Even at rest he fidgets and stamps his feet lightly like an overactive child with a constant need for stimuli. This ADD however translates well onstage as he swings, sways and shrugs his way though drop-dead solos, shrieking blues and guitar leads that equally caress and jive. Watch for his leg kicks when he bends those strings.
At 31 years old, Nino, a mestizo with a feline gait, Smurf hair and soft features, has accomplished the Herculean task of not only getting new members and resurrecting his band the Blue Jean Junkies but also rehabilitating himself from rock and roll’s common pitfalls – especially heavy merrymaking. "I just got tired of partying around," he shrugs. "It was time to work again. This was three years ago."
Blue Jean Junkies started in 1999, bagging their first gig at the radio station NU107. Their music, which was heavily influenced by the likes of Robert Johnson, Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin and the Black Crowes made them stand out in the blues crowd. Their contemporaries like Bluesviminda, Lampano Alley, Majam and Mr. Crayon, with its remarkable axe-man Kakoi Legaspi (now with Salindiwa), held the other corners of the scene. But the Junkies were a head-long and headstrong force that quickly won over younger adherents into their fold.
When 2002 came along and they released their self-titled debut, they also won the radio station’s Best New Artist Award. By, 2003 however, they had splintered, with members migrating to the province or to the US, and some pursuing other fields of interest.
"But the Blue Jean Junkies never broke up," exclaims Nino. "We were just placed on automatic pilot. Life happened. I was busy having too much fun." Fun being an interval of three years, where Nino has fallen and risen on the wave of his own energies.
The new line-up with Chad Rialp on bass (also of Sound and Liquid Jane) and Bitoy Milan on drums (also of The Askals and Apologia) are as tight as atoms in congress, providing a groundwork of sound for guitars to cavort in. Unfortunately, guitarist Loren Orendin was not present the night of our interview. A sessionist filled in for him.
The point being: we don’t miss the harmonica that Nino used to tout on the previous line-up. "It’s really Nino’s band," says Chad. "He writes most of the material, we’re really here to just help him along."
Nino disagrees though, "They’re team mates. They have faith even when I have rainy days. With attitude like that it inspires me to take care of myself further. I’ve paid my dues. It’s amazing how I’m getting my rocks off with just music. As much as possible I’d like to be righteous. . .
"But not self-righteous," interjects Chad and Nino nods.
"Yes I’m Christian, I’ve been born again," articulates Nino, adding that this is not him fibbing, that the drugs really don’t work anymore on so many levels, that they’ve become sheer hindrances. "Music brought me back to being the best of Nino again. I’m not proud of the things I’ve done but I have no regrets."
That goes for the rest of the band, who can now be at ease with their camaraderie. Chad narrates that though their first gig had its share of slips and mistakes, what was really memorable was their first jam a few weeks previous. "We’re all pretty much seasoned musicians and the jam just went really well," he grins. "The first song was kabit agad. A sure sign of chemistry is being able to laugh out loud as a band. And we were joking around. We were a barkada right away."
"Everybody just has respect," claps Nino.
"I think it’s healthy to be a little insane," laughs Chad.
To be sure, the Blue Jean Junkies are all about righteous music. The new material is very progressive, "but I wouldn’t call it blues anymore" says Nino. With six new songs already made and two being performed regularly onstage with their old material, we can’t wait for the record to be finished.
Sure, Fine Company is about women and work and the stuff that makes up a good day, but there’s a definitive feel-good vibe and clean-living ethic underneath it. "Freeway Man" is your quintessential traveler’s anthem, filled with exuberant wanderlust and the romance of the open road. "You can’t keep a good man down" sings Nino and we’re pretty sure he’s talking about himself, telling us straight facts of how he’s done his time and come out with strength in hindsight.
There’s more confrontation here. More things you can do the rooster to without feeling stupid. Feel that positivity.
The main difficulty however is Nino’s approach to singing. There must be a smooth and warm voice behind Nino’s throaty wail, but we often don’t hear it. At least we don’t live. There’s too much vocal attitude and affectation in both "Freeway Man" and "Fine Company" that Nino often spits out the words, raspy and harsh to the ear.
I know this is the blues and passion in the Jaggeresque vein must be expressed to the utmost, but a little more singing and a little less screeching would do wonders. Aside from this, you can hear the blues and the good old rock and roll just dripping like a fount of honey. Bluesy, rollicking and full of life, the Blue Jean Junkies are doing their carpe diem for all of us to see.
"Our best gigs are still in front of us," says Chad and we’re all for believing.
