Freddie Aguilar’s legacy lives on through timeless songs
The death of Freddie Aguilar at age 72 in the morning of May 27 somehow gave us time to reflect and appreciate the man’s music — his truth, which makes him a true legend.
Amid his foray into politics and his controversial life choices, Ka Freddie was an artist whose achievements and aura couldn’t be underplayed. There will never be another “Ka Freddie,” nor will the place of “Anak” in Philippine music history ever be threatened.
In 2019, I met the man in person and wrote about him in this same column after we tackled the birth of “Anak.” Both my bands, Syato and The Pub Forties, were able to perform at his bar along Morato Avenue in Quezon City. I prefer to pay respect by honoring songs he wrote or interpreted that made him essentially great. It’s immaterial to do a ranking, as these 10 in random order can create a vivid picture of his body of musical work.
Anak — One evening after playing billiards with his close friend Roger Flores, whose son Jay used to be my bandmate, the Pinoy folk hero started talking about his signature piece, noting how special his live version was at the first-ever Metropop Song Festival. He recalled that his career was on the line that day, and then he certainly nailed it. The judges, however, didn’t even place his finalist entry in the Top Three. It won the support of the public anyway, becoming — drum roll, please — the best-selling Filipino record of all time. It has also been translated into 51 languages.
Bayan Ko — Aguilar was not the composer of “Bayan Ko,” whose origin dates back to the Philippine-American War. But modern society has accepted his rendition as definitive, elevated as an anthem against tyranny. Here in the States, it’s not surprising to hear Filipino-American singers do their own version during events to express their love and care for the country.
Magdalena — One of the singer-songwriter’s most beautiful tunes, this song is sung with gravitas; it makes the phrase “kalapating mababa ang lipad” touchingly emphatic, while the notable red district in the City of Manila, as mentioned, appears cinematic.
Estudyante Blues — For a time when I was a school grader, you could hear this on the radio over and over. In just two verses, relaying the tale of a disgruntled youth feeling trapped living under the watch of their strict and detached parents, the number sends the scathing message straight home, wrapped in a deliriously upbeat rhythm. It spawned a 1989 movie of the same title, which, by the way, is never stated in the song.
Bulag, Pipi At Bingi — The respected music industry figure Snaffu Rigor wrote this track that allowed Freddie Aguilar to become the interpreter of an eventual Metropop winner.
Minamahal Kita — In 1993, the year this song was released, I spent the summer in Claveria, Masbate, at the house of my granduncle we called Lolo Jun. He would sing along each time he heard this, then-new tune. Many years later, I would meet Ka Freddie’s co-composer, and he said it was a highlight of his life to work with a decorated musician.
Pinoy — The electric guitar work here is effective in its simplicity and strong recall, appropriately serving the melody run that you can groove to the song while feeling that sense of Filipino pride. When it comes to being patriotic, the country’s most legendary folk singer could deliver whether in kundiman or pop-rock.
Kumusta Ka — With the enormous success of his songwriting, Ka Freddie’s singing — the bare beauty of his voice — is often overshadowed. Here, his vocal sweeps through, which paves the way for the seamless flow of the melody.
Ipaglalaban Ko — At a press conference to launch an album that included his repurposed version of this track, which was used to promote the candidacy of a populist leader, Ka Freddie said that a jingle should already be a famous tune because campaign periods are short. This is a cerebral love song that I felt was undermined by its attachment to politics. Nevertheless, it remains to be the singer’s finest romantic ballad.
Napupuyat — This track may be described as a piece of country music with Tagalog lyrics. For its hooky chorus that repeats the title in quick-fun succession, it’s a pity it did not become as classic as, say, “Estudyante Blues.”