A Phoenix Pilgrim in Paris

In a November 2022 Pitchfork video, guitarist of the French indie band Phoenix Chris Mazzalai shared the band’s top five favorite locations to visit near the Louvre, where Alpha Zulu, Phoenix’s seventh album, was recorded.  The clip showed him (and occasionally bassist Deck D’Arcy) visiting the following places: a sake shop, an Italian restaurant, a bookstore, a park, and a museum. After watching it, I told myself that if ever I’d get the chance to revisit France, I would go and check out those places myself.

Luck was on my side as five months later, I did get the opportunity to have a short European holiday, with France being one of the countries in the list. And just like what I had previously told myself, I did look for those locations in the video. It became my goal to visit them not only because I was a tourist who wanted to see more of the capital city but also have my own version of a Phoenix experience. You see, I didn’t attend their third Manila show last March 5th, so visiting those five spots was sort of my way of making up for what I had missed. It was also my way to see if maybe–just maybe–I’d get really lucky enough to even see them there.  

Unfortunately, there was no sighting of the band in any of those places.  Well, if I had visited sooner, perhaps my chances of seeing them in the flesh could have been higher (more about that later). I guess it just wasn’t meant to be. At any rate, I’m quite certain that Phoenix would still come back to the Philippines for another concert once they release their eighth album, and hopefully, I can catch them then. Yes, it’s going to take a long while, but at least I know that I’m not waiting in vain. So, for now I’ll just have to be content with being in those locations they frequent.

I went to these places on different days in April.  Some were easy to find; others took a bit more effort.

Musée des Arts Décoratifs (MAD)
107 rue de Rivoli

Located in the Marsan Pavilion of the Louvre, MAD boasts of a vast collection of works that showcase the country’s culture, history, and art.  On display are various furniture and decor, ceramic and glassware, fashion and jewelry pieces, posters, comic books, appliances, and so much more. 

Aside from it being home to countless art pieces, it is also special to Phoenix because it became their recording studio for Alpha Zulu when it was closed to the public due to COVID-19. MAD was also the location of their Amazon Music live stream performance in November of last year, which I, unfortunately, wasn’t able to catch either because it was aired at 03:30 in the morning in Manila. I’m not absolutely certain if this area right here was indeed the exact venue of the gig as I only saw a short clip of them setting up the space before the show in one of their social media accounts, but I think it is!

The stairs opposite the ones in the first couple of photos above led to an exhibit called Des cheveux et des poils, which actually was the starting point of my visit in the museum.  The exhibit showed the social significance of hair & body hair in the Western world; however, it went beyond merely showing different hairstyles though, as it also related them to concepts of beauty, identity, and status. 

When I entered the hall, I immediately heard faint parts of a familiar song–it was After Midnight! I got a bit excited because I was there because of Phoenix, and then I could hear the song I looked forward to watching live the most being played there no less! It was as though they were welcoming me on my first day of discovering their favorite hang out spaces.  At first, I thought it was only piped-in music, but as I walked a bit further, I realized that it was coming from a video showing this hairstylist recreating some of Europe’s extravagant hairstyles of the past. As the video played on I heard Lisztomania next.

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Hearing Phoenix songs used in the film was a really wonderful surprise!  I never saw Phoenix mention the film in their socials, or read something about it elsewhere, so it was great that I was able to watch it.

Librairie Galignani
224 rue de Rivoli

This bookstore is just along the same street as MAD, so finding it was easy.  Said to be the first English bookstore in Europe since 1801, the shop has a wide selection of French and English titles. If there’s a book that you want but is unavailable, the staff can order it for you just as one offered to do so for me when I inquired about a particular title. 

There was an interesting thing that happened while I was browsing, by the way, and that is seeing The Virgin Suicides.  Someone must have checked it out and didn’t bother to put it back properly on the shelf and so it was just out there, all exposed.  In case you don’t know why this is interesting for me, it’s because this book is connected to Phoenix as well. 

