'Shot puno!' How Mamamoo's Manila concert is objectively a spiritual experience
'Shot puno!' How Mamamoo's Manila concert is objectively a spiritual experience
Was it because Filipino MooMoos waited nine years for this? Was it because of the pandemic? In any case, the K-pop group's Manila stop just felt different.
'Shot puno!' How Mamamoo's Manila concert is objectively a spiritual experience
I wasn’t planning to write separately about the Mamamoo concert in Manila last night. The whole point of Nicksy Once Monthly is for me to write less and think more. That, and in the few times I have written about concerts on the old music blog, I felt that my attempts at reviewing live music were getting in the way of my enjoying the music itself—and this is especially pronounced when I’m watching acts that I’ve always liked.
Last night, I caught myself doing that several times. I wasn’t screaming like most of everybody else at the Smart Araneta Coliseum. And then I remember that I am preserving my energy because I was driving my friends back to their homes after the concert. And then there’s the fact that I was trying so hard to listen to the girls. Here’s Mamamoo, a K-pop group more known for their vocals than anything. I might as well try to get that.
But of course, you do get carried away.
It’s easy to call a concert a “spiritual experience”, especially if it’s you watching your favorite act. I would say that too, but I feel that the description is apt in every objective measure. Mamamoo have been together for nine years (Saturday marked the anniversary of their second pre-debut collaboration) and the number of their fans in the Philippines have been steadily growing since, and yet this is their first time in the country. Between that and the “revenge concert” phenomenon, there’s a lot of pent-up energy that just needs to be let out.
It’s not unusual for fan communities to come together in the weeks leading up to a concert. K-pop fan communities, in particular, would prepare activities and gimmicks alongside the actual concert. But the atmosphere felt like an art convention, in a good way. A lot of digital artist MooMoos gave away freebies—stickers, charms, banners—and some even came in costume.
Err, okay, so we were one of those in costume. When we bought the tickets two months ago Dale had the idea that we should go in prison outfits similar to what Mamamoo wore on their “Taller Than You” music video. We weren’t aiming to get noticed, I’d say, but she argued that a lot of people would come in radish onesies. Fans ended up asking for photographs during that awkward wait between the soundcheck party and the actual concert. Perhaps most satisfyingly, Mamamoo themselves noticed us during the concert.
To be fair, we were hard to miss. (Zoom in the first two photos and look for those splotches of orange.)
Perhaps it was also because we had good seats at one of the best live event venues in the country, but the energy also manifested itself differently. It did have a feel of a church service—and a lot of the fans haven’t been to church in a while. (I was the only one who hadn’t seen Mamamoo live among our party of four.) No memorized fan chants. Everyone was already lost in the moment even before the concert started. So it didn’t matter that this was just one of many concerts the group did in the past few weeks, with a setlist that most of those who watched already likely knew.
The best indicator, perhaps, is how visibly overwhelmed Mamamoo were. K-pop concerts tend to be heavily scripted—if only because the performers speak in Korean and someone has to read a translated version of their spiels to the audience—but there were several moments when the girls tried to hold back tears. (I must give credit to the guy who did the on-the-spot translations during the concert. We had to get used to them being in Filipino rather than English, but he did a good job conveying the emotion and not sounding like he was reading it off a piece of paper.) Solar and Hwasa, of course, budged easily. Moonbyul said as much. Even Wheein, who tried her hardest to move things along, couldn’t hold back.
To be certain, the group also brought fire to the stage. But then, most of us have watched clips of their live performances online, so we knew what to expect. “They ate the CDs” is a common refrain. You can forgive me for trying not to scream during the concert, right? I wanted to hear them.
But you get carried away. And, again, I am not just saying this because I was, am, a MooMoo.
Perhaps it’s because of how difficult the past few months were for me. But that concert was life-affirming. And yes, I am using that term. It was life-affirming. The concert version of “Wind Flower” they officially closed the concert with was life-affirming. The vibes from the sold-out night literally kept me awake for the next four hours as I waited for Dale to finish the send-off, and we entertained more requests for photos, and had a really late dinner, and I drove everyone to their homes.
To use a phrase that I saw on many fan banners in the lead-up to the event, and was said many (many) times by Moonbyul herself, “shot puno!” Everyone left with that.
Okay, for my readers outside the Philippines: “shot puno!” roughly means “full shot!”—drink a full shot of liquor. During the soundcheck party the girls asked for popular Filipino phrases, and someone in our row suggested that. At least that was the one that caught on. “Sanaol”—loosely “I hope all”—was also suggested, but that would’ve been really cringe-y, if you ask me. But that’s a minor quibble when you think about how Solar was shocked to hear fans use their hands and feet to applaud their performances, or how there was just an extra oomph in their fan service bits as the three hours went on. (Apparently, our concert clocked in an three hours and one minute, the longest of the tour.) So, you know, everyone left with hearts full, spirits high, you get the idea.
And… that’s it. That’s all this guy who did “Taller Than You” cosplay had to say about it. If, by any chance, you took a photo with us, can you show us? Thank youuu.