RACCOON!!

Our law student friends had just passed the bar exam so it called for a celebration. Stanley Anthony aka Sungay was one of them. He SMS’ed me earlier that day and invited me to have a drink with him as a celebration of his success. I was at class at the time when he informed me of his plans for that same evening. In the message he said that he had some suprise awaiting, and that he was already excited. And so as dusk broke, I went my way home. On my way I had SMS’ed James about what was cooking that evening at my place, only to learn that he was already informed and was already about. It was a good thing that James was around the area just in time to give me a lift. Along the way, we happily remembered the good old days back in college, when we used to hang around them guys, especially Sungay and his best friend and partner in crime David. About Sungay being the guy who wore a white pair of cycling shorts to school, posing as a famous pop star during the mid 90’s. The guy who bore scars after busting a move (flare) on a splinter filled wooden floor whilst drinking. The human pinball of the bar, its good he didn’t break anything while being so. The splitting image of Lane Staley and Kurt Cobain from a distance. And a lot of other funny stuff and acts we could remember him by. As we laughed on our way back to my place, at the midst of our funny recollection, we were suprised at what we’ve seen as we arrived.

As we ran the 3 flights of stairs to my pad, we caught some guys peeking through my bay-window. Hehehe… it was Sungay, his girlfriend, and David, waiting for us and in their hands they had some goodies.

We all greeted each other and congratulated Sungs for his suprising success story. As we entered my residence we set up the sala for the session. Unpacking the goodies from the bags, we saw something shiny and familiar. At first it looked as if it were the regular GSM bottle. But no…

With a smile, Sungay handed over a bottle of Absolut, a liquor we could hardly remember consuming since it has been quite a while we had our last bottle of Absolut. And so, we started the symposium and reminisced every detail we could muster from what we’ve still remembered about Sungay, and of what he used to be and still is. Its like tasting the good old days as recalled by long lost friends. Its been a while since the last time we guys hung out.

It was like the vodka Sungay brought was some sort of symbolic in a way.

I could hardly remember the taste of vodka since its faint scent dissolves so easily and quickly as you swallow a shot. I could barely taste it though you’d notice the alcohol at first, but only for a split second you’d only notice it flow down your neck as a warm sensation. No wonder the russians were fond of this liquor in their perdominantly cold climate (as if I’ve been to the place). So much for my drinking buddies. Ahem!

Anyway, we downed the liter in no time, as in fast. I would have prefered to sit the liquor out and feel it’s classic buzz, but the celebrator had a better plan instead, he called for another round of different kind and lighter beverage, a practice which we call "hugas" or washing.

Washing with beer solves most problems such as black outs, vomitting, even hangovers the next day. Sungay chose SMB light beer for washing, as usual. Everybody was happy that our friend had remembered us the day he recieved the good news.

The night slipped by, like a swig of vodka. As the taste of  Sungays company had to come to a pass. I wondered when would be the next time we’d share another bottle of vodka with this guy. Well let’s just say, be it a taste of another one of those good days together.

"To Sungay! for passing the bar exam!" we shouted as we chugged our bottles of beer. The night faded with cheerful jokes, songs, David’s mouth, and memoires of our experiences together. We had an absolutely wonderful time celebrating Sungay’s success.

To the new lawyer in town! RACCOON!!!

Late last year, based on what I’ve heard from some old friends of mine, I’ve come to learn about Gerry’s return. He’s back in the Philippines and is setting up a recording studio somewhere in Makati City! Though, I earlier had news of its construction, I waited until everything was set up. Upon reading updated posts on their website, I saw they were having a soft opening on February. I planned to pay a visit later that month to see whats up and running with my compadre.

Coincidentally, Delta Slim had his acoustic night session with Tom early March, and found it somewhat  convenient to invite me over at Sound Weavers Studio the following week to lay some demo tracks.

The week was about over, Delta Slim SMS’ed me if I could be available Saturday noon for his recording.

I was eager to discover what has finally become of Gerry’s plan, seeing the contruction pictures/details over their website and all, and so off I went.

"A different spectrum, same ray of light" for a moment I thought, as the blinding sun seared through the cars windshield as I drove to the studio.

