At first, I wasn't really psyched about Mr. Big's concert in Manila. While I was a fan of the rock band way back in the early 90's, my initial reaction to finding out of their Manila outing was less than thrilling: they had to wait until they're over the hill to have a concert in the Philippines. Nevertheless, I still wanted to go.
May 10, 2011, Tuesday. My sister and I went to Araneta Coliseum, had an early dinner (a huge Taco Bell dinner, courtesy of BPI) and trooped to the gate. There was a crowd, but nothing too huge. We stayed on the sidelines, sitting on the barriers as we waited for the gates to open. It was sort of an eye opener for me: the crowd was older, no teeny bopper in sight (well, it was the same night as Justin Bieber's concert), and the people there were all old enough to be parents of the Justin Bieber fans. I realized that this was how MY generation looks like nowadays.
When we finally got in, we realized we needn't have worried about seats. The area where we are was not at all full; in fact, we could sit wherever we wanted (despite having reserved seats). Which is good, because I had been praying that I won't be seated next to a smelly man, or to a boisterous group. We chose seats that gave us a good view of the stage, and we were quite contented with our pick. A vendor came bearing blue glow-sticks, and though we knew these were way overpriced, we bought one each, to maximize the concert spirit.
The front acts came and we spent about half an hour wishing their acts were over and done with. They're not really very good, but both played rock so it was not excruciating to sit through their music.
And then came Mr. Big. The stars of the night. It was probably sometime during the opening chords of the first song, one from their Lean into it album, when I felt the Mr. Big bug bite me. I was transported back to the days when I listened to my cassette tape of their album over and over until I learned the words of their songs by heart. I remembered the first time I heard their music: To Be with You, played on the radio during a PE class in grade school, and everyone in my class had stopped to sing the song. I was reminded of how much their music was a part of my life back then, and it dawned on me that I still really do honestly love their music.
Soon we were dancing and waving our glow-sticks (thank God we bought them!) and singing our hearts out. After close to two decades, the words still came naturally to me. I really did knew them by heart! When they played my personal favorite, Green-tinted Sixties Mind, I was really high. I didn't care if I sang out of tune, or if I was making funny movements as I moved with the music, I just let it all out.
I was wrong to think that the band had lost their mojos. I was pleasantly amazed at how magical the night turned out to me. Eric Martin's voice sounded heart-breakingly familiar, and the songs were welcomed hauntings from the past, like a long-lost friend paying a long overdue surprise visit. Every word and every chord brought to the surface what I thought was long forgotten.
But because everything must end, the concert eventually did. Like lovers not wanting to leave each other, band and audience could not just separate. The band gave not one, but two encores, the first in response to the crowd and the second, only they know why. That night, everyone in the coliseum was taken back to the 90's, to the time when the king was Mr. Big, a time that never again will be. But for a few hours that night, we were magically all back to that time.
Thank you, Mr. Big, for making me realize that what the heart knows, it never forgets.
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