ALBUM REVIEW: OH, FLAMINGO! — PAGTANDA
Pagtanda is the enclosure Oh, Flamingo! needed to complete their trifecta of artistic growth — from ambitious beginnings to wild, deviant phases, and to a tranquil point of maturity.
A friend of mine once said, “Oh, Flamingo! is the definitive OPM band of this age.” It’s a thought that has since been stuck at the peripheries of my brain. I wonder if my friend was onto something or if it was just the alcohol talking.
Oh, Flamingo! was at a critical juncture at the time: the release of their sophomore EP Volumes saw the band deviating from the brazen, indie-textured 2000s pop-rock sound in favor of a trippier, more visceral psychedelic rock motif — something up the alleys of the titos and titas. While it might not have been the cup of tea of every Oh, Flamingo! fan at the time, Volumes was a welcoming treat. I left the record thinking that the band was cooking something up for their first full-length release.
And they did, but not in the way that I had anticipated.
Enter Pagtanda, Oh, Flamingo!’s first full-length album, and their most introspective release yet. What I thought to be the band’s culmination of their seven-year run of wacky concepts and sonic experimentations turned out to be a recollection of the human pathos, funneled by the members’ own experiences expressed through song.
On the surface, Pagtanda is their most straightforward record to date. It carries heavily from its mid-’70s to ’90s influences — the Manila sound — and proudly wears it on its sleeves. The guitars are more subdued this time around, which gave more room for the keyboards and the brass sections to shine, but guitarists Pappu de Leon and Howard Luistro still have their moments every now and then. Drummer Pat Sarabia and bassist Billie Zulueta (who also took on a more active role as a singer) are still the strong backbones of the band, often providing that trademark groove from which the other members get their momentum.
The songs on Pagtanda are more downtrodden than they have ever been for the band. At times, they even get existential with the lyrics as they chronicle every point of loss and regret as one trudges the early stages of adulthood.
The opening track Makina takes you on a trip down anxiety lane, away from the mundanity of life. In Na Naman, Howard and Billie sing of the shame and resentment a person would feel from being trapped in the vicious cycle of a toxic relationship. Sa Totoo Lang deals with a lot of heavy stuff — inner struggles, fear of the unknown, and coming to terms with one’s mortality. It also sounds like a proper OPM anthem in the ’90s. How so, I’m not sure myself. Batang ’90s lang nakakaalam! (I am Gen-Z)
Pag-ibig Lang Ba, for how off-kilter its riff gets, posits a philosophical question many young adults have probably come across at least once in their lives.
Galit is a personal favorite of mine. I couldn’t count how many times I have bobbed my head to its bubbly ’70s funk groove and Pappu’s excellent riffage while humming about contempt and betrayal. A mood.
But for how bleak some of these moments are in Pagtanda, it never felt out of place. Nothing from Oh, Flamingo!’s limited but already colorful discography has.
Sigurado is a teaser track memorable not only for capturing the Manila sound’s sweetest pop sensibilities but also for what it stands for. The song is a love letter to our fur babies and their strong bond with their respective hoomans. The lyrics will surely tug your heartstrings if you haven’t heard it yet (Seriously, why? You’re missing out!). And while you’re at it, share this tune with your lola. Tell her you’re welcome.
Pagtanda is a record of self-reflection and change. Stylistically, the album is Oh, Flamingo’s most toned-down. It was not the return to form to the eponymous EP or the evolution of Volumes I had anticipated from a band my friend thought of as “definitive OPM”. Rather, Pagtanda is the enclosure Oh, Flamingo! needed to complete their trifecta of artistic growth — from ambitious beginnings to wild, deviant phases, and to a tranquil point of maturity.
This three-record run is a framework that encapsulates the human experience, and Oh, Flamingo! nailed the ending perfectly with Pagtanda. This is not to say the band should stop making more albums to ruin this excellent run. But if there is a legacy they can leave behind, it is their diverse catalogue of songs capturing the OPM sound that stands as an impetus to the experiences many can relate to, regardless of age and circumstance.
Also, I think my friend was a genius all along.
Originally published at http://theflyinglugaw.com on February 22, 2023.