As I entered the studio’s customized door, I said to myself…
"And so, Here we are, entering another one of Gerry’s great creations."
"The works!!"
An idea turned into reality. Well that’s what Gerry always have been, a "weaver"…
He used to weave productions, and now he’s here "weaving sounds."
You know? MUSIC?!

As it was, just like in the mid ’90s. Gerry’s brainchild, Red House’s Rakrakan Productions, where programs like "BluesKrieg" (Blues Night), "Undredded" (Acoustic Night) and many other band marathon type gigs have been conceptualized and materialized, was where budding bands at that time thrived. A production format which later influenced other productions’ approach to the arts and entertainment business.

Delta Slim was already pinching on his semi-acoustic Fender Telecaster when I arrived. Later on, he asked me to put some licks onto the groove he came up with to add flavor to his ad-lib composition demo track. Gerry served us some latte (I had brewed instead) to perk up the session. The gathering served, at least for me, as a semi-reunion of old band mates. Unfortunately Fermin, who is a family man himself, wasn’t able to come over. Judge of Hubris was there. The guys didn’t change a bit, except for new short snipped hairdo’s and a few white strands of hair here and there, and families of course.

Back in the studio…

The place looked like a functional piece of art. An instrument to weave and produce music. Thanks to Judge’s design, the place looked savvy enough to make one think one’s there for some reason other than recording music. As Delta Slim and I hit some notes on an experimental blues demo of his, I felt like I was some "co-rock star" composing a fund raising tribute song of some sort when he asked me to lay a tune or two on it. As I played, I litterally had cold feet since the studios airconditioning was so cool.

The systems gear sounded great, tracks sounded as live as far as I could hear. The drumset sounded rock solid along with crisp crash and ride cymbals through the monitors, although not enough to leak through the sound proofed walls composed of rockwool and gypsum boards, and ceilings of course! The demo was far from finished. It had to be shelved for a while since the day was growing old. A final re-run drew smiles as each one listened. It somewhat served as a eulogy to Gerry’s endeavor.

"Nice!" Delta Slim commented.

The recording and coffee talks took us about a quarter of that day and it was worth the chill. As we wrapped up, Gerry thanked us for dropping by as we complimented him of his studio.

The "dude" is back and with a vengeance! I thought.
Or is he?
I guess we’ll have to see for ourselves.
Check out the  "Sound-Weavers" web site or better yet if you’ve some tracks to burn, you may want to chance upon the "sound weaving instrument" of a place. You may find your "music" tailored to suit your ears pleasure. I’m looking forward at dropping by again soon to check out how Gerry’s studio wreaks.

For all you know, you just might catch me hitting some tracks when you drop by! (winks)

Thanks to my compadres Gerry and Delta Slim for inviting me over for some coffee, and jam. And to Judge for his stylish design of a studio, which made me feel like a pro just by hanging around.

To the Sound-Weavers!! RACCOON!!!

Gerry - islandcode@yahoo.com
Judge - realmsdesignconstruct@yahoo.com
Rakrakan Productions - rakrakan@rakrakan.com
Sound-Weavers Music Recording Studio

About a decade ago our college band "Super Stud" were into 311 music then, in the midst of grunge era when everyone was sort of alternativeley hyped into the seatle sound. Playing cover songs from trip-hop, semi-ska bands made us stand out from the heavy monotonous sounding style everyone was trying to mimic.

Athough a handful of bands sounded fine, we sort of grew tired of the same old "note". And so, we added flavor to our repertoir. We covered music ranging from bands like the redhotchillipeppers, Incubus, Sugar Ray, Kula Shaker, STP, and then 311. The quality I liked most from 311 music was their happy sounding guitar and bass tandem mixed alongside their erratic lyrical content plus rhythmic raps, which made it more appealing. Different styles of singing and rapping depended on the mood and theme they were trying to convey. At least that is what I’ve percieved.

I was and still am a sound sensing individual. And through the years, I never really read about the bands we were covering. I only listened to their music. Only from my friend James was I enlighted about the reason why the band was named as such.
It was a date!
"March 13"….
Well uh, I still don’t remember.
But I will eventually… When I ask my buddy James about it again.
As the saying goes, "Practice makes perfect"!
Well, there is not so much to say about the band as far as my memory is concerned.

