Darkness Fell on Basti Artadi
Saturday, October 21st, 2006Sad to hear that Basti Artadi of Wolfgang has finally retired from the music scene. You can read the article here:
Basti Artadi: One last howl
By Samantha Echavez
People Asia Magazine 10/21/2006
"Due to personal issues, it is finally time that my musical jihad comes
to an end." No one predicted that such announcement would arrive so
soon - let alone, arrive at all. Last June, Basti Artadi of the
now-defunct rock band Wolfgang, proclaimed his resignation from the
music industry where he ruled as a legendary front man for almost 14
years.
It came as a shock, a painful blow to his fans, especially
those here in the country who were still mourning over the disbandment
of Wolfgang and had to content themselves with music downloads and
video clippings of his new California based band, Lokomotiv. It was
hard to reconcile with the fact: Bash, retired? But he kept roaring
"Rock and roll, man! Long live rock and roll, mga pare [my buddies]!"
as if he was meant to do that forever!
He’s only 33. He was meant to make more songs like "Darkness
Fell," "Beast," "Sanctified," "What Grows In Your Garden," "Atomica"
and "No Falter," songs that have prepared themselves for immortality in
the Pinoy rock scene. His departure from Wolfgang to settle down in the
US in 2002 was another explosive episode, prompting the band’s
disbandment at a later time, but he proved that he could still kick ass
miles away from home as Lokomotiv’s vocalist.
There was no time to miss him: way before the fans could
complain of not hearing Basti Artadi snarls and screams, he got a
chance to emerge as California’s next big thing in rock. But two years
into this stint, Basti Artadi left Lokomotiv and the industry for a
reason he would not elaborate. Ever the master of metaphors, this
songwriter/singer opted for a poignant footnote.
"The music industry is a beast and it’s one that you have to
grab hold of and start stabbing in hopes that one day you can kill it
before it kills you. Unfortunately my knives are no longer long enough
or sharp enough to continue on."
Other members of Lokomotiv addressed the fans’ concerns on
who was going to fill Basti Artadi’s shoes, promising that this was
just a "pitstop in one hell of a ride." But the Wolfgang loyalists,
those who had witnessed the band’s rise from an upcoming band in 1994
to a major force in OPM, were aware that things would never be the
same.
Even Razorback vocalist Kevin Roy admitted that no one could
sing like Artadi does. His passion, well-interpreted by his
raucousness, was unequaled. His exit was a loss, another reminder that
the heydays of Pinoy rock - the grand era when bands produced one
classic after the other and there was no excuse to remake songs - was
truly over.
The questions piled up and everyone was still bewildered. For
why would Basti Artadi, whose raspy voice was worth four NU107 Vocalist
of the Year awards, give up music? What was something more hair-raising
than performing onstage for thousands of moshing metalheads? Four
months after breaking the news, what is he doing now?
Artadi leapt from being a musician to a student and went
offstage to pursue another road. He is now taking up a master’s degree
in advertising at the Academy of Art in California. "I graduated with a
BA in Production Design. I’ve never really had an idea of what I wanted
to be growing up. It’s only recently that advertising struck me as
something I wanted to do with my life," Artadi said. This was not a
surprise to those who knew him.
Bash’s creativity isn’t limited to the musical context; he,
too, has a flair for writing, painting and graphic design, having made
the album cover for Wolfgang’s debut album.
Bash Artadi has never led a flashy lifestyle, even when
Wolfgang was considered the most intense and ferocious band of its
time. This explains his laidback life in the States right now, where
he’d rather kick back, listen to Iggy Pop and pay more attention to his
hobbies like diving and snorkeling. What is a day for this rock
demigod-turned-ad machine?
"Depends. I get up, go to work, talk crap with my crew.
Depends really but the bulk of it is smoking and talking and slagging
crap," Basti joked. He is happily married to his wife, Rizza, who is,
"the greatest thing to ever happen to me. She is my best friend, my
confidante, my adviser. We are constantly laughing and I never ever get
tired of her company."
Apparent how Basti Artadi is taking it slow. He gave himself
14 years in the limelight - for him, that was enough. His greatest
dream? Not to become the Alice Cooper of his time, not to play front
act for a Pearl Jam concert, but "a beach house back home - on the
beach at sunset with a cooler beside me, my wife and dog playing with
my grandchildren in front of me." Simple pleasures. Little joys.
Typical Basti Artadi.
Ditching the microphone mellowed Artadi down who, since 14,
had spent most of his energy head-banging, creating mass hysteria on
gigs and growling like a big bad wolf. In his farewell letter, he
offered his sincere gratitude to the people who rocked with him.
"To our fans, I wanna say thank you for making the hairs on
the back of my neck stand each and every time I walked out on that
stage. It was a pleasure screaming for you all. Thank you! Thank you!
Thank you!"
Cue in applause for this man, responsible for the collective
gooseflesh and gasps during concerts, whose intensity had ricocheted
from his vocal chords straight to the crowd and whose signature moves
onstage (remember his crazy neck movements?) are sorely missed.
