It was not surprising to find many of my music industry-friends pay tribute to the late, great guitarist Wally Gonzalez by posting heartfelt messages on social media or showing a picture of the late rock icon with them either as friends or fans.
Wally had the gift of talent that was unmistakably laudable. He enjoyed the rock royalty reputation that got him past revered guitar circles and into the pantheon of mainstream recognition. His place in Pinoy Rock is unique. He didn’t even have to showcase his singing; just being the acknowledged and equally important “third wheel” in a trio featuring louder figures Pepe Smith and Mike Hanopol was more than enough validation that he was truly someone special.
Back in 2005, during a Juan Dela Cruz Band reunion concert staged at the World Trade Center in Pasay, I was among the fortunate spectators given backstage access to the band, being a journalist freshly covering the music scene. Right after the show, I witnessed Senyor Wally seated, apparently cooling off from the adrenaline of their electrifying performance. I approached and politely asked how it was doing the show which was major news being the first time the group performed together in the 21st century.
As people would have expected of him, Wally calmly expressed how he felt in two short words: “Ang sarap!”
The man certainly enjoyed the concert, in the same vein as those who witnessed it unfold before their eyes. I think I heard an alternative rock band boasted that they wrote their biggest hit after watching that show.
The outpour of gratitude towards this acknowledged bluesman is rooted on how classy he was able to stand his ground amidst the overshadowing presence of his two bandmates. Together they were able to carve a name as a seminal Pinoy Rock act partly because none of them tried to upstage each other. They were projecting themselves as they were—nothing more, nothing less. In Wally’s case, he just needed to let his guitar do much of the talking.
“Wally’s Blues” is easily his most streamed solo track on Spotify — a no brainer considering how he had established himself as a vanguard of the genre. The blues community could be territorial and bullish to posers. Not to him who was considered an authentic master.
Proof of his mystical legend as the Quiet Juan, a phrase alluding to his comparison with Beatle George sandwiched by two guys named John and Paul, was the fact he was a founding member of Juan Dela Cruz Band. The group’s debut album didn’t even feature Smith and Hanopol. It was his decision to reconvene as a power trio that catapulted the group to fame and led to the birth of Pinoy Rock.
Yet, never did he boast to the press that he founded what became the pioneering Filipino rock band with both critical and popular acclaim. That was something and I have a feeling it was part of his magic to exercise a kind of unspoken rule the Swedish people termed as Jantelagen. This is a good-vibe practice wherein someone would rather prefer to be unnoticed even if he is already accomplishing something extraordinary. You can’t expect good ol’ Wally to brag about how big he was.
The local rock scene surely needed Pepe’s scene-stealing character, and Mike’s lyrical sensibilities. But Wally’s presence couldn’t be undermined. One time when I saw them perform live in a more intimate venue, and I happened to be seated near to where Wally stood on stage, I clearly saw how his fingers played the guitar intro to “Titser’s Enemi No. 1.” Looking back, I felt right there his tremendous value to the act. it couldn’t be Juan Dela Cruz Band without his distinctive riffs and lead parts.
Hanopol himself, in paying homage to his mate, fleshed out his view of Wally’s technical skills. He sent me this message: “Ang alam kong madalas niyang gamitin ay pentatonic. Bihira siyang lumabas dun. Lumabas man siya, chromatic and daan.”
Developed independently by ancient civilizations and still widely used in numerous genres, pentatonic is a musical scale consisting of five notes per octave. Chromatic, on the other hand is a set of twelve pitches used in tonal music, with notes separated by the interval of a semitone.
Choosing to sound quite technical in expressing his fondness for a friend that practically led him to stardom, the man who penned many of their band’s hits, along with his notable solo and commissioned works, added, “Bihira din siya mag-diminished. Hindi niya bag ‘yung augmented. Basta mostly within or inside lang siya ng pentatonic.”
Juan Dela Cruz Band was indeed a power trio in every sense of the phrase as the winsome work of Wally Gonzalez effortlessly wailed with wonder.