Lateley, when I reviewed my music files in my PC I found some MP3 files of some of our college gigs on video8 sometime between now and then (thanks to Cowpunk and his trusty video-cam). During those times I had the chance to tinker around with my PC, I discovered there were sound editing softwares such as acid-pro, cubase, cakewalk, cool-edit, and experimented with them.  I plugged the video cam audio cable on the PC’s line-in, as what I figured would be the right thing to do if I were to record any audio track, and Hwala! I had successfully transferred and layed our tracks as clean and as clear as possible on CD format. Unfortunately, I only found a few of my videos scattered in my junk-box. I happened to dust off some tapes containing videos of one of our first gigs with 311 music in our line of cover songs.

Anyway, I know you’re quite curious about what kind of music I’m talking about. Though, our rendition may not be as great as the original, I think it would give you an idea of what their (311) music really sounds like. In commemoration to the band that heavily influenced us (parang patay na ah?), I present some of our humble performances of some of 311’s beautiful compositions.

CHAPTER I
Maroon curtains slide open as a bright set of spotlights glare the view of curious peering crowd of about 200 people, as an MC introduces a group of handsome and youthful team of aspiring musicians…
"Let us now welcome, our very own college band…Super Stud!!!" The crowd cheers as  lights cut through the  auditorium,"Take it away!" the MC shouts, finally zeroeing in on the vocalist (James). 
Claps resounded.

As James grasps the microphone preparing to belch out his rendition of a song from 311, he calmly addressed the crowd, " This is a song from 311, and it is called Tee and Pee combo…" Slightly gazes at the band behind him, signals and mutters, "Paolo?", and counts off.
"A one…two…
  One…two…three…four…"

T&P Combo plays, as the gayly cheering female dominated crowd danced along the rhythm of the song with a catchy beat. James gazed into the audiences eyes in a seriously engrossed manner, as if scolding them. The band played on…

CHAPTER II
The first song ended, continuous applause of endearment filled the air as James uttered in a low toned voice, "Ahh…ehto pala, para sa mga chix ng C.A.S.!!!" Upon hearing his phrase, screams and cheers of young womens voices filled the theater almost bringing it to a burst. "Ehto nga pala isa pang kanta ng 311 na pamagat ay "What was I thinking"…James looks at us, Paolo clasps his drumsticks and ticks out a beat…
A one…two…

A one…two…three…

What the "F_ _ K" was I thinkin’ , a song which I would hardly forget. This was the first song I chose, among a long list of other songs of the same band, to  cover  due to its  funky bass line intro. Eventhought it was sort of a little heavy on the ears and was hard to transpose, I knew this danceable song would sweep the ladies off their feet. Again, the great band played on…

CHAPTER III
Finally, as the crowd was cheering on and was sweating from the heat of perspiring active sexy bodies, James plugged in an announcement saying in an exhausted voice, "Maraming salamat sa mga barkada namin dito sa UP, kela Sarge ng Tibidabo, sa mga taga UP ORG, UPOS, SJ, Astrium Scientis, UNGAS, UPSCA, sa mga teachers at saka sa mga FRESHMEN!!! Ehto para sa inyo!"…
and asked for the count down… one…two…three…

Hydrophonic , an earthly sounding song (lyrics). Heavy pounding low notes rang across the "Little Theater", literally rumbling it’s wooden walls. Everyone was perplexed on the gravity the song had. It seemed like everyone was carefully listening to every word the song would say as the monotonous sound somewhat hypnotized the crowd. Like zombies, people started bobbing their heads, in unison and in a pecking manner. I myself was drawn to the energy the visual phenomenon brought. Almost everyone, including our friends at the back were siphoned into the slow and heavy music as James rapped on…

"I am what I eat, straight from earth, right? Nothing but a walking sack of earth. Nice to meet you, how do you do? That’s right"…

EPILOGUE

Basically, the music of 311 was some sort of an icon/idol band for us.
Their lyrics’ ideaology and melody/tune catches the essence of us (the
band/group). At least that is what I think. Thanks to their ingenious musicality.

