OTHER THAN JIM PAREDES’ white hair, Danny Javier’s puffy eyes and Boboy Garrovillo’s paunch, nothing has changed to diminish the ageless quality of an APO Hiking Society concert. That is, even if the Las Vegas-style choreography and uniform costumes made the guys look stiff at times.

BOBOY Garrovillo, Danny Javier and Jim Paredes bid farewell with a bang. Photo by Dorrane Lim

But as the group winded down its series of farewell shows with a three-night stand at the Music Museum last weekend, the music brought not so much nostalgia, but a rediscovery of its finest elements.

The APO sound—which had been one of the hallmarks of ’70s and ’80s OPM—connected instantly with listeners because it brought a refreshing Pinoy sensibility while borrowing freely from Western sources.

Early in Thursday’s show, “Blue Jeans,” the theme from a 1981 Regal movie, didn’t lose its relevance while breezing through a ’50s rock ’n’ roll tempo, the lyrics echoing many a college kid’s frustration: “Pagkatapos ng iyong paghihirap/’Di ka rin makakahanap ng trabaho.”

Another song, “Panalangin,” fused spirituality and romantic desire with a gospel-R&B vibe, before letting loose in a jazzy vamp.

Perhaps the most brilliant of these musical marriages is “Lumang Tugtugin,” an engaging romp featuring Pinoy folk tunes dancing on a ska-reggae beat.

The gig, while tightly scripted, came off very spontaneous, a legendary APO trait—its propensity for irreverent, off-the-cuff humor. Garrovillo had one of the trio’s countless punch lines: “You’re paying so much money to see us go.”

The jokes, gags and spiels segued into sets of songs representing themes and chapters in APO’s four-decade career.

Javier, lead vocalist and writer of many APO hits, was in fine form, improvising with jazz phrases in “When I Met You,” and inviting empathy in “Tuyo Na’ng Damdamin”—
which he prefaced by talking a bit about his two failed marriages.

Though Paredes’ voice quivered and sounded flat on a few lines in his own composition, “Nakapagtataka,” there was much to admire in his energy and enthusiasm all night. His songwriting talent was highlighted in the poignant “Batang-Bata Ka Pa,” which he said he wrote for his eldest daughter.

Not to be outdone, Garrovillo, who often played the smart aleck during spiels, had his own song, “Paano,” given proper recognition by Javier.

Those who watched APO for the first time—recognizable because they were asked by the group to raise their hands—were delighted as the show ran for about three hours.

Mixed age group

Noticeable was the mixed age group of the crowd, signifying that APO’s music has cut across different generations—just as the band’s members that night comprised both veteran (drummer Boyet Pigao, bassist Colby de la Calzada) and relatively younger musicians (guitarist Noel Santiago, and keyboardists JV Villanueva and Ernie Baladiao).

It was a great night to experience, in an intimate setting, superior entertainment that bore insights on growing up, falling in love, and living life with a playful mind.

Just as we remembered friends who learned to play guitar from the easy chords of “Pumapatak Ang Ulan,” we realized that APO is an enduring youth symbol—the barkada who proved that Pinoy pop can be cool.

Three cheers for these guys who keenly captured hip language, whether about loving a two-timer (“Tumawag ka mamaya nandito’ng syota ko …”) or making love without the mush (“Kung gusto mo ay magsigarilyo muna …”).

The show may be over, but the songs will always keep us company.