This Jeffrey Eugenides 1993 novel was turned into a movie in 1999, with director Sofia Coppola at its helm. Sofia is the daughter of renowned filmmaker Francis Ford Coppola and the wife of Thomas Mars, the vocalist of Phoenix.  Together with fellow French group Air, Mars (Gordon Tracks) contributed to the movie’s soundtrack with the song Playground Love, which Phoenix themselves even occasionally cover during their live performances.

I swear having this book out in the open wasn’t staged at all! 

Racines
8 Passage des Panoramas

Passage des Panoramas is one of the many covered passages in Paris, lined with different kinds of small restaurants, cafes, and shops that sell vintage items such as postcards and stamps. It is also where you can find Racines, a 16-year old restaurant that combines Italian cuisine with Parisian flair.  Unfortunately, I got to see it only from the outside as it was closed when I got there, so there isn’t much for me to share here. I ended up eating in one of Vietnamese restaurants there instead where I even met a group of fellow Filipinos.  Yes, I was in Paris… eating Asian food.  Lol

Workshop ISSÉ
11 rue Saint Agustin

Phoenix have a love affair with sake (well, Japan in general) and about a decade ago, tried their hand in making sake with Tatenokawa Brewery.  Since then, they have been producing a limited number of sake; Workshop ISSÉ is where you can buy one.  

I had a bit of difficulty finding this place (Racines too), but it was alright because I got to buy some Japanese snacks and chat with the nice lady running the place at that time and meet her friendly yet moody dog. I didn’t buy Phoenix’s sake, however, mainly because it was way too expensive for my budget–it costs almost 200 euros! 

Phoenix’s book, Phoenix: Liberté, Égalite, Phoenix! and a Ti Amo CD were on their shelf too, but only as displays. The woman must have inferred that I was a fan because I seemed more interested in Phoenix products than their other items, so she confirmed if I was one.  Of course I said yes.  And then I asked her if the guys drop by the place often and she answered affirmatively.  In fact, they (I assumed that it was just some of the members and not all of them) were just there some four days prior. Sayang!

Jardin du Palais Royal
rue de Montpensier

Originally, I was supposed to go to Avalon because it was April 22nd that day.  What’s the significance of the date? April 22 is significant to Phoenix; in what way, I don’t know because they have never explained it.  But it has been mentioned in their song Rally and referenced in their video Long Distance Call. It was also within the week of April 22 that Bankrupt! was released a decade ago.  Going back to Rally, there is a line there that goes:

Remember the time we talked about everlastings?
Don’t you know we’ll both fall to pieces too?
April 22nd at the Avalon, you teased me
Hook up with me, meet at the rally

… hence my interest in going to Avalon.  The problem was that I was (still am) absolutely clueless as to what “Avalon” is exactly.  Before going to France, I found a certain Hotel Avalon, somewhere near Gare du Nord.  Was it that or were Phoenix referring to another thing? Perhaps Avalon may even be a metaphor for something and not a real place! It could also be just this random thing that they just casually threw in their lyrics or videos to make them seem mysterious for all I know!  So I decided to ditch my plan and went to the final stop of their top five instead: the Royal Garden. 

It was like the other gardens I’ve been to in the area albeit relatively smaller.  The trees were also trimmed and shaped to have cube-ish tops. The fountain wasn’t running at that time though, but many people still surrounded it, sitting on its edge or on the ground, chatting with friends, or sharing some light snack. Not many people were there when I visited the place, which was nice because it wasn’t noisy.  Nearby a covered path were a couple having their wedding photos taken.  

A couple more Phoenix related things happened during my trip in France by the way.

1) I heard Artefact being played at a Carrefour store.  I didn’t immediately recognize it; I just thought that the tune sounded familiar at first.  When I realized that it was indeed Artefact, I could not help smiling.  Apart from After Midnight and Winter Solstice, Artefact was another song from Alpha Zulu that I hoped to experience live during their Manila show, but since I wasn’t there that night, some cosmic DJ let me listen to it in Strasbourg instead! 

