Cynthia Alxander | H Photography

The other day I was driving home in rainy-Friday traffic and listening to Cynthia Alexander’s Walk Down the Road album. There was a deep sadness to it, sadness of a happy kind if ever there is such. It’s probably not accurate to say that it is the musician I miss–we were never the kind of BFFs who chat on the phone or meet up for lunch or coffee; it’s more like I see her on her gigs and she drops by our table for a little chat, and of course there’s the annual Bloom exhibit. While I love her music, I can always listen to all her albums and it’s so easy to just watch her on Youtube.

So what do I miss, exactly?

at 19 East, the send-off series

It’s a period of time, in my life. A time that I wouldn’t exactly want to go through all over again but it was one when silver linings shone through with such intensity that the dark clouds were nearly eclipsed. It was a time when old friends vanished precisely when I needed them most, a time when there was trouble in practically all fronts. And this was the time when a friend stood by me, kept me sane, kept me company. A friend who endured and never complained about the obnoxious other “friends” that I sometimes brought. And we went to Cynthia’s gigs. Never mind that she lives about fifty kilometers away from Conspi. Cynthia’s gigs were practically the only thing that could make her travel that far, and back, in the wee hours of the morning.

It’s the warmth of Cynthia, who never treated us like the bug-eyed fans that we were. It’s her interaction with the band, never acting like she’s the star of the show. It’s Mlou’s multi instrument stunt. It’s CJ Wasu’s tablas. It’s Cynthia’s almost-shy way of acknowledging your presence even in a packed Conspi, her reprimands of my smoking, our hesitation to order sisig or anything non-vegetarian and the silly fear that the smell of a pig’s face on a sizzling plate might cause her to faint. Cynthia, if ever you read this, apologies, but that gave us a good laugh.

I can only wish her all the best, and thank her for the huge part her gigs and music played in the bonds of friendship formed. As for my friend, I’m sure I’ll see her, maybe in gigs down south this time.

30 October, 2010.

So, Cynthia Alexander, the indie rock goddess who gave me insomnia singing I-N-S-O-M-nia, left last summer, hied of to Seattle to test its musical waters. You know that discomfiting spot, like wishing someone the best best best, yet that little selfish part of you is afraid that she might never come back, and you’d have to book a flight to somewhere int the US to catch her gig again? That selfish fear was so transparent Cynthia chided me with “Really?” when i wished her luck. I said Of course I do, but I certainly wish you’d come back and gig still. It was with excitement that we cheered her gig in New York. Yes, New York! and at the same time chewed our fingernails: let’s hope she visits and gigs here still!

The irony of it all. In many ways it pains me that (not only) in my country, undoubtedly talented musicians perform in tiny bars like Conspiracy, while some not so talented ones can fill the Big Dome (Araneta Coliseum in Cubao). At the same time my friends and I so enjoy those gigs, and we can never find that level of fun and musical high in a place as big as the Dome.

But anyway. Let’s cut through the chase, as my title already did, anyway. Cynthia Alexander is back, will be here until April, and going back to Seattle. So if I were you, I’d catch all the gigs i could, to see me through the next visit.