Let Bamboo do his thing, at his own pace
Bamboo likes to take his sweet time between albums. That’s three years, four years, and now, 11 years and counting. The music industry is cutthroat, more so now with streaming, which can push artists to keep releasing new music to stay on people’s radar. But Bamboo feels no such need—at least not anymore.
“I’m not pressured at all,” he tells Lifestyle Inquirer.
Songs he can live with
That kind of grind Bamboo knew very well, all too well, with Rivermaya. There was a single, an album every year… or two. Understandable for a young rock band still trying to prove its worth. Then came a solo career and a much-needed reassessment.
“I have gone through that… That was a different thing, and I learned from that,” he says of his time and grind with Rivermaya. “But I also asked myself: ‘Was that something I wanted to do? Was that for me?’ I don’t think so.”
Different strokes for different folks. Some artists are naturally prolific, and if that’s how they want to go about it, great—“hats off to them,” he says. Bamboo, perhaps owing to his being a perfectionist, often finds himself measuring his work against this question: Is it something he can live with for the next 20, 30 years of his life?
No? He can wait. “One thing I’m really careful about is putting out something that doesn’t really feel [like] me.”
Of course, wanting to take your time and actually being able to afford to do so aren’t the same thing. And that isn’t lost on him. “Maybe that’s the gift of being here for a while,” he says.
Resisting sadness and pain
That Bamboo is releasing his first solo song in 11 years—not even an album—says a lot.
Written by longtime collaborator Ria Villena Osorio, “Alon” is a haunting ballad tinged with blues, inspired by aches both her own and those of people close to her. It’s a reflection on growing old; on feeling young at heart and in mind but dealing with grown-up hardships; on holding on to love when it’s no longer there.
For some reason, the words kept coming to Osorio, thoughts fully formed in Bamboo’s voice, especially the first few lines: “Umuulan na naman / Sa dulo ng aking kakayanan.”
“His voice was really bugging me. I couldn’t sleep, so I said, ‘I need to write this,’” she says. “His voice wrote it in my head.”
“She knows I’m going to kick ass!” Bamboo quips.
Although the verses tell specific stories, the chorus—about the waves of doubt and sorrow that drown us—takes a turn toward the universal. During recording, Bamboo started seeing the song as a commentary on “what’s happening in our country.” The lines “Alon, umaalon / Nalulunod na ako / ‘Di makatulog, binabangungot / Ginigising ng lungkot” pretty much sum up his sentiments.
“All the issues going on, and there’s still no light. We can’t figure it out. Come on, there’s so many things going on in the world… We have to figure this out and come together,” stresses the singer-songwriter, who considers himself a “witness.” “Social commentary has always been part of me.”
The song’s pain and sadness are unmistakable; Bamboo’s role is to resist them. “I’m sort of that figure here. I won’t accept the status quo, this doom and gloom,” he says. “It has always been about hope and the idea of change… and I’m never going to let go of that optimism.”
“Alon” was years in the making. Bamboo, Osorio, and guitarist Ardie de Guzman did a lot of back and forth, revisiting the demos, adding sections, playing with different arrangements, and tinkering with the mixing and mastering until they got it right. “It’s a song I care about—its bones, its process,” he says.
Something angrier
For the past 11 years, Bamboo has been touring and doing live performances, collaborating with other artists, and serving as a mentor on “The Voice Philippines.” And while at some point he felt unsure what to do next, how to proceed amid the changing landscape, he kept writing.
Surely, it’s not too much of a leap to assume that he may have been keeping tons of songs in the vault.
“I wouldn’t say tons, but I have a lot; I have enough. It’s something I look forward to tackling, playing,” says Bamboo, who has also reunited with his longtime label, PolyEast Records, through its sublabel Filtered Music.
Maybe something faster and more energetic? I expected as much for his comeback single. “You sound like my manager! But I promise I will make a happier one,” he says. “Well, not happier—angrier!”
But seriously, “Alon”—although a bit different from what he usually does—is the kind of song he likes listening to and could very well set the tone for the follow-up to his 2015 album “Bless This Mess.” Or a “new chapter” in his career.
“As an artist, you go where you can grow, and I think this is about change and redirection,” he says. “I never pictured myself being the same character all the way. You have to be a chameleon. You have to evolve.”
Now, when might we at last hear this new music he’s working on? Not this year, that’s for sure. Maybe 2027? Again, he’s taking his time, giving himself space to be himself.
“Let me do my thing. That’s all I ask,” he says. “Let me do my thing.”
