Johnoy Danao finds it hard to hold a mirror up to himself.
Two weeks before his landmark 25th anniversary concert “Liwayway at Dapithapon,” I ask the singer-songwriter what’s something — after all this time — he’d like people to know about him. First, he sets the record straight: He’s not suplado. “Hindi lang kasi talaga ako people person, but ‘pag nakilala ko na ‘yong tao, I think they’ll find a friend,” he says. But when asked to describe himself, he answers with a tinge of regret, “I really don’t know man, sorry.”
Danao claims he’s not the introspective type, at least when it comes to talking about himself. Much more to take stock of a monumental 25 years in the business as a musician (including five years fronting the pop-rock band Bridge) which, for him, has not exactly sunk in. As someone who used to book shows almost on the daily, he thinks the years have caught up. “Game sa lahat ng gigs gusto kong tugtugan,” he said of his younger years. While these have been paying gigs, for him, the money is the only part that makes it feel like an obligation. “I still enjoy playing. I still enjoy songwriting,” he says. “So, tingnan natin kung meron pa akong natitirang 20 plus years.”
Being a self-avowed “one-day-at-a-time guy,” neither the distant past nor tomorrow occupies significant real estate in Danao’s mind. So, while approaching the milestone, he admits he hasn’t made any big plans. This includes his first-ever headlining show.
“Hindi naman ako ‘yong tipo na, ‘Tara, next year, gawa tayo ng concert,’” says Danao, as one who’s at home in the local gig circuit’s more intimate settings. But the solo show is finally coming to fruition, spurred by a rare offer from a friend and producer, Jason Conanan of Minsan Studio. “Bakit hindi? I think I’ve been sort of rehearsing for this for the past 20 years,” he says, punctuated by the usual enthusiasm that propelled his younger self: “I’m game!”
Personally lang, I think we should step away from calling our music “OPM” … Para sa akin, parang nahihinder pa na tinatawag natin OPM, kasi parang nagkakaroon ng boundary or something. So, pwede tayong mamayagpag sa ibang bansa, sa mundo.
On March 14 and 15, the quintessential Pinoy troubadour is taking the stage at a Manila art deco jewel, the Metropolitan Theater, with his tearjerking classics adapted for a 15-piece orchestra by the sought-after composer and arranger, Ria Villena Osorio. “Kung nakakaiyak ang song, mas lalo niyang na-a-accentuate ‘yong emotion ng kanta,” he teases.
The concert is his way of expressing his gratitude for those who stuck by him throughout the years. “I want them to feel na this is not for me, sa totoo [lang],” he says. He also hopes newer listeners get acquainted with the rest of his catalog beyond “Ikaw at Ako,” the runaway hit from his 2010 solo album, Dapithapon. After all, that evergreen serenade has already enjoyed a lot of airtime at countless weddings and on TikTok. It’s as if to say, in case you missed it, he has an extensive catalog featuring gems such as Samu’t-Sari (2014), Salubungan (2016), and remarkable collaborations with the likes of Clara Benin, Gabba, crwn, Project Yazz, not to mention the trio 3D with Ebe Dancel and Bullet Dumas.
“They’ve seen me sing sort of naked, may acoustic guitar [lang], ‘di ba? So, ‘yong mga elements na hindi pa nila naririnig, ’yon ‘yong parang regalo ko sa kanila na, ’O, ito, baka mas maramdaman mo ‘yong ’Ikaw at Ako’ [o] ‘yong ’Dapithapon’ na merong orchestra.’”
In this interview, we go in-depth about his career during the past quarter of a century, and back to his roots as an Eraserheads fan at the University of the Philippines (UP) Diliman. We talk about the stories that make up his songs and why “songs are everywhere.” He also goes on record about what has kept him going all these 25 years, unwittingly holding that mirror up to himself.
This interview has been edited for clarity and brevity.
Do you remember the first song you ever wrote?
I [first] dabbled in songwriting when I was in high school, noong narinig ko ‘yong Eraserheads. Noong narinig ko ‘yong “Pare Ko,” I was sort of in a relationship, and sinubukan kong sumulat ng kanta pero hindi naman natapos.
