Manila CNN Philippines Life — It is hard to imagine any Christmas celebration without the songs that have lived forever in the occasion. Especially for a country with a highly musical tradition like the Philippines, the sights are inseparable from the sounds. The flashy decorations of houses and offices, the customary gift-giving and food-sharing, the long lines at cashier counters, and the joyless hours spent in traffic jams always come with the never-ending music playlists in malls and public transportation, the young carollers with their grating voices and recycled instruments knocking on homes and car windows, and the indoor and outdoor parties whose idea of festivity is overusing bass-heavy amplifiers.
Christmas is in the air as much as it is in the ear. And it is not surprising that the very indicator of its arrival is when the nearby shopping mall starts playing Mariah Carey or Jose Mari Chan at the official beginning of the season, on the first of September, on repeat. The popular Filipino Christmas carols have always been reliable as reinforcements of tradition.
One learns these songs just by having listened to them as a kid. They are generally reminders of cheer, of the largeness of life, of possibly bright futures, although later on they can become admonitions of age, of the sad passing of time, of the inevitable swoop of mortality. When all is said and done, it is good to have these songs as stable fixtures of life. But thankfully Filipinos have other Christmas songs to turn to in a cruelly social season like this. Some of them are as chirpy as the carols, some of them have become pop classics as lovely downers, and some of them celebrate the occasion with such an effusive oomph and pragmatism that sometimes it feels sinful to associate them with the birth of a savior.
In these compositions the distinctly Filipino personalities are spilled — the sentimental and jolly, the religious and ridiculous, the abrasive and crazy, the naughty and nice — and the manifold Filipino spirit proudly bares its charms and contradictions. They are songs of Christmas as much as they are songs of life.
When one looks for them on YouTube, many of the comments are by overseas Filipino workers from across the world, missing their families and playing these tunes for comfort, this being the easiest way for them to feel home.
Needless to say, all of these songs are singable, each with its characteristic appeal and attitude, each with its ability to cut across a variety of emotions and in its totality reveal lives brought together by the Yuletide season under its cloud of well-intentioned optimism. They have all been staples of radio airplay, at a time when radio was everywhere and indispensable, and for this reason they also carry with them memories of a not-so-distant past.
This collaboration between Ryan Cayabyab and Jose Javier Reyes is proof of how beautiful and supple the Filipino language is, with how the syllables and spaces dance feverishly forward, and how the immediate and sparkling visuals conjured by the words frolic with the sonic pleasures dripping from every line and melody.
It is structured and layered like a big musical number, and as such, it bursts with life and warmth and energy, like moving from one intricate production set to another every stanza.
But why feel sad? Why feel alone all of a sudden? The talent of Jim Paredes, Danny Javier, and Boboy Garovillo rests not on loud, lofty displays of sentiment but on the intense discreteness of gestures, on the cordial companionship one feels upon hearing their compositions.
Jose Mari Chan is that rare Filipino recording artist who is impossible to hate, and his hits over the decades have constantly reflected this ridiculously nice personality, the very picture of pleasantness he has kept well until now that he is in his 70s. This probably makes him the most qualified person to write and sing what would turn out to be the immortal Filipino Christmas anthem of recent times. The title track from their Christmas record is a wonderful splash of sunshine that loops one Taglish verse to delightful effect, with the horns and harmonies surrounding and lilting it.
Perhaps it is not really funny but just sad. The song just hammers that last point out until it fades, and that is more than enough. The gift of Sexbomb Girls is their lack of subtlety. This subversiveness can be easily taken for granted, especially since it is cleverly written and arranged, a love song littered with nuances of wanting to have it, with the hopeless romantic female embodied by Rochelle Pangilinan being vocal about her desires and frustrations.
Catchy, sexy, upbeat, funny, sincere: what more is there to ask? Like Jose Mari Chan and Basil Valdez before him, Ariel Rivera simply opens his mouth to sing and a universe of emotions, so strong and deep in their effect, is conveyed. Rivera does not sugar-coat the throbbing pain: He confronts it. Composed by Francis Dandan with lyrics by Aurelio Estanislao, the version popularized by Gary Valenciano is dramatic perfection, from the modest piano accompaniment and overall arrangement to the heartfelt simplicity of the words and the way Valenciano delivers them softly, almost hushedly, as though reeling from pain.
It brims with raw, genuine feeling, making it not just a song to relate to but a song one lives, a song that lingers so long it becomes a companion.
Updated Dec 21, PM.