I saw on my Facebook feed a post from prolific songwriter and recording artist Jim Paredes, who expressed his delight in receiving two trophies from the Filipino Society of Composers, Authors, and Publishers, or FILSCAP. This association gathers both the brightest Filipino tunesmiths and, uh, the most devoted-to-their-craft struggling artists.
He was recognized for, as his post said, “being among the top 5 royalty earners for 2024” and “for having the top-earning local song for 2024.”
The event where he got them was this year’s FILSCAP Fellowship Party, which, being a member myself, I would have likely attended had I been physically present in the Philippines.
Should I say that with the celebrated discography of APO Hiking Society, of which he is a chief songwriting member, it is not much of a surprise to see him land on the Top 5 royalty earners list. It must have helped that he and the other surviving member of their iconic troika, Boboy Garrovillo, are touring around—visible and naturally showcasing how great their hit list is.
What’s actually more interesting, which he also noted in his post, was the fact that the said top-earning song is one he wrote, as he recalled, around 1983: “When I Met You.”
Can’t argue that the piece is one of the best Filipino-written songs, and it truly deserves such an accolade. Even the track’s bass line on the APO version is intoxicating beauty in its own simplicity and seamlessness.
I am acknowledging Jim’s triumph in light of this trend of artists forcing themselves to be current and (this word) relevant, which arguably spawned manufactured singles banking on famous acts who can’t really sing and bands that to me look like crybabies churning out toxic drama instead of truly sincere love anthems. I’m saying this to emphasize that the one who writes authentic poetry and melody, which are done to express and not impress, and who thinks that it’s the song and not the artist, still rules!
“I am amazed,” Jim noted, referring to his 42-year-old magnum opus. “Usually, the top-earning song is a new song, often sung by a new artist.”
“I can only conclude that the younger generations have really discovered us,” he argued. “We notice that attendees to our concerts have a lot of young people (11 to 30s now), even in the provinces.”
Whoever thinks that whatever you spoon-feed the Pinoy market, they’ll just eat up lacks vision. People in general look for songs that will stand the test of time and artists who are true to their craft and follow the basics, not the ones noisily trying to be different to go viral, and who don’t give a damn about inspired songwriting.
Jim is grateful and gives a nod to the group who made him, which is the mark of a great artist: “Whatever the reasons are, I just want to thank everyone who listens to APO.”
I think many people did Jim dirty at times he expressed himself in political tones. Well, we have to be reminded that he penned “Handog Ng Pilipino Sa Mundo.” It’s a song about fighting tyranny and promoting peaceful change, with a gloriously uplifting melody. Perhaps none of his haters can create something like that. And that alone should put them in place.
One way or another, a basher may have enjoyed listening to an APO song that Jim wrote.
If I’m asked to name my top 5 Filipino songwriters, I’ll put Jim on the list, along with Ely Buendia, Rico Blanco, and Vehnee Saturno. I have yet to decide on the fifth one. One common thing about these guys—they had as many compositions recorded at the height of their songwriting prowess.
Jim and Boboy have new songs, by the way. I listened to the latest, “My Angel My Love,” not expecting much. I like that it tried to stay in touch with how they did their masterpieces from yesteryears. Anyway, they don’t need to prove themselves by deliberately being in the now.
They’ve always been here with us, relevant (oh, this abused, misused word again) since we met them.
