This is the fifth entry for Cousin’s Kanta Corner. If you’re new to this space, I implore you to check out the first entry and read about halfway through for a background on this ongoing writing project.
Howdy kakabsat!
I am a sports car—if said sports car struggles to start up every morning, has three punctured wheels, the ‘check engine’ light on, and its gas meter perpetually hovering a thread above Empty.
Remember two weeks ago when I wrote, “There have been few—if any—busier periods in my life outside of the past few weeks.” Well, ladies and gentlemen, allow me to present a new champion.
The past two weeks have been a whirlwind. No, strike that. The past two weeks have been a raging, roof-removing, signal no. 10 super typhoon.
Between moving house, playing straight late-night sing-alongs, acting like a regular human adult, acting like a virtual cousin, catching up on items on my to-do list, catching up on items not on my to-do list, air frying everything, and getting my life sorted—some days seem like an endless stop dance where my legs ache to sit on the chair and “shut off” mentally, but the music never ends because if it does, the chair disappears. Does this analogy even make sense?
And some nights, despite all that’s done, there creeps the feeling that mutters, “You could’ve done more.” A nagging voice that insists there’s something else we could’ve finished, something else we could’ve concluded today instead of reloading into our list for tomorrow.
But then there are moments when the kinder part of our brain gently pulls us back and reminds us to cut ourselves some slack because if we keep overclocking ourselves to the point of charred pinikpikan and internal breakdowns, who will watch over us then?
Perfect segway into:
This Week’s Song:
Watch Over You by Alter Bridge (2008)
Courtesy of that special college brother who was really into the whole “Sounds like Creed / Nickelback / Daughtry” genre.
What do I like about it?
I’ll be honest. I probably auto-skipped this song for a good decade simply because I initially judged it as another mid-00s Godsmack / 3 Doors Down / T-shirt-from-Tribal song that might’ve resonated with 11-year-old me but not as an adult.
Not that I dislike any of the bands mentioned above—there is a time and a place—but I never felt I was in the “right” time and place to give this track a chance.
And then, lo and behold, one day, I skipped the skip button. And wayyu, what a guilty pleasure gem.
I love this song to absolute bits. From the verse’s half-melancholy, half-hopeful harmonies building up to the refrain’s melodic hook that goes, “And whoOoOo-” It just makes me sing along like an off-pitch, heartbroken owl. The lyrics are straightforward, striking certain hugot chords, strumming about memories of wanting to stay for someone but knowing you may not have the strength to do so any longer.
And when the bridge rolls in, with the familiar soft-loud dynamic reminiscent of schoolboy-era radio hits, I find myself unable to keep from nodding my head in unison. Myles Kennedy’s vocals, fronting what is essentially Creed minus their original vocalist, is the musical equivalent of baking a cake with the same base sponge underneath but applying a different flavored icing and adding new designs onto a dessert that’ll hold its own had it been presented in an episode of The Great British Bake Off.
TL;DR, the core is the same, but the new layer keeps it interesting.
And there are days indeed when a musical cake cheat day is just what the ears crave.
What mountain memories does it conjure?
Upon graduating college, I spent a few years away from the only town I had ever called home. In the weeks leading up to the date I was to depart for farther lands, I met with friends and recall the strongest urge of wanting to stay, not just in Baguio… but in that specific time of our lives. With changes churning in the air for all of us, everyone I met—even if we promised over our fourth refill of Volante Session coffee that we would stay in touch and nothing would change—knew deep inside that life was moving forward, school was out, and the real world awaited. Staying in touch would not be as easy as saying we would.
This song feels like those moments—a hopeful melancholy wrapped in a familiar melody from one’s younger days.
Who should you recommend it to?
This may be a nice track to recommend:
- A friend you may have lost contact with, who has seen some tough times, and because you insist on pretending to be a stoic, unemotional highlander, is someone you cannot say “I care.” to. Take this song and go, “hey malagip ko sika haha. kamustan” Use that line. You’re welcome.
- Yourself. For when you need reminding to take care of yourself because who will watch over you when you’re gone?
Which lyrics deserve a second read-through?
“You say you care for me,
but hide it well.
How can you love someone,
and not yourself?
And who is gonna save you,
when I’m gone?
And who’ll watch over you,
when I’m gone?”
Sigh.
And so…
And so, the fifth Cousin’s Kanta Corner entry is complete. Apologies for this one coming later than scheduled, but hey—all part of our theme of cutting ourselves some slack!
Announcements and Matters of Cousin Interest:
– I have moved to my new place, and after a week of sleeping on the floor, I now have an actual bed to sleep on, so hallelujah.
– New cousin Instagram posts are coming soon!
We’ve survived the whirlwinds, kakabsat.
May we continue to do so in the days, weeks, months, and years ahead.
Until then, take care of yourselves. Apir!