If you love Wolfgang, help Basti
The charismatic front man of the hard-rocking Pinoy band is up against a health challenge
IWAS a high school freshman in 1993 when my father decided that I was ready to watch my first rock gig.
At the time, I had just been to MC Hammer’s concert at Araneta Coliseum, and nearby was Club Dredd—an unfamiliar, intriguing territory.
Inside, it was weird to see egg trays on Dredd’s walls and the ceiling for acoustic purposes; the place teemed with scruffy, long-haired guys.
My only idea of rock ‘n’ roll then was what my dad would play on the car stereo. I had no clue what band was going to play at Dredd that night, but I was pretty sure it wouldn’t be playing bubblegum pop.
I half-expected my ears to bleed from the noise, but they didn’t. On the contrary, they were charmed and I, seduced into the local band scene.
That gig made me realize
that hard rock music could be beautiful, and that good music doesn’t always come from mainstream radio.
Fast-forward to 1999. I attended the NU Rock Awards for the first time and saw the same band that taught me to appreciate homegrown independent musicians win the Listener’s Choice award. The band’s front man, Basti Artadi, bagged Vocalist of The Year award for the third time in a row.
By then I knew that Wolfgang had established a name in the Pinoy rock scene. It won Album and Artist of the Year awards for 1996’s “Semenelin,” with Vocalist, Bassist and Drummer of the Year awards for Artadi, Mon Legaspi and Wolf Gemora, respectively; 1997’s “Wurm” went platinum; and its fourth album, “Serve in Silence,” has just been released.
The three albums were a major record deal, an acknowledgment from the music industry that Wolfgang had indeed crossed over from being obscure to pretty damn famous.
While the lyrical content of Wolfgang’s songs and the arrangements were much heavier than that of other then rising bands, these distinct features may actually have been Wolfgang’s edge over the competition.
The band will never be as amusing to listen to as, say, Parokya ni Edgar, and its songs will never be as easy to relate to as those of Eraserheads, but one can’t deny that no other band from that era—aside from Razorback, perhaps—came close to being as hard-hitting Pinoy rock as this one.
Undeniable talent
With the meteoric rise in Wolfgang’s popularity came the recognition of each individual band member. Not surprisingly, Artadi, as lead singer, was one of the most recognized, and not merely for his quintessential rock-star good looks, but more importantly, for his undeniable talent.
For instance, his vocals on the first few lines in “Mata ng Diyos” is foreboding; and then, as the song progresses, his tone is tormented, as if his whole being is horrified at the images depicted in the lyrics.
That’s just one example of how he projected his emotions in the Wolfgang canon.
Artadi has ventured into other projects. “Brain Salad” was a recording project, a collaboration with Razorback’s Dave Aguirre, Brian Velasco and Louie Talan. The first live performance happened only this year at the Jack Daniel’s Indie Fest.
A local production of Andrew Lloyd Weber’s “Jesus Christ Superstar” saw Artadi play the title role. He returns to the stage this month in 9 Works Theatrical’s staging of “American Idiot,” in which he plays St. Jimmy.
Since the cast is headed by Artadi and other prominent figures in the local music scene, “American Idiot” is expected to draw rock and theater fans alike.
On stage at Jack Daniel’s Indie Fest and at the press conference for “American Idiot,” Artadi hinted that he wouldn’t be performing much longer. At the Indie Fest, there was sadness in his eyes when he admitted that, soon, he wouldn’t be playing in a band anymore.
While it may or may not be connected to his previous claims, his Facebook post on Tuesday came as a shock to many. He talked about his medical condition—a benign facial nerve tumor that affects facial movement and requires a procedure to correct, but only temporarily.
To help fund the treatment, he is selling T-shirts through Jeepney Rockstop Philippines.
The shirt shows an image of his face, but it’s not there for vanity. “It’s just a picture of my face which I thought would be a good symbol for me getting back the lost symmetry, so, no, it’s not because I’m full of myself. I thank God every day because I’m lucky that this thing still left me with the ability to sing; what would have really sucked is if it took 100 percent of the motion from the get-go,” he said.