When Bullet went ‘slow’

Seated at the center of Route 196’s tiny stage, the singer-songwriter began tuning his guitar and in between this meticulous ceremony, he asked the few remaining people if they were already tired or if they were still OK.

It’s almost 3 a.m.

Perhaps, he meant to tell it to himself. He came from a long gig at a different venue also in Quezon City.

But regardless, he managed to give the intimate crowd a heartfelt show. He was a natural named Bullet Dumas.

He sings—and talks

Dumas told the few ones—around 20 or so of them—who waited for him that they can sit on the floor if they felt like it.

“Ako ang (mag)-cool down ng gabi ninyo (I will cool down your night),” said the closing act of “The Rest is Noise 14” live gig last September 10 at Route 196. It was staged by Vandals on the Wall, one of the leading producers in the local indie music scene today.

And then right after performing his first song “Ikaw,” he sought the comments of the audience if he came too loud for them. “Hindi ba crispy (ang tunog)?”

“Crisp!” someone from the crowd kindly corrected.

“Crispy. Masarap kasi e!” he answered heartily eliciting laughter from everyone.  That was just the first of many witty and funny adlibs thrown all throughout his performance.

He also explained each song, whether who it was written for, or why the lyrics were written as such. And that all that he played were different from the ones played at his earlier gig.

In another honest instance, the artist asked everyone if they had a pair of scissors. One of his tuning pegs was damaged from overuse that he wanted to just cut off the guitar string.

Obviously frustrated by the dilemma, Dumas kept apologizing despite noting, “Sabi nila, hindi daw dapat mag-sorry (ang artist) sa stage (They say, artists shouldn’t be saying sorry while on stage).

“Sorry.”

His avid listeners who regularly follow his gigs would know that this was the usual Dumas: an engaging kind of talkative.

He always had a way with words, which was even more evident in his songwriting.

Slow set

With a set of slow songs in mind for the gathering deep into the night, Dumas played a beautiful medley of three songs beginning with “Awit at Liriko,” a micro-song about pretty much what the title was.

The second titled “Pahinang Ito” was something personal for it was written for his late mother. He put on the shoe of a friend who saw her friend’s name in the obituary.

It was about loss but the requiem was nothing but tragic. He sang how one obituary can be ordinary to most but for that friend, the fonts were so beautiful. Just like the beautiful soul that was now lost.

“These songs usually take long to finish and oftentimes result in numerous versions before it is good to go. I tend to let the songs ‘ripen’ by themselves. I critique my work a lot that’s why my music writing takes a lot of time,” he expressed in an artist biography written by the Francis “Brew” Reyes, Filipino music legend.

In the same story, he admitted that “love—or the lack of it” was also a favorite theme in his songs. Just like that song where he hummed “La la la la” in the beginning only to be replaced by “Malala na” in the end.

Different folk

Google published articles about him online and many have likened him to some of the Philippines’ most distinguished folk artists namely Joey Ayala, Gary Granada, and Cynthia Alexander.

But Dumas’ folk was progressive and contemporary. In an article posted at manila.coconuts.co, his style was described to be filled with “nice guitar chops, unusual time measurements, different vocal phrasings, and random tunings.”

And although his set for The Rest is Noise 14 was described as slow, his unique sound—produced by only two machines: his vocal chords and acoustic guitar—still came through.

Even Coldplay’s “The Scientist” was stripped of its originality and became distinctly Dumas: raw.

This was even obvious in “Two Thirds Sensible,” which was erratic just like his other upbeat and fast songs. It was actually a deviation from the previously played songs because according to him, he could not remember playing his original choice.

“Nasira ‘yong slow set ko. Nagpapaka-Johnoy Danao pa naman ako (My slow set was ruined. Just when I’m trying to be Johnoy Danao)!”

(Danao is fellow acoustic artist and good friend of his. Together with Ebe Dancel, a mainstream singer-songwriter, the trio is collectively known as 3D.)

But he had to make do. It did not matter what song, no one complained.

Still the humbled performer, he looked everyone in the eye and said his thanks before firing away like speeding bullet. 

(Photos are mine and taken using Fujifilm X-E1)