After marinig ko ‘yong Eraserheads, the goal was — in my head — to enter UP, makapasa sa UPCAT [UP College Admission Test], and then mapanood ang Eraserheads nang live. And little did I know na ang dami palang bands talaga na sa UP nanggaling like Yano, Eraserheads. Doon ko naisip na kailangan kong bumuo ng banda.
Pero ‘yong natapos talaga na kanta ay with my band Bridge na when I was in UP. Mga taga-Narra [Residence Hall] ‘yong kasama ko doon, lahat taga-UP.
The first song I finished was called “Imagine.” The story was doon lang ako sa classroom, thinking about this girl who I really liked.
How about your first-ever show with your band Bridge?
I still remember the place kasi it was just a small cafe. ‘yong mga friends ko lang ‘yong pumunta. We distributed flyers sa Diliman. Mga 1998 to 1999 siguro ‘yon. Actually, acoustic set lang muna kami noong kasama ko: ‘yong guitar player ko, ‘yong pinsan ko. Kasama ko siya sa dorm.
When you look back on that show, does that version of Johnoy seem like a total stranger now?
Actually, no, kasi it was an acoustic show. Ngayon, solo na ako, [but] for the past three years, I’ve been doing cafe shows. Parang bumalik ako doon sa spot na ’yon, sa totoo lang.
Siyempre ‘pag bata ka, ‘pag gusto mong mag-rock out, ‘yong mga pinapakinggan mo noong ‘90s ay mga alternative bands. So, lahat ng mga songs, gusto kong sumigaw, gusto kong matataas lahat ng mga key, alam mo ‘yong gano’n. Pinipilit kong abutin ‘yong mga key na hindi naman ako kumportable. May kasama kasing gigil sa pagkakaroon ng first band mo. Pero noong tumanda na ako, na-realize ko na pinapakinggan ko pala noong high school ay ‘yong mga acoustic singers: James Taylor, America.
Do you remember when you made the decision to make a full-time career out of music?
The decision was made in high school pa lang. Gusto kong magsulat ng kanta at mag-perform. Kung ano man ang ibigay sa akin nito — as a career or whatever — ito na ‘yong gusto kong gawin. Hindi ko siya matawag kasi na trabaho talaga e kasi I really enjoy it. Kahit na may mga times na, “Wow, ang hirap nito a.” Wala masyadong pumupunta sa show mo, tapos ‘yong mga kanta mo — wala pa namang Spotify — relatively known lang. Parang slow burn ‘yong nangyari sa career ko e.
Tingnan mo, ngayon lang ako nagkaroon ng first solo concert after 20 plus years. I think okay lang naman ‘yon kasi I think ‘yong success ay ‘yong kanta mo maging parang mega hit talaga. At a certain point, natanggap ko na ‘yon. So, ‘yong mga kanta ko ngayon, sa totoo lang, parang ngayon lang narinig ng marami e kahit na 20 or 10 years ago na siyang na-release. That’s because of social media like TikTok. Kung saan-saan ginagamit ‘yong mga kanta ko: for weddings, for their videos, for their posts. Okay lang sa akin ’yon.
How have you been gearing up for the show? I heard you’ve been rehearsing every day.
Every day, as in, paggising sa umaga after I walk my dog, I just grab my guitar and just sing some songs na kasama sa set. I’m thinking, what should I do with this song na it’ll be fresh sa akin and sa mga taong sumusuporta sa akin. Kasi I think karamihan ng manonood ay talagang nakikinig sa akin talaga, from [the] start until now.
So, iniisipan ko ng mga arrangement. Iniisipan namin ng banda ko na tututog — Project Yazz and the orchestra — [on] how would it sound, how we would make it a little bit fresher sa ears ng mga makikinig. Araw-araw, maybe a verse here, a chorus here. Old songs, new songs.
I understand medyo crunch time na, but have you been unwinding at all? Do you ever take a break and listen to other people’s music?
These days, nakikinig ako kay Zild kasi naging paborito ko siya noong pandemic.