And by the way…

Happy 311 day!!

311!! RACCOON!!!

Delta Slim SMS’ed me the night before he was jamming with Tom Colvin (the harmonisist) at some bar Tuesday evening.

I just came from class, and it was just like 5:45pm in the afternoon. The show was supposed to start at 9pm so I really had to come up with something to do somewhere, just to kill the time.
So, I went to my favorite "pancitan" (noodle house) just at the back of the academy, had a plate of pancit canton and had a cup of coffee. I took all the time in the world consuming what I have just bought, which also served as an early dinner.

Gadzooks!

It’s just 6:45 and the store I’m in is just about closing up. I had to come up with something to do for the meantime. I dilly-dallied along the sidewalk, window shopped, ran through some clothes in some "Ukay-Ukay" (used clothes) store nearby, and smoked a couple of cigs.  This took a while.

Sheesh!
7:30pm and still too early. Well, I opted to jump on a jeep to K-Zone City Hall to find something to do along the way. I checked out almost every street vendor and everything they were selling on the sidewalk around the hall loitering around with nothing in mind except the acoustic night happening that evening. It was hard to look for  something to do just to kill time, it reminds me of what I’ve missed in the past, like watching or playing acoustic guitar with your band mates at a tambayan somewhere. I wandered, as my mind did too as I happened to recall memories of the past.

Delta Slim was a college band mate of mine. We were then known as the Souldreddgers. This guy is known for his
hellraising guitar playing talent and extreme magnetic personality. We
had played in a couple of joints way back then. We used to
play the "blues" and covered some old songs from Robert
Johnson, B.B. King, Albert King and all the other kings of the blues, and we enjoyed it a lot. Gerry, our bassist had a production running then "Red House Productions" which sheltered our band as we played at local bars in Espana road, some bistro in Uknown Ass, and a Pop Club in Cubao. He also made acoustic nights then.

Acoustic nights are somewhat an offshoot of the Unplugged shows in the ’90s. A trend which clicked almost overnight. All sorts of acousticated songs mushroomed everywhere. I could barely remember the last acoustic set I’ve been to and watched, and it has been a while. I miss that!

And so, I ended up riding the jeep to Visayas Avenue and it was just about to turn 8pm. The jeepney driver had the courtesy of showing me where exactly the bar was, and saved me time hunting the bar’s signage along the way. I arrived a bit too early, bareley anyone was around. The venues staff were just about fixing, cleaning, and setting things up for the night. So I lit a cigarette. So much for killing time eh?

8:30pm - The guard placed his cap on as if he’s just  worn his uniform that day. I asked him what time the venue was supposed to open and  said that it already was.

"Yay!" I said.

I entered the gates, indeed the bar was already open. I saw a few heads bobbing about, laughing in a chatter. I wondered from where did these people come from? And so, I lit myself another cig and found myself a seat burried way at the back, of which appeared to be an engulfed lanscaped beer garden. As I sat, a few more heads started coming in and I saw Tom fade into the dimly spot lit entrance alley. He looked a whole lot older, though it seemed like yesterday when we last jammed. Well, like everyone says, "Time flies", and fast.

9:15pm - That night,  Delta Slim was playing duet with Tom Colvin, a foreign blues harp (harmonica) player whos music blended well with Delta Slim’s compositions and renditions. It took a while before they had the stage to themselves. Earlier that night, some acoustic players jammed a couple of jazz tunes
which served as a good frontline appetizer, at least for instrumental jazz lovers. Some of them were
legendary local blues players, as what I’ve heared, and they shared the night of acoustic harmony
with us.

10pm - As the jazz players jammed, the two made a last minute run through of their repertoire, then they were on. Stylishly embracing his resophonic guitar (a replica of the aluminum bodied stainless steel coated acoustic guitars circa ’30s, and the cheapest type then) Delta Slim steadily positioned his index finger wrapped with a stainless steel bottleneck slide flat on the fretboard. He started off with a classic blues intro from Robert Johnson’s "Come on my kitchen." The duo had their mojo working, grooving, like they’ve always have. Tom’s blues harp (harmonica) tagged along the rhythm as blues Delta Slim’s resophonic guitar sang. The trainlike characteristic sound of Tom’s harmonica gave me an idea of how sorrow/delight and happiness/sadness sounded, and that’s how I liked it.

