Early this month, I was invited to a major concert of some of today’s most popular OPM stars. I looked forward to it. Part of the allure was the concert venue, the Philippine Arena in Bocaue, Bulacan.
SB19 as the evening’s main event
And here was a chance to watch the bands social media is talking about; the all-girl BINI and the boy band SB19—two bands in one concert was quite a feat. Puregold OPM con 2025 was organized by Puregold, the supermarket chain.
Crowd-pleasers BINI
BINI jumpstarted the show, while SB19 was grand finale. They bookended such popular acts as Flow G, G22, Kaia, Suska Clee, and SunKissed Lola. In the rainy weather, fans flocked to the arena for this four-hour extravaganza, which didn’t feel that long though. Stage direction was tight and the performers dazzling.
I wasn’t that familiar with the work of the performers. I belong to an age group whose concept of OPM consists of Nyoy Volante or Kuh Ledesma. And to my mind, the works of George Canseco and Ryan Cayabyab have yet to fade. They’ve never been revived because they never vanished. Their music continues to play on radio.
The invention of USBs allowed me to create my own playlist I could listen to on the mobile or laptop. I haven’t had access to radio since my car radio died (the rest of the car soon followed), so I just rely on my playlist. This has inadvertently sheltered me from the sound of the 2020s. Sorry to say I’m not familiar with the music of Taylor Swift and Katy Perry. Among the “newer” tracks on my playlist is a cover by the easy-listening band, The Company. Its bossa nova recordings introduced me to an amusing song by Parokya ni Edgar, called Harana.
Songs that sparkle with wit and delve into the Filipino psyche endeared bands like Hot Dog, Eraserheads, and Parokya ni Edgar to the public. They told stories about our shortcomings, dreams, and heartbreaks, with such droll lyrics.
But it’s 2025, and the name of the game is manufactured bands of carefully selected performers with the youthful energy, beautiful singing voices, and beautiful faces to match. Each performer has charisma in spades, and can connect to the audience. These performers have the showmanship and the pizzazz to bring down the house. That is OPM today, and it comes with a K-pop twist. Our music industry, it seems, has given up on traditional OPM.
It’s 2025, and the name of the game is manufactured bands of carefully selected performers with the youthful energy, beautiful singing voices, and beautiful faces to match
A friend told me it’s not about aping K-pop, but about catering to the tastes of international audiences. We all love our classic OPM songs, but they haven’t struck a chord abroad. Filipino entertainers can always lure a sizable audience in the US, though the bulk of ticketholders tend to be Fil-Americans. And what happened to the singers who made a tremendous impression on Oprah and Glee? Apparently, they just came and went.
The humungous Philippine Arena was filled to the rafters.
So it’s come down to Filipino entertainers having to imitate K-pop stars, on one end, or, on the other end, to sing Stephen Sondheim on Broadway, to get a foot at the door of world entertainment. That being the case, bands such as Eraserheads then deserve to be National Artist. Our “international” performers who make it on the word stage can win other accolades elsewhere.
The Puregold OPM con was thoroughly entertaining. It was an expensive production with state-of-the art lighting. Each group was showcased in spectacular fashion. Non-fans like me enjoyed every moment.
Today’s concert audiences are of a different breed. They don’t applaud, they scream in ecstasy. By the next morning, about 90 percent of the girls in the audience, I was tempted to predict, would have had laryngitis. If they weren’t screaming, they were taking videos. Also, nobody stood up to dance during the finale; the audience was too busy posting on social media.
This was a world away from a concert the Philippine Philharmonic Orchestra had in a coastal town in Antique province more than five years ago. When the orchestra played a medley of the VST & Company hits, the audience stood up as one to rock to the music. Senators, mayors, and congressmen let their hair down and grooved.
Will people be dancing to SB19’s music 50 years from now? They most probably will. The arena was full, proof of their popularity. We wish them a long career. Each member deserves his place in the sun. They’ve been working hard, and I hope they aren’t displaced by the time they reach a certain age.
Dulce also had her own concert at the Maybank BGC Performing Arts Center.
Speaking of staying power, the venerable Dulce in her own weekend concert proved just how irreplaceable she is. Her voice remains as pure and strong as it did when she was winning one singing contest after another in the 1970s. At one point in the show, she sang a medley of OPM classics, most of them by George Canseco.
Speaking of staying power, the venerable Dulce proved how irreplaceable she is
In contrast to that at Philippine Arena, Dulce’s concert was in a more intimate venue, the Maybank BGC Performing Arts Theater. Although the show had state-of-the-art lighting, the star didn’t need it. The songs and the singer were enough to keep audiences captivated.
Like Sinatra and Streisand, Dulce doesn’t just sing a song; she tells the story of the song. She doesn’t belt out to show off, she expresses the emotion. I‘ve seen a few singing competitions on TV, where the contestants tend to belt out to impress the judges with their vocal reach. While it does garner higher points, the story of the song is lost.
Dulce in a duet with guest star Arman Ferrer
A Dulce performance is a trip down memory lane. It was an OPM festival, and she didn’t stick to one era. Dulce did a rapturous rendition of the Aegis hit Basang Basa sa Ulan. She made it sound like it was especially written for her. She also did Broadway but in Tagalog. There was a duet with Arman Ferrer, whose exquisite voice is a perfect match to Dulce’s. The song was I Dreamed a Dream from Les Miserables. The Tagalog lyrics, penned by Pete Lacaba, are transcendent.
Dulce’s concert also featured elaborate lighting effects.
Dulce also raised Memory (from Cats) to a new level. Also sung with lyrics by Lacaba, Dulce’s Memory was, to me, the finest version of the song. She turned it into a Puccini-esque aria. Amazingly, nothing’s lost in Lacaba’s brilliant translation. He imparts the original message in his own eloquent prose.
OPM could be adopting a new face and sound, but we’re fortunate to have stars like Dulce stay active on the concert scene. Like her contemporaries, she’s kept their music sound as fresh as today’s OPM. It was apt that she ended the show with her signature Ako Nagwagi, Ako ang Nasawi. Dulce is still a winner.
