The fidelity of indios
March 1, 2009
It's all a gamble. And it's all worth it.
Hundreds of years ago, being called an indio was not exactly flattering. Our history books and other depictions of the time carry with them all sorts of derogatory connotations of the word: to be an indio was to be an indolent, idiotic, inconsequential good-for-nothing, of less worth than the ilustrados, the peninsulares, the high-nosed colonial masters.
But it's 2009. Tectonic plates have budged inches since then. And now three thirty-something musicians are trying to turn their indio-ness into a source of pride.
Gerard Manabat, Jamee Orcino and Reginald Tamayo formed their small group, Hi-Fi Indios, in mid-2006, playing what they called “creative generic” music, a fusion of influence from of their favorite artists -- Led Zeppelin, Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Black Sabbath, Sting, Dave Matthews Band and jazz pianist Chick Corea, among others -- and their individual styles and Pinoy sensibilities. The result is Out of the Ashes, their maiden album, launched by Viva Records just last October.
The group stumbled into a break – their first, they would later on insist -- after countless attempts to get themselves noticed. One evening, they happened to be performing at a bar a floor above where Viva's big boss was dining. Introductions were made, pleasantries exchanged, sample works submitted. And just like that, they had their deal. Serendipitous, really. Nowadays, the Indios do the rounds of malls and television stations promoting their album. Gigs in various parts of the city also keep them busy.
But on the day of this interview, there were no instruments in sight. No microphones, no amplifiers and other effects whatsoever. There were a few wooden chairs and a ceiling fan playing witness to the Indios' recollection of all they have been through, an anticipation of all that might still come and a constant awareness of what sustains them.
Hi-fi, of course, stands for high fidelity. It's an attempt at sounding techie, in keeping with the times. But it also pertains to the virtue -- theirs, and that of all genuine Filipino musicians. The Indios have nursed their love for music at an early age, dreamed of attaining rock-star status like all others, pursued it with a passion that only young people are capable of, faced disappointments and harsh realities, wandered off into other fields – and then came back, resolute and committed like never before.
**
Gerard (bass guitar, vocals) had been enamored with music since he was nine years old. He enrolled in the UST conservatory of music and formed bands with fellow musicians he met along the way. They played “cover” (interpretation of other artists') songs in their gigs.
But just to see what the outside world was like, Gerard decided to go into criminology. Soon he started missing his music. He had also begun writing his own songs. He promptly went back, and discovered that performing his own compositions gave him an even greater high.
Reggie (lead guitar) tried to venture into the more profitable aspect of music – playing popular, Top 40 songs. However, doing this did not prove to be very rewarding, psychologically, that is. He felt as though he was hardly being himself. He started to play his own compositions as well.
Jamee's (drums) parents did not see music as a real career option. He appreciated their position and did his best to compromise, earning a degree in computer science and finding employment in some telecommunication companies. Music stayed only in the background – in his spare time, he worked as an instructor in the Yamaha School of Music.
Only then, after “proving” something to his parents, did he wholly respond to the lure of music again. And even now, in a visible effort to merge passion and practicality, he runs a band rehearsal studio in his neighborhood where he also gets to meet, and advise, up-and-coming bands.
In these beginners, the Indios see themselves as they were many years before. They try to tell them that the road is not a single happy song. On the contrary it's a string of disappointments, jarring mistakes and difficult choices. For each moment of apparent success, dues have already been paid.
There is a difference between players and musicians, the Indios say. It’s the latter that stick it out: what matters is being able to go where your passion drives you.
**
Is an album, then, the be-all and end-all of their efforts? Not so, the Indios say. For one, the problem of piracy and society’s attitude towards artists (who don’t enjoy the same esteem as, say, lawyers and doctors do) make the industry’s rewards more psychic than financial. Nonetheless, the phrase “the more, the merrier” works well here. Philippine music is thriving; it is exuberant. As it should be.
To be sure, this is just the beginning, and even then, there are no guarantees. Differences in attitude and personality threaten any group. Fortunately, Hi-Fi Indios is a closely knit group of three who see each other as brothers. Actually, their relatively small size (other bands have more members) is seen as an advantage: it makes working together easier, the resolution of differences faster, the flow and exchange of ideas more fluid.
But how does Hi-Fi Indios define itself in a vast sea of bands ands individual artists? “That’s not something we plan or structure,” Gerard says. They just play from their guts, constantly work on their skills and try to reach out to their audience. What comes out is an “organic, infectious” sound that is characteristically theirs.
Songs decide the fate of a band, but philosophy adds substance and flavor. Hi-Fi Indios take pride in their ability to cull from various influences, come up with something unique and remain true to their calling. Typically Filipino – and does it not just make you proud?
