LAST BUT NOT THE LEAST
Eraserheads mesmerize fans at ‘Huling El Bimbo’ concert
TWO decades after it officially disbanded, the Eraserheads still attracted an estimated 75,000 people to attend Ang Huling El Bimbo, supposedly the band’s last major concert in the Philippines, at the SMDC Festival Grounds in Parañaque.
The venue was packed by the time the Diegos roused the audience with a ‘90s themed playlist —playing everything from “Everyday People” to “Laklak.”
Audio output wasn’t as impressive during the Eraserheads’ first set—the mixing of vocals and instruments could have been better. Sound engineers fixed it before the next two sets.
Music director mel ville na and the amp Big Band added an impressive brass section, though, while mikey am is to so, jazz nicolas and audrey dionisio proved worthy of being extra ’heads.
Fans again realized how enamoring Ely is as a frontman and guitarist; how talented Buddy is as ab assist; how skilled marcus is as a guitarist; and how exceptional Raimund is as a drummer—a rarity when he performs with his other bands. It was also a chance to remember the genius songwriting behind the Eraserhead’s discography.
The ‘heads have proven that their greatest legacy—their music—is one that hasn’t faded and will not fade with the passage of time. It continues to live in the hearts and minds and playlists of the people who supported them from day one.
These were the kids who patiently waited for the band’s songs to be played on the radio, called radio stations to vote so the songs would rank higher in charts, and eventually bought the band’s cassette tapes and compact discs with their savings.
They were your grade school or high school classmates, college buddies, friends, brothers and sisters.
They stood for hours in anticipation of the first song at the concert, but nonetheless screamed enthusiastic ally when the opening riff for “Superproxy” found its way to the speakers. They cheered loudly when the hologram of the late Francis Magalona appeared on stage to simulate a collaborative performance with his sons, el mo an dark in, and Ely’s son, Eon.
They probably didn’t mind standing for hours because they were having a fine time, just like in the song. They rejoiced upon realizing that the band was playing every track—except one— from its bestselling third album, “Cutterpillow,” in order. They sang “Gusto kong matutong mag-drive” to “Overdrive” even if they already knew how to drive, apologized for sucking at courtship as they sang to “Torpedo” and joined a field trip to the pencil factory, similar to the one mentioned in “Huwag Mo Nang Itanong.”
They had their own version of Kim, someone they missed during sembreak and knew what the phrase basketball sa banyo meant. They serenaded someone with “Ligaya,” promising to love that persons a tang ha li, saga bi at um a ga. or they were probably the late bloomer who was told, “Medyo pangit ka pa n’on” but who has since glowed up, worthy of an appearance on the centerfold of a magasin.
They were moved when the band performed “Lightyears” either because of its poignant lyrics or because it triggered an old, sad memory. Their mood lightened upon seeing Gary Valenciano on stage for “Christmas Party.”
They warned people against misconceptions or ma lin ga kala and advised them to face challenges with a smile. At the concert, they were startled when the band played the hard-hitting song “Insomnya” right after they had just stopped swaying their arms to “With a Smile.”
They felt lost and asked for the world to stop spinning—itigil muna ang pag-ikot ng m undo—via“s po li ari um ,” whose haunting lyrics and musical arrangement continues to baffle and enchant listeners.
They cussed with burning passion to “Pare Ko,” reminisced college memories with “Minsan,” and felt an instant high that prompted them to jump and headbang to “Alapaap” like teenagers stuck in 1994. They held hands, cried salty tears or both as the Eraserheads performed the last song for the evening; either because the lyrics echoed deeply personal sentiments (Magkahawak ang ating kamay/at walang kamalay-malay/na tinuruan mo ang puso ko/ Na umibig na tunay), or their profound love for the band. It could have been their last night together, the last time they’d ever see the band play, and sing and dance to their songs—their huling el bimbo.
They are probably everyone who took time out of their busy schedules to see the concert They are all of us.
We may have been 10 or 15 or 25 when we first discovered the Eraserheads and we may be writers and doctors and carpenters and mothers and fathers or all sorts of professions now, but back then we were all the same, under one umbrella, when we listened to and sought solace in the band’s songs.
And on the night of their recent concert, we found comfort in their songs anew. The Eraserheads told the stories of our youth. We may have forgotten those stories and perhaps only momentarily remembered them during the concert, but we never forgot—and will never forget— the songs we grew up with and for some, even grew old with.