"Before the scourges of selfies have been inflicted upon an unsuspecting humanity, there were people who simply found a personal narrative in the language of the blues."

Ray “Binky” Lampano, Jr.: Blues Alley

Philippines blues band of Lampano Alley is still singularly dedicated to the proposition of the Blues, the whole Blues, and nothing but the Blues since its humble beginnings in 1996. The idea of the band was concocted by its leader, Binky Lampano, Jnr., in Los Angeles chitlin' circuit jam sessions and communicated to a dedicated cabal of future cohorts - Tom Colvin, Edwin Vergara, and Simon Tan - via snail mail in the days of dialup Internet. A Lampano Alley performance is like the "medicine shows" of old where each and every piece of music and stage gesture, as the gig wears on builds toward a grand climax.

Simultaneously sly, witty, spiritual, and intense at every collective musical turn-of-phrase, the band is a veritable old time religion experience in music. Lampano Alley continues to tell its stories to its listeners in the key of life. An acclaimed fixture of the pre-grunge scene in the early 80s, Lampano continues to have a love-hate relationship with his moniker. Perhaps, it has always been his strange name that gave intensity to the singing.  It takes extreme gumption to outlive its strangeness and make listeners follow his lead on an emotional journey. Equally at home with the jazz and blues standards of old to odd ditties of novelty, Lampano channels life through each verse with street-smarts and finesse. With the near feral ability to be confrontational and earnest in a single turn of phrase, Lampano’s mystique was summed up once by a well-known Philippine entertainment figure as “the voice you can't forget.” Well, also not, in the very least, his name.

Interview by Michael Limnios

What do you learn about yourself from the blues and what does the blues mean to you?

That life is full of possibilities. One must learn being less fearful to face its possibilities, to explore its nooks and crannies in the realm human emotion. 

How do you describe Lampano sound and songbook? What characterize your music philosophy?

The sound in my head is one of spaces, prolonged silences where things are left to resolve themselves. In terms of language, I’m more fascinated by ellipses than outright punctuation marks – periods or exclamation points. We play stuff from the usual sources, from Chicago, the Texas-style of Albert Collins, a good dose of urban stylings bordering on R&B from the likes of B.B. King, T-Bone Walker, Bobby “Blue” Bland, Jimmy Witherspoon, Joe Williams, and Ray Charles – a bit of the modern stuff from Robben Ford and Robert Cray (even more so), whose respective conceptions of the blues I have more affinity to than any other player. I’m quite attached to the stylings of a Ronnie Earl than the Stevie Rays of the world. I listen to a fair bit of jazz, too, so I try to get some of it as organically possible in the blues context without being academic or stuck-up with the weird voicings to show off. 

I try to exist in the margins of forgetfulness and the obvious when I play or write music. I’m a singer, and the voice is as close to the heartbeat as one can get. My business is to tell a story – no more, no less. I don’t ever recall ever phrasing the same way twice. I like leaving the vital aspects of it to chance in a live setting. The sound and music really happens when I can hear the audience talk, which can be rare these days when it’s too easy to give in to high decibels to illustrate a point. I prefer it that way since I’m also a bit hearing-impaired. There’s more to the blues than being “down” or its usual clichés. It’s too bad that the lyrical depth of a Robert Johnson has been fudged over by the more visceral, downhome Chess-style that came from Chicago.

"I think we need sharp-as-tack gentlemen of the blues again, not the leisure-suited ones playing to strung-out crowds in the ‘70s. I also miss musicians who can hold a really slow beat, and can tell a story." (Photo: Lapano Alley - Binky, Tan, Vergara, Colvin and Lim) 

Why did you think that the Blues music continues to generate such a devoted following around the world?

Because it’s always emotionally accessible. Let’s talk about people who simply love it: before the scourges of selfies have been inflicted upon an unsuspecting humanity, there were people who simply found a personal narrative in the language of the blues. Maybe they found their redemption in it or something of even more lasting value.

Are there any memories from gigs, jams, open acts and studio which you’d like to share with us?

When I first came to the Los Angeles, I was often invited jam sessions by old timers in the Crenshaw district and asked if I had any kinky hair hiding in my head. It was always good times with soul food and music.   

Some years back, Lampano Alley with a pickup horn section was recorded live straight-off the board at the ol’ Hobbit House (a well-known music haunt in Manila). It was just pure magic that night. We didn’t even have to try, it just happened. Even at the knottier arrangements, we just sailed through it like the Paul Butterfield at the height of glory.  

A few years ago, I managed to get onstage with a band whose Hammond player was from Walter Trout’s band.  It was a ride, I tell you.

Studio remains a mystery to me. For some reason, studios always felt antiseptic, far removed from the music to me. So far, the only studio I felt comfortable as a musician was Sun Studio in Memphis. I think it was magic when I recorded with the Brat Pack in January of this year. The room breathed the way it should and the instruments just seemed to play themselves without human intervention. It almost felt you also took in the spirits of all the giants who played there from Ike Turner, Rufus Thomas, Elvis Presley, Johnny Cash, and Jerry Lee Lewis onwards.  

