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The Resurrection of Juan dela Cruz
By Eric S. Caruncho
Someone should build a shrine.
Or put up a plaque.
Or something.
People ought to know the exact spot where, a third
of a century ago, the Juan dela Cruz Band invented Pinoy rock.
"I wrote it in the toilet," recalls Joey "Pepe" Smith. "Twenty minutes before going onstage. I was
on acid at the time - Pink Elephants."
"It" is, of course, "Himig Natin," the unofficial anthem and harbinger of an entire genre of popular
music that would only much later become known as "Pinoy rock."
On December 5, 1972, rock impresario Dodie Gonzalez put up a concert at the Rizal Park Observatory. Headlining was the Juan
dela Cruz Band, which had been whittled down from a five-piece to a lean-and-mean power trio, in the manner of Cream and the Jimi Hendrix Experience - not to mention Blue Cheer - with Dodie's brother Wally on lead
guitar, Joey Smith on drums and Mike Hanopol on bass. Presciently, the concert was billed "Himig Natin."
Exactly two years before, Dodie Gonzalez had produced the Antipolo Rock Music Festival, for all intents and purposes a
blatant re-enactment of the Woodstock peace-and-love vibe, with the leading bands at the time.
As if to underscore the similarity, many of the bands played covers of songs from the "Woodstock" movie. (One
participant recalls hearing at least three versions of Santana's "Soul Sacrifice.") There were a few pot busts, and a couple of girls obligingly took their clothes off, to much hooting and cheering from
the crowd.
The stakes were higher at the Rizal Park concert. The name itself, "Himig Natin," our music, implied a proprietary
attitude and self-awareness absent in Antipolo.
There were a lot of things in the air in 1972. The emerging Filipino youth culture had branched off into two main strands:
the resurgent nationalism that had erupted in the First Quarter Storm of 1970, and the hippie-head subculture that defined itself through style, drugs and above all, music. Although then President Marcos had
declared martial law less than three months before, the young Pinoys gathered at the Rizal Park Observatory were in a celebratory mood, thankfully oblivious to what was to come.
Leave it to Pepe to put the current zeitgeist together in one coherent statement, in 20 minutes flat, and on acid at that.
"Pepe just thought about making a song backstage," recalls Wally. "Lumabas yung concept na Tagalog. You know
Pepe, he's good with impromptu."
Actually, Pepe already had the chord sequence and the melody in his head for a couple of years, and a few stray verses and
lyrics. But whether through serendipity, enhanced brain chemistry, or finely-honed improvisational skills, Pepe to this day says he doesn't know how he managed to pull everything together, complete with several
verses and a chorus. But Pinoy music would never be the same after he staggered out of that toilet, crib sheet in hand.
Mixed Reaction
It would be nice to recall the birth of Pinoy rock as some kind of collective epiphany, but if truth be told, the audience
reaction was mixed. Wally recalls that while most of the audience applauded "Himig Natin" when they performed it for the first time, a lot of the audience didn't know what to make of it. "Ano
yan?" summed up their puzzled reaction.
Most musicians seemed to take it for granted that rock songs should be sung in English. The idea of fusing rock music with
Tagalog lyrics was, in the language of the time, far out.
Pepe was, of course, not the first to rock out in Tagalog. Bobby Gonzalez probably had much claim to the mantle. With its Bill Haley-inspired syncopated
rhythm and walking bass line, his 1960s novelty hit "Hahabol-Habol" could very well be the first Tagalog rock n' roll song.
But Bobby Gonzalez (as far as I know, no relation to Wally) didn't have amps with volume knobs that went all the way up to
11. And sound was what the new rock music was all about - glorious walls of noise and distortion calculated to rattle the fillings in your parents' teeth.
So "Hahabol-Habol" was a one-off, until Juan dela Cruz happened along more than a decade later.
"Ang tagal na ng pinagsamahan naming tatlo" (The three of us have been through a lot together), says Wally
Gonzalez of the ties that bind the members of Juan dela Cruz together. "We've been together since 1967. Siguro it's destiny that we see each other every 10, 15 years."
