BARQ wants you to dance like no one’s watching
When he hits the club, hip-hop artist BARQ dances like no one’s watching. As he should. As anyone should. “I’m not afraid to have fun,” he says. “You’re supposed to have fun.”
But these days, he notices, people seem frozen on the floor. The music’s hot, the lights are flashing, the beats are pumping—and it’s still not enough to get them moving. But he can’t blame them. Cameras are everywhere, and the last thing anyone wants is to wake up the next morning to an unflattering video of themselves going viral on social media.
“I’m a frequent clubgoer, and a lot of people don’t really dance anymore. I feel sad that people are scared to have fun,” BARQ tells Lifestyle Inquirer. “But I’m not gonna lie—there are lots of bullies online. I don’t know why there are people who like to hate on each other.”
Also, there seems to be a perception, he feels, that it’s lame to have fun. It’s not. What’s actually lame is “thinking that it’s lame to have fun.” “As long as you’re not hurting anyone and doing anything reckless, you’re good,” he says. “I don’t think you should be embarrassed. You shouldn’t care about what people will think.”
Groove magnet
BARQ, whose real name is Arkin Magalona, knows that it’s easier said than done. That’s why he hopes that his latest single, “Shake Dat Thang”—a playful throwback to 2000s hip-hop—could be that irresistible groove magnet that pulls people back onto the dance floor.
“I came up with something fun because I want to get people dancing again. Something that lets you just let loose,” he says of the new song, which is quite the departure from his grittier and moodier past singles, “MPK” and “Remember.”
Written with BARQ’s good friend, R&B and hip-hop artist Kyleaux, “Shake Dat Thang” was inspired by the music of Timbaland, 50 Cent, and Pharrell and the iconic music production duo he was part of, The Neptunes. These influences are undeniable from the get-go, with the tune channeling the bouncy cadence of Sean Paul’s “Get Busy,” the sparse 808 drum kick of Snoop Dogg’s “Drop It Like It’s Hot” (produced by The Neptunes), and even 50 Cent’s signature “uh-huh” ad lib for flourish.
The music video is also a fitting homage to that era’s aesthetic: a heady club scene, flowing booze, and girls dancing in sultry Y2K ensembles. Of course, you can’t not throw in those occasional, dramatic slow-motion shots and slow pans mid-debauchery.
“This is the first music video I did with a big team behind it, so I’m quite new to this,” he says. Not nearly as new, though, as his first introduction for most people was his appearance in the 2005 “Superproxy 2K6” music video together with his father, the late “Master Rapper Francis M,” as well as rock icon Ely Buendia, and his son Eon.
“My team and I came up with the concept and then collaborated with other production companies,” adds BARQ, who recently signed with Sony Music Philippines. “I’m very happy with the result.”
Childhood nickname
While he embraces his family legacy, the rapper is also determined to make a name for himself. He sets the stage for both by sticking with his stage name. BARQ is a name not readily associated with the Magalonas, but it’s not entirely divorced from his roots, as it was a childhood nickname given to him by none other than Francis M himself.
Sometimes, BARQ feels like people interact with him only because of his last name, which—he admits with a knowing pause—“is very sad for me.”
“I just want to be known and to be seen for who I am as a person,” he says. But whatever pang of dismay he may have felt, he never grew to resentment, because he knows that his pursuit of a music career is also fueled by a desire to preserve his father’s legacy.
BARQ is always willing to perform Francis M hits in his own shows—including his favorite, “Kaleidoscope World”—if only to introduce his father’s music to younger people who may not be aware of the impact his work has had, especially in fostering Filipino pride: “Mga Kababayan Ko,” “Three Stars and a Sun,” and more.
“Some younger people would tell me that their parents love my dad, but they don’t necessarily know him,” says BARQ, the seventh of eight children Francis M had with Pia Magalona. “I would love for the younger generation to know his music because they were special, patriotic, and could hopefully inspire them to love our country.”
A great blessing
As much as he wishes to share interesting anecdotes about his father, or any valuable advice he may have received from him, the truth is, “I don’t remember my dad that much.”
BARQ was only 9 when Francis M died of leukemia in 2009, and he wouldn’t start making music until high school. BARQ isn’t even sure whether his father ever realized that his son would one day follow in his footsteps. “I would like to believe that if he were still alive today, he would see me as a peer to spar with—playfully, of course!” he muses.
Besides, if ever he has any questions about his father—about his life, journey, the struggles he endured—BARQ will always have his mother to turn to. After all, he says, his father wouldn’t be the man he is without Pia. “I love my mom to death and I appreciate her,” says BARQ, who also enjoys watching his father’s archival and music videos, and would never skip a video of him whenever one appears on his feed.
But if it’s any consolation, it’s BARQ who seemingly sounds most like his father—an observation shared by a few Francis M fans. He can hear the resemblance—somewhat—but he still thinks they both have distinct tones. Nevertheless, he couldn’t be more grateful. “I’m happy that some people recognize my dad through me,” he says. “It’s a great blessing.”
And for BARQ, there’s no better way to honor that gift than by simply making music that resonates with people. “That’s what music should be—it should elicit emotions from people,” he says. “And if I can do that, even for just one person, then my job is done.”
