Love them or hate them, there's no denying that these men, comprising the group called the Eraserheads, made a huge impact on Philippine popular culture when they burst into the local music scene in the 1990s.
They were just a bunch of kids back then, and it boggles the mind as to why and how they did what they did so successfully. There were other bands here too at the time, but they stood way above the competition for some reason. Maybe it was because their lyrics, though very simple, resonated with what people were feeling and thinking back then? Be that as it may, it seems their music makes quite an impact on younger audiences as well.
My 16-year-old son and some of his friends, for example, think the music of the Eraserheads is awesome. It made me think, when I was 16 years old, I had only just made the acquaintance of Ely Buendia (the band's lead vocalist) at the University of the Philippines' freshman dormitory, where we were both staying. Back then, the concept of a band like the Eraserheads was probably just a twinkle in his eye.
Fast-forward to 22 years later. The members of the Eraserheads have long since gone their separate ways, but decided to get back together for a show, and I'm with my son watching Ely, Marcus, Raymond, and Buddy performing onstage at a concert called "Eraserheads Reunion Concert: The Final Set."
I think it's actually pretty cool that my teenage son didn't mind going to a concert with his mom, that both he and I were singing our lungs out, that he and I locked eyes and went "ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh" and then cheered like crazy when the band started playing a song we didn't think they would play.
I'm not saying that I felt like a teenager again or someone in her twenties at the concert last week. I didn't feel like I was recapturing my youth. No, not at all. It was an experience that transcended time and age.
You know how during an orgasm you can't/don't think of anything else but the sensations that are coursing through and in you? The concert was pretty much that way for me: an almost-three-hour-long orgasm. During those hours, time didn't seem to exist. I was ageless. I was just someone who was immersed in the music that I love, from a (disbanded) band that I love, that was performing right in front of my eyes.
Maybe you can even call it group sex, because it looked and felt like almost all of the thousands of people there -- both "young" (like my son) and "old" (like me) were experiencing the same thing. The energy and goodwill radiating all around were almost palpable. If you've ever been to a concert by a band whose music you particularly enjoyed, I'm sure you can relate to what I'm talking about.
Love you, Eheads. Thanks for the awesome concert.