GIFTS
It was Vin Dancel who suggested I invite Bullet Dumas to a short program I was putting together for UP Tacloban cross-enrolles in UP Diliman’s legendary Kalayaan dorm last December. I had never heard of Bullet, but the other performers I had lined up that night (Vin and Raimund Marasigan), as well as some colleagues (Krina Cayabyab and my sister Lennette Mirano) apparently had, and all raved about him. From the moment he took the stage, his guttural voice, aggressive guitar stumming, and propulsive but occasionally arrhythmic music blew me away. In a fertile plain of indie musicians trying to push the boundaries of contemporary song, he stood out like a stallion. I was transfixed, not knowing whether to explode in applause, or stay quiet as if to savour the spell he had put me under. The day after, I texted Bullet asking if he had a CD I could buy. I was shocked when he told me he didn’t have one. All he had were crude soundcloud demos and youtube live performances. I couldn’t fathom how the darling of the 2011 Elements National Songwriting Camp and a number of popular mainstream musicians still didn’t have a serious recording. I surmised this is the reason why had not gotten any airplay and/or had received only scant big media attention. So I spent the rest of the Christmas break thinking of a way to fix this problem.
I initially thought of the DIY approach. This meant bringing my portable recording gear, getting a quiet classroom or office space somewhere in UP Diliman during the Christmas vacation, and recording for a couple of days, much like I had done with the Eraserheads over two decades ago. But 1) I didn’t think I had the energy to deal with all the technological issues of remote recording anymore, and 2) the buildings and offices are completely closed during the break. Then I considered just going in to a studio. Although I’ve never bankrolled a recording, I’ve always had this romantic idea that if I ever won the lotto, I’d spend part of my winnings on recording every single artist that captured my fancy. Unfortunately, I’ve never won a lotto jackpot, and my professors’ salary isn’t big on disposable income. But it was Christmas, and that meant a Christmas bonus. If I skimped, saved, and avoided unnecessary, extravagant expenses, I could afford to buy enough studio time to record Bullet singing and playing guitar with minimal overdubs. When my wife Helen heard my account of that magical night in Kalayaan about Bullet, she said she would half the cost with me. And when I told my sister Lennette about it, she pitched it too. So I called up Shinji Tanaka at Sound Creation and told him of my plan. Shinji told me a few months earlier that business had slowed down, he had become a bit burned out, and preferred accepting projects for the sake of “art”. It seemed perfect for what I had in mind. So the budget and the studio was set.
I finally texted Bullet just after the new year, asking if we was interested in a late Christmas “gift”. My wife, sister, and I would pay for five hours of recording time and three hours of mixing, and I would produce it. This would be enough to make an three song EP. All I asked in return was that he publicly acknowledged the gift, that I could keep duplicates of the session and mixed files for archival/preservation purposes, and that I be allowed to give a few copies to my closest of friends and family. The recordings would belong to him, and he could do anything he wanted to with them. I feel he reacted in much the same way I did when I first saw him perform. He was excited but slightly stunned, trying to figure out how to express his gratitude. I met with him and his managers in late January, and firmed up the schedule. The recording day finally came on 24 February. I brought along my daughter Nicole, a popular music blogger who while she had experienced me at work in recording session with the UP Cherubim and Seraphim of which she is a member, had never seen me work with other acts. Bullet was already there with his manager Isi, who had brought a delicious lasagne she concocted. We were still setting up when Buddy Zabala popped in, with a deadly package of cookies and cake made by his wife Earnest. I found out from Raimund that Buddy had been helping Bullet edit his songs for some time. This is why the recorded versions were tighter and more organized than the demos he sent me. A few minutes later, Raimund showed up, having biked all the way from Marikina. I always treasure his presence because it adds infectious energy to the proceedings. And Shinji’s quiet confidence and sensitivity kept us firmly grounded in the complex technological environment. We all had a wonderful time listening to the music, and puttered around making the recording better. I told Bullet that the rough mixes were good enough for airplay, and that he should pass this on to radio stations that had been hounding him for months. I let the rough mixes percolate in my head for a month, and made plans for the mixing session. The final mixing session on March 25 was a quieter affair, with just Bullet, Isi, Shinji and I in the studio. This was good because mixing takes intense concentration. I posted an update on Facebook wherein I declared a personal one-day moratorium on worrying about the state of the Philippine music industry, and academic governance in U.P., because I wanted to thoroughly enjoy this session. Everything went according to plan. In the end we all felt a sense of joy over the results, and an eagerness to release the recording.
I make all sorts of suggestions as to what artists may do going forward. But my end-game coincides with the completion of the recordings. I can only hope that the recordings help strengthen the foundations of the individual artists’ career, and make a significant contribution to the music scene in general. It’s not up to me to declare whether Bullet will become the “next big thing” or not. But I pray that the “gift” my family and I gave him this year snowballs into a something which 1) will inspire other artists to push their own creativity past the limits imposed by repressive canons while managing to create works which resonate with people, and 2) will inspire audiences to seek out and look beyond that which is merely spoon-fed to them by established institutions.
To me, every recording project benefits from selfless gifts. Knowledge, creativity, expertise, energy, food, and money must all come together to make a great recording. But the gift that mattered most, and which made us all come together, was Bullet’s music. We hope you all get a chance to partake in, and cherish his gift.