Na-i-inspire ako sa new artists, kasi they bring ibang dimensions sa OPM. When we say OPM kasi parang may certain character kasi ‘yong OPM na parang love songs, alam mo ‘yon? Like, APO Hiking Society, Ryan Cayabyab-type songs. Pero ngayon, it’s alive, man. [Kung ikukumpara sa] ‘90s, iba na ‘yong tunog niya sa ngayon.
Personally lang, I think we should step away from calling our music “OPM.” Pakiramdam ko lang ‘yan. Kasi, it’s global na e. I mean, what’s Original Pilipino Music? What is it really? Kaya natutuwa ako sa mga [new] artists. I recently read si Zack Tabudlo signed with a major label sa States. So, let’s go there. Why not? Kasi ang galing naman ng mga musicians, artists talaga natin. Minsan, para sa akin, parang nahihinder pa na tinatawag natin OPM, kasi parang nagkakaroon ng boundary or something. So, pwede tayong mamayagpag sa ibang bansa, sa mundo.
For example, K-pop. Wala tayong naiintindihan pero we enjoy a lot of their songs. So, huwag natin i-limit ang sarili natin na magsulat ng English para lang maintindihan ng buong mundo.
Ang naging mindset ko ay dapat ‘pag nagsulat ako ng kanta, ‘pag pinakinggan ng ibang tao, kahit ‘di nila ako kilala, dapat parang ‘pag nagkita kami, parang magkaibigan na kami.
While arranging the setlist, are there songs that you feel you should’ve done differently in hindsight?
Oh yes, definitely. Personal kasi sa akin ‘yong mga songs ko. Actually, ‘yong [mga] recording, para sa akin, moments lang ‘yan e. Kung ano ‘yong nararamdaman mo noong time na ’yan, ’yon na ’yon. But the good thing about my old songs ay hindi siya masyadong nailabas. I mean, siguro ‘yong talagang nakikinig lang sa akin ang may alam sa songs na ’yon, so I can rearrange it. Sa ngayon, naririnig ko na siya na, “Uy, maybe I can put a different instrument here. Maybe I can change a melody. Maybe I can change a lyric.”
Definitely, in hindsight, meron akong mga songs na, “A, dapat ito ‘yong ginawa ko.” When you perform it live naman, you can change anything. It’s a different ballgame.
Would you say na retrospective ang “Liwayway at Dapithapon,” or something a little more than that?
It’s more of a pasasalamat to people who really supported me through the years.
And parang iba na rin kasi ‘yong audience. It’s [wider]. Dahil sa social media, I’m sort of reintroducing myself to the newer audience through this concert. Reintroducing my style of singing, my music. Kasi ngayon lang ako naka-experience ng a little bit of — hindi ko naman matatawag na fame — but alam mo ‘yong naglalakad ako minsan sa kalsada, tapos mayroong makaka-recognize sa’yo na super stranger.
Your music has this innately intimate quality to it, and you’ve been playing a lot of these intimate sort of shows for years. But I’m sure that you’re also no stranger to big crowds — mapa-Music Museum, mapa-Mall of Asia Arena. Minsan sa literal na gitna ng kalsada, as I’ve seen you play sa Paseo de Roxas, sa Ayala Triangle. Sa weddings pa, na sure hit ‘yong “Ikaw at Ako.” How do you go about this, adjusting the energy to different crowds?
Ang pinakapaborito ko ay [when] they’re close to me. Kahit na marami sila. Kasi sa festivals, the stage is so far from the people. Sometimes, they just sing. Hindi mo na alam kung they’re really enjoying it or they’re just listening to you and [maybe] they’d shout for a while. Pero ‘yong adjustment na nangyayari ay sa reaction na nakikita ko sa crowd.
Ang palagi kong gustong mga show ay ‘yong parang halos kitang-kita ko sila kasi I can talk to them literally like, “Hoy, kumusta ka? Parang malungkot ‘yong mukha mo ngayon.” Minsan may nakikita akong umiiyak sa harap. Sort of reactive akong tao [yata] when it comes to performing.