What one feels as a loved one departs. Same goes with the weeping sound of the slide notes from Delta Slim’s steel resophonic guitar, which puts a melancholic but somewhat manic depressive flavor at times. The two just rolled on, wailing the blues as Delta Slim went on rambling the story a loneley heart once sung.

Sigh…sniff…

It was already 12:30pm and the evening and the night had to come to a close.

All in all, the triple duets decorated the night with sweet reminiscences of the past "acoustically".
Thanks to my friend Delta Slim, I enjoyed another acoustic "blues" night as his avid fan and audience.

And by the way, click on this Sample Video of their blues session. Enjoy!

Delta Slim! RACCOON!!

Delta Slim -e-mail:  deltsalim@gmail.com

It was a Friday night, or was it? Anyway, our cool friend Curl gave us an SMS informing us about a stint they were to pull-off at some bar loacted around Unkown Ass Come Moon Inn K-Zone City. The gig was set to start at about 9 pm that evening so James and I broke free of our daily "ball and chains" and rushed to the site.

What did we expect?

FREE BEER!

It was a Friday night, so we had to snake through the traffic which was starting to build up. And we well know that when it comes to partying, everyones in a rush.
Good thing we came on time, but was there Freedom at all?

"Yes?"

BBZZZZTT!!!

"Wrong!"

Curl was just by the parking lot when we arrived, and in a suprised note said "Oh? Unknown gay nag go one new ditto?" chuckles a bit… and stretches out a handshake, and later mumbles sarcastically "Sir rod do ought to? Knee loco lung ought to thigh oh sag ignite toe!"… and chuckles again…

Geeezzz!
What was the plan if such a thing would happen to us?
What were we to expect?
Are we doomed?

(note: choose an option on the list below and begin on the page number indicated just right after the answer.)

a) Take a hike for like about 20-30 minutes! Ride a high priced 2-3 hour smoggy jeep ride back home… (turn to page 311)
b) Wait for saviours and saints to come over, come up with a good idea like, puchasing us an entrance ticket or treat us with a few bottles of beer, and save the day.. (turn to page 311)
c) Play a nasty poker faced waiting game on who’s got a bright idea? The mexican stand-off on who’ll be "IT"… (turn to page 311)

To think, James and I were worried we might not make the "free entrance" (if there were any) if we were 15 minutes late. We were there 5 minutes early!!! Why?
Because, what did we expect?

FREE BEER!

(page 311)
As we approached the parking area, Curl came over and said "What the hell are you guys doing here" pauses for a second while we scratched our heads in wonder…and he adds in a sarcastic note "I think its closed? Sombody pulled a joke on us this time!" looks at us and looks at one of his band mates, while James replies in sarcasm but intead facing me "Well someones trying to pull a joke alright?" and we all laughed. After all the heckling, one of Curl’s friends called him over by the ground’s balcony signaling him to come over and said the place was now open. And so we followed.

Freedom:
Whew! Practically undecided and somewhat relieved of what we’ve heared, James and I frantically pushed our way up to to the venue. On our way up I could hear James mumbling "The fat leave ray young beer nut inn net oh!" I muffled a lagh as I tailed along.

The Wait:
Anyways, as we stood by the balcony, we were busy doing option "b" and at the same time doing option "c" every time Curl came over to check on us. While I was considering option "a" (You and Tough Avenue) since I had purchased a pack of smokes earlier, which left me less than P20 in my pocket; and which was going nowhere as far as the entrance fee was concerned. Nonetheless, I settled to concentrate on executing plan "b" for the meantime. And so, what happened next?

A Saint:
Well, what do you know?
Someone has just purchased us (James, I, & co.) an entrance ticket with a free bottle of beer of our choice. And so we went in. We oredered our bottles of Red Horse Extra Strong Beer and mingled around with a couple of Curl’s buddies as we waited. Time was running, Curl’s band "Reckless Imprudence" and his members were approaching cinderella time and had plan "b" in mind. The line up of wanna be panx-snot-dead bands and groupies were starting to realize the emptiness of the bottles of their "free-paid beer." Curl was starting to groove on plan "b" while the fanx were almost dead and were trodding on plan "a." At least we wished they did.