2) I finally got to see Motorbass Studios! Owned by the late Philip Zdar (aka Philippe Cerboneschi), half of Cassius and a dear friend and producer of Phoenix, Motorbass is where Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix was recorded. I actually tried to locate it the first time I went to France almost ten years ago, but I wasn’t able to. It really wasn’t my plan to go and find it again this time around, but since there were some places that my companion and I wanted to see in Montmarte, I figured I should just try to find it one more time.  And I finally did find it… I think.  I’m not entirely sure if it was indeed Motorbass because it looked just like a nondescript apartment building; it didn’t have any signage either. Both the number and the street were correct though.

Five places, three separate days. If I had had more time and money, I would have actually gone to more Phoenix-related locations because there are still a lot (I was in their home country after all) but that just wouldn’t have been feasible or right–I was on vacation, not a pilgrimage! However, it did seem a bit like one now that I’ve recounted my experiences, though: I traveled to a foreign land and searched for sites that have some value to me.  And while I cannot say that I have undergone a deep personal transformation or gained a deeper understanding of life by visiting those spots, I was able to expand my knowledge of the world. Or at the very least of Paris. 

Well I Do, Chester

Who cares if one more light goes out / In the sky of a million stars? / It flickers, flickers. / Who cares when someone’s time runs out / If a moment is all we are? / Or quicker, quicker. / Who cares if one more light goes out? / Well, I do. – “One More Light”. Linkin Park, 2017

A video interview of Linkin Park’s Mike Shinoda and Chester Bennington is replaying in my head.  In the clip, Chester recalls how, during a gig with his side project Dead by Sunrise, a female fan shoved her four fingers inside his mouth while performing on live TV.  “I have a fucking microphone in my hand and I’m singing on national television!  What are you doing?!” says Chester, astonished, while Mike laughs at his friend’s insanely hilarious experience.  This short interview still cracks me up whenever I remember it, but when I do, a blanket of sadness also descends over me, as it’s a reminder that Chester’s laughter, smile, and voice are no longer.

A little more than three weeks ago, the world was stunned with the news of Chester Bennington’s sudden and tragic passing.  I remember it clearly.  I woke up on the morning of July 21 in a delightful mood.   It was a typical Friday, and I could already taste the weekend on my lips.  I got my phone to turn off the alarms that had not yet set off when I noticed that there was a notification of a new post from a band I follow on Twitter.

I read the first few lines of the post and wondered why they decided to randomly talk about Linkin Park and Hybrid Theory all of a sudden.

                “Hybrid Theory was one of the first tapes we ever bought as kids + @linkinpark was THE soundtrack to our childhood.

And then I got to the last part:

                Thank  you. RIP Chester X”

“RIP Chester”??  Huh?! What are they talking about?  Why are “RIP” and “Chester” mentioned in the same line?  What do you they mean?  My mind could not comprehend this simple string of words and grasp the obvious.  I decided to check what was trending on Twitter and there “Linkin Park”, “Chester Bennington”,  and “RIPChester” dominated.   I was completely surprised and confused.   I searched for answers and Google provided some: “Chester Bennington, 41, dies of suicide.”  It felt like déjà vu.  Wasn’t this the headline too when Chris Cornell died just a couple of months back?

Unlike in the case of Cornell’s death however, the feeling of shock and loss was bigger for me.  After all, I know Chester Bennington and I am familiar with his discography far more than Cornell’s.  I even got to see him in the flesh in 2004!

