven than anything Brian
Eno would think up of. Whatever.
___During one of the band's signature originals (entitled, aptly enough
"Synactix") Taylo is forced to use a regular condenser microphone
for his violin. The regular pickup he uses got busted during the week
preceding the concert. Result? The melodies that have soared above the
cold machinery clatter in past gigs is reduced to a whimper.
LESSON #8: Acoustic instruments must be amplified properly to compete
with electronic keyboards and samplers. Yes, even the drums (especially
if your venue's speakers are 5 feet tall).
Members of the Manila Youth Symphony Orchestra join the band for one
song, a Portishead-type reworking of Gershwin's "Summertime"
with Ene on lead vocals, and the string section meandering mellifluously
in the background. There is even a baroque section in the middle of the
song that would've been spectacular if the cellos had stuck to the beat.
But it's forgivable since the piece is the only one in the set played
totally live.
LESSON #9: Nothing ensures a good gig than practice. Even if everything's
sequenced. The easiest sin here is complacency.
In the latter half of their set, the group digs into more originals and
produces a memorable version of "Plasticman", where bassist
Laccay gives new meaning to the word double-jointed. They even break the
sombre affair with a startling cover of Propaganda's "Duel/Jewel".
In all, a refreshing night-ender.
PART III: EPILOGUE
Admittedly, electronic music in the Philippines is in its infancy. Thus
far, in Metro Manila there are only four groups that are trying to make
names for themselves. The three are already mentioned extensively in this
piece, the fourth is the much-lauded duo Rubber Inc. whose breakbeat samples
and nonstop flow of dance music are to die for.
___ Among the bands, most of us agree that a major deterrent to putting
up techno acts is money and equipment. You can get passable guitars for
under 3,000 pesos. The cheapest medium-quality keyboards amount to 15,000
pesos. And then to keep coming up with good sounds, you need the latest
gear: samplers that can play loops, keyboards whose tone banks can be
upgraded, sequencers that can chain everything together. It's a financial
nightmare.
___ And yet, the seeds have been planted and minds are more open. Parties
thrown by big-name organizers still draw sizeable crowds. Foreign DJs
have spun their records here to frenzied throngs. The music is more readily
available in shops. Even the local music scene appears to be ready (as
it was in early 1992) for a major breakthrough--- an electronic equivalent
of the Eraserheads maybe, to release the floodgates.
LESSON #10: You probably won't make a lot of money creating techno
tracks. So you better love the music for what it is. Or risk lifelong
frustration.
Will electronica ride that wave when it breaks? We can only hope. Meanwhile,
we gig whenever and wherever we can.
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