"That life is full of possibilities. One must learn being less fearful to face its possibilities, to explore its nooks and crannies in the realm human emotion." (Photo by Eddie Boy Escudero)

Which meetings have been the most important experiences for you? What is the best advice ever given you?

One great experience was playing in the maiden Mosaic Music Festival in Singapore, where I met Danny Loong, who has since become the country’s music kingpin. It’s great to have met somebody like him, who relentlessly pursued his passion.

The best advice I ever received was from some drunken musician who just told me to “make music sound good.” Another memorable one was from Wynton Marsalis, “to listen to the masters.”

What do you miss most nowadays from the blues of past? What are your hopes and fears for the future of?

Muddy and his crew in a sharkskin suits just like in the old Newport Folk Festival videos. I think we need sharp-as-tack gentlemen of the blues again, not the leisure-suited ones playing to strung-out crowds in the ‘70s. I also miss musicians who can hold a really slow beat, and can tell a story. I hope there are more blues festivals in the future that can connect all the players in the world. I also think people have less time for fighting when they’re playing something. As for fears, I think it’ll be an incredible waste of time to indulge in them. Best to keep one’s ears peeled for new players, sounds, and such.

Make an account of the case of the blues in Philippines. Which is the most interesting period in local blues scene?

A lot of things are happening now. You have the Philippine Blues Society and the Blues Asia Network advocating the music, not only in the Philippines but the entire region, and making connections. Perhaps one day, there will be a real blues circuit that will stretch from Manila to Europe. You’ve got a lot of good players in Manila right now from likes of guitarist Paul Marney Leobrera and harpist Ian Lofamia to slide-guitarist Hoochie Coochie Mickie and the Brat Pack that made it to the finals of the 2014 International Blues Competition; and a slew of other acts. Things will definitely be even more interesting in the near term.

                                                            "Binky" & Thomas Colvin / Photo by Eddie Boy Escudero

What are the lines that connect the legacy of Blues from United States and UK to Philippines and South-East Asia?

More than anything, it’s the U.K. Blues boom that gave birth to much what we know now as rock n’ roll elsewhere that can be considered as the main intersection of all these lines. There’s the pantheon of guitar heroes like Eric Clapton, Jeff Beck, Jimmy Page, and Jimi Hendrix, who influenced generations of musicians in this region. That’s a lot of ground to cover. In the Philippines, it’s the Juan de la Cruz Band, Anak Bayan, Maria Cafra, and the rest of stalwarts of Pinoy Rock. And then there are Lampano Alley and the Blue Rats from the ‘90s the brought back the blues in the more traditional sense by drawing from the old songbooks, and the later generation of bands a decade later. I’m sure there are a lot more good players out there in the region who deserve attention. One day, we will all just be connected and make it happen the way it did in England in the ‘60s.

Are there any similarities between lyrics, scale or feeling of Blues and local music genres?

There will always be allusions alcohol, women, and bad luck in any musical form, I suppose. I take all that as a device for irony, and also as where most of us mortals start. Did you know the “Philippine Islands” has the distinction of being in Robert Johnson’s “I Believe I’ll Dust My Broom?” But that’s where it ends for the most part. It really depends. Lyric-wise, it could just be as one “waking up in the morning” or such, but it’s the progression or pentatonic scale form that pegs a tune as a “blues.” Back in the ‘70s, there was a night club scene given to local tunes with a predominantly old-school R&B that went over the heads of inebriated listeners but for the lovelorn lyrics. For instance, “the eagle flies on Friday” on Stormy Monday, and “get my hair a sock” on Don’t Start Me Talking” are very American expressions. On the other hand, term “mojo” on “I’ve Got My Mojo Working” is also a very African-American thing, but has some Filipino resonance because herbalists in the Philippines make them too for kids to ward off evil spirits. Give it some time, and the scene will develop its own expressions.

"The sound in my head is one of spaces, prolonged silences where things are left to resolve themselves. In terms of language, I’m more fascinated by ellipses than outright punctuation marks – periods or exclamation points." (Photo: "Binky" on stage with Lampano Alley, Tom Colvin on harmonica & Edwin Vergara on guitar)

What has made you laugh lately and what touched (emotionally) you from the local music circuits?

There’s a lot of new blood making rounds in the scene with other influences and even greater skill at music. It’s all the better to make the scene richer and give it more flavors than the usual variety. I check out the local scene on YouTube quite often when some new sound or band piques my curiosity. I must say there are more interesting ones than outright duds. There are many great players in an individual capacity just waiting for the right band to blow everybody out of the water.

If you could change one thing in local music scene and it would become a reality, what would that be?

To give musicians a decent wage.

Let’s take a trip with a time machine, so where and why would you really wanna go for a whole day..?

Blues-wise, take a trip back to Muddy Water’s gig at the 1960 Newport Folk Music Festival or Howlin’ Wolf in 1966, so I can witness Chicago Blues’s finest at their slickest.  Music is best when all you do is listen. 

Lampano Alley - official website

Photos by Eddie Boy Escudero