"I recently caught his show at Kiko's one Thursday, took some photos, and was summarily blown away. the hottest gun in town is in his 50's and can still plow them down with his axe"

 JIM AYSON (head honcho of Philmusic.com)

Who hasn’t heard of the Juan de la Cruz Band? Remember the song

 

Himig Natin? Perhaps the most influential local rock group ever, the JDLC

became the progenitor of the Pinoy Rock revolution during the ’70s,

blazing the trail for a generation of rock legends like Sampaguita,

Resty Fabunan (of Maria Cafra fame) and the late great progressive

drummer Edmund "Bosyo" Fortuno (of Anakbayan).

 

If there’s any one question that’s been bugging a lot of devout Juan de

la Cruz Band fans all these years, it could very well be: "Where the

hell is Wally Gonzales?"

 

After all, former lead singer and drummer Joey "Pepe" Smith – a rock and

roll legend in more ways than one – and former bass player Mike Hanopol

(of ‘jeproks’ fame) have all had their share of the spotlight at one

time or another.

 

Among the three, Wally has always been tagged as "the quiet Juan de la

Cruz" devoid of the typically flamboyant lifestyle, manic fits and

eccentric quirks of his bandmates. With the band’s breakup during the

mid-’80s, Pepe eventually became the iconic godfather of Pinoy Rock,

while Mike switched to guitar and became a household name himself via

his hit Laki sa Layaw, Jeproks.

 

Not to be outdone, long, tall Wally further refined his bluesy wailings

in a predominantly instrumental album which spawned his classic anthem,

Wally’s Blues – a dark, brooding ballad oozing with Marshallesque

distortion and Echoplex-laden riffs.

 

But that was about the last that the public heard of him.

 

From 1986 to 1998, a Wally Gonzales gig became as rare as an Elvis

sighting – spawning a host of rumors and speculations.

 

It was only in 1998 when a short-haired and beefier Wally resurfaced –

this time for the much-heralded JDLC reunion concert at the World Trade

Center. But just when his fans thought they’d hear more of their

long-lost brother, he just as quickly faded out of the music scene.

 

The good news is, Wally Gonzales is back – and boy, is he in fighting

form! When news of his first public performance at Kiko’s Bar spread

through the grapevine late last month, throngs of his fans quickly

stormed the place to pay allegiance to their guitar god.

 

Cradling a customized Carvin acoustic, Wally plucked the same searing,

spine-tingling blues leads – leading his cohorts through the same

nostalgic route he took over three decades ago. Even without the

inherent sustain of his vintage Les Pauls and Marshalls, Wally’s playing

was no less staggering.

 

Every so often, the maestro would rise up from his stool and go through

the same "rock star contortions" of long ago – an occasional scowl

matching every bend, raking his pick across the strings and flailing his

guitar like a lethal weapon.

 

"Wally’s Blues!," shouted a rabid fan.

 

"Wally’s Blues! Sige na, pauwi na kami!," the same guy begged in jest,

amid a roar of approval from the crowd.

 

With much aplomb, Wally obliged. But here’s the dilemma. Could a song –

whose very essence relied on the violin-like sustain of his favored

Gibson Melody Maker and the analog decay of an Echoplex – sound the 

same on a stock steel-string acoustic?

 

Surprisingly, Wally’s Blues – the acoustic version – presented a novel

contrast with its more organic and bare-naked timbres. Towards the

much-anticipated climax, Wally stood up once more as he wrung his

strings with fury and abandon.

 

Now here’s the catch. Can you believe the guy when he says he didn’t

touch his guitar for 10 years?

 

"From 1986 to 89, the rock bands vanished. Disco became the fad," he

laments. "I just arrived from Singapore then. We had a gig there for two

months. So, when I came back, nothing was happening. I was totally

disappointed – with the record royalties, the industry, everything. I

didn’t touch my guitar for 10 years. Wala talaga."

 

And what did he do during this hiatus? "My brother Dodie got me into his

shipping company as treasurer. That was my bread and butter for 10

years. Times were hard, and I had a family to

support," he continues.

 

All that time, there was very little communication between his JDC

bandmates. "The only time Pepe or Mike would call me was when I had to

sign some papers – legal stuff, rights ... when

someone would use our songs."

 

Fortunately, common sense kept him from selling off his cherished gear:

a vintage Gibson SG and Melody Maker which were his main axes before. "I

knew that there would come a time

when I’d play again," he muses.

 

"It was in 1995 when Dodie tried to convince me to play professionally

again. We even went to Hong Kong to buy a lot of instruments and

recording gear," the bluesman recalls. "And

although we had our usual Sunday jams with my good friend Buddy Zamora,

we never went beyond that – until last Sept. 26."

 

With the prodding of friends Jojo Villalba and Kiko’s Bar owner Chito

Aseneta, Wally assembled a small group of formidable players: bass

wunderkind Dondi Ledesma, jazz keyboardist Wowie Posadas on drums,

Joonie Centeno on vocals and Armand Quimpo on second guitar.

 

The group, christened "Wally and Friends," has been attracting a lot of

mainstream rockers and kids eager to reacquaint themselves with Pinoy

Rock history. On a typical Thursday night, the band dishes out

loosely-arranged renditions of ’70s rock classics –  Clapton’s

Crossroads, Sunshine of Your Love; the Allman Brothers’ In Memory of

Elizabeth Reed; Hendrix’s Purple Haze; the Doors’ Light My Fire; Lynrd

Skynrd’s Sweet Home Alabama; and of course, good ole vintage Juan dela

Cruz staples like Balong Malalim, Kagatan, Mamasyal sa Pilipinas and

Himig Natin.

 

With his comeback, are the prospects of a JDLC reunion greater than ever?

"Why not? I’m open to it," he winks. "In fact, we are planning to do it

as soon as Mike comes back home."

 

Looking back, Wally cherishes his fondest memories of his JDLC days. "We

weren’t really after the money then," he confesses. "Sina Sampy, Resty,

Bosyo... we just wanted to play. Wala nang ganung tugtugan ngayon."

 

            by Tinnie P. Esguerra  © 2002

 

 

 
© BlueRock Union