Although siyempre, sometimes you just have to be professional. Parang dead ‘yong mga tao. Tapos ikaw, sige, go ka lang. You do your best. Kasi hindi naman lahat ng tao kilala ka, ‘di ba? You just enjoy on stage.
Pero ‘yong pinakagusto ko talaga ‘yong sinasabi mo na minsan nasa kalsada lang ako. Tapos, just surrounding me na parang gusto lang nila makinig sa akin. Minsan nga, gusto ko pa ‘yong tahimik lang talaga ‘yong mga tao kasi nakikita ko and mas nararamdaman ko sila.
Working with different artists with diverse backgrounds — from the orchestra to all your collaborations — do you ever miss being in a band or writing for a group?
I miss it because ‘yong elements ng isang kanta ay magbabago ‘pag banda ‘yong kumakanta. Na-cha-challenge ka rin. You have to be on time sa pagtugtog. May sinusundan ka na certain sort of rules ng banda. Mayroon siyang dynamics na batuhan niyo ng licks, ng tunog ng gitara. It adds to the fun of it. ‘Pag solo naman ako, ang sixth man ko ay ‘yong crowd.
‘Pag banda, parang sa buhay, parang support system mo musically [sila]. Kaya dapat in harmony kayo, nasa tono kayo lahat, pero ‘pag mag-isa ka lang, sa crowd ka ngayon hihingi ng feel, tempo, pakiramdam, ng lahat…
On the other hand, gusto ko rin ‘yong sort of stillness ng ‘pag mag-isa lang ako. Kasi I can slow a song down. Pwede ko siyang bilisan. Sa banda kasi, ‘pag meron na kayong tempo, medyo talagang kailangan nandoon kayo lahat sa tempo na ‘yan. Nakakamiss din pero pareho silang fun sa akin.
With Project Yazz, ‘pag naririnig ko na sa rehearsal, parang na-te-tempt ako na magsulat for a band talaga. Although ‘pag nagsusulat ako, siyempre, sinusulat ko siya on an acoustic guitar first. Pero para lang sa akin ‘yon, kasi gusto kong parang buo na dapat ‘yong kanta kahit na acoustic guitar lang ‘yong instrumento.
For example, this new song I wrote, “Magkasama,” it’s for a couple na magpapakasal. Nagpasulat siya ng kanta para sa mapapangasawa niya. Tapos sinulat ko siya sa acoustic guitar pero ini-imagine ko siya na dapat full band talaga. Project Yazz ‘yong naging banda for this.
Speaking of bands, as you’ve mentioned earlier and as it’s been well-documented, Ultraelectromagneticpop! kind of launched you into this career. How has that album been formative for you, or how has it guided you all these years?
Lahat ng kanta ng Eraserheads at that time, parang I’m looking at myself in the mirror. Lahat ng feelings na nararamdaman ko at that time: being in love, heartbroken. Tapos mayroon pa siyang, “[Tatlong] oras na akong nagpapacute sa’yo, ‘di mo man lang napapansin ang bagong T-shirt ko.” It’s simple yet parang totoong-totoo talaga sa nararamdaman ko that time. So, sabi ko, ganito ang gusto kong maging pathway ko sa pagiging songwriter. Dapat totoo ‘yong isusulat ko, kaya lahat ng mga kanta ko ay puro life experiences, kung paano ko siya naramdaman.
Ang naging mindset ko ay dapat ‘pag nagsulat ako ng kanta, ‘pag pinakinggan ng ibang tao, kahit ‘di nila ako kilala, dapat parang ‘pag nagkita kami, parang magkaibigan na kami. Gano’n ‘yong pakiramdam ko sa Eraserheads. Like, “Pare Ko,” para siyang nakikipag-usap sa akin.
Dapat ‘yong mga songs ko, not really katulad ng style ng Eraserheads, but kailangan mag-re-reflect sa buhay ng bawat Pilipino. Paano sila magmahal? Kung paano silang makibaka, kung paano silang mabuhay.
How do you think you were able to sustain that passion that was ignited back then?
This is what I’m good at, maybe. ‘yong confidence level at a certain point ay enough, but not too much. This is what I really want to do, and na-realize ko na I’m sort of good at it.
