I’m Back…And I’m Better Than Ever!
Ten months and fourteen days.
That is the exact amount of time I spent as an “ordinary fan,” “would-be music business person,” or “would-be musical entrepreneur.” I have no regrets taking a step away from being an active musician. I got to clear my head, focus on other non-work stuff, and transition to life going back to normal as the Connor McDavid the 19th panorama hopefully reaches its homestretch. During my 10-month-plus semi-retirement, I turned another year older, and I wasn’t exactly like Matthew McConaughey’s Wooderson from Dazed and Confused. In his (creepy in hindsight) words, “That’s what I like about them high school girls, man. I get older, they stay the same age.” Replace “I like” with “disappoints me,” replace “high school girls” with “rock fans,” and replace Wooderson’s creepiness with my jadedness and you’ve got a pretty good idea of my headspace in the months leading up to my semi-retirement.
But 10 months, 14 days, and one self-interview later, I am, in the words of Eric Bischoff’s WWE entrance music, back and better than ever. And to quote Wooderson one last time, alright, alright, alright!
When looking back on the real reasons why Lorenzo Tanos rejoined The Mox, there are three answers to that question. One, I got to session twice during my semi-retirement. Once in June because my replacement, Justine Casilang, was injured. The second time was in August, where I played one song as a “birthday gift” from my then-former bandmates. Especially during the June gig, where we played alongside a few bands who had middle-aged members but did not sound the least bit dated, I felt reenergized and realized how much I missed playing. The second gig had a younger audience and a younger lineup of bands, but at that point there was something that I didn’t realize had already changed in me. I had gone from being all Danny Glover/Roger Murtaugh “I’m too old for this shit” to “Who cares if y’all think I’m too old for this shit?” And I loved it.
The second reason for my return? Well, let’s just say that I’ve had a lot of people tell me that I really am NOT too old for this shit. My American friend (and former co-worker) Jon H. from Arizona wished me a happy birthday, and while catching up, I told him that The Mox is doing great and I’m perfectly happy being their Pete Best or William Goldsmith minus the drama and acrimony. Jon’s response? “You’re the Filipino Pat Smear.” Of course, we know that Pat Smear is a guitarist. But we also know that he’s a 60-something man who still plays for the Foo Fighters despite being at least a decade older than most of his bandmates. Then you had that Mox interview where they said, in our native tongue, that there’s no age limit when it comes to being in a band. Somehow, I saw that as a call to action. The seeds had been planted during my cameo appearances, now it was time for them to bear some fruit.
The third reason? To be perfectly honest, I have unfinished business with The Mox, and I’m excited to be a part of the changes Migz, Raph, James, and Justine had started enacting while I was away.
One thing I can promise you now that I’m back with The Mox is this — we’re going to be redefining “garage rock” and eschewing its traditional (albeit still valid) definition. Forget three-minute, three-or-four-chord tunes recorded on vintage equipment, forget influences like the Standells or the 13th Floor Elevators. Both those bands are great, and so are the OG garage bands’ influences like the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, and the Kinks. But that doesn’t change the fact that I wasn’t there. Migz wasn’t there, Raph wasn’t there, and James wasn’t there. (And neither were Mox alumni Alex, Bryan, and Justine.) My dad was in the fifth grade when the Beatles made their American debut on The Ed Sullivan Show. Likewise, my mom was in the sixth grade when she had a schoolgirl crush on Davy Jones of the Monkees. I love ’60s and ’70s rock because my parents exposed me to it when I was little, but once again, friends, Romans (yes, you too, Mr. Reigns, my tribal chief), and Moxies, I WAS NOT THERE.
But you know who I was there for? Guns N’ Roses was huge when I was in the sixth grade, and remained huge even in the grunge and alternative era. As a high school freshman, I wanted to be like Vince Neil or Tommy Lee of Motley Crue. (Turns out they weren’t really the best role models for a preteen rock star wannabe like myself, but I digress.) When I transferred schools and watched in envy as my batch’s musicians were only second to the jocks in the male popularity food chain, Nirvana, Pearl Jam, and the rest of the Seattle grunge crew informed my (honestly pathetic and still edgelord-y) attempts at songwriting; likewise, I looked up to the Daves, Grohl and Abbruzzese, Matt Cameron (Soundgarden, later Pearl Jam), and Sean Kinney (Alice in Chains) as much as I looked up to Ringo Starr…and the aforementioned Mr. Lee. College days, meanwhile, were all about bands like Green Day, the Offspring, Collective Soul, and let’s face it, post-grungers like Bush, Silverchair, and Candlebox. And we shouldn’t overlook my love of thrash metal and lo-fi indie that also started in what I still consider the greatest decade of all for rock music — the nineties. That was my coming-of-age decade as a person and as a musician, much like the kids of the baby boom came of age with the British Invasion and psychedelic rock as the soundtrack of their then-young lives.
