We were such children in the presence of rock n’ roll gods Mr. Big.
Bea was just grinning ear to ear the whole time and looked like she was having a mini-orgasm every time Eric Martin looked her way, while my jaw literally dropped at 0:31 of the video when I realized the band was standing before me. How very undignified and un-Superstar-like.
We are the highest order Dorks from the land of Dorktopia. I am officially changing my name to Dorky Dorkenstein McDorkster, and am changing my website address from MDJSuperstar.com to MDJSuperdork.com.
Paul Gilbert and Billy Sheehan have such ginormous hands. And you all know what they say about men with big hands – I think there’s a very real reason why they call the band, “Mr. Big”…
And the whole time, I was just begging myself silently, “please don’t start giggling like a schoolgirl, please don’t start giggling like a schoolgirl…”
Legendary 90s rock band Mr. Big was incredibly thrilled to FINALLY meet Manila’s resident Rated-R Superstar, MDJ, at the VIP Meet & Greet in Singapore last October 18th. Confided Billy Sheehan to CNN.com immediately afterwards, “It was like… coming home.”
In an unparalleled act of graciousness, MDJ Superstar condescended to bestow upon the aging rock icons personalized sketches of each one demonstrating their respective musical talents.
Eric Martin was floored by the MDJ original piece of artwork highlighting his famous cheekbones, hair plugs, and cherry-red collagen pout.
Billy Sheehan was rendered speechless by the intense, brooding likeness MDJ put down on paper of him clutching his famous Fender bass guitar.
Paul Gilbert was in a mild sweat and later described the sensation of his pants tightening, as he reveled in the sketch of him that the rest of Mr. Big described as making him look “like an older Captain Jack Sparrow… only sexier.”
Pat Torpey reportedly experienced mild palpitations, and was advised by the physician on hand to refrain from strenuous activities over the next two weeks, all from the thrill of seeing himself sketched in a manner that was reminiscent of The Terminator.
Motivated by such enthralling presents from the famed MDJ Superstar, the band proceeded to put on a spectacular 2 1/2 hour show featuring such trademark Mr. Big hits as “Green-Tinted 60s Mind,” “Just Take My Heart,” “Addicted To The Rush,” as well as covers of AC/DC’s hard-rocking anthem “Highway To Hell,” and Deep Purple’s classic “Smoke On The Water.”
In an attempt to reciprocate the supreme generosity demonstrated by The Superstar, the band offered MDJ $25,000 and a 2-hour romp with their drunk Venezuelan groupies. MDJ Superstar, however, politely declined.
“Generosity,” he gently remonstrated the band, “is its own reward.”
When you try to pull together the Eraserheads after a venom-filled split over he-said-she-said accusations and primadonna personalities erupting, you know some drama is bound to happen.
A sponsor (the main promoter, actually) being pressured into pulling out at the last minute: check. (Although it would certainly have helped if they had sent Gorgoro’s very sensible, well-thought out defense to the Department of Hate, este, the Department of Health…)
A death in the immediate family of the lead singer two days prior to the concert: check.
Tickets going on sale only on Wednesday for a venue that seats up to 40,000, and the concert happening in a matter of three days: check.
MDJ Superstar not being able to decide on whether he should wear his Adidas Stan Smiths or an old scruffy pair of Lacoste sneakers to the concert: check.
But there were certainly some lovely parts to kick off the Eraserheads Reunion concert.
The 10:00 countdown to showtime was an inspired touch. Every time the clock hit a new minute, the crowd would erupt into cheers, and for the first time I felt the emotion of being wrapped in a giant 10-second countdown like what New Yorkers do on New Year’s Eve. Sony BMG went all out with a 70-foot tall LED screen backing the entire main stage, where they could flash various visuals and photographs during each song – sort of like watching a live music video. There were boom cameras swinging all over the place to capture the hordes that had gathered, and when the Randy Orton-esque pyro went off during the final chorus of “Alapaap”, that was pure heaven. I kept on waiting for Ely Buendia to strike the trademark RKO “You may admire my awesomeness now, peasants” pose.
I even forgave the bouncers for not letting me wear my giant red Topman belt into the concert grounds – I confess that the giant belt buckle shaped like a star could certainly have been deadly in the hands of a ferocious, buff n’ tough, roid-crazed Brahma bull such as myself.
Drama was overflowing. And all in a good way, so far.
Cut to the end of “Lightyears”, their last song of the first set – Ely Buendia slowly sinking to his ass on the floor of the stage, leaning on his guitar for support. We all thought that was just part of the drama – Pinoy rock n’ roll’s prodigal son willingly dropping down to put himself 5-feet closer to screaming fans who had grown up on, cried to, fallen asleep to, or fallen in and out of love to his unique brand of music in the 1990s.
I wasn’t actually inside the venue when they announced that he had been rushed to the hospital as a precautionary measure for his still-shaky heart. I was outside trying to catch my breath.
But the flood of people slowly filing out the Fort Bonifacio Open Field with stunned looks on their faces said it all – it was over.
I felt bad that we never got to share one malutong “TANG INA!” with the ‘heads in “Pare ko”. Never got to “Wooo!” along to “Magasin”. Never got to swoon along to “Ang Huling El Bimbo”.
But I forgive Ely.
I forgive the DOH, I forgive the fashion police bouncer who confiscated my belt. I even forgive that one fat sweaty bitch who grabbed the last bottle of Vitwater from the concession cooler when I was dying of thirst. They didn’t give us the best concert in the world, but they gave us something that was good enough. It was good enough to remind us that when you’re down, or happy, or in love, or bored, or hungry, or horny, the best companions you can have in the world are a guitar, a pick, an inspiration, and a tune in your head.
There was a lot of drama that night. Not all of it was good, but there was even less that was bad.
It’s just too bad that when life tried to bring together Philippine rock n’ roll’s greatest band back for one last night, it couldn’t be, as Ely sang to all 40,000 of us in “Fruitcake”, a piece of cake.
And I’m still steamed as hell that nobody bothered to tell me, of all people, that the concert went on at Saguijo with Ebe Dancel filling in for Ely…
