Comin’ Round in Circles: A look at OPM

JC Pagtakhan

The glittering and normally festive Libis saw more people than the usual on June 19, with thousands of people flocking down to its party central Eastwood City. The hype? It was the annual Fete de Ia Musique, a free event that targeted music lovers of all kinds, featuring more than a hundred Pinoy acts broken down into their specific genres. It was alive, to say the least; it was one of the many celebrations of Filipino music since its long hiatus to prove proudly that OPM is not dead.

It was a surprise how and why OPM suddenly slipped on a steep declining ground using its roller skates around mid and late 90s. For one, the industry then didn’t seem to show any signs of faltering. “Healthy just like it is now. Bands like The Dawn were big; you could go out to Club Dredd to catch Color it Red and Tame the Tikbalang,” describes Mylene Academia, bassist of Sandwich and former NU1O7 DJ, “groups like The Eraserheads and Yano were starting out. It was just as exciting as now.”

Yes, bands were pretty prominent during those days, and although there were groups like APO Hiking Society and great people like Martin Nievera and Gary V. on their prime, Philippine radio was dominated by a huge majority of rock formations, with the songs of the seemingly eternal Eraserheads then on a perpetual repeat. Suddenly, every kid with a guitar wanted a band, and compulsively, record labels that wanted money let those bands sign up. Although the blame must not be placed on the E-heads, of course, after all, they were only unwitting geniuses who started a hype. “The E-heads definitely resuscitated OPM, although the Introvoys and After Image paved the way for record labels to consider signing up bands again,” says Cris Ramos, a music reviewer for the Manila Times. “Before the E-heads, OPM songs were virtually non-existent in radio countdowns and sales.”

When the bough broke

In 1995, everyone was more or less wishing to become the Spice Girls.
It was around the mid 90s when the Filipinos experienced American pop as it took the Philippines by storm. While bands and solo acts were not immediately put behind, the decline was still apparent while emerging westerners were all around; most of all there was the hype with record labels hugging artists who can draw huge crowds and can do harmonics—voila! Instant boy and girl band mutations!

It was then that OPM started to suffer the blow, with lesser artist sign-ups amid the bad economic status. But what possibly made the situation worse was the growing mentality of colonialism, according to Imago’s vocalist, Aia de Leon. Americans became the overstated idols and unwittingly became the trendsetters for the common Juan—from language to clothing to music. With the desire to join the hype, there was a demand for “local mimics” that people would gamely sing and dance to, but would dismiss originals, especially if written in our native language. Less and less opportunities were given to Filipino musicians, upstarts and great ones alike. Media even stopped becoming enthusiastic with the coverage on our own artists.

But should the decline of the music industry be largely based on the misguided mentality of the common listeners? As much as a lot of musicians back at that time would have to deny, the quality of music – churned out back then was also on a downhill slope. What happened to the industry was pretty much the same with the trend today, only worse— musicians relied on the hype that would be produced by their survivors.
In fact, it was this very same hype with the E-heads and the others—as much as they have indeed become the saviors of rock back then. They have also opened an uncontrollable excitement between the music companies, causing them to compulsively focus on rock bands and sign up even poseurs or mediocre acts that hoped to join the bandwagon. “Inassume kasi nila kahit basura biblihin ng masa, kaya tuloy mas tinangkilik ang foreign music,” says Ramos, “you have record labels not paying attention to quality, kaya all you’ll get are pretty lousy synth backgrounds and lyrics that pretty much sounded like grade school attempts at writing hallmark rhymes that all sounded the same.”

Music pirates of the Caribbean

Probably the most major blow that damaged the original Pinoy music would have to be the massive production of wares that did not bear recording company’s and the band’s permission—available virtually anywhere from Quiapo to Greenhills and even to the store near you at more or less 75% off the original price. But Academia was quick to set the things straight: “Piracy didn’t contribute to the ‘decline of OPM.’ Piracy contributed to the decline of music labels as a business. As a result of low sales, they’ve had to downsize and lay off a lot of people…piracy doesn’t stop artists from making music.”

True as it may seem, but whether they like it or not, these artists still need these companies to produce the quality music that they need to market; with the fall of the companies comes the fall of the artists, too.

But not a lot of artists see it that way. According to an article from Philmusic.com, Marc Abaya of Sandwich goes “as far as saying that if piracy is responsible for his band’s popularity, then he ain’t one for knocking it.” True enough—piracy contributed enough to make some artists famous what with a now-easier-to-buy CDs, with a massive distribution to some obscure places in the Philippines that sadly, not a lot of record companies were able to touch. A lot of musicians in the industry lament over this fact, but with no law still being passed to stifle all these big-time pirates, it will continue to take its toll, just as fast as it is continuing in its rolling today.

The resurrection

At least, Pinoys learned their lesson. Musicians started to finally produce quality music that are now competent enough to catch up into the same hype level as foreign music. With great artists like Side A or Freestyle staying on the charts even through the OPM hiatus, it proved to everybody that it takes not just music to be able to please people and win their confidence back—it is their originality and quality that would sell them to the record companies.

But Filipinos cannot totally get rid of the urge to still jump on the bandwagon—everybody wanted to do a Paolo Santos when the acoustic hype went out, although there are a very magnificent few who manage to stay on top. They wouldn’t be able to stop hype from breeding a confused audience: too much of everything is just a diarrhea, and soon, we’ll just see history repeating itself.

But at this point, let us hope not. With 70% of the local artists dominating the current charts, the best would be to hope that this goes on. After all, who deserves the music support and hype from the Filipinos other than Filipinos themselves? Academia couldn’t have said it any better: “The media needs to be able to give space to local artists, just to give them a chance, and give the public a choice. The public needs to make intelligent choices and support local artists for the scene to thrive.”