The great summer soundtrack

There are certain songs that give vent to the season, songs written as if to make the heat a little bit more bearable. On the way back to Manila on board the WG&A Super Ferry, playing ad nauseam on the sound system was the Eagles’ Seven Bridges Road, with that immortal line, "There are stars in the southern sky ..." Then the following day, because the playlist was on limited rotation on a 24-hour basis, this was replaced by Cliff Richards’ Ocean Deep, which is meant to be listened to while staring off to the blue horizon, our gaze intermittently interrupted by schools of flying fish, while a Visayan co-passenger would be singing along a la Johnny Depp: "Ocean depp."

Some prefer taking the plane because it’s faster and you gain a day, but give me the boat anytime for what does it profit a man if he gains a day but loses his Soul II Soul? That was one band I wanted to hear while cruising at so many knots, Jazzie B kicking out the jams with his retinue of fair musical maidens.

Then too where would we all be without old JT, James Taylor who despite being hairless still evokes winsome memories of summer with songs like Up on the Roof (with visions of Tennessee Williams’ Cat on a Hot Tin Roof), and the self-explanatory Summer’s Here from the album Dad Loves His Work.

JT once played at the Folk Arts Theater and we did not miss it for anything. The venue was filled to the rafters as the audience had their fill of something more than mere nostalgia. When the timing is right and the stars in the southern sky are propitious, then JT really hits the spot whatever the season.

While listening to the radio on the way to work we could hardly recall the Sandwich song that had the vocalist in near delirium, singing "butterfly." So we had to ask a colleague well versed in these things, and without missing a beat he said Butterfly Carnival. It’s a song from the band’s Grip, Stand and Throw, and where Marc Abaya’s singing made him the natural successor to Bamboo.

Who can ever forget the Beach Boys? Though two of the Wilson brothers are dead and gone, the eldest and genius of a songwriter Brian Wilson is still around to wrestle with his various eccentric demons. Wilson the survivor had an album on bargain sale produced by Don Was of Was (Not Was) fame, entitled I Just Wasn’t Made for These Times, and there’s a reworked version there of the classic song of lost innocence, Caroline, No. Certainly it is a tune more enlightening than Bryan Adams’ Summer of ’69.

We may as well run down a few more titles that are full of sun and the consequences of heat, both natural and man-made.

Weather With You by Crowded House, wherein a sitar-driven intro colors the entire song, and its memorable refrain of how "everywhere you go, always take the weather with you."

Cool Change by Little River Band, a band from Down Under that also played in the Philippines way back when, and this particular song seems tailor-made for inter-island vessels, to be listened to possibly with a glass of rum coke or piña colada in hand.

How Deep is Your Love by the Bee Gees, the original boses pusa for the balahibong pusa, and this song from the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack refuses to die or go away, not even to die another day. How sweetly we danced to this, holding the lady love close and feeling the warmth of her breast, and seeing the droplets of sweat forming on the side of her neck which we wished to lick. Ala hoy!

Like a Stone by Audioslave, perhaps the latest supergroup to arrive on the scene, composed of remnants of Soundgarden and Rage Against the Machine, and this certified hit from their debut CD has what it takes to be played in every beer garden and minibus from Aparri to Jolo, complete with a tantalizing guitar solo with hard-to-replicate effects.

Noah’s Dove by 10,000 Maniacs, the studio version from the album Our Time in Eden expounds on and rhythmically beats out by piano the message of the covenant, that though the world be destroyed by water, there’s always that silver lining. Perfect for mulling over while on a boat for a night and a day, cruising this or that way, and Natalie Merchant’s voice alighting on you like Noah’s dove in the middle of the deep blue Philippine sea. A balm it is to the restless mind.