We are in a well-equipped recording studio where the members of Juan dela Cruz are in the midst of their last rehearsal
before "Ang Pagkalas," their much-anticipated reunion concert set, appropriately enough, on the day before Independence Day.
At 55 and now a grandfather, Wally is still the coolest guy in the room, mainly because he doesn't say much.
"Mahiyain kasi ako" (I'm shy), he laughs. "Ewan ko nga kung bakit ako naging musikero (I really don't know
why I became a musician)."
The energy in the room rises several notches when Pepe Smith walks in, a nonstop stream of wisecracks, jokes and asides even
before he straps on his guitar. All things considered, Pepe seems to be in remarkably good health, except for what appears to be a missing lower palate that causes him to mush up his words. Pepe recently married
Wife No. 4, and taking his own advice years before in "Mamasyal sa Pilipinas," has settled in Baguio "upang magpalamig ng ulo (to cool my head)."
Last to arrive is Mike Hanopol, with his trademark beret and graphite Steinberger guitar, incongruously attired in a pair of
yellow rain pants. As always, Mike is all business: Almost as soon as he enters the room, he has plugged in and is calling off the count.
It has been a good seven years since they last played together (in the ill-fated 1998 reunion concert "Ang
Pagbabalik," whose producer mysteriously disappeared, after leaking videotapes of then President Estrada gambling in the casino to the media). It might as well have been yesterday. The trio slip effortlessly
into the groove as they open, ironically enough, with "Kahit Anong Mangyari," which many thought was going to be their swan song in 1981.
It helps that bass ace Dondi Ledesma is holding down the bottom end, and - shades of the Grateful Dead! - there are two
drummers: Wendell Garcia and Gilbert Nogales, both of whom would been in diapers when Juan dela Cruz first trod the planks. Filling out the sound with bluesy Hammond-like fills is Wowee Posadas in keyboards.
The trademark heavy riffery, however, is vintage Juan dela Cruz, and the band only gets tighter as they work through the
Pinoy rock songbook: "Balong Malalim," "Titser's Enemi," "Mamasyal sa Pilipinas," "Rak En Rol Sa Ulan," "Nadapa Sa Arina," "Beep Beep" and a host of others
that have stood the test of time.
Chemistry
According to Wally, the band's core audience consists of baby-boomers: '70s survivors, now fat and balding, who still
remember the good times whenever they hear a power chord. But there is also a smattering of younger listeners for whom the undiluted din of Juan dela Cruz is still a bracing revelation. "Ang Pagkalas"
hopes to bridge this generation gap by having guest performers from this century: Lourd de Veyra of Radioactive Sago Project (who, incidentally, calls Mike Hanopol "angkol"), Mark Abaya of Sandwich, Hannah
Romawac of Session Road and Kat Agarrado of Passage.
The main band chemistry, however, is still among the three original members. Wally, the original guitar hero, has his chops
back after a 15-year layoff. Mike is probably the most professional, having played the longest: He survived the disco era by, among other gigs, writing and recording many of the hits of Hagibis. And Pepe adds the
element of unpredictability and the cosmic sense of humor that makes what the band does rock n' roll. It is the kind of bond that only time and shared mileage can bring about, and which makes age irrelevant.
"Now, it really feels better to play music," says Wally.
Wally Gonzalez, Pepe Smith and Mike Hanopol were already seasoned musicians when they first came together as members of the
Downbeats in 1967. Wally and Mike had done time previously in the Jungle Cats, and Pepe was already a bonafide rock star as the Downbeats' manic drummer. In fact, he could boast of having opened for the Beatles
during their ill-fated 1966 Philippine concert, when Marcos thugs gave the Fab Four a taste of Pinoy hospitality.
Throughout the "combo" era of the 1960s, Pinoy musicians basically mimicked whatever the
dominant trends were in the West, from instrumental surf guitar music, to the Beatles-influenced Merseybeat sound, to the rhythm-and-blues based British invasion, on to psychedelia and blues-rock as the decade
closed. But that was about to change.