Though I am definitely familiar with their influences, I can’t really speak for Migz, James, and Raph, as they had their own experiences as fledgling and/or wannabe musicians and nobody can share those experiences like they can. That’s my contribution to the “redefining garage rock” narrative we want to push as The Mox — we’re influenced by the bands we literally grew up with by virtue of our being there during their heyday, and we’re offering a rawer, less polished take on it. But how do you make something influenced by older bands (but not too old) sound less dated?
Why, you can do that by combining those influences and consciously not trying to sound like anyone. Only time will tell how that plays out, but again speaking as one-fourth of the band I have just rejoined, I don’t want The Mox to be my avenue for genre tributes. Let’s take this song I wrote way back in 2015, “Kayfabe Princess.” (If you should know, it’s about a girl I met on a dating app who ghosted me after she confirmed that I am STILL a passionate fan of pro wrestling.) I wrote it for my band at the time, the Myopics, but since it ended up sounding far more grunge than garage when I tweaked the lyrics and recorded a home demo on GarageBand a couple years later, I decided to shelve it. But now that I’m considering adding it to The Mox’s lineup of songs, I don’t want to present it as a straight-up grunge tune. I don’t want people going, “hey, love that ’90s Seattle sound” when they hear “Kayfabe Princess.” I want them to hear touches of “Negasonic Teenage Warhead” (the Monster Magnet song, not the Marvel character named after it) through the use of flangers. I want to hear elements of bands like our very own Urbandub, or even Dance Gavin Dance. Hell, maybe I want to have somebody come in and rap the refrain a la Kendrick Lamar, as opposed to a la Ice Cube or MCA (RIP Adam Yauch).
Obviously, everything’s still fluid and I have yet to rearrange the song. Perhaps the more modern potential influences I mentioned are a bridge too far. But the age of lazy, cookie-cutter, “stick to your lane” arrangements is over and done. (I hope.) And I have Migz to serve as an “ending doctor,” because y’all know I suck at writing outros.
Last, but not least, things are going to be very different in my second go-around with The Mox because get this — I have finally decided to conquer my crippling social anxiety by appearing in more interviews. I dunno if I’ve mentioned it in this here space, but I’ve spent the last 25 years of my life preparing for this. Well, sort of. Back when I was in college, I’d often imagine whatever band I was in being interviewed on NU 107, and in all those fantasies, I’d be the one answering the lion’s share of the questions and building rapport with the DJs. “Here’s the thing, Francis [Brew], we don’t believe that rock music is dying. ‘Yung mga boy bands na ‘yan? One day they’ll be old and ugly and laos na (washed up). Sa rock, you can be as old and ugly as Mick Jagger and still kick ass onstage. Wait lang…can I say ‘ass’ on air?”/”Make sure to catch us at Club Dredd on September 17, 1997, kasama po namin ang Razorback at [friends’ band] Purple Onion.” Yeah, fantasy shit like that.
Of course, my bands at that time were nowhere near Club Dredd-ready. That was mainly a tool to help me cope with my fear of public speaking and my penchant for choking under pressure. I also frequently imagined myself sinking game-winning three-pointers in liga basketball despite being absolutely useless on offense, so yeah. Libre lang mangarap (it’s free to dream). The reality is that ever since I broke down crying onstage when asked to give an impromptu speech after winning some academic award in the third grade, I’ve been petrified by any kind of public speaking opportunity. But believe it or not, I did once survive a radio interview without going into a panic attack or demanding an instant dose of liquid courage before I go on air. It was way back in 2006, when I was part of the “Sexay Wave” (Manila Sound + ’60s rock + new wave) band the Chenelins. Yes, I poked fun at the fact I wrote only one song for the band (“my name is Enzo, and I write song”) and ended up cracking an in-joke that no one outside of the band got. But otherwise, I survived the interview, and zero tears were shed while we were drinking to celebrate getting our songs played on the radio.
Yes, I’m back and better than ever, just like Uncle Eric Bischoff as WWE Raw’s evil authority figure in the Ruthless Aggression Era. Will The Mox be better than ever? Hell fucking yeah. Will Mad Tito Music become an afterthought in the process? Not in your wildest dreams — it’s on the back burner, as is my solo music, but with a light gigging/rehearsal schedule in the meantime, you can expect to hear more about Mad Tito and my vanity studio-only projects once I get that damn basketball stats website online.
And to quote one last person (UGH), the Honorable Senator (DOUBLE UGH) Robinhood (TRIPLE UGH) Padilla…
IT’S GOOD TO BE BACK!
Addendum: So Saturday night’s official comeback gig wasn’t really my best gig. There were technical difficulties, and I had less than a week to learn the songs we were supposed to play as the backing band for a singer/rapper we kinda work closely with. But who gives a fuck? If Michael Jordan and Tom Brady have/had their share of bad games, so can this, uh…Donte DiVincenzo/Jacoby Brissett. And it’s great to play for a production where nobody judges you for the superficial shit. Thank you, NewVibePH — till we rock again!
