Pinoy Rock pioneer and Juan dela Cruz Band founding member Wally Gonzalez’s last song, “Home,” recorded with Jay Ortega, Louie Talan and Vic Mercado, will be launched online on July 13, along with an auction of two of his guitars, including his 1969 Fender.
The story goes that in 2020, a year before Pinoy Rock pioneer and Juan dela Cruz Band founding member Wally Gonzalez died at age 71, he and his Bandwagon bandmate Jay Ortega co-wrote a song called “Home.”
Ortega recalls the track was spontaneously recorded in the home studio of Bandwagon drummer Vic Mercado, while waiting for bassist Louie Talan.
“Wally and I were tripping out while Vic was setting up his studio,” Ortega recounts. “Wally was playing around with a riff, I asked him to please continue doing so in a virtual loop, and then I started writing verses over that riff.”
“Then he started playing a heavier, faster riff, and again I asked if he could please keep repeating it. Then I wrote a chorus part, a melody for the bridge, and in 45 minutes we had a song.”
Upon Talan’s arrival, his three bandmates taught him the basic chords, the group did one run-through, and the song was recorded in one take.
But the track lay idle for a few years in an mp3 file, until Ortega managed to work on it with help from a former bandmate, Marco de Leon. They fixed the rough edges and mixed the music, Ortega re-recorded his vocal parts, and now the song is ready for release.
“Home” will be launched on July 13 at Midcentury Manila in Biñan, Laguna via NFT (non-fungible token) on the Tatak Juan label, available for purchase online.
Two of Gonzalez’s guitars, including his ’69 Fender, will be auctioned. Proceeds will go to Gonzalez’s wife, 1971 Miss Philippines World Onelia Jose, who is undergoing medical treatment.
Joey Ayala at Ang Bagong Lumad, and Jay Ortega & Los Lokos, will perform live—with Los Lokos ending its set with “Home.”
Ortega and I engaged in an email Q&A.
When did you meet Wally and how did you get to perform with him?
I met him briefly sometime in the early 2000s. We were introduced by Pyaps (Pepe Smith) at a gig. Wally was nice and we had a chat about music and his love for Led Zeppelin.
Around 2010, I chanced upon him at the old Mandarin Hotel with his band Manila Blues Experience—Kat Agarrado on vocals, Wowee Posadas on keys, Wendell Garcia on drums, and Louie Talan on bass. Towards the end of the last set, Wally motioned for me to join them onstage, and we ended up jamming on “Whole Lotta Love.”
After the show, Wally said he might be calling me for a gig sometime soon. A couple of months later, he asked me to perform with him at an SMB Octoberfest gig. I couldn’t believe it.
I asked what songs will be on the set list, and he said, “Puro JDLC (Juan dela Cruz) lang at Led Zep. Bagay sa iyo eh.” When I asked if we would rehearse, he replied, “Hindi na, magkita na lang tayo sa gig.” With a slight chuckle after.
I was like, “Oh, damn!” But I must come prepared. When I got to the gig, the band’s lineup with Wally was Dondi Ledesma on bass and Chris Messer on drums. I was intimidated, to say the least. I hadn’t performed since I called it quits with my last band DRT (pronounced Dirt).
I had no clue which songs we would perform. I brought out my lyric book, asked which song we would play first, lo and behold, the band just started playing JDLC’s “Palengke”— a song I knew by heart, thank God! But it was like that all night, as if Wally was testing me. He and Dondi would do long-ass, amazing solos in the middle of songs, and I’d just have to feel it out, and sing when I thought it was the right time. My heart was pounding, not because I was nervous, but because Wally, on this serendipitous night, had brought my musical soul back to life. We developed a deep friendship and connected on all levels.
What was your impression of him as a musician from an older generation?
Wally knew everything there was to know about being in a band, about his guitar, and getting the best out of it. But one thing that stuck with me after all those years of gigging with him, was how down to earth he was. That no matter the amount of legendary status he had gained over the years, he was a true and humble friend, someone who treated his bandmates with respect.
He would share with us the exact same amount he would get for himself, even if we were just the supporting cast. He was a real gentleman. I’ve known artists who would easily get more if it’s their name on the marquee and give their band mates “session fees.” Maybe that’s the biggest difference from their generation compared to mine or today’s artists. It was never about the ego; it was about the music which we shared and created on stage.
What made you want to record that loose jam which you turned into a song—was it purely a spontaneous moment and felt something good was coming out of Wally’s guitar doodling?
To be honest, Wally and I were bored at the time. I picked him up from his place in Dongalo, Parañaque and drove all the way to Vic’s place in Antipolo. It was a nice, chatty drive, as it usually was when we were together. But we were both itching to either rehearse or make music. He started doodling with riffs. It instantly caught my attention. From there I jumped in with some lyrics, melodies, and a song was born. Spontaneous combustion. Actually, there were two songs. I just didn’t get to finish the lyrics of the other one.
Were you in touch with Wally when he started getting sick?
We were constantly in touch via Messenger. Last we spoke was a little less than a month before he passed. He had told me he was getting better, and that he was planning to record one last album, and maybe do another Up in Arms (JDLC’s 1971 debut album) gig at 19 East. He was upbeat and made me feel like I would certainly see him again, I still have our Messenger convo. I don’t think I’d ever delete it.
What’s Wally’s greatest legacy to contemporary Filipino music?
He had a lot of qualms about how artists were being treated by the industry, by promoters, and by record labels. He wanted to make changes in favor of the artists. And had plans of championing that cause. Of course, it’s easy enough to say that his legacy would be his music, and how he inspired our generation, and the generations that followed. But I think his greatest gift was how he was a real friend through and through, his humility as a human being. We had a lot of plans. I still have songs we were working on that’s on my external drive. I’m just happy I was able to pull one off the proverbial rabbit’s hat, and I’m ecstatic to know this song will finally see the light of day.
I wrote the lyrics as a metaphor for being at peace with oneself, some might even say it’s about finding light at the end of the tunnel, one last heave in trying to get to heaven. The song has changed its meaning for me after Wally’s death. It’s now about him getting home. He is now where he belongs.