Reckless Imprudence!!!:
Quarter to 10, the show was officially on. Curl announces their 3 song stint (which was supposed to be 5-6 songs), grabs on the microphone as their rhythm guitarist hits a starting riff from The Door’s "Mustang Sally", and the crowd cheered on. At last! The panx-snot-dead bands eagerly waited for their turn as they watched Curl’s band play. The jugular venous tension seen on Curl’s neck as he belched, added intensity of his rendition as each song progressed. Finally, the third song was up, wrapping the nights excitement (at least for us). And since the night was still young, most of the guys fretted on plan "b."

A collective idea floated up in the air reading "More beer anyone?"

Resto:

waiting…
waiting…
Nice one! Plan "b" worked!
Someone in the group had offered a few couple of beers at a nearby resto known as "Mow low’s". pulutan was not included though. As the night faded, we feverently recalled Curl’s short lived "Reckless Imprudence" that night. We would like to thank Karl for inviting us over. It was cool as ever. By the way, Curl is godfather to my daughter as I recalled, when he unwittingly reminded me that night. Thanks pare! And to your band…

Reckless Imprudence!! RACCOON!!!

Curl -e-mail: kaacastillo@fnslaw.com.ph

Roxanne, my beloved Fender Jaguar ‘63 series handed down from my father. She used to be a sunburst finished babe turned flat anzahl black and now tourquoise green. I found her at the brink of her death. She was lying around the attick when I first laid my eyes her. One of my brothers had the kicks for bands and strumming some tunes way before I did so he had the next taste of her, I was too young to handle such a piece of work. I remember her singing as my brother used to play folk songs on her while wired on a fender two piece tube amplifier. She sang at homecomings when we used to play The Dawns Enveloped Ideas and othe New Wave songs, and I was on keyboard back then.

Then after a while she was placed on her stand. I watched her age slowly as I waited for the right time to get a hold of her. For I could hardly play a tune on her since my brother would dissuade me from playing a tune. Once I strum a bit of chords, my brother would come grabbing her from me saying "Gagamitin ko na yan, tama na yan!", running off with her to his room. And so as time passed, fads subsided and so did my brother’s attention toward her and he eventualy forgot all about her.

During the times of waiting, I  happened to swap a few chords and licks with my friends using their own acoustic guitars. I had this favorite lick which I played on the piano and later learned that it was derived from a pentatonic blues scale. And so I applied on strings what I have learned on the piano. It sounded good, and I was quite excited about the time when I could finally be able to play and hear it sound on her. The waiting took a while, and I was turning high school then, so I had to move to a nearer place around the school to concentrate on my studies. I never saw her again, at least during the school year.

The school year was over. Time to get packed and move back to my parent’s house. I was wondering what she’d look like when I returned. Would she be dressed in a different color? Would she have a new shiny set of stings? When I arrived, I looked around the corner where she used to sit. She was not there! I looked in my brother’s rooms and wasn’t there either. Worried of her whereabouts, I frantically asked our helper if she remembers where she last saw the instument. She vaguely recalls and pointed inconclusively towards the backyard. There lay old chairs, bottles, piles of old books, stacks of old rotten pieces of termite infested wood from a renovated part of the house, ready to be burned along with the trash. I sifted my way through the heap doubtful and in disbelief. To my suprise, she was indeed there, naked and broken. Frustrated, I brought her out in the fresh air as a few pieces of dust and rust fell off her. She was a mess! I quickly brought her in my room and cleaned her up. Luckily she was dry and wasn’t dampened by the pouring rains. She had missing knobs, machine heads, dented frets, and scratches all over her body. I had no choice but to bring her in for a major makeover. Originally I wanted to have her dressed with a black marble like finish with green colored cracks but she turned out different, and she looked fine.

And now, she sits happily along side a new  partner a  fender champion 110 (transistorized), which I bought from my  band mate Delta Slim. It sounds great and at par with the real tube amps when bypassed by a generic wah-pedal which I use as a phaser.

FENDER RACCOON!!!