In professional wrestling, there's a term called ‘kayfabe’. That basically means staying in character. It’s sticking to your role, whether it’s an arrogant ladies’ man, a self-righteous environmentalist, or an undead bad-ass. Every action must fit that persona, even when you're being put in a rear naked choke or hit across the back with a steel chair.

In the same way, upstart Manila-based punk act The Ravelos practice kayfabe. According to the band, they're a group of superpowered misfits from the early 1980s. They were transported to 2019 via some kind of portal or wizard’s spell—they're not clear on how exactly it happened. Bottom line: they're here to fight supervillains, and to play three-chord punk songs about the state of The Philippines under President Rodrigo Duterte’s authoritarian rule. That's their story, and they're sticking with it.

The Ravelos first appeared in our timeline circa May this year. A veteran local comic artist (whose name rhymes with Chob Ram) drew an illustration of a punk band whose members were based on Filipino comic book heroes, all created by pioneering artist Mars Ravelo. Singer/guitarist Darnuh Vergara takes her cue from Darna—a transforming superheroine, often mistakenly touted as the Filipina version of Wonder Woman. The original artwork was part of #SigawDarna, an organic fan campaign to reinvent Darna for contemporary sensibilities. The Ravelos are rounded out by vocalist/axeman Flash Bombas, bassist Last Stick Man (inspired by rubber-limbed Lastikman), and drummer Kapitan Barbel (a pastiche of Captain Barbell, a metamorphing hero in the Shazam and henshin mold).



So far, so intriguing. But clever personas and a quirky backstory wouldn't mean a lot if they didn't have the musical skill to back it up. The identities of the actual performers is a poorly kept secret—just go to any of their shows to find out. Reliable sources claim that it may include members of seasoned independent acts like The Male Gaze, Cheats, and Boy Elroy. 

As for the songs? Well, listen to “Anuna?” (“Now What?”) for yourself:



Despite the raw-sounding mix (which may yet be another layer of their meta punk gimmick), it's clear they have legit grievances about very real issues. In the opening verse, Darnuh wails:

Walang tubig! (No water!)
Walang kuryente! (No electricity!)
Walang tulog! (No sleep!)
Walang diskarte! (No way out!)

It's a straightforward hit list of problems that Filipinos of all backgrounds can relate to. Then Flash responds:

Saan napupuntang mga buwis? (Where do our taxes go?)
Bakit ba tayo nagtitiis? (Why do we put up with this?)

It's a familiar refrain, in a year marked by water shortages, rolling blackouts, and a relatively volatile economic mood.

Despite its cheeky title, “Sino Bang Tatay Mo?” (loosely “Who's Yr Daddy?”), it appears to lament kids who’ve been orphaned by the state’s questionable drug war. Meanwhile, “Asan Na Si Bantay?” calls out Duterte’s puppy-like stance towards Beijing in the country's territorial dispute with China over the West Philippine Sea.


It's worth asking: why use made-up personas to express valid political statements? A more unfavorable critic might accuse the band of performing “wokeness” for the sake of it. Especially when their manager/”hype man” Deeng reads almost the same prepared spiels off his tablet during each show. At the very least, it's a risky move in a sub/culture that pays so much lip service to authenticity. 

However, it's difficult to fault the band after seeing the groups they've supported. In July alone, they’ve played at shows for groups committed to holding the government accountable for its violations. A few weeks ago, the Ravelos rocked out at a launch for Sauron, a comic zine documenting the massacre of organized farm workers in Negros. They followed that up with a gig supporting KOLATERAL—Sandata’s rap concept album, based on street-level data about state-approved vigilante killings. 

Even with the four-color alter-egos, The Ravelos’ act has the tacit blessing of groups who’ve done hands-on grassroots work with farmers and urban poor communities. That sounds pretty damn punk rock to me. 

layout adapted from NeoThemes