Interestingly enough, Juan dela Cruz' gestation period took place in Japan, where the three amigos landed a paying gig
as Zero History in 1969.
"We played covers of songs by the Doors, Grateful Dead and Jimi Hendrix for six months," recalls Wally. After
their contract expired, Pepe and Mike joined with some Japanese musicians to form Speed, Glue and Shinki, which landed a recording deal with Atlantic Records and managed to put out two albums, one of which was a
triple-record live set, now much sought-after by collectors.
Wally returned home to the Philippines in 1970, just in time for the Antipolo Rock Music Festival.
"It was [the late drummer] Edmond Fortuno who gave us the name Juan dela Cruz," he recalls, "The idea was for
us to be identified as Filipino, so he suggested Juan dela Cruz, the Filipino common tao."
The band further emphasized their kinship with the salt of the earth and declared their Filipino-ness by adopting a
carabao's head as their band's logo. It was clearly a paradigm shift before Juan dela Cruz, bands were judged on how closely they could approximate the Western originals, if their covers were
"plakadong-plakado" (record perfect). After Juan dela Cruz, originality became the name of the game.
The earliest incarnation of the band which included Wally, Edmond Fortuno and Bing Labrador was short-lived, however.
Eventually Fortuno and Labrador left to form the equally-legendary Anakbayan, whose name likewise reflected the nationalist mold that Juan dela Cruz had set.
"I decided to keep the name and form a new group to record," says Wally.
The result was "Up in Arms," an album which was eventually released by Vicor Records in 1972.
In an interesting time capsule, Billboard correspondent Oskar Salazar wrote: The Juan dela Cruz Band is one of the few less
commercialized electric bands in the Philippines, a Southeast Asian archipelago which claims to have more western-oriented musicians per square mile than any country in the world. The impact of the group in the
local hard and mellow rock scene is tremendous considering it was organized only two years ago. In December of 1970, the band was featured in the first open field rock festival in the Philippines, the 'Antipolo Rock
Festival.' The band's popularity gained terrific momentum in September of 1971 when it reaped a singular honor in backing up the 'Jesus Christ, Superstar' rock opera production at the Cultural Center of the
Philippines (CCP). Then in December of the same year, the band garnered its crowning glory when again, for the first time in the Philippines, a rock group on its own, backed by a full symphony orchestra (the
National Philharmonic) was presented in concert at the prestigious CCP. No other group in the Philippines gained so much greater heights of success in relatively a very short span of time. This album debut is a
monumental testimony. It is the first venture of its kind in this part of the musical globe… The Juan dela Cruz Band now reaches out for a wider international audience.
The international audience, however, proved indifferent to cover versions of Frank Zappa songs ("Mystery Roach")
and instrumental jams titled "Requiem for a Head." Local audiences weren't much more enthusiastic. Given the record company's nonexistent promotion for the album, sales were scant. This incarnation of Juan
dela Cruz, which included Wally on lead guitar, Clifford Ho on bass, Rene Sogueco on keyboards and Sandy Tagarro on drums, was also short-lived. (Ironically, "Up In Arms" - a commercial failure at the time
- is now a much-sought after collectors item. A German vinyl bootleg is reportedly selling for 80 Euros, and original copies fetch even higher prices on E-bay.)
Luckily, both Pepe and Mike had returned home from Japan, just in time to midwife the birth of Pinoy rock.
"After Himig Natin,' Dodie said: Why not record more Tagalog songs, and remain a trio?" says Wally. "Wala
nang covers, puro originals lang."
Rock and rhythm
The band went full steam in short order, they wrote and recorded the songs that would eventually be released as "Himg
Natin" in 1973, including the title track and such landmarks as "Rak En Rol sa Ulan" and "Mamasyal sa Pilipinas."
