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The real score on posthumous records confuses me. There's a part of me saying that it is a ploy to quick-cash on the dead's work of art, yet I still believe on the idea of paying a tribute to a defiant artist who made a great contribution in the field of music. Regardless of whatever is chainsawed to the concept of posthumous records, I cannot deny the fact that I'm more marveled than disappointed listening to discovered treasures straight from the grave; those unreleased tracks, rarities, even reworked tracks – it all makes sense for music aficionados like me.
I'm not fond of Wolfmann and his tech-savvy chops for melding rock with electro-programmed beats, synthesizers, loops and samples. We've heard it all before with Moby and The Chemical Brothers, even with LCD Soundsystem, Postal Service and hundreds of aspirants in the scene. There's nothing new to his brand of electro-rock culinary; yet he made electronica, a cousin to that of rock music. Aside from inviting the who's who of rock to guest on his albums (Ebe Dancel of Sugarfree, Kathy Meneses of Daydream Cycle, Reg Rubio of Greyhoundz, Buddy Zabala of The Dawn/Eraserheads, Aia De Leon of Imago, Raymund Marasigan of Squid9/Sandwich to name a few) and dabbling on making remixes for several bands, Wolfmann armed his music jigsaw with socially relevant lyrics – an ironic measure from the genre of the elite and the social upper class. There must be suspicions on his sincerity, or at least on how he'll merit his piece with the right audience. Wilfred Hernandez or Wolfmann just shrugged it off, and remarkably produced two stunner electro-pop albums, Breaking the Beat Project and the concept sophomore Diner.
Wilfred Hernandez's works are purely mathematical: electronic music, rock, lyrics aiming to reflect our very social fiber, add them all and rewrite the misconceptions of electronic music being the 'music' for club-bangers or the rich hippies and presto! – a mutated hybrid for everybody to appreciate. If that's the case, then Wolfmann made a quite near antidote that conquers genre after genre, audience over audience, and pushes for the possibility of electronic music as a venue for protests and observations. But he died at a very early age not completely fulfilling his dreams for the genre here in the country amassed by socio-political problems. Yet, with the aid and persistence of his friends in the music scene, the tribute cum posthumous record, Wolfmann+ was born, at least to continue his legacy.
His stalwart contribution in the electronic scene is unparalleled; his lyrical visions, sounding melodramatic and serious at times are streaming torrentially on the tattered beats and modified sounds, while he let a spray of granular guitars and echoing synths ripple on the marvelous pouring…And for hungry, cold-blooded music enthusiasts like me, Wolfmann's techno-poet masterpiece is just so rightly mixed and served, proving that this posthumous record has really something special on it.
There are shorter but insightful themes on Wolfmann+ without partially and fully sacrificing the catchy, techno-wired hooks and the over all hybrid-feel. "Behind the Headlines" kicks off the chasing-of-a-car moments in the album. Its robotic textures, beguiling automated touches and complexity are just tip of the iceberg; its gist of rejecting news sensationalism is diminutive in lines but never undersized in its bold statements. Jumping to the now-eternal "Check, don't believe the headlines" is so much of a relief in today's ratings war-infested TV/radio programming. The Ebe Dancel sung "Dasal" is sincere techno-guitar experience, with anthemic rush splattered across the vein of the song, while "Driving school" and "Forgotten method" is surprisingly melting chaos of pop hooks, noise, speed and hyper-kinetic beats. "Kaizenizer" provides the sudden downer with the still robot-feel, only with doldrums and boredom to top it.
"Para" breaks the moods, boredom and the temperament as its coiffed balladry stepped off from the department of Ben Gibbard led-Postal Service to give us the slit-wrist drama of aching love and the sad figurative language of road trips. Wilfred knows how to embroider pain and unstitch it gracefully, in the most affecting way. He muses and gets lost in his own road signs, "Hindi ko man alam kung saan na pupunta / basta magmamaneho lang hanggang sa may pumara / Para! may naglalakad sa putik / Para! lumulutang na pag-ibig / Para! hindi na kaya pang kumapit / Para na, Oh ayoko ng umibig."
The second half is a bit obscure, if not just plain acerbic in its clinical framework on beats and hypnosis. Less funkier, more vague, abstract or I guess it sounds like boring music pieces severely mud on loose loops, drowning and ethereal vocals – makes for another challenging listen. "Recluse" tips off with the art rock vibe that's gasmasked into a techno-ambient ornament to further stretch the gloom and the atmospheric noise of the album's second phase. "Secret Army" on the other hand sounds like fiery house-pop, completely blasting on drum machines, sirens and grinding grooves. Stories of terror enrage "Shooting Mercury" with its wailing guitars, while "Taxes" although worthy of its endless questioning and musing, has dull rhythms that sound too offshore from the rest of the songs in the album.
Aside from the remixes of other electronica artists like Morse, Silverfilter, Squid 9, and Abdul Aziz, there are two standout tracks at the end post of the Wolfmann+ record, ditching off the obscure touches with rawness and simplicity. Kathy Meneses of Daydream Cycle offers her arresting, sugarcoated vocals on the "Voice," a dreamy-tinged pop number complete with spellbinding hooks and seductive aura to give off that lackadaisical sweetness well needed to comfort you on the breezy summer afternoon and chilling nights of somber and loneliness. To close the album with smiles, "Walk Slowly" nicely and gently makes sore melody without excess sappiness, just like a tribute full of hopes and happy memories. Ebe and the gang gamely sing, "I'd like to toast this bottle of beer for you, thank you," a line truly deserving for a man who not only contributed largely to the electronic music movement but also made us damn proud of his conviction and utmost sincerity in making great music.
