We Need To Talk About Pogi Rock
First of all, pardon the direct reference to Finn “Punk Rock MBA” McKenty’s style of titling some of his popular YouTube videos. I will refer to him later on in this piece, and with good reason.
For years, I had little to no appreciation or respect for the genre derisively known as “pogi rock.” For non-Filipino readers, that literally translates to “handsome rock” or “hunk rock,” but it would arguably be more accurate to refer to it as the Philippines’ equivalent of what they call “butt rock” in the Western world. During my time in some of my former bands, including Brokensauce and Anonyme, I secretly worried that some of our songs were teetering on pogi rock territory. And I seldom passed up the opportunity to bash bands such as Hale (see featured image), Callalily, Spongecola, and Rocksteddy for writing safe, banal, and trite music for the masses.
Fifteen years after pogi rock’s heyday, the genre is still not my musical cup of tea. On the foreign side of things, I still have no love for Nickelback as a band, though I will begrudgingly admit that Chad Kroeger surrounded himself with some talented musicians. There is such a thing as a bridge too far, after all. But I can definitely say that at this point in my life and my “career” as a musician, I have recently found a new respect for certain purveyors of Butt Rock, Filipino Style. And that’s where the aforementioned Mr. McKenty comes in.
“Writing simple, catchy songs is really fucking hard.”
Finn McKenty
As McKenty explains in the video above, butt rock is all about “catchy, accessible” songs that the average Joe could appreciate. Likewise, pogi rock is built on the same principles — relatable lyrics, uncomplicated song structures, and tons and tons of hooks. I could also add that well after its heyday, pogi rock seldom sounds dated — much as I still love Eraserheads, Wolfgang, Razorback, and other local bands that reached their peak in the ’90s, you can taste the 20-peso Pale Pilsen (or 40-peso Blue Ice) and smell the stank of the original Club Dredd’s men’s room in their riffs. Pogi rock, somehow, has a more evergreen sound to it, and that likewise applies to certain bands from the same era such as Sugarfree and post-first album Sandwich that I’ve always enjoyed in one way or another.
Allow me for a moment to use the logic of the 2019 film Yesterday and assume that Eraserheads and Kamikazee (technically not pogi rockers, but adjunct to the scene) never existed.
A song like E-Heads’ “Ligaya” arranged as-is with 1993 production and released by a band of nobodies? Probably not a mainstream hit in 2020, but definitely popular with a niche market. “Narda” by Kamikazee arranged as-is with 2006 production and released by yet another band of nobodies? That’s a surefire breakout hit, and something many of today’s rock fans could still appreciate and relate to. And that’s not even mentioning today’s generation of indie rockers — they make music your average 20-something young millennial professional could appreciate, but with few exceptions, don’t really resonate with the masses. While it takes talent to become a critical darling, that, too, applies when it comes to the music your average hipster cognoscenti reviewer derides for being too basic.
“Even though I don’t necessarily love the music, the Hale, Mayonnaise, 6cyclemind kind of fans really are my people in a lot of ways.”
Enzo Tanos, paraphrasing Finn McKenty
Maybe it’s the nine years I spent in the call center industry and the bands (not counting The Chenelins, who were decidedly unconventional) that I joined or formed with fellow agents. Or maybe it’s the fact I often felt too middle-class while studying in schools attended by the scions of the upper crust of society. But give me a choice of drinking buddies and nine times out of 10, I’ll choose the supposed normies whose tastes lean closer toward pogi rock than “critical darling” music. And those would mostly be the types I’d invite to my bands’ gigs.
Regardless of economic class or academic background — mind you, they don’t just come from the “masa” demographics — these people are far more relatable, and when it comes to music, they are far easier to please. Conversely, they’ll also be the first to tell you at a gig that certain elements of your set were a bit off. Speaking from experience, many (but not all) of the artsy-fartsy types will either leave before your set is over, spend most of their time “watching” you from the smoking area, or pretend they liked your set before quietly leaving. Plastikan, in other words.
Again, I’m speaking based on my real-world experience in close to 25 years as a musician and 40+ years as a music fan. Pogi rock fans, or those who may be pigeonholed as such, tend to be more open-minded when it comes to niche stuff. They may not know jack about Pavement/Stephen Malkmus, Deafheaven, Earthmover, or The Strangeness (talk about a random grab bag of foreign and local acts I like), but they’ll be more likely to listen to your out-of-the-box recommendations than hoity-toity, artsy-fartsy individuals may be willing to give pogi/butt rock a chance. Isn’t it much more refreshing to talk music with someone who’s open-minded (no, no segues to networking talk here, wink wink) about stuff that’s outside their wheelhouse rather than someone who shits on everything remotely mainstream? TL;DR — it sucks to be a hater.
ADDENDUM: To be more accurate, it’s the Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Wolfgang, etc. kind of fans who grew up in the early-mid ’90s who are closer than anyone else to being my “people.” Still, same banana. ‘Cept for the “all new music sucks” subset of this group, they’ll support the hell out of your band, offer constructive criticism after sucky gigs, and open their minds to stuff they don’t normally listen to.
“Part of me kinda wishes that I did like butt rock.”
Finn McKenty
As you all know, garage rock is my jam, or at least WAS my primary jam until earlier this year when I realized how creepy some modern-day throwback rockers are (oh hai, Nobunny and Joey Armstrong) and finally admitted that a lot of the ’60s garage rock I still listen to is based on ass-backward boomer values about women. Still, I’ll gladly lose myself in the ‘60s-tinged riffs of The Shivas or Frankie and the Witch Fingers when not enjoying the politically-charged rap of Run the Jewels or throwing back to my ’90s/early ‘00s indie nerd days while listening to Pavement or Olivia Tremor Control. My musical tastes have broadened greatly since last year, but pogi rock is still not my jam.
Like Finn McKenty wishes he genuinely liked butt rock, I, too, wish I could like pogi rock. I wish I could go beyond scoffing at Rocksteddy’s straight-up Tagalog equivalent of Weezer’s “Pink Triangle” (“Leslie”) and do more than just respect Teddy Corpuz’s ability to write songs with good hooks (yes, that also includes “Leslie”) and Juven Pelingon’s flashy and technically proficient leads. But Finn made a good point when he said that the punk and metal scenes he prefers are ruined by the presence of holier-than-thou “gatekeepers.”
Sadly, there are far too many niches and scenes here that keep the proverbial gates in similar ways.
Older than 30? Next.
Little knowledge of highbrow non-musical stuff like art films? Sorry, pal.
Business graduate? Nope, not the collegiate background we want.
Likes some mainstream bands? Too corny, dude pare tsong.
And I thought y’all were supposed to be all about making the outcasts feel more at home.
That’s not the kind of mentality espoused by the average pogi rock fan or clique. Critics may hate the bands, but you can’t go wrong with fans that, for the most part, won’t judge you based on your “cred” or your “clout” (or lack thereof) or diss you for making music they see as corny. Those are the fans I appreciate the most, and if my younger self may have shat on your musical heroes, early-40-something me sincerely apologizes.