Since I still had work to go to, I got through my morning routine and eventually left the house with my sister, who was also bound for work.  While on my way to the office, I kept on digging for more news and checking social media.  Then I saw a photo that Linkin Park posted on their Twitter page.  It had no captions, just a photo of Chester in the middle of a sea of people holding up their mobile phones, making the whole place look as though it was illuminated by stars.  I decided to pay my respects to Chester by retweeting the image and saying something about his music.  I began typing and when I finished the first sentence, I stopped.  I just stared at what I had written for a couple of minutes and could not continue:

Linkin Park’s music helped me cope during a turbulent time in my life…

Little by little, it was getting harder for me to breathe. Pools of tears started gathering in my eyes, which I tried to fight back.  I told my sister I was getting teary-eyed.  She thought I was reading an article and asked me what I was looking at.  I told her I was not reading anything.  And then she asked me again why I was getting teary-eyed, and I told her that I was just saddened by Chester’s death.  I read again what I had just typed, and told her once more that I felt like crying.  And at that time, I was no longer able to contain it.  I just broke down and wept.  It was as if all the profound sadness that had been restrained by my shock when I first heard the news had been emancipated.  My chest felt heavy, and my hand that held my phone felt weak.  My sister just looked at me sympathetically, said nothing, and continued driving.  In between sobs, I briefly explained how Linkin Park’s music helped me get through a family tragedy more than a decade ago.  How, in moments when I couldn’t scream, Chester did so for me.  How they were not only part of my tumultuous past but also formed a part of some of my brightest joys.

photo: Mike Shinoda’s Instagram account: ‘I think this was the first photo we ever took together.’

You see, Linkin Park’s music was a lifesaver, but it didn’t always start that way.   Unlike many who got exposed to the band’s music during their childhoods or their pubescent years, I discovered them when I was already in college.  And I did not start listening to them because it fueled my raging angst either.  No, I paid attention mainly because I was entertained.  I found their music, which melded hip-hop and metal, well-crafted and pleasurable even though those two genres I rarely enjoyed on their own.

When One Step Closer came out in 2000, I did not immediately become a fan, although it got me intrigued.  I would often see its music video on MTV, which I initially found weird.  It took Crawling for me to start paying serious attention to their music.  The sound of draining water at the beginning, the crunch of the guitars, the rapping – I listened to them all!  I was particularly impressed by the singer’s vocal style, too.  I was amazed and wondered how he could scream his lungs out while still being in tune one second and then sing with such delicacy and frailty in another.  Papercut sealed the deal, and so I purchased Hybrid Theory later on, which then became the “noisiest” and loudest album I owned at that time.

While the sound of Linkin Park captured me, lyrically, however, I could not completely relate.  There was no one in particular that I wanted to shout “Shut up when I’m talking to you!” or “You try to take the best of me/ Go away!” to.  The anger that burned in Chester Bennington’s blood was not present in mine.

Until 2002 came.

A heartbreaking accident due to hospital negligence happened to my mother, which drastically altered and ruined our worlds.  In an instant, the world that I was living in turned upside down and unleashed unbearable pain and anguish.  It occurred in summer, but my family drowned in an endless downpour of tears.

What happened was something that was utterly difficult to accept.  I was plunged into darkness and my reality tortured me.  Each member of the family developed a way to cope and deal with our bleak lives so that we might be able to function.  For me, I made school my escape.  For two years that my mother stayed in the hospital (yes, two years!), I excelled in my studies despite all the unimaginable amount of stress, worries, and misery.   I tried to forget my reality by focusing on school work, projects, and exams.  There were many times when I wanted to rebel and self-destruct, but I thought, how could I ruin an already destroyed life?  Outside, I was functioning like any other student.  My friends admired my strength, but truthfully, inside I was rotting and dying.  I trained myself to be numb, so that I could pretend I was alive.

However, in times when I could not pull myself together, or when the pieces of my shattered life started cutting me in all directions, I turned to music.  I allowed myself to be drunk in it, and let it fill my fingertips to remind me that blood was still flowing in my veins.  There were many artists who comforted me during that dark period, but I found Linkin Park’s music to be particularly helpful.

