In the new Eraserheads documentary, boys grow up, look back, and reaffirm music’s ability to bring people together.
Warning: This article contains certain snippets from “Combo on the Run.”
In the wake of a harrowing pandemic and the political tensions surrounding the 2022 presidential elections, the Eraserheads reunited for the first time in over a decade to perform their Huling El Bimbo concert. To this day, it remains the biggest concert ever held in the Philippines, with approximately a quarter of a million attendees. All roads, from past to present, lead back to that single euphoric evening—which is the beating heart of the recent Eraserheads documentary, Combo on the Run (aptly titled after a song from their first studio album, Ultraelectromagneticpop!).
As expressed in the film: “A band could not possibly solve a country’s problems. But what they can do is offer a momentary reprieve for two to three hours.” Directed by Diane Ventura, Combo on the Run sheds new light on one of the country’s greatest bands, including the immensity of their contributions to the alternative rock scene; the earth-shaking fame that came at the height of their careers in the 1990s; and of course, the schism of their disbandment.
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Sorting Fact From Fabrication
Rumors, speculations, and hearsay about the reasons behind the Eraserheads’ split have circulated for years, rehashed and distorted like a message in a game of telephone. In Combo on the Run, the band sets the record straight, each member giving their own account of the events that gave way to their rise and separation, letting audiences form their own opinions as they piece it all together.
The documentary gives an unflinching look into the band’s journey, refusing to sugarcoat the bumps and issues they faced. The perfectly-timed candor of these sound bites even got the theatergoers laughing on more than one occasion.
Chronicling The Rise Of Rockstars
Combo on the Run gives audiences what they love: a classic underdog story. Four college boys in the University of the Philippines Diliman form an unlikely group of upstart musicians. Was it really a dream team? Not exactly. Lead vocalist and guitarist Ely Buendia admitted that when he posted a call for potential band members, he wasn’t all too impressed by Marcus Adoro (lead guitar), Raimund Marasigan (drummer), and Buddy Zabala (bassist); but it was humorously noted that they were the only ones who showed up—and the rest, as we know, is history.
It feels like a cliché to say that the road to fame was paved with obstacles, but that’s exactly how it was for the young musicians, from experiencing a steady stream of rejections to submitting a poor recording of their first album. Thankfully, people eventually took notice of their potential, landing them performances at the popular Club Dredd and a chance to release Ultraelectromagneticpop! in 1993.
As one interviewee states, the songs on the album were unlike anything he’d heard before in the Filipino music scene. They were fresh, playful, and indicative of the newly-acquired artistic freedom that came after Martial Law. The young musicians were eager to capture the milieu, describing experiences of the Filipino youth with a relatable charm and zest that drew listeners in.
The Eraserheads gained a large and devoted following, landing them spots in movies and commercials; taking them on whirlwind tours around the country and abroad (complete with groupies and wild crowds); and even winning them the Viewer’s Choice Award for Asia at the 1997 MTV Video Music Awards for their beloved song “Ang Huling El Bimbo.” The band and their collaborators recalled tours in countries like Japan and Singapore, with crowds of foreigners ecstatic over their music—showing just how much the band transcended cultural and language barriers. Their influence can still be felt today, inspiring young musicians within and beyond the alternative rock scene.
What Are Friends For?
A band is a delicate, living thing, tied together by a web of complex relationships. The members of Eraserheads make it clear that they were united by a shared taste in music, but not much else. They go as far as stating they were never “friends,” but simply professional collaborators. The band disbanded in 2002 after releasing a series of successful albums, aware of the growing distance between them.
The schism between the members only became wider as their artistic philosophies and personal interests clashed. Yet in 2008, the band got together after receiving an offer most couldn’t refuse, performing their very first reunion concert. The situation wasn’t ideal, especially for Buendia, whose mother passed away after a battle with cancer just two days before the event. To make matters worse, the lead vocalist collapsed from cardiac arrest in the middle of the concert, and was rushed to the hospital to recover.
The band went their separate ways before reuniting for a 2022 concert. By then, they were far from the young men they once were: but they had baggage to unload and tensions to overcome. Adoro, in particular, was also facing public scrutiny after his daughter Syd Hartha and ex-partner Barbara Ruano accused him of physical and emotional abuse. Buendia refused to work with him unless he sought professional help and forgiveness, which he did (though it’s an ongoing pursuit, since his daughter has still cut ties with him).
Adoro was evidently changing his ways, so the band continued preparations for what would be a defining moment in Philippine music. In the end, it was music that brought them together, just as it had in the very beginning—accompanied by the knowledge that things change, and life’s too short to hold onto the past forever.
Combo on the Run poses a platonic “will they, won’t they,” making audiences wonder if the Eraserheads will ever be friends while interrogating the parasocial obsession that puts so much emphasis on the necessity of friendship within a band. Did they ever care about each other? Would it have made a difference in their journey? Does any of that really matter?
The documentary gives no definite and explicit answer to these questions, letting them sit long after the credits roll. But as the montage towards the end shows us—clips of band members stating they may never be “best friends” juxtaposed with photos and videos of joyful karaokes, dinners, outings, and tours spent together—it’s never too late to start again.
The theatrical run of “Combo on the Run” was initially set for March 21 to 23, 2025, but has since been extended for another week due to persistent public demand.
