Sobrang badtrip ako today. Radio Idol had a Wildcard episode last night. Obviously I didn't even make it.

They initially announced four names during the day, four people to fight over the 10th and final slot for Level3. But only two people actually attended the program. So sayang 'yung slot!

And when the two people were talking, dammit it was oh so freakishly boring. I don't think I was that boring, I was at best too uptight and grumpy (also tongue-tied and overly groggy). I mean, I'm probably somewhere in the bottom among to those who didn't make it (including those who didn't get in just because they didn't have enough friends to vote for them), and even I'm aware I could've done better. Hindi ako nagyayabang, it's not in my nature.

The finale? Both got the "NOT WORTHY" stinger.

If they had called me for a second chance, I would be there like 30 mins early, and I would probably do a lot better than my first appearance since my rhinitis is gone now and of course I would no longer be bouyed by two antihistamine pills.

Damnmit.

Swiped this from someone else's blog.

1. Grab the nearest book
2. Open book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post text of sentence on your blog. Please include book and author along with these instructions.
5. No digging about for the "cool" or "intellectual" book in your closet! (I know you were thinking about it!) Just pick up whatever is closest.


The Enchanted World: Spells and Bindings
by The Editorsof Time-Life Books

"He gave the crone his arm and led her past the courtiers, out of the hall and to the bridal chamber."

OK, so I didn't pass on to Level 3 of Radio Idol, but I got free dinner in the process so it's all good.

Yes, I was boring, I could see it, but being so nervous took over and the coward in me had let it. So I wasn't shaking as bad as the guy who passed, or I din't overdo the confidence bit or was obviously not struggling with words as the other guys, but still the panicking, clammy, serious guy in me led to my downfall. It was at the very least a fun experience, a great learning experience at the most.

No biggie.

And besides, there's probably another one next year, I just hope that the humiliation on Public Radio isn't as bad as this year's. So peeps, you haven't heard the last from me!

*insert diabolical super-Villain laugh here*

RADIO IDOL Level 2: The Challenge


I'm scheduled to go up against three other Radio Idol hopefuls this coming Tuesday (Oct 10), 7-8pm at Monster Radio RX 93.1, or live streaming over at http://www.rx931.com

Please do tune in and vote for me to get to Level3 of the competition.

Type in BATCH and send to 29761931-- the BATCH# and DJ letter will be provided at the start of the program.

Thanks!
LUiS Oliveros

Hanging Out With the Boys!

After work last Saturday, I headed for Glorietta to meet up with the boys- well, just four of 'em. Tua, TL, Omar and Tristan showed up and we pretty much spent about 30 mins goofing off, laughing our lung out and being rowdy little high school boys again, before we decided to actually do something.

Right after a quick dinner, we headed over to Park Square for some sisig and booze (and mango juice for Omar). Got tipsy, watched two girls ride on the mechanical bull, laughed ourselves silly over childish and stupid things.

Hopefully, we can make this a monthly, even weekly, event. Because I desparately need friends right now, especially now that it's been months since my bestfriend passed away and insecurities are creeping up from all direction because of my new job. I will never replace my bestfriend, but I can sure use the company.

It's been so lone since we saw each other...in fact, it's been so long since I've seen any of my friends. And it's also been a while since I had any alcohol in my system, and so I was sufficiently buzzed after round three.

Two weeks ago I decided to head for Ortigas to submit my application for RX 93.1's Radio Idol. It had to be one of the hottest days so far during the BER months this year. So there I was walking along Emerald Avenue with my long-time friend JANICE, with my sweaty shirt on.

Personally, I had an epiphany while ambling around Ortigas. I've been an RX listener since high school (although I also listen to the rock station since RX has a terrible reception at home) since then and throughout college I would make demo tapes and submit them for RADIO1. I never got any calls, suffice to say I'm a six-year RADIO1 reject and I was having doubts about joining RADIO IDOL. Doubts about my own abilities.

So to make a long, dragging story short, I went in, passed my resume (sans ID picture/s), recorded 2 minutes of voice and headed home.

Yesterday morning, I heard on the radio the list of names who were gonna be judged and I was so psyched, because I was in it. The doubts were still there but nevertheless I went on my daily routine and waited till 7pm for the RADIO IDOL program to start.

Lo and behold! I passed...I'm moving on to LEVEL2!

But I have to admit, I'm still a little concerned whether I have a good, fighting chance to win, which is why I'm trying not to border on the idea of winning, yet I'm still struggling to keep what little optimism I have. And if you know me well enough, optimism isn't exactly my strong suit.

