Last May it seemed that the two songs that were absolutely inescapable — blaring from jeepney speakers, playing in the background of TV noon time shows or in record stores — were Daddy Yankee’s “Gasolina” (good) and Gwen Stefani’s “Hollaback Girl” (terrible). This time around, there were two other songs as well: Orange and Lemons’ “Pinoy Ako [I Am Pinoy],” a fist-pumping, proud-to-be-Filipino pop song that, by all accounts, has served as an unofficial Philippine national anthem. Which is rather ironic (Tagalog readers will relish the lyrics), considering that a) the track was reportedly plagiarized from a song by the Care, circa the early ’80s (check here for details), and b) the song was the theme to the hit TV show Pinoy Big Brother, which, as you can guess, is a Filipino adaptation of the British original. (If you use Firefox you can open the pages above on separate tabs and play the streaming files at the same time.)

At this point it seems unfair to criticize them for taking their name from an XTC album; my favorite Filipino band took its name from a David Lynch film, after all.

The second song also has Filipino connections: the Black-Eyed Peas’ “My Humps,” just about one of the most annoying songs ever. I know it’s supposed to be tongue-in-cheek, but still. It’s further proof, unfortunately, of a truth becoming ever clearer, which I hesitate, ever so slightly, to declare publicly, but will do anyway: the Black-Eyed Peas suck.

Anyhow, here is a little roundup of albums I was able to pick up and listen to (either bought or borrowed from my sister):

Barbie Almalbis, The Singles

In the world of one-hit (or one-album) wonders that is the Philippine music market, Barbie Almalbis is already something of a veteran. This compilation includes her work with the Hungry Young Poets as well as with Barbie’s Cradle, and it’s as good a snapshot of sharp ’90s Filipino indiepop as you will get.

Isha, Time and Again

While the clear commercial hook here are the sincere piano-jazz cover versions of ’80s hits — Tears For Fears’ “Everybody Wants To Rule The World,” a clumsy version of the Go-Go’s “Head over Heels,” and a lovely reading of my second-favorite Madonna song, “Cherish” — the standouts, interestingly, are the arrangements of some overplayed standards. “I’ll Be Seeing You” is appropriately mournful; “Our Love Is Here To Stay” is turned into a pop torch ballad; “Round Midnight” is a jittery, caffeinated affair, belying the calmness of her vocals. The other half of the album — which makes it rather oddly sequenced — is filled with her own compositions which to my ear sound like “Silent All These Years”-era Tori Amos. Not a plus in my book, but I should listen to them more; songs that reference Milan Kundera can’t hurt. (I still think she should have recorded under her full name, Pearlsha Abubakar.)

Isha, Katakataka

This, however, is the real gem — a delightful and slightly sultry four-song EP of original songs in Tagalog about the things that matter most: love, longing, and the summer breeze.

Juana, Misbehavior

This quartet (two women, two men) plays smart, no-frills power pop; in an ideal world, the first track (“Connected”) would be a Philippine middle-class teen angst anthem, upbeat but full of the burden of unfulfilled expectations. “Reyna ng Quezon City” is even better, kind of like a wiser Tagalog version of J. Lo’s “Waiting for Tonight.”

Rivermaya, Greatest Hits 2005

I’m probably remembering things wrong, but wasn’t there a time when Rivermaya didn’t sound like (or look like) Coldplay? Half the songs on this anthology have those faux-inspirational, hold-your-head-up-high lyrics that U2 should have abandoned twenty years ago; the other half sounds like bad Radiohead — you know, kind of like Coldplay. In a word: insufferable.

The Tilt-Down Men, Together with The Tilt-Down Men

The Tilt-Down Men occupied that space between the British Invasion and AM-radio soft pop; as such, you get the almost requisite covers of songs by the Beatles, the Hollies, the Lettermen and the Bee Gees. The packaging, unfortunately, is quite sparse, and I would have loved to know whether this exemplified what the mainstream “combos” of the late-’60s played. Either way, it’s an early chapter in the fascinating careers of the Sottos; future scholars of the political and cultural dimensions of the Sotto dynasty should take note.

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Somewhat in response to Liza’s quite sad post, I’m temporarily scuttling the all-Japanese downloads plan to include yet another cover version of Spandau Ballet’s “True.”

