Take your rest now, Rico Baby

The year was 1975. The young music mogul Vic del Rosario Jr. was entertaining the visiting American group, The Temptations at the Pagliacci restaurant in Makati. They heard a voice singing Love Won’t Let Me Wait and it sounded so great that everybody at the table felt transfixed by the performance. In an instant Temptation Dennis Edwards, the voice behind Cloud 9 had joined the singer on stage in an impromptu jam. And that was how Rico J. Puno was discovered.

He was a strange one, Rico J. The mid-’70s was the time of heartthrobs. Victor Wood was the reigning Jukebox King. His main rival was Eddie Peregrina. On the other side were the campus idols, groups like Hotdog and the Apo Hiking Society.  Nightclub row had polished show bands like the New Minstrels and the Circus Band. Where would somebody like Rico fit in? But Del Rosario, ever the gambler, signed him up to Vicor and nothing was ever the same again.

Rico, it turned out was no mere singer.  He was an entertainer. That is why his gigs at the Spindle and Taxco were always packed. Balladeers of that time were mostly staid gentlemen who would only crack the safest jokes. They left the comedy to the comedians. Not Rico. He sang and told jokes, mostly at his expense, the meaner and the greener, the better. He was hilarious.

Rico was also a budding songwriter.  He would from time to time sing the current hits but would change some lyrics to Tagalog that he wrote. One of these was The Way We Were. Who would dare tamper with a Barbra Streisand song? Rico did.  He sang about memories, “Alaala ng tayo’y mag-sweetheart pa, namamasyal pa sa Luneta ng walang pera…” Can you imagine how many people went out on dates in Luneta with inadequate funds back then? Probably millions. And they all related with Rico’s song, fell in love with his voice, laughed at his jokes and made him one of the most successful artists in local music history.  Why, he was filling up the Araneta Coliseum all by himself.

Rico J. changed Philippine pop music forever. He opened the door for Basil Valdez, Ray Valera, Hajji Alejandro and many others. He made the kundiman hip. He brought soul to the Manila Sound. He was fun and sexy and he had this golden voice, raspy but of incredible sweetness.  And he made hits. Kapalaran, Buhat, Damdamin, May Bukas Pa, Lupa, Macho Guwapito, Together Forever, Magkasuyo Buong Gabi, Sorry Puwede Ba, Ang Tao’y Marupok, Bawal Na Pag-ibig, Diyos Ang Pag-ibig, Cartada Diyes and all those foreign songs he made his own with his funny, heartfelt lyrics.

Rico J. was born Enrico Puno on Feb. 14, 1953 to Felipe Puno and Corazon de Jesus. It was a sign of his life to come that his grandmother, Magdalena Puno, named him after the famous tenor Enrico Caruso.  He grew up in Balic-Balic, Sampaloc. He went to Burgos Elementary School and Mapa High School. He had a degree in Commerce from the Philippine School of Business Administration. He was married to Doris Tayag and they had four children. 

He was a simple man, but very generous with his friends. He had a natural gift for making people at ease in his presence. He remembered names and had a warm welcome for everybody. Like most successful men, he loved hard, lived hard and also partied hard.  As he got older and these started to take their toll on his body, Rico would often falter with his steps, be slow of movement and look very tired. But he never tired of singing. He would summon his voice and as the lyrics emanate from his mouth, it will be just like the old days again.

Those are what his family and friends, and I must add, millions of fans, have been revisiting these past days. Their old days with Rico J. Early in the morning of Oct. 30, the Total Entertainer succumbed to cardiac arrest. His weak heart decided to finally take its rest. He was 65.

“So it’s the laughter we will remember/ whenever we remember/ the way we were/ namamasyal pa sa Luneta…”

Take your rest now, Rico Baby.