Imagine
mescueta@theguidon.com
It torments me to say that Original Pilipino Music (OPM) is underrated and taken for granted. As a Filipino, I am deeply ashamed. As a musician, I am truly dejected.
OPM has been criticized by upper class Filipinos for low production quality and lack of originality. The Philippine music industry is in a stagnant condition due to the unfavorable impression and stigma that the upper class Filipino has about local music.
But if Filipino musicians are known worldwide to be one of the best and most talented, then why is OPM doing so poorly?
Like all industries, the Philippine music industry exists to make money. It’s sad but true to say that profit comes ahead of passion for executives in the industry.
Last June, Cynthia Alexander, one of the most iconic singers, songwriters and bass players in the country, moved to Seattle, citing lack of support from the industry as her reason.
What Alexander meant was that artists need support and assurance that they can stay true to themselves and to their craft, rather than bending to the record company’s standards of music that sells—covers, pop songs, and being packaged to look like foreign acts. Originality is forgone. This was what prompted Alexander to seek greener pastures. Can we blame her or any other Filipino musician that feels and does the same?
The current situation forces non-pop or non-mainstream groups like Up Dharma Down and Terno Recordings to go indie, refusing to sell out by working with larger record companies. While there is nothing wrong with making pop or mainstream music with the larger record companies, one must realize that in the current situation, doing so jeopardizes the identity and integrity of the Filipino musician.
In the United States, bands that catch the interest of a record company are usually given money to buy professional equipment and record demos, or time to gain more experience. After some time, the record company brokers a deal to record a full-length album with a budget of at least a few hundred thousand to a million dollars or more. Almost a year is spent at the studio recording, producing, mixing and mastering every song to perfection.
But here in the Philippines, a full-length album is crammed into a few months with a few hundred thousand pesos or less. The lack of professional equipment and trained sound engineers and producers compromise the overall quality of the sound. Furthermore, the industry caters to the mass market. This target market, coupled with the record companies’ idea of music that sells, is what compromises the quality and diversity of OPM. Who cares if the recording quality is bad or if the recording process was rushed? The masses, they think, will still buy it.
Alexander shared in an exclusive interview with the Manila Bulletin that “art flourishes even in difficult times,” and support from the industry or the listeners is intertwined. Alexander said she wasn’t sad, saying, “Pinoys are very resilient; we survive [and] thrive on little… We can build a house on sticks!”
Ultimately, OPM will remain and the Filipino will keep the music coming. While the industry may not want to risk or invest money in “music that does not sell,” we, as those who love and appreciate any kind of music, should give our beloved OPM artists a chance to win our hearts.
