Sahlee Quizon “Good Morning Starshine” 7” EP (1971)
Just got this in the mail via eBay. On my quest to find Quizon records.
Sahlee’s sugary pop cover of the Oliver smash hit which was itself a pop version of the feel good song from the musical Hair. Sahlee is legendary actor Dolphy Quizon’s eldest daughter and although “Starshine” made her a one hit wonder, she went on to act in several motion pictures and television shows in the Philippines.
Really amazing how one scene can encapsulate an entire film and make a mostly unimpressive yet entertaining piece into something more modestly profound.
For about one and half years of my early teens, I was a hesher. It was a phase, admittedly. I wore Ozzy and Crue tour shirts to shows I never went to. I listened to Scorpions after they went commercial. I wore a pair of pleather pants once. Once. I owned the first two Motley Crue records, but I also owned Twister Sister and Quite Riot. All this while sneaking back home and listening to my Men at Work and Michael Jackson records. Not hardcore. At all. I did own THE NUMBER OF THE BEAST. Out of all my records, that was one that I was afraid to even own. I usually only listened to it with friends. There was a mystery to Iron Maiden that the other bands didn’t have. I tucked my LP between more innocuous fare such as Def Leppard and Van Halen so my mom wouldn’t see it. Part of their appeal really. The allure of having something you’re not suppose to have, like a Maiden record or red parachute pants. I mean they referenced Huxley and Burns along with all those satanic allusions. Only now do I understand how unique and original a sound they had.
Documentarians Sam Dunn and Scot McFadyen, along with crew, follow the heavy metal stalwarts as they embark on one of the most challenging tours of their storied career, 20 plus years since they reached their commercial apex. 50,000 miles, 5 continents, 23 concerts, 24 days. This is not some retrospective tour like other veteran acts have put together or market ready “reunion” tour, this tour, as front man Bruce Dickinson so vehemently states in the film, is for the new fans. 30 years together, Iron Maiden, while still keeping a sense of virtual anonymity for a band that can fill up an arena in basically any part of the world, is a fan’s band. Regardless of scarce radio play or publicity, the band has a cross generational following that is unmatched. They accomplish this by a workman like approach to their music and live shows while putting the emphasis on the music and their throngs of fans. This tour is like, as Dickinson said, a big Christmas present for all the young fans that wasn’t around during their iconic 80’s tours.
Since the filmmakers are fanboys of the band (they admit so at the beginning), there is little in depth analysis or gossip mongering in this film. Just admiration. It is not without insight however. We are privy to a set of older rock stars that are not going through the motions by any means. These guys are in their 50’s but they put on a live show like teenagers (with an occasional break for a few rounds of golf or a bit of souvenir shopping at local tourist attractions). There doesn’t appear to be much drama (see the Metallica doc SOME KIND OF MONSTER) as these blokes seem to be an amiable easy going bunch.
What is amazing is how the band is received wherever they go. Their hardcore fans worship at their alter. One quite literally, as he is a pastor for a church that preaches the word of the Maiden in Brazil, complete with over 100 Maiden tattoos on his body.
The one defining moment for me is the concert in Costa Rica. A country they have never toured before. Interviews of the fans waiting for the concert proclaim that this may very well be the most important moment of their lives. For a rocker in the region, there is nowhere else they should be. Living in “the armpit” of the world, claims one fan, this is big deal. They came from different countries, some even quit their jobs to make it. They’re serious. They’re not a mob of teenage girls at a Jonas Brothers show. They didn’t just listened to THE NUMBER OF THE BEAST or PIECE OF MIND they took shelter under its mid-evil cloak, the near symphonic guitars and drums providing protection from an unkind world. Most of all they lived with it from pre-teen to adulthood to parenthood. The scene that got to me is after the concert ends, the mayhem subsides and people file out. The camera catches one man, gaunt, bearded and grasping what could be Nicko McBrain’s drumstick possibly tossed from the stage and into the hands of this gentleman. He is breathless and begins to cry, occasionally wiping his face of tears with his trembling hand. Nothing to hang on to but that drumstick and he clings to it like a handrail on a speeding train. The camera lingers and the sound dissipates.
The scene is shot respectfully and with affection for the fans and it perfectly portrays the bond Iron Maiden has created with their fans. But, most importantly, it’s another reminder of how music, more than any other art form, can connect on a deep personal level with the listener. Music can quite literally lift you and guide you through the harshest moments of your life and you can do so intimately. Tom Morello of Rage Against the Machine in the film talks about how he wore out THE NUMBER OF THE BEAST and would listen to it all day. When he came home, he would go in his room, put on his headphones and listen to it again. As much as I love THE BICYCLE THIEF, I probably couldn’t watch it while commuting to work or while roaming the corridors of the university. But the Geraldine Fibbers on the Walkman got me through a rotten college experience and in 2010 I can crank up “The Children of the Dammed” from BEAST on my iPod and suddenly whatever crap will happen that day I will be protected.