Next week will usher in the start of LEVEL2 of the radio reality show, and I am crossing my fingers, praying that I pass on to LEVEL3.

BEGINNING TO LIKE: "How To Save A Life" by THE FRAY

BEGINNING TO LIKE AGAIN: The Morning Rush with Chico and Delamar

BEGINNING TO NOTICE: MATISYAHU

BEGINNING TO HATE: Waking up at around 4:00am just to get to work on time

BEGINNING TO GET SICK OF: the monotonous schedule

BEGINNING TO MISS: Asia Agcaoili's kinky radio program

BEGINNING TO OBSESS: about the return of LOST-- I NEED MY LOST!

I took a break from the monotony of the artwork I keep on revising and did this.

And I just realized that all of the personal projects I was doing would have to be put on hold. The comic book script I was writing/drawing, the books I was planning to read, everything. Even the band caricatures I have stacked in my study table would have to wait. I no longer have as much time as I want...heck i don't even have enough time to sleep!

A VERY SHORT, UNDETAILED REVIEW of “The WICKER MAN”
Thanks to my superhuman ability to listen to CHR radio stations during the wee hours of the morning and indomitable urge to join nearly every on-air contest (that does not require me to sing, rhyme, recite a sponsor’s tagline, etc.), I won for myself a pair of invites to the premiere of the Nicholas Cage movie “The Wicker Man”.

I have been seeing the trailer over the cable channels and the posters along the highway, and it gave me the impression that it has a seriously creepy storyline, made complicated with a series of elaborate lies and knee-deep in some bizarre tradition as they marinate in horrific sound effects and CG mush. This is something Hollywood has been spewing, as opposed to the now overrated Asian horror explosion which utilizes to great effect the silence and a very simplistic storytelling device.

So it was a weekday and I headed over to the radio station to claim the tickets. I sent text messages to nearly everyone in my phonebook, in hopes of finding someone whom I could whimper to whenever a ghastly scene would jump from the screen. Nearly everyone declined, the others didn’t even have the decency to respond. Dammit!

It was 7:55pm, and I was sitting inside Megamall’s Cinema1. And since it was an exclusive premiere, some celebrities showed up including members of the band Join The Club who carried the general look of having utmost glee. Next to me sat two old ladies, lively gossiping about some neighbor. Not exactly an appealing idea of being the shaking, cowardly young man beside a pair of undaunted pair of geriatric ward candidates. Hardly a good comparison to last year’s Harry Potter viewing, where I sat beside a muscle-bound, skin-headed, goateed and tattooed mammoth who cried at the end of the movie because Cedric kicked the bucket. It was cold and I felt queasy.

So after a deep breath I plunged into the horror flick…

After going through a near-death experience in the line of duty, Police officer Edward Malus (Nick Cage) receives a letter from an ex named Willow (Kate Beahan), asking his help to find her daughter, oddly named Rowan (Atkinson???!) in the remote island of Summersisle. A series of unfortunate incidents and odd meetings with the locals (including a wooden Leelee Sobieski) would ensue before Willow informs him that Rowan is his. After much more running around the island and bizarre suspense plot devices, he finally stumbles upon evidence that the entire island thrives on ancient tradition and the daughter he has yet to meet is next in line to be sacrificed for a better harvest season. Mighty enticing really, but IT SUCKED! What a friggin’ disappointment!

The trailers and poster were so misleading. It led me to believe that I would be hiding behind my mailbag by the first half, instead I felt cheated. We all got so used to guessing the plot as we watched suspense flicks, but for this film, chances are that most of your guesses were far more creative and ingenious than the actual story.

It was unbelievably mundane and dragging. You would be sitting in the theatre waiting for the movie to take off, sorry to say: it never does. However, it is highly obvious that it attempts to shock, scare and intrigue you; unfortunately, attempts, no matter how hard, do not make for a good movie.

Some scenes were indeed funny, however they tragically look candid. And how idiotic does “Step away from the bike!” sound when being mouthed by a snarling Nick Cage as he points a gun at an unarmed woman aboard a bicycle?

Although honestly, save for the deviously deceptive advertising, completely moronic script and the very old school storytelling, the film would’ve passed in my book-- if it were a short film.

In its entirety, the movie was one deceiving son of a bitch. It was a total waste of a good cast, passable production and a good direction.

Avoid like leprosy. You have been warned.

DEAD THOUGHTS: Depleting Artistry?