April 2002, the earliest journal entry having a reference to Chester Bennington and Linkin Park’s music.  Their presence in my journals would continue in the following years.  There I would write how happy I was because I attended their concert or that I signed up at LPCommunity, where I had my first ever blog.

Suddenly, lyrics like “I feel the light betray me” or “I wanna run away/ never say goodbye” or “I wanna be with the energy, not with the enemy / a place for my head” were words I could connect to.  And even if the words did not completely reflect my thoughts, the intense screams of Chester were enough.  I remember there were times when I would just sit in front of the CD player and listen to his head-splitting screams because I myself could not scream.  In times when my heart was being ripped apart but had to remain quiet on the outside, or when my home didn’t feel like one, and friends could not offer any comfort, Chester and Linkin Park’s music were there to say “I’m with you.”  Their music was not a beacon of hope, rather a friend who commiserated with and kept me company in the dark.

After watching the Making of Meteora, it inspired me to start painting.  My initial appreciation for graffiti art also started here.

My obsession with Linkin Park would continue until Meteora, with songs like Easier to Run, Somewhere I Belong, Nobody’s Listening, Numb, and Breaking the Habit forming part of my personal soundtrack.

By 2004, every music fan’s dream of seeing their favorite artist live came true for me.   I was able to see and experience their music live when MTV brought the Meteora World Tour to the Philippines.  I remember doing all sorts of crazy things just to be able to meet them: enter NU107 contests twice, raffle promos, and even follow them to their hotel after the gig, but alas, it was never meant to be.  (That was the first and last time I ever stalked a band up to their hotel! Haha!)  Until now, that concert of theirs remains to be one of the best ones I have ever been to in my life, and is filed under the “happiest memories” folder in my brain.

As the years passed by, however, the circumstances in my life changed, and I discovered new music to listen and relate to.   By the time Minutes to Midnight was released in 2007, my obsession for Linkin Park had already waned.  Although my life then was still relatively difficult, the intensity of Linkin Park’s music was not as useful to me as before.  Their music kept me sane for years, but it had already served its purpose.  I was very much grateful for that, but it was time for me to move on.

photo: musicforrelief.org.  LP, thru Music for Relief, was one of the first few bands to offer help when Supertyphoon Yolanda (Haiyan) hit PH in Nov 2013.  And unbeknownst to many, for every ticket sold during their Aug 2013 Manila show, $1 went to an international NGO working in the country at that time.  The band’s generosity and kindness is one of the reasons why they still hold a soft spot in my heart.

Despite not being as passionate for Linkin Park’s music as I was before, I was still updated in a way with what was happening with them.  This is a special thing I have with Linkin Park.  Unlike the other bands that I once loved and then moved on from, with Linkin Park, I didn’t completely lose touch.  Sure, I was no longer that excited about them, didn’t watch their music videos repeatedly or memorized the lyrics of all of their songs anymore, but I still knew their songs.  Well, at least the singles that they put out.  I checked out their new albums and still occasionally watched some interviews or behind-the-scenes clips.  In 2013, when I got hold of their Living Things album (thanks to a radio contest done by Jam 88.3), my interest in their music was revived for the same reason I had when I first discovered them – it was a pleasure to listen to.

Just several months ago, I still watched videos of Chester and Mike Shinoda answering fan questions , beatboxing to the tune of Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star,  and telling their Filipino fans “Mahal namin kayo!”

 

Earlier this year, many artists that I like released new materials / had concerts one after the other.   I knew Linkin Park also had new material and checked out Heavy.  Honestly, the first time I heard it, it made me scratch my head in confusion and I didn’t really appreciate it at that time.   When I learned that Linkin Park performed a song for Chris Cornell on Jimmy Kimmel, I checked it out, but I got distracted by something else and didn’t finish it.  In short, One More Light didn’t enjoy the same attention I had given to all their other materials.

Until July 20, 2017 happened.

