Show 2: Arabian Nights (feat. James Taylor and His All-Star Band)

At night, my Dad, his boys, and Tita Hilda would occasionally set up karaoke sessions in which they would sing along to The Beatles, James Taylor and Supertramp. I remember the chorus of Lionel Richie’s “Hello” belted with the blunt Filipino accent that changes “F”s into “P"s:

“Hello, is it me you’re looking por? ‘Cause I wonder where you are…”

We were in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia.

And these are the earliest childhood memories that remain for me.

Moving to Saudi Arabia is apparently a lesser-known Filipino tradition, and having a passport that’s mostly written in Arabic supports that assertion. And while they wouldn't label it so, and while academics would label them as OFWs (Overseas Filipino Workers), my Dad and his friends were fundamentally migrant laborers.

For me, the journey of my family and the other Filipinos to Riyadh is proof that courage requires the push of fear. Their voyage makes me question why I have not moved away from the United States yet. Is it that I lack courage, or is it that I lack fear? Is it that I have already beat the odds in my own journey as undocumented immigrant child in the US to a debt-free, 21 year-old Ph.D. Candidate that I need not take on another challenge? Or maybe it’s simply that the Canadian government did not count all of my work experience to put  me over the threshold in their point system for a permanent residency visa? At the very least, I had the courage to apply to leave. But that can’t be as courageous as actually leaving, right?

What I do not question is the value of growing up in Riyadh, starting at four years old. I will forever recall that the first “strangers” I ever saw treat my family well were Arab, Muslim men. Forever I will feel the disappointment in comparing the smell of Popeyes chicken to the wafts of Nayzak chicken that still remain in my olfactory nerve. For eternity, I will remember that I first watched Mahjong being played by Filipinos in Saudi Arabia, including once in a sand dune on the way to Jeddah. Whenever I hear the first 30 seconds of the rap song “Allah U Akbar” by Brand Nubian, I will always remember the chants echoing in the open air and on the TV airwaves of Saudi Arabia. I now wonder how American music, especially Black American music that I would grow to love as an adult, was so accessible to Filipinos living in Saudi Arabia in the 1980’s. But what is clear is that I am eternally thankful to being exposed to the American pop/rock hits of the ‘60s, ‘70s, and early ‘80s while in Riyadh because that exposure helped to shape my diverse, eclectic musical taste.

And because of those karaoke nights, scented with fried chicken and scored with Filipino accents and mediocre falsetto, alto, and tenor notes, I will forever know the lyrics to James Taylor’s “Something in the Way She Moves”.

1980’s Saudi Arabia is my initial entry point to James Taylor, but my true immersion to his music came in the early 2000s. I bought the James Taylor “Live” CD for my father for his birthday. But secretly, it was also a gift for me. I wanted to listen to it in order to bring back some memories of Saudi Arabia. I used to place both disks of the set in my Aiwa boombox with the 3 CD changer.

On August 31, 2024, as we looked out towards the waters of Jones Beach on a humid night, a supercut of James Taylor live concert clips across the decades singing “Something in the Way She Moves” came on screen. And right before the last verse of the song, a 76 year old James Taylor emerged from behind the stage with a guitar, wearing a newsboy cap and a blazer, to finish singing the song.

We’re around him now, and we feel fine.

It’s followed by “Everyday”, and then later as he sits on a stool, the chills from the Long Island coast winds are replaced by the inner chills that always develop when I hear the first 20 seconds of “Copperline”. I have never been to the Chapel Hill area of North Carolina, but that song makes me want to visit there more than any Michael Jordan highlight ever will. His voice was strained with age, but there were still bursts of physical energy throughout the set. We even saw him hop around the stage towards the latter half of his set. What was constant was the timbre of a voice that has exuded soulfulness, craft, authenticity, and beautiful simplicity for over five decades.

The hits keep coming, “Sweet Baby James”, “Don’t Let Me Be Lonely”, his tribute to Martin Luther King and eternal call for unity, “Shed a Little Light”, and that other song about having [North] Carolina on your mind. 

I’m already gone. 

His voice was almost gone at certain points too. I could hear the vocal cords strain in the string of slow-tempo hits. He can hide it in a mid-tempo song supported by lively background singers, like “Shed a Little Light.” But on “Carolina on My Mind,” you can hear it. A 50+ year career, even with songs that hardly ever test upper registers or require vocal gymnastics, wears away at the voice. Father time is undefeated. During the show, I couldn’t help but think that we have 2 years maximum left to enjoy James Taylor touring. But given that he is nearing his 80s and still was singing entire songs, this was surely a winning performance. 

