Twenty-five years since the release of The Eraserheads’ major-label debut recording, “Ultraelectromagneticpop,” the country’s biggest band, through its songs, has given life to an original stage musical—“Ang Huling El Bimbo,” currently back at Resorts World Manila after a sold-out run last year.
The former E-heads—frontman Ely Buendia, guitarist Marcus Adoro, bassist Buddy Zabala, and drummer Raymund Marasigan—have long disbanded, but are still active musicians. In fact, three of them (except Buendia), play together as the Ultra Combo every now and then, said Adoro and Marasigan.
But each of them, especially Buendia, is likewise busy with other projects—which means everyone is doing good, that there’s life after the E-heads, and, as one of its early songs says: “Lahat tayo’y mabubuhay nang tahimik at buong ligaya.”
Yet, looking back, life during the band’s most creative period, the 1990s, was also filled with stress and paranoia. In the case of the band members, the early ’90s were a period of financial struggle.
The band’s gigs at Club Dredd—whose co-owner, Robbie Sunico, was the E-heads’ first manager—could hardly pay for taxi fare.
But the E-heads’ friends, as well as journalists who heard the songs, felt the band was on to something great.
The release of “Ultraelectromagneticpop” in 1993 kicked the doors wide open for the discovery of other talented bands. An explosion of new album releases led to a golden age in local contemporary pop, dubbed Filipino alternative music.
To be in a rock band was alternative. Everybody wanted to watch the bands in concerts. The record labels made tons of money from album sales, with some bands earning sizable sums from high royalty rates that their managers negotiated.
Crisis, crimes
Amid such a joyous setting, the country reeled from a stressful nationwide energy crisis, with Metro Manila suffering from almost daily 8-10 hour brownouts.
Horrible crimes, notably the Vizconde massacre, the Kuratong Baleleng rubout, and rape cases involving politicians and ordinary men, filled the headlines.
A new drug called shabu or crystal meth caused widespread addiction, leading to paranoia in the streets and providing a lucrative “income” to corrupt police officers.
On top of these, the Asian financial crisis struck, slowing down the economy.
Critical stand
Though the E-heads members were from the University of the Philippines, traditionally a hotbed of activism, their songs were apolitical. But one of the band’s peers, Yano, took a critical stand with songs that looked beyond the euphoria of the Edsa revolt, mocked the daily brownouts, and taunted traditional politicians.
At one point, the E-heads and Yano were the country’s top two bands—sharing top billing at a concert in Cebu and getting paid the same amount of talent fees.
But Yano didn’t last long.
Meanwhile, the E-heads kept playing, writing songs, meeting people, forming relationships, falling in and out of love, and living life through its twists and turns.
The band would eventually break up, but the timeless appeal of its songs would inspire the creation of “Ang Huling El Bimbo”—the story of a group of long-lost friends who meet again, recall good times and confront bad times—much like the generation that lived through the ’90s, scarred by experience, but survivors nonetheless, even as some of their own friends have fallen by the wayside.
Proceeds of the March 31, 8 p.m. show of “Ang Huling Bimbo” at the Newport Performing Arts Theater, Resorts World Manila, will go to beneficiaries of the Inquirer Foundation.