Been feeling my age lately. Everyone out in the streets is much younger than me by decades. I can’t even relate to the young’s music these days. What’s BINI, BTS, Blackpink? My nieces roll their eyes when I rhapsodize about the Beatles.  

“Better get on the groove hey, hey,” my fashionably attired, dirty-old-mannish, 60-something lawyer-neighbor tells me. “Ditch the bubblegum, the young angst mooning and get with the supermax streetwise goon energy of RAGE Coalition.”

But isn’t that the political alliance he helped launch at Club Filipino to back Vice President Sara Duterte for President in 2028?

“Why does everything have to be politics with you? RAGE Coalition is a hardcore punk rock band. The Filipino version of Black Flag, Bad Brains and MDC (Millions of Dead Cops). In fact, it can be considered a more extreme subgenre of punk called thug rock.” 

My neighbor says RAGE Coalition, or Revenge Against our Governmental Enemies, will awaken my inner drug lord and boost my flagging testosterone “to 11.”

I am breathlessly introduced to RAGE Coalition front-man Bustah D, who’s tattooed up to his neck and chews gum even in his sleep. Apparently, his band is about to drop a horrifying album called We Only Want His Head, “which will burn down Spotify, I promise you.”  

The lead single is a mashup of Psycho Phants’ Lick It Lick It and Death Squad’s Knock Knock We’re  Here. But, I ask Bustah, doesn’t We Only Want His Head suspiciously sound like a death threat? 

“Who said anything about the President?!” he scowled. “You lolos don’t get our vibe. Can’t you see we’re really angry. My tattoos say I’m very angry, my face says I’m always angry, that’s why we’re RAGE!” he chomps away, raising his fist.

Angry messages

Angry as he is, Bustah obliges by explaining the messages in their debut album’s roster, soon to be released by Diehard Music based in Davao City. 

Because You’re All Stupid, he says, “is for people who still believe honesty is a necessary qualification for politicians. Which is really stupid, according to my sister.”

Die of Colon Cancer Cokehead is a toxic wish for a hated nemesis. “Jumping Jacks Fool,” he says, “calls out the betraying bastard’s fake-ass attempt to appear healthy even though he’s dying already.” 

With Kiss My Fist, Bustah shamelessly expresses a desire to “beat up a do-gooding monkey” although he’s not challenging anyone to a boxing match, “Let’s make that clear.”

The furious Bring Daddy Home Nowcondemns an alien abduction by an Unauthorized Foreign Organization. Bitches Don’t Piss on My Papaorders Tatay Digong’s OFW supporters in The Hague to be careful when storing his cardboard likeness in a Porta Potty.

I’ll Stab You Pimp delivers a brutal knife-edge warning by Bustah’s bro Polo D., evoking smoky barroom tensions over a lady of the night. He also covers The Urinals anthem Smells Like Commission on Audit Spirit.

Bagman Confidential is a raucous thug tutorial on laundering and doling out pilfered millions to friends and connections–an unapologetic paean to the lumpen lifestyle of the rich and dynastic.

Oi My Shabu gives mumbled thanks to Customs officials who released a shipment of drugs smuggled in magnetic lifters to a presidential in-law. Likewise, Covid Rhapsody rapturously hails the pandemic-era administration’s curious purchase of vaccines from an undercapitalized fly-by-night firm.

Don’t Go to the Bloodbath Sara (F**k the Hearings) is a surprisingly tender take–in a thug kind of way–on Plan B’s alt-punk Because You Don’t Control Your Life.

Finally, I Want to Kill You (No Joke) has a blood-curdling cameo refrain by Bustah’s sister who goes by the edgy stage name Fiona Flashing Eyes.

Gunning for 2028

“This rock band will surely fire up the imagination of the rebellious young who are now more than 40 percent of registered voters. Not to mention wannabe cronies, washed up movie actors and hired trolls who will be on our bandwagon for VP Inday Sara’s 2028 presidential campaign,” beams my neighbor.

Wait, wait, wait a minute! I thought the Club Filipino event launched a new rock band? Why is he now talking about Sara Duterte’s electoral bid?

“Who says punk rockers with anger issues can’t morph and lead an electoral alliance? Don’t you realize punk is a political phenomenon? Where have you been all this time? Still tripping-the-light-fantastic to Elvis?”

Ohh, okaay. I stand humbly chastised and updated. 

“By the way, ‘pare, being a journalist can you suggest a more palatable name when our alliance shifts to election mode? ‘RAGE Coalition-Revenge Against Our Governmental Enemies’ might seem like a one-issue campaign agenda.”

Then make it RAGE-Reform Alliance for Good Governance and Accountability, I suggest. That’s respectable, glossy even.

“Good one. Thanks. Oh, but ‘Reform Alliance for Good Governance and Accountability’ reads RAGGA. Our preferred iconic acronym R-A-G-E would be a misspelling.”

Never mind, I tell him. His alliance members wouldn’t spot the error if their lives depended on it. – Rappler.com

Rene Ciria Cruz is an editor at PositivelyFilipino.com. He edited the book A Time to Rise: Collective Memoirs of the Union of Democratic Filipinos (KDP), (UP Press), and was Inquirer.net’s US Bureau Chief 2013-2023. He has written for the San Francisco Examiner, San Francisco Chronicle, Pacific News Service, and California Lawyer Magazine.