The man who wrote in morsels had the most to say.
Antonio ‘Tony’ Maghirang was a music writer, critic, and fan. He was and is synonymous with the late great Jingle magazine. A journalistic institution in the music scene who reviewed multiple albums in the space of a few paragraphs. He was succinct, didn’t mince his words, and was never going to sugarcoat anything.
And that is how we met. Or clashed, if you will.
In 1982, Tony reviewed Canadian progressive rock band Rush’s Moving Pictures album. He trashed it and even compared it to a local band’s release (that was new wave and not even prog rock).
I walked over to the Jingle offices along P. Tuazon and 7th Avenue (I lived around the corner along 8th Avenue) and handed over a letter to the editors for their Bongga and Boquilla section for letter writers.
I expressed my protest and ended the missive by telling Tony to ‘clean your ears with hydrochloric acid.’
I thought that was the end of that, except that letter spawned a life of its own, with some other readers siding with me and some not in agreement. And it went on for a while in the letter column.
Thirty-six years later, in 2018, I was invited by my cousin Bing Pascual to cover a Valentine’s show she was producing featuring Lolita Carbon and Noli Aurillo at the Manila Hotel.
One of the media guests was Tony Maghirang, and he sat right before me. Tony turned and asked, ‘Rick, galit ka pa sa akin?’
I said no. Heavens, I was a 15-year-old kid in 1982. I wouldn’t even write such a thing today. I apologized, and Tony accepted. We became friends and worked together on a couple of projects where I invited him to cover Space-Ta, Kiss the Bride, Ebe Dancel, Wolfgang, and other launches.
During the Ebe Dancel EP launch, Tony made it in spite of battling gout.
‘Wouldn’t miss it for the world,’ he told me as he sauntered in with a limp.
But Tony was a trouper. Even decades after Jingle, he still stayed relevant, even with all the new jack writers coming in, and that says something about who he is as a writer and a person.
During the Covid-19 lockdown, when the Jingle documentary Jingle Lang ang Pahina became available for online viewing for a limited time, that letter I wrote was recounted by Tony, and he named me. This was shot in 2012, six years before we renewed acquaintances.
I viewed it with my equal parts shame and glee, and no offense was taken. I did, after all, write it.
A few years ago, Ian Urrutia invited Tony and me to be panelists for a special screening of the Jingle documentary along with its director, Chuck Escasa. And what a thrill it was sitting next to Tony discussing those good old days, aside from hearing Chuck’s love letter to the pioneering music magazine and guest Jing Garcia’s cool anecdotes.
We had lunch afterwards in a nearby restaurant in Poblacion, Makati, where he regaled me with tales from his Jingle days.
It was a pleasure working with Tony in the final eight years of his life. We became colleagues in the Soundstrip section of Business Mirror and Rolling Stone Philippines. We would sit next to each other during events, and I would frequently invite him to my events, and he vice versa. He even supported my underground record label, Eikon Records, reviewed some (thankfully, he didn’t trash them), and even purchased a Keltscross T-shirt that I made.
We started as ‘not really friends’ but ended up as really good friends. When you work with an institution like Tony Maghirang, you soak up as much knowledge and wisdom from them.
I sit stunned at his passing. I know all lives come to an end. But as I said, he is an institution. The man might not be here anymore, but the memories, his words, his articles, and his presence surely enriched Filipino music history.