Fifteen Minutes
Sweat drops falling like crazy. The heartbeat pounded in systematic rhythms. Bare hands trembling in nervousness, as the venue as slowly packed with eager and anxious people. It looks like it was going to be a very long night.
The car park was overwhelmingly crowded. Booze and the smell of cigarettes fill the chilly night air. And people are still turning up at the entrance. Their line was long and is becoming a little bit unfriendly. Thankfully nobody has the balls to pick up a fight; it was way too early for that. With all the policemen around, one has to reconsider that notion though.
The first band was already on stage. Their music resonated across the vast open spaces. I was standing at the back portion of the venue, with my electric guitar held closely beside me. Flip, our bassist had a couple of drinks already and I was getting a bit worried. But I have far more concerns at the moment. I went to Ray of Candyflip as he walked down the stage; they were one of the first to play. I finally got the two electric cords I needed and my mind was at ease.
The worst part about these things is the waiting part. For underground bands such as us, it has been a common thing. And for most of us, it was the most mind draining experience. I did my best in calming myself down and hyping myself to the music. And as our band named was announced by the half-drunk emcee, I weaved past the surging crowd of people gathered already in front of the stage.
The stage was illuminated in all sorts of lights. And being one of the first onstage, I was subject to its fury. Faces of friends and familiar people fixed their eyes on you as the whole band was finally onstage for their first front act. The sound check went smoothly; the band’s equipment has been set prior to the event. With a hand gesture to our vocalist, the band began with our first song.
For most of us, fifteen minutes is not an enough time. It is time too little and limited. Yet for the underground bands of the local Iloilo scene, it was for more enough. Things have been that way I guess. The gig evenly divided among the ten bands out to front act for the famous Manila based band Cheese. Fifteen minutes allotted to my band SwitchJarz to play two cover songs and three original compositions. Our fifteen minute shot at fame.
The crowd in rhythmic angst and desolation. Our music flowed with pure emotion as the moshpit escalated into a full scale riot. Passion in its rawest form, music at its highest peak. My body let go of all inhibitions as I weaved across the stage in maniacal rage. The shrieks of guitar distortion ripped through my soul. I closed my eyes and let the music guide me to the perfection of my craft. It is our music, it is our passion and it is our will. With this ideal, I let go of the fifteen minute limit given to us. Ten minutes or even five minutes, we won’t give a hell. It is all about the music. And they can all throw their clocks for that matter.
Sweating and satisfied, I packed my guitar back to its case. The tread down the stairs was a brief one. The crowd below showered us with applause and appreciation. I guess our time was up. The band slowly went back to our normal state of being. A welcoming sight of booze and food awaited our time-strict return. I took my role as an audience to the other bands and enjoyed the rest of the night as well.
My shot at fifteen minutes of fame was over. And as I prepared myself to leave the Marina car park, my heart still pounds with adrenalin to a performance well done and a gig well earned. For us, each gig has been a unique experience. And with every fifteen minutes, we will definitely give it our all.
The car park was overwhelmingly crowded. Booze and the smell of cigarettes fill the chilly night air. And people are still turning up at the entrance. Their line was long and is becoming a little bit unfriendly. Thankfully nobody has the balls to pick up a fight; it was way too early for that. With all the policemen around, one has to reconsider that notion though.
The first band was already on stage. Their music resonated across the vast open spaces. I was standing at the back portion of the venue, with my electric guitar held closely beside me. Flip, our bassist had a couple of drinks already and I was getting a bit worried. But I have far more concerns at the moment. I went to Ray of Candyflip as he walked down the stage; they were one of the first to play. I finally got the two electric cords I needed and my mind was at ease.
The worst part about these things is the waiting part. For underground bands such as us, it has been a common thing. And for most of us, it was the most mind draining experience. I did my best in calming myself down and hyping myself to the music. And as our band named was announced by the half-drunk emcee, I weaved past the surging crowd of people gathered already in front of the stage.
The stage was illuminated in all sorts of lights. And being one of the first onstage, I was subject to its fury. Faces of friends and familiar people fixed their eyes on you as the whole band was finally onstage for their first front act. The sound check went smoothly; the band’s equipment has been set prior to the event. With a hand gesture to our vocalist, the band began with our first song.
For most of us, fifteen minutes is not an enough time. It is time too little and limited. Yet for the underground bands of the local Iloilo scene, it was for more enough. Things have been that way I guess. The gig evenly divided among the ten bands out to front act for the famous Manila based band Cheese. Fifteen minutes allotted to my band SwitchJarz to play two cover songs and three original compositions. Our fifteen minute shot at fame.
The crowd in rhythmic angst and desolation. Our music flowed with pure emotion as the moshpit escalated into a full scale riot. Passion in its rawest form, music at its highest peak. My body let go of all inhibitions as I weaved across the stage in maniacal rage. The shrieks of guitar distortion ripped through my soul. I closed my eyes and let the music guide me to the perfection of my craft. It is our music, it is our passion and it is our will. With this ideal, I let go of the fifteen minute limit given to us. Ten minutes or even five minutes, we won’t give a hell. It is all about the music. And they can all throw their clocks for that matter.
Sweating and satisfied, I packed my guitar back to its case. The tread down the stairs was a brief one. The crowd below showered us with applause and appreciation. I guess our time was up. The band slowly went back to our normal state of being. A welcoming sight of booze and food awaited our time-strict return. I took my role as an audience to the other bands and enjoyed the rest of the night as well.
My shot at fifteen minutes of fame was over. And as I prepared myself to leave the Marina car park, my heart still pounds with adrenalin to a performance well done and a gig well earned. For us, each gig has been a unique experience. And with every fifteen minutes, we will definitely give it our all.
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