Vintage songs are great. But new numbers...

In the 10 days I was in Manila, my siblings cringed at the fact that I didn’t know songs released in 2016 or 2017. So they made me listen to their music. On one hand, it was torture but some of the songs they played were quite good

Let me begin by using a cliché most travel writers use — a journey without a smartphone. While I was in the Philippines recently on vacation, I had to, by default, do without my phone. In the excitement of going home for my brother Charles’s graduation, and seeing everyone I love, I forgot to back up my phone. Charles had to hand his phone down to me. So while I did technically have a new phone, it was without apps, and most importantly — without my music.

Despite that forced circumstance — minus my phone and music — it felt good to be disconnected from the world. For 10 days, I had no access to WhatsApp or anyone from Dubai. And that made me focus on what and who was in front of me. I gave my old decrepit, albeit reliable phone to my third brother, Zyan.

Initially, I thought the trip was going to be the longest 10 days of my life. I was without my carefully curated playlist of rock and roll and jazz standards. Some, I pride myself on having been able to discover on my own. This knack for listening to obscure bands along with legends is something I got from my grandfather.

When I was a toddler, he introduced me to ‘a sky of blue’ and ‘a sea of green’. While every other child in the city watched Disney shows or whatever was on Cartoon Network, grandpa played Yellow

Submarine — the musical film to calm me. Those days of being carried in his arms formed my musical compass — and John, Paul, George and Ringo found their way to Pepperland.

Skip to now — three days into my involuntary ‘musical exile’. We were on a road trip to the countryside on the way to see my dad’s mother. My siblings busied themselves with their phones as I stared out of the car window. The roads had changed. These were the same routes we took to go to the countryside when we were younger.

On the trip, my grandfather lent me his iPod. Perhaps knowing my plight of not being able to play Hey Jude, he told me to play some of his tunes. I was truly home.

For the rest of the way, I was listening and singing to the tune of The Rolling Stones, Grand Funk Railroad, and Creedence Clearwater Revival. It reminded me of this scene in Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 when Peter Quill’s adoptive father, Yondu gives him an MP3 player and Quill plays Father and Son by Cat Stevens, reflective of their relationship.

In the 10 days I was in Manila, my siblings cringed at the fact that I didn’t know certain songs released in 2016 (or was it 2017?). So they made me listen to their music. On one hand, it was torture because I’ve finally reached the age where I look down on whatever the kids are listening to these days. On the other hand, some of the songs they played were quite good.

Then, over dinner they played a few numbers that made me question their tastes — Philippine gangster rap. Back in my day, that kind of music was only played on public transport as jeepneys blitzed through the roads. Yet, here they were, playing and dancing to it over dinner. One song stuck in my head — Ngayong Gabi (Tonight) by Al James. When I listen to it, I am transported to the dinner table that night when we laughed and grooved to it.

Zyan also introduced me to some local indie music. One was from a folk rock act named Ben&Ben and another from his favourite band: IV of Spades (some boys donning 1970s inspired get-up). At first I dismissed these boys as Beatles wannabes but my brother told me about a song of theirs entitled

Sentimental. Zyan added that the song is a dig at the Philippine president, his cronies, and blind followers. And if there’s anything I love more than a good song, it’s a good song with a dash of political relevance.

Now, I am back in Dubai and have since introduced Ben&Ben’s Kathang Isip (Imagination, in English) to colleagues. Most of them liked the song despite not understanding the lyrics. It’s a good moment, to see faces light up as the first few strums of the guitar play and the lyrics ease in. Perhaps music is more a universal language than English.

As the adage goes, ‘We travel to learn’. In those ten days in Manila, where I was out of touch with the rest of the world, I learned that I should listen to more modern music. Being an old codger is nice and all (they don’t make songs like they used to) but some of these songs are attached to moments. And it’s the moments that count, isn’t it?