I always loved Tony Hadley’s histrionics, actually. In many ways it’s the perfect karaoke song (for 30-somethings like me) because a) I was there, and b) it requires actual performance on the part of the singer, because of the way he holds the mic, and the way he closes his eyes, and the little break in Hadley’s voice after “And I want the truth to be said!” goes up an octave after the bridge — and then the dramatic pause, which means the performer has to, um, pause dramatically as well. Steve Buscemi got it totally right in The Wedding Singer. (The only downside: what to do during Steve Norman’s cheesy sax break.)

Anyway, here’s Filipina R&B singer Arnee Hidalgo, from her 2003 album Cold Summer Nights, which you US-based folks can get at Kabayan Central. This was a version when “acoustic” was all the rage in the Philippines (it still is): practically just vocals and guitar, kind of when “unplugged” was really unplugged. She changes the lyrics a couple of times, but that’s all right; it’s still a sweet cover, with the Cheesy Sax Break now turned into a slightly shorter Cheesy Guitar Break. In an ideal world her version should have been some sort of summer cuddle-anthem and done more for the original than P.M. Dawn’s “Set Adrift on Memory Bliss.”

Hear it (7.74 mb, 192 kbps mp3).

(Speaking of ’80s covers, there’s a fantastic cover of “Do You Really Want To Hurt Me?” — coincidentally, another Wedding Singer song — done by The Last Town Chorus, which really makes me want to hear their album.)

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Back in the day when I first discovered the joys of html, I had folks vote on the “greatest Pinoy pop singles of all time,” and they’re listed here. (I finally shut it down a few years ago, when I had no time to tabulate the votes anymore.)

I had wanted people to write in, with longer comments, about why they chose a particular song, but no one ever did. (Some people spammed my mailbox with dozens of votes for Side A — come on, folks, it’s just an online poll.) Well, neither did I; I’ve written about “Magasin” by the Eraserheads before, but not about my absolute favorite, “Alapaap.” (In case you’re wondering, Rey-An Fuentes and Tillie Moreno’s “Umagang Kay Ganda” and the Apo Hiking Society’s “Mahirap Magmahal Nang Syota Nang Iba” are my other two favorites.)

Here’s the top 20, taken from everyone who bothered to vote:

1. Freddie Aguilar: “Anak”
2. Side A: “Forevermore”
3. Eraserheads: “Alapaap”
4. Eraserheads: “Pare Ko”
5. Martin Nievera: “You Are My Song”
6. Eraserheads: “Ang Huling El Bimbo”
7. Gary Valenciano: “Sana Maulit Muli”
8. Eraserheads: “Ligaya”
9. Rivermaya: “214″
10. Rachel Alejandro: “Paalam Na”
11. Eraserheads: “Minsan”
12. Juan de la Cruz Band: “Himig Natin”
13. Rivermaya: “Himala”
14. Eraserheads: “With a Smile”
15. Dina Bonnevie: “Bakit Ba Ganyan”
16. Hotdog: “Manila”
17. True Faith: “Perfect”
18. Asin: “Masdan Mo Ang Kapaligiran”
19. Sharon Cuneta: “Ikaw”
20. Mike Hanopol: “Laki sa Layaw”

It’s actually a decent mix (except for that Side A song) of old and relatively new, with different styles (folk, pop, big torch ballad, scuzzy 70′s rock). But the topics are all over the place; in order, they’re guilt, love, getting high, frustrated love, love, frustrated love, dying love, love, love, dying love, friendship, nationalism, frustrated love, love, puppy love, Manila, love, the environment, love, and… a kind of companion piece to “Anak.” (In a sense it’s all about love: love for a city, love for a country, love for drugs…)

There’s no arguing with the choice of Freddie Aguilar’s song; it was a massive hit all over Asia when it came out. It possessed all the right elements: it was easy to sing, Aguilar had a great voice, it had syrupy strings, it was weepy, it was about mothers. And while it didn’t have the immediacy of a pop song about love, it still whacked you upside the head with guilt. (Though in my opinion his version of “Bayan Ko” is the ultimate Freddie single for sheer lump-in-the-throat goodness.)

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