In order to promote the album, Dodie Gonzalez, who by this time was managing and producing Juan dela Cruz full time, bought
some air time on the AM rock station DZRJ. It was to be a one-hour weekly special devoted to Juan dela Cruz' music.
"I think it was Emil Quinto or Alan Austria (both DJs at the time) who coined the term 'Pinoy Rock,'" recalls
Wally. "Cousin Hoagy added the term 'and Rhythm' and that became the name of the program."
"Pinoy Rock and Rhythm" proved enormously influential. Although Juan dela Cruz remained mainstays, they were soon
joined by Anakbayan, Maria Cafra, Petrified Anthem - a veritable deluge of bands now able to declare themselves Pinoy rockers, and proud of it. As more and more bands emerged, performing and recording their own
compositions, Pinoy rock became a genre unto its own. Eventually, "Pinoy rock and Rhythm" began to be aired daily, on the station's own time, as the music began to attract the mainstream rock audience.
In 1974, the band released "Super Session," a live concert recording, to keep the fans happy. The following year,
they came out with "Maskara," which yielded more hits for the band: "Beep Beep," "Balong Malalim," "Nadapa sa Arina."
The Juan dela Cruz Band ruled the Pinoy rock roost, selling out concerts. In fact, they were one of the few bands which
could do without club gigs. But stardom and the rock n' roll lifestyle had begun to take its toll. After "Maskara," the band members felt it was time to take a much needed respite from the road, and each
other. By this time, all three members were married and raising families, and were more than ready to go their separate ways.
As a "supergroup," the idea was for each member to pursue their own solo
projects. Typically, Mike Hanopol was first out of the starting gate. He had been itching to do his own stuff, releasing his first solo album "Buhay Musikero" to critical and commercial success. Two more
albums followed in quick succession.
Wally's first solo album, "Tunog Pinoy," didn't fare as well, but his second album "On The Road,"
released in 1977, yielded a radio hit in "Wally's Blues."
By this time, mainstream tastes had shifted from the heavy sound of classic Pinoy rock to poppier, more melodic variants
such as Sampaguita's debut single "Pabonggahan." Pinoy rock had also spawned Pinoy folk-rock with the success of Asin, Banyuhay and Freddie Aguilar.
Juan dela Cruz probably thought it was time to bow out, but with a bang. They reunited briefly for one last hurrah: 1981's
"Kahit Anong Mangyari," which proved that the old chemistry was still there in spite of six years' separation.
It would be 17 years before they set foot on the same stage again.
Now is probably as good a time as any for a Juan dela Cruz renaissance.
For the last couple of years, Wally has been performing regularly again, after emerging from semi-retirement.
"For 10 years, I didn't hold a guitar," he says. "Buti nga, medyo marunong pa ako ngayon" (It's a good
thing I still know how to play now).
This is classic Wally Gonzalez understatement, because in fact, he is playing as well as he ever has, thanks to twice-weekly
club gigs as Wally Gonzalez and Friends in Chaquico's in Makati and Chakik's in Pasig. Those slippery-slidey blues runs now come as effortlessly as they used to in Juan dela Cruz' heyday.
Having retired from the family business, a shipping firm, he is now more or less back in the saddle again. At 55, however,
he does admit to feeling the years.
"This is when you start paying for what you did 30 years ago," he laughs.
But the more things change, the more things stay the same.
There has been talk of a Juan dela Cruz CD box set, which would conveniently compile the band's recorded output (and
hopefully some previously unreleased rarities), but Wally says they are still trying to negotiate a more favorable royalty rate from the recording company.
This only brings home the sad fact that even a band as important as Juan dela Cruz has not been able to make a living off
their music.
Pepe Smith finally has an album out - "Idiosyncrasies" - but is currently embroiled in a legal battle with his
former manager and record company. He claims that the album was released without his permission, and without him seeing a single cent from the sale of the rights.
But all this is forgotten - at least for the time being - when the band plugs in their guitars.
As Pepe Smith once sang:
"Malalaman mo kung papaano
Liligaya sa buhay
Pagdating ng panahon."
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