I asked a close friend why, apart from being kind and a true pal, she feels the need to help promote my song “Stranded Man,” a digital single dropped by NSFU Records last May 24, which I wrote and sang.
Her reply struck me and I was flattered, to say the least. She said she believes in the song because it has depth as a composition, and that she admires that side of my character that doesn’t rest on my laurels.
For that thing about my drive, I see some wonder in turning a song I composed into a record. It’s a process I won’t get tired of going through. It’s the main point of creativity.
Create something out of thin air, and then share it for people to access if and when they want to. The fact that it’s officially out there gives me that sense of fulfillment that I have done something. I can’t force anyone to listen to it, but if I can touch one soul with a song I wrote, that doubles the joy.
A year after the pandemic locked us all inside homes, somebody named Daniel Bernardo sent me out of the blue a picture of his copy of the Syato album Sticking By. He said “Super nice ng Syato album niyo. Great vocals and amazing music. I enjoy listening to this CD of yours while there is a pandemic.”
I wrote all the songs on that album, so you can imagine how happy I was receiving such a message from a – may I describe him “beautiful” – stranger.
Since I am talking about my songwriting, I’d rather not define what’s my idea of a well-written song. But let’s share how I would pen a particular track. In the case of “Stranded Man,” I was at home idly playing some chords on a new keyboard I bought when suddenly I hit a pattern that sounded good to me. The fact that my wife Kaye commented well after hearing that same set of chords convinced me that I’ve got a song at hand.
For months I only had those chords and a phrase to start working on: “Maipit man ako sa traffic.” Why traffic? I am a product of Metro Manila so getting stuck in traffic is an experience I am so familiar with.
After I landed here in America, I still didn’t have the proper words for it except for the chorus. I even asked a poet-friend if he could supply spoken words for the verses. I was impatient and sometimes that’s a good thing.
I wrote the verses myself once I felt some inspiration recalling a moment while I was in EDSA seeing an attractive woman cross the pedestrian lane during a traffic stop. That led to the opening line of the first verse: “Masdan ang Pilipinang hanep kung rumampa.” And by the way, in the chorus, you hear me say “stranded man ay di maiinip.” That’s where I got the title. Man actually means “even,” although, in the context of the song, it may appear to be a man who’s stuck in traffic.
After I completed the song, I had it demoed with me raw-singing while playing the keyboard. I thought of it as a song I can sing at the tail end of a noisy party when everybody already had drinks, settling down, and there’s a piano for me to play on.
The demo reached the ears of Manila-based musicians Andrew Mendoza and Chi Capulong. Andrew who goes by the name Neon when performing already did his live and raw version of “Hosanna Kapiling Ka” which was my first song release as simply Yugel, not a member of a band nor the columnist-book author with a surname.
The two of them produced the song and “Stranded Man” became an R&B track with an aggressive guitar instrumental after the bridge part, played by Neon himself. I felt like rapping in the verses because I was catching up on the faster-than-what-I-originally-thought tempo, which I found interesting.
I’ve always been open to possibilities when it comes to music. My former bandmate Mike Santos, who’s long been living in New Zealand and was the player on the first Syato CD comprising the singles “Scorpio” and “Kailanman,” said something so kind when asked about his take on “Stranded Man.”
“I’m really beyond thrilled to see that you’re thriving in this ever-changing music landscape,” he noted, directly speaking to me, “Yung ability mo to adapt sa evolving times is impressive, the way you embrace technology to bring new perspective sa music mo is testament to your innovative spirit and dedication to your craft.”
The good ol’ drummer boy added, “Yung unique sound mo and (style) continue to inspire. I can’t wait to see what the future holds for you. Keep pushing boundaries and making incredible music. Cheers to this exciting new chapter sa buhay mo.”
I guarantee that I didn’t pay him a dollar to say that. Those are words from a man who during one of our first gigs long ago looked straight at me in serious stare and – seeing that I was being tentative on my bass playing – gestured that I should just play relaxed. We were locked in as the band’s rhythm section since that moment.
It makes me smile that Mike appreciates that I try to push boundaries, which I think I am not conscious of. I just move on and go to the next song. I am currently collaborating with a Los Angeles native and chances are my next release is something I wrote and produced by him.
I am also looking at the possibility of collaborating with Medwin Marfil (of True Faith) who recently made headlines after getting married to his true love, right in the capital of summer of love, San Francisco. I sent him a demo of a song that Syato should have recorded called “Isipin Mo,” and he commented, “Ganda ng song. I would love to sing it.”
The thing about making music and having the passion for it, you just keep on going. You’re never stranded.
