After the release of her single “Bakunawa,” artist Ruby Ybarra reflects on where Filipino-American music has come from and where it’s headed.Ruby Ibarra’s latest music video “Bakunawa” begins with a shiver and ends with a shock. A white-haired woman sitting at a rocker tells the story of Bakunawa (the crooked serpent, the moon eater, the cause of natural phenomena). The camera soon reveals the woman to be June Millington, though it focuses on her hands, mouth, and feet, without showing her entire face.
After watching the documentary Fanny: The Right to Rock, I was immediately struck by the importance of this collaboration. June Millington and her sister Jean were part of the pioneering all-female rock group Fanny. The band broke all the rules in the early 1970s, playing major venues and opening for the likes of Deep Purple, Steely Dan and Jethro Tull. They weren’t a made-up pop group. The girls wrote their own music, were masters of their instruments, and ignored the gender expectations of the time. Oh, and they were Filipino immigrants too.
June Millington, Weida, Ruby Ybarra, Han Han. Photo by Mikayla Swiper Delson
Although Fanny achieved some success and recognition during their five years together, the band seemed erased from musical history. Even David Bowie told Rolling Stone in 1999: It just wasn’t their time. ” Fanny’s resurgence began in 2018 when the original members reunited to record a new album, followed by a Bobby Joe Hart documentary released in 2021.
Near the end of the film, the female rockers, now in their 60s and 70s, perform live together for the first time at a small venue in California. Ruby Ybarra, who was in the audience, was interviewed and asked for comment. “As a young woman of color and a Filipino, when I learned about Fanny’s music and their accomplishments, I was just frustrated that I didn’t know about them sooner,” she said. say. “I think everyone needs to know their name. They should be a band name that everyone knows.”
Ruby Ibarra’s journey from the Philippines to California, 30 years in between, is similar to that of the Millington sisters. They both found a place to express themselves through music, with June and Gene in rock music and Ibarra in hip-hop. “It’s a big challenge[for Filipinos]to break through the American media, but it’s hard to believe that artists living in a completely different political and social environment in the 1970s made similar progress. ,” Ibrala told me. “And if you think about it, those barriers still exist. It felt very fitting to collaborate not just with me, but with new artists and pioneers like Weida and Han Han. I thought it was very fitting to put this side by side. It’s great to show people that this is where Filipino-American music comes from and it’s here to stay.”
“Bakunawa” music video. Photo by Mikayla Swiper Delson
The music video ends with Ibarra spewing poetry in English, Tagalog, and Visayan, and just as she ends with the lyrics, “Bring back the new moon,” a wide shot shows Ibarra on her baby’s butt. You can see her hugging her. That’s one way to announce your pregnancy.
“Bakunawa” is the first single from her upcoming second album, which will be released through Bolo, a record label she founded that focuses on Filipino-American artists in the Bay Area. The album represents a change from her 2017 debut Circa 91, which primarily centered around the immigrant experience. After finding out she was pregnant earlier this year, Ruby feels the album has changed as well. “The first album was a love letter to my mother and our immigrant experience. The next one was like a love letter to my daughter, the legacy I wanted to leave behind, the message I wanted to share with her, and hopefully when she became my daughter. I think I wrote about a topic that I wish I could discuss more thoroughly when I get older.
Ibarra’s approach to songwriting changed as well. One of her most popular songs, “Us,” was seen as a celebration of sisterhood and female empowerment. Now that her daughter is on the way, Ibarra feels like she’s about to forget everything she thought she knew. “I find myself wondering if what I’m saying makes sense enough, if it’s meaningful, if it’s something I would want to share with my own daughter,” she reflects. “I need to redefine for myself what it means to feel empowered and what it means to empower other women through the lens of my daughter. It is.”
Ruby Ibarra. Photo by Mikayla Swiper Delson
Even if these mean her lyrics are less aggressive, they never diminish their strength or pride. The idea to explore Bakunawa mythology came during the pandemic when she started watching and reading Filipino folklore, especially the Trese series. For a Visayan, the story of the serpent and the dragon swallowing the six moons was a natural draw for her. But Ruby wanted to turn that around by embodying feminine power, traditionally characterized as a dark and malevolent creature.
Ibarra also emphasizes the importance of having Filipino talent behind the camera, like cinematographer Desir Lacap, who worked with the rapper to direct the video. “When it comes to storytelling, it makes all the difference in the world. I’ve always been a big advocate of writing and creating the stories yourself, not just being represented in them.”
Now that her daughter is on the way, Ibarra feels like she’s about to forget everything she thought she knew. “I wonder if what I’m saying is what I want to tell my daughter.” Photo by Mikayla Swiper Delson
A few weeks after we spoke, Ruby, who would have been 36 weeks pregnant, headlined the Island Women Rise concert in Los Angeles, complete with a full moon. This was supposed to be her last show of the year as she slows down to prepare for her new life. One audience member described the show as “therapeutic” and “empowering,” adding, “Incredible Filipino rappers. No one ever mentions their subordinates, and the host… They are speaking to the community and lifting up the cause we need and want right now.”
Diaspora Filipinos have had to build their own communities while trying to maintain connections with their heritage and culture. This struggle is part of the reason Ibarra co-founded Boro Music Group last year. “I don’t think it can be achieved by just one artist. I don’t think it can be achieved by just 10 Filipino artists,” she says. Rather, Ruby sees this as an ongoing movement of Filipinos opening doors to each other. “It’s all because we contribute to the global conversation of raising our fists high and being proud of who we are.”