This was a “bucket-list” concert, and not solely because of James Taylor’s age. The idea of “kicking the bucket” is centered on death, but to me, I’m more concerned about no longer remembering those karaoke nights in Saudi Arabia. Not remembering is a specific type of death. Because I don’t remember my childhood in the Philippines anymore, I don’t feel like I was alive those first four years. I want to experience legendary artists before I forget more and more about my own life because the music of these artists provide the triggers to revive recollections. Their music allows me to connect as many points between seemingly unrelated experiences as possible. I feel the same about spending time with the people I care about the most. 

I’ve got a friend.

There’s only one person around my age I could take to the James Taylor concert: My best friend from college, Fran. The reasons are simple: He’s the only one I know with a more eclectic taste in music than me; He owns a James Taylor vintage t-shirt; and Jones Beach Theater holds another special concert memory- namely, a 2004 Sade concert.

There’s also another reason. Fran is Black. We both love Black music and all of the genres Black music has inspired.

James Taylor’s music is often labeled as Folk, Contemporary Folk, or Soft Rock. But his music also occupies a sub-genre I love: White music by White Artists that Black people love.

If you don’t believe me, let’s go back to 2011 when one of my favorite R&B/Soul duos, The Foreign Exchange, released a cover of "Something in the Way She Moves" as a single on June 28, 2011. A live version was included in their album, “Dear Friends: An Evening with the Foreign Exchange” but you can find a beautiful version of it on a vinyl of “Maybe She’ll Dream Of Me (Remix)” as a B-side. The lead singer of The Foreign Exchange is also one of my favorite rappers, Phonte Coleman of “Little Brother.”

If not Fran, then the only other choice would have been my Dad. 

The only other choice would have been my Dad.

Or Tito Oca. Or Tito Willy. Or Tito Nani.

But it isn’t their Saudi Arabia era anymore.

Those images, scents, and sounds of Saudi Arabia are the earliest vivid memories of home and joy I now have. The most I can remember of my birthplace, the Philippines, is that sometimes I would roll around in my sleep so much that I would wake up with small traces of red and brown stains on my back because I rolled over a mosquito or two. I also vaguely remember my family having two dogs as pets. But these memories of my homeland are too vague for me to hold on to.

For me, reconnection with my childhood starts with Saudi Arabia. And so whenever I hear my Dad reconnecting with his friends from Saudi Arabia, that is when I feel most at home and when I feel most appreciative for my Dad.

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Concert access & recaps:

If you missed out on our first free concert get together with Bilal, well… you missed out on free dinner afterwards also.

But for New York, we offer you another free concert at BAM w/ Yerba Buena’s Pedrito Martinez, a legendary Cuban percussionist, on Valentine’s Day eve. Sounds like the start to a perfect date night.

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Los Angeles fire relief:

1. Adobe, aside from donating $1 to relief efforts, is matching donations to the Entertainment Community Fund and California Community Foundation: Wildlife Recovery Fund

2. SBA disaster assistance is now available to Southern California businesses, homeowners, renters and private nonprofit organizations This covers Los Angeles and the contiguous counties of Kern, Orange, San Bernardino, and Ventura. Applicants may apply online and receive additional disaster assistance information at sba.gov/disaster. Applicants also may call SBA’s Customer Service Center at (800) 659-2955 or email [email protected] for more information on SBA disaster assistance.

3. MusiCares Foundation is offering $1,500 in financial assistance, $500 in food vouchers for music industry professionals: [email protected], 1-800-687-4227

4. Here’s a GoFundMe list to help the families rebuild in Altadena, CA

5. FEMA Assistance is available for residents impacted by LA County wildfires. Apply online at DisasterAssistance.gov, the FEMA app, or the FEMA Helpline at 1-800-621-3362 (Calls are accepted every day from 4 a.m. to 10 p.m. PST)

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About the author:

Cris is Founder/CEO of GrantAnswers, an NYC-based strategy, data, and product consultancy founded in 2013. His work has helped ventures scale nationwide and impacted 1000+ individuals in launching careers in tech and securing acceptances to top colleges/universities. Cris earned a BA in Psychology from CUNY and ascended as a 21-year-old Ph.D. Candidate in Criminal Justice at the CUNY Graduate Center. His speaking engagements for the likes of Columbia Business School, UCLA, Teach for America, and the US Chamber of Commerce encompass career development, entrepreneurship, and technology.

As an emerging writer, Cris integrates Philippine and Saudi Arabian migration, coming-of-age in NYC, and 25+ years of concertgoing to form deeply reflective, intimately vulnerable, and humorously adventurous stories through universal themes of family, freedom, loss, nostalgia, and technological advancement. His piece “Never Tell [A Lie]” is featured in PEN America’s World Voices Festival and the 2025 DREAMing Out Loud Anthology. His journey from immigrant child to award-winning entrepreneur and immigrant rights advocate has been highlighted in outlets such as NYT, WSJ, MTV, and Forbes.

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