There’s this one time sa show may lumapit sa akin, a high school kid: “Sir, alam mo noong pandemic, maraming salamat talaga sa mga kanta mo kasi palagi kong pinapakinggan ‘yon ‘pag mag-isa lang ako sa bahay kasi ‘yong tatay at nanay ko hindi makauwi noon.” Tapos niyakap niya ako. I think doon ko rin naisip na parang na-achieve ko nang kahit papaano ‘yong gusto ko about my song.
Kung makasulat pa ako ng mga kanta na can help others go through anything, why not?
But has your attitude toward writing music changed at all? Does it ever get hard?
Of course, it gets hard kasi there’s this thing they call writer’s block. Nangyayari naman ‘yon.
But somehow, parang meron na akong personal technique ‘pag hindi ako nakakatapos ng kanta, iniiwan ko muna. Babalikan ko siya after maybe an hour, or maybe days. Tapos mabubuo ko [na] siya.
Pero meron din mga kanta [that] sort of write themselves. Like, naisip mo ‘yong idea, parang may avalanche ng emotions, ideas, inspiration. Matatapos mo within an hour. Pero ‘yong songwriting sa akin, hindi ko fino-force ‘yong something na that’s not there yet. Minsan parang kailangan mo [lang] siyang pahinugin.
Ang hirap sabihin na mahirap magsulat e, lalo na ngayon na pwede mong i-release ‘yong kanta anytime. Hindi rin naman ako tied up to a contract na I should finish an album or something within three years or a year. So, hindi ako masyadong nag-dwe-dwell kung hindi ako makasulat agad ng kanta. Hindi siya parang trabaho, trabaho, trabaho.
‘Yong songwriting sa akin, somehow dapat talaga naranasan ko or naapektuhan ako ng istorya para gumawa ako ng kanta about it. Saka lang ako may courage na magsulat about it.
Which songs have been the easiest and hardest to write?
“Ikaw at Ako.” Kaya na-realize ko rin na maybe ‘yong mga songs na mabilis kong nasulat — nobody’s perfect — but ‘yon ‘yong perfect na song na nasulat ko. Kasi wala masyadong editing. Kung ano ‘yong lumabas, maybe 90 percent, ‘yon na siya. Hindi ko siya masyadong ginalaw from its original. Minsan kasi ‘pag masyado mo siyang pinag-iisipan, mas nagugulo pa ‘yong idea.
‘Yong pinakamahirap na kanta na sinulat ko, probably “Dapithapon.” Sa first album, it was an acoustic version. Second album, ginawa kong full band. At that time gusto ko siyang maging positive song talaga. That song, para sa mga tao, ay sobrang lungkot. ‘Yong last line siguro ‘yong pinakamatagal kong naisulat kasi paano ko gagawin positive ‘yong kanta na ‘to na about a breakup?
Siguro inabot ako nang maybe six months na paulit-ulit na sulat tapos, “Ay, pangit.” Papalit-palit. Nagkaroon ng conflict within me na on [one] side, malungkot ako, pero on the other side of my head, “I think that’s fine if it’s not working out.”
I remember you used to drive an Uber around 10 years ago, and I wonder if in that kind of environment, as you interacted with different people, you heard stories that somehow made it into a song? Basically: Do you ever find yourself “researching” for a song?
Medyo weird sa akin ‘yong experience na naririnig ko ‘yong conversations ng ibang tao, na parang wala ka. Noong time na ‘yon na nagda-drive ako, ang mindset ko [ay] mind your own business talaga. Hindi rin ako makwento sa hindi ko kakilala talaga. May mga nag-aaway sa phone, may pinag-uusapan na medyo mabigat. Doon ko lang na-realize na songs are everywhere.
Hindi ako masyado talagang parang “researching” na I’m looking out for songs palagi. Siguro isusulat ko lang ‘yon ‘pag naramdaman ko rin ‘yong feeling na ‘yon. Maybe, ‘pag meron lang ako narinig na story, or mayroon akong nakita sa kalsada na somehow naapektuhan ako. Doon ko lang siya i-a-attempt na susulatan.