FURTADO RETURNS

Ever since Nelly Furtado came out with her debut disc Whoa Nelly!, I have embraced her music. OK, the lyrical approach to “I’m Like a Bird” was a wee bit bothersome, but the next few songs definitely grew on me. Her tribal/mid-Eastern brand of pop was a freshly eclectic sound amid the plethora of painful mush made up of pretentious pop-alt acts and one-hit wonders at that time (Read: Sisqo).

Though her sophomore effort titled Folklore caused no stir whatsoever, it still had the diverse sound she had established for herself. The album was entirely influenced by her becoming a mother and was inching towards a more rock-acoustic angle.

And now she's back, only this time she’s gotten a lot more urban. After all, she does have Grammy-awarded producer Timbaland backing her up. As of writing, her first single “Promiscuous” is hot item, flaring up in just about every pop station and music channel in the country.

She used to explore her vocal capacity by doing staccato pseudo-raps and some experimental form of chanting rhythms which have become part of her trademark, but now she does the Fergie/Ashanti kind of flirty, falsetto thing. I understand perfectly well that as an artist, she is probably rearing to get out of her comfort zone and that having a “trademark style” denies her artistry. If one transmutes into something that is generally a cliché nowadays, it could be of trying to reach out with a more accessible music. Although she seemed to have lost her vocal character and the eclecticism that goes with it, making her easily unrecognizable from the crop of hip-hop singers populating the scene.

And the music video for “Promiscuous” mildly annoys me. It looks like a less imaginative but otherwise superbly directed version of Christina Aguilera’s “Dirrty” vid. Present is the identically wild crowd of ravers packed in a claustrophobia-inducing grimy warehouse type of environment; where Ms. Mouseketeer attempts to have a storyline about underground female boxing, Furtado settles with the performance scenes of her singing as she explores her surroundings and a dance routine that could make Napoleon Dynamite blush.

A few minutes ago, I heard her first single, “Man Eater” as I was trying to organize my tiny CD collection. I listened to it and smiled a little. It had traces of the Nelly Furtado I appreciated before. It had some tribal drums, a lethargic and intoxicating rhythm to it that borrows some elements from the 80s music scene with a sort of theatrical dynamic. Sounds promising.





WHAT’s THE DEAL WITH IMAGO?

As a long-time fan of Pinoy rock, I saw the emergence of Imago as a creative force and a Pinoy rock icon. I was in high school when “Alay” was first played over at NU107’s In The Raw.

When Probably Not But Most Definitely was released, they were being misjudged by some clueless critic as the country’s answer to The Corrs just because they had a violinist. The band proved him wrong with their horrendously diverse sound and overly experimental instrumentation that I immediately loved. Who wouldn’t? Tracks like “Alay” and “Pretty Me” and “Rainsong” were so different from one another you wouldn’t know what to expect for their next single. The album was one exciting, but unexpected, raid into rock’s soundscape where everyone joined in for the music.

And then Take 2 happened. It was here when they began exploring more conventional sounds. The violinist, Michelle, left the band. And so did Arvin the bassist, and Myrene hopped on board. If not for Aia’s familiar vocal work, you wouldn’t know it was an Imago album…save for six songs which still had their signature vibe. They got rid of the more tribal/world music inspiration and ventured forth into the world of the mainstream. Sure, “Taning,” “Bihag” and “Akap” were decidedly Imago products, but some of the other tracks sounded like they were written by some other musician. “Gratitude” for instance sounded like a SunValleyCrew composition (Rye, by the way, guests in this song). And Aia raps? Not exactly a welcome change for me. And also the catchy, bubblegum pop undertones in “Anino” suggests that it Aia probably wrote this during her stint with Fatal Posporos.

And now they released BLUSH. The title sound like a teenybopper fashion magazine, the cover art looks the part. Believe me, I am proud that they’ve grown from being underground/indie esoteric heroes to a mainstream crossover bankable act. And for their sheer talent, they’re finally getting the recognition they rightfully deserve. Though I’m not entirely sure where they are headed. First single was titled “Tara Lets.” When I first heard it from a crappy radio station FX cabs and busses prefer, I assumed it was perhaps some new act. I could not identify the voice. Though I admit that the artistic musicality is still there, and that they kept the fun attitude that became apparent during the Take 2 days, the song still sounds like something you’d hear being played as background music to some cheesy youth-oriented flick. With the chorus that repeatedly goes “Tara Let’s / Tara, tara let’s / ‘Di ka na mabibigo / whoa” playing at the back of your skull, and you know that there’s some sort of a sign of depreciation. And it makes the Imgo-fan in you ask: Is this an attempt at selling out? Like I said, I haven’ the foggiest idea, though I’m still hopeful.