The death of Chester Bennington has had me listening to all Linkin Park materials for more than three weeks straight already.  Once again, listening to Linkin Park’s music became my therapy, but only this time, I wasn’t getting it because of my own problems, but because of Chester Bennington and Linkin Park themselves.   From the day I learned about Chester’s death until now, I couldn’t bring myself to listen to something else.  Apart from the fact that it was my way of catching up with all the music I didn’t get to hear, I also I felt like if I did listen to some other bands, I was betraying Chester’s memory.  Partly, too, perhaps, it was triggered subconsciously by guilt, a regret for “abandoning” them.

But listening to their albums or watching their old performances and interviews has not been easy especially during the first two and a half weeks.  On the day Chester died, every song I heard on the radio made me cry.   There was a time I was listening to Faint and I was bawling my eyes out!  Jam 88.3 had these tributes for Chester thrice, and I listened to all of them and cried while doing so.  Those weren’t the only times I cried.  I wept while I was doing the laundry.  I shed some tears while commuting to and from work.  I sobbed before going to sleep while listening to One More Light (track) as if it were a lullaby.  Honestly, Chester’s death hit me hard far more than what I expected; something like this has never happened to me before.   I really felt as if I had lost a friend, and at times, it felt strange.  Why am I feeling this sad for him?  He is just a celebrity!  And then a memory from the past would remind me that his voice and his music once played a significant part in my life, and that was enough to silence that critic.

These three weeks has felt pretty unreal.  It felt like he’s been gone for a long time now, yet at the same time, it feels like his death just happened yesterday.   I cannot fathom the sadness the hardcore fans, who call themselves “soldiers”, must be feeling.   And I cannot even begin to imagine how the remaining members of Linkin Park, and most especially the family of Chester Bennington must be going through right now!  He’s left behind a wife and six children! Six!  It does not feel right that he’s gone.  Moreover, it doesn’t feel right that he was able to fish countless people out of the dark corners of their minds through his music, and yet he was not able to do same for himself.

Chester may be gone but Linkin Park still exist.  Certainly, the band won’t be the same without Chester’s unmistakably mighty voice, but they are still there.  No one knows what the future holds for them, and it’s still too early to make plans.  I can only hope that wherever the path leads them, that it would be for the best.  I may not consider myself a soldier, and I may not have been with them the whole time, but I will be with them now just like the way their music had been with me when it was needed.

photo: Chester Bennington’s Twitter

American author Chuck Palahniuk once said, “We all die.  The goal isn’t to live forever.  The goal is to create something that will.”  It is quite evident from the tremendous outpouring of support, and all the memorials and tributes that people from different parts of the globe have organized that Chester was quite successful in achieving that goal.  His flame might have been prematurely extinguished but his music will forever reverberate in the hearts and souls of the lives he was able to touch.

Chester Bennington, thank you for the music and for wearing your heart on your sleeve.   You will forever be missed.  You don’t have to scream anymore.   Rest in peace.

_____________________

A list of memorials around the world has been compiled.  You can check it out here.

Listen to 3 hours of Linkin Park’s live performances as gathered by Jam88.3 as a final tribute to the late great Chazzy Chaz!

A Soft Whimper

A band I once adored played at this small, unknown bar near my office last night. I used to frequent its gigs, which were usually overflowing with people and bursting with energy. However, its light significantly diminished after its frontman left, dramatically changing it forever — unfortunately, not for the better. I thought of dropping by the bar just to see how things were but decided not to anymore.

photo: stocksnap.io

It was the very first time I intentionally did not attend its gig, which would be unthinkable for me years ago. In the past, I gladly sacrificed much time and effort just to just to be immersed in its music.  But there I was, with a heavy heart, choosing to go home instead.

Somehow what I read in a music article several years ago rung true that night: a relationship with a band sometimes ends not with a bang but with a soft whimper.

Sadly, the band is better in my memory.