The soundtrack of your youth is typically the era of music you feel best associated to.
Thus, the music that came out first half of the 1990s was extra special since it was my high school years in St. James College of Quezon City.
The noise began with Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit” bursting into the scene and ushering in the grunge movement. But personally, it was R.E.M’s “Losing My Religion” that first made me feel I was no longer a kid and music started to deeply matter. That campus radio (97.1 WLS FM) and its daily countdown ensured what was popular and hip got covered.
Sometime after Extreme’s “More Than Words” lorded over the airwaves, Bon Jovi’s “Bed of Roses” ruled the charts for God knows how long. Call it strange but I do treasure forgotten old hits like Acosta Russell’s “Deep In My Soul” and Cinema’s “Strangers Again.” These are exclusively owned by our time; heard on mainstream radio just within that span.
Most significantly, our stretch saw the royal rule of perhaps the greatest Pinoy band scene explosion. I was in third year high when I heard a schoolmate hum something called “Pare Ko.” Prior to that, we were at this flag ceremony when somebody mistakenly played Introvoys’ “Will I Survive” instead of “Lupang Hinirang.” The collective oohs was classic and organic. It was then the cutest song to dedicate to a crush.
Color It Red’s Cooky Chua was likewise the hottest songstress on the strength of “Paglisan” while Teeth’s “Laklak” became instant singalong even if we were too young to drink serbesa.
Not surprisingly, almost nobody thought Alamid’s “Your Love” was really about God, as I found out myself years later from its composer Dex Facelo whom I got along with while traversing the music scene as journalist. For us beaming that glow of youth, it was pure romantic love song, period.
Of course, in those days, most of us boys wanted to be guitarists and it was common to hear somebody play the opening riff to Afterimage’s “Tag-Ulan” or GN’R’s “Sweet Child O’ Mine.”
At a school program before graduation, a cool pool from the batch performed plugged-in White Lion’s “You’re All I Need.” Watching from afar I vowed to play in a band myself. In college, I did do and I am in a musical group to this day.
Those ‘90s hits are dependable allies when being nostalgic about that period in my life.
Last June 1, our batch and others who spent their yesteryears in St. James gathered to bid farewell to our alma mater for the last time. I’d rather not discuss why it closed shops, or in essence, why we are to lose that big memory capsule of our youth. That has nothing to do with the beautiful music to remember.