For example, last presidential elections, talagang gusto ko talagang manalo ang totoong public servant like Leni [Robredo]. Kailangang makakatulong ako manalo ‘yong isang kandidato kasi alam kong naniniwala talaga ako sa kanya. Kaya gumawa ako ng kanta [“Kulay Rosas ang Bukas, Anak!” and “Hangga’t Hindi Pa Huli ang Lahat”].
‘Yong songwriting sa akin, somehow dapat talaga naranasan ko or naapektuhan ako ng istorya para gumawa ako ng kanta about it. Saka lang ako may courage na magsulat about it. Parang hindi ako masyadong fiction writer na out of my imagination lang. Although siyempre mayroon din ‘yong may konting imagination.
A lot of your songs, personal ang pinaghuhugutan. For example, “Ang Panata,” which was, of course, your wedding vow. When you put these songs out in the world, they kind of become everyone’s property, so to speak. Parang naging parte ka ng soundtrack ng buhay nila. I’m curious about your thoughts on this.
Magmula pa noong [nasa] Bridge [ako], sinabi ko na ‘yan sa mga kabanda ko na, “Bro, ‘pag sumikat ‘yong kanta mo or kung narinig na ng iba ‘yan, somehow, magbabago na ang ibig sabihin niyan.” Nagiging property na ‘yan ng ibang tao ‘pag pinakinggan [nila]. Not really [like] intellectual property, [but] ‘yong kung paano sila makakaramdam.
So, “Dapithapon,” for example, malungkot siyang kanta para sa iba. Pero sa akin, it’s a hopeful song. So, kung paano tinanggap ng mga tao ‘yong kanta mo, parang somehow nagiging kanta na rin nila ‘yon. Iba-iba naman tayo ng experience sa buhay.
‘Yong “Ang Panata” [naman]. Kung magkapareho kami ng sasabihin sa partner niya, why not? Kung gusto niya, gamitin niya. The goal is you tell your partner na, “This is my vow for you.” May mga iba kasing tao na hindi nila alam kung paano sabihin ‘yong mga bagay-bagay. I think, doon din pumapasok ‘yong role ng mga songwriters.
What fuels you to keep on making music?
These days, ‘yong wife ko talaga ‘yong masasabi ko na kaya ko gusto ipagpatuloy ‘yong paggawa ng music. Because being alone in this world is lonely, really. Mahirap siyang gawin. So, I’m very, very lucky and grateful na nahanap ko siya. ‘Yong makakasama ko hanggang sa mawala na ako dito. Siya na talaga.
Maybe another one would be our dog.
Let’s wax a little philosophical. Sabi mo sa isang interview, “Writing the song, music in itself is the reward.” How essential is writing music to your life? How has it made living worthwhile?
Well, let’s start with the obvious. It gave me money.
Ang reward na hindi nakikita ng mga tao, ‘yong kung paano niya rin ako natutulungan, as a human being, to cope with something na I’m feeling. To help myself get through anxious moments in my life. Parang sobrang cliché na sinasabi nila na therapeutic ‘yong mga gano’n, but it really is.
Pero personally, ako din, sinusulat ko siya to help myself get through something. That’s why, siguro, nag-re-resonate [siya] doon sa mga nakikinig. I’m not sure kung how that works, but kumbaga, kung ano ‘yong nararamdaman ko at that certain moment, gusto kong sabihin [‘yon] sa inyo. Humihingi ako ng tulong somehow.
I want to talk to people. Pero, ang problema sa akin, introvert ako. But I think somehow [sa] mga songs ko, meron akong gustong kausap.
Tapos, ‘pag nailabas mo na siya, ‘pag naririnig mo na ‘yong finished product, there’s this sort of relief na, I [may have] told the world about what I’m feeling. Kaya nga sobrang rewarding talaga sa akin na parang bumabalik ‘yong mga kanta ko sa akin. “Sir, ginamit namin ‘yong kanta mo sa wedding namin.” As in maybe thousands of weddings. ‘Yong music talaga [ang] reward sa akin, na I created something to connect with people.
