Little surprise that the confluence of Ghost Month and Mercury retrograde dredges up the unlikeliest memories. 

It was typhoon season in 2012 when we found ourselves at the newly opened Tago waiting for the downpour to subside after an ill-timed meetup with a handful of friends ran well into the night. Two things stood out in that flash from the past: how serene the reunion had been despite ample rounds of beer because we had enjoyed the performance of senior and upcoming jazz musicians having a blast duking it out, and when time came for that cigarette break al fresco, we beheld insane white-cap floodwaters surging right past the doorstep.

Nelson Gonzales, Tago owner and musician, watched the spectacle unfazed as he took a deep puff and said there was nothing like having jazz right where you could enjoy a watersport: “Saan ka pa—may jazz na, may resort pa!”

Several storms both metaphorical and literal have since rocked Tago and in the meantime, Nelson has become the incarnation of equanimity, ushering Tago into its 13th year. People of lesser stuff would have dropped the mic and cut their losses much sooner: Even the novelist Haruki Murakami folded up his cherished jazz bar Peter Cat (named in honor of his pet cat)—“the culmination of everything Murakami loved”—after seven years because running it had been a formidable challenge.  

But Nelson likes being known as “the crazy guy with a jazz bar” nearly as much as he enjoys walking the talk. Never mind that when he’s not on the drums on stage, he is also cook, dishwasher, and occasional janitor, on top of being Tago’s talent booker. Exactly as Murakami had had to “wash dishes, mix drinks, sweep, and book musicians.” 

For the love of people, music

“I love the people I’m with; I love the business to which I remain deeply committed,” Nelson says. He breaks out into a small laugh at my suggestion that he might yet pursue a career in creative writing should he choose to close shop for whatever reason: “I’m no Murakami—although at Tago, mura kami (we’re not expensive).”

That could well be true: Tago has competitive gate prices for thrice-weekly (Friday-Sunday) shows featuring top-tier jazz groups and artists. The menu is basic but hearty, the drink list spartan. But that’s not a knock on Nelson, who almost magically manages to make everything work to everyone’s satisfaction. He’s had tons of practice juggling the needful and the whimsical. He carved a space for Tago in 2010-11 with some (now former) business partners out of family property in a quiet residential area in Cubao, Quezon City, and opened the bar with the bare minimum of amenities for 20 people max—25 if you’re feeling chummy. Nelson called it “Tago” because “it’s in the middle of nowhere and nothing,” he explained in a recent online interview with an independent news outlet.

Well, until Waze came along, getting there had been a bit like playing the ultimate urban hide-and-seek. And while an address on 14 Main Avenue in Cubao is hardly “the middle of nowhere,” as a friend noted wryly, and especially since people kept being drawn to what was on offer—an increasingly diverse talent and audience pool that connected in exponentially unforeseen ways—the neighborhood bar eventually needed refurbishing. No one, least of all Nelson, thought that Tago would breach the four-year mark to become something of a jazz sanctuary. 

In April 2015, 14-time Grammy winner and jazz luminary Herbie Hancock, Unesco goodwill ambassador, acknowledged Tago’s untiring efforts to propagate the “universal jazz message of peace and harmony” in a letter addressed to Nelson. A writeup in the website for Unesco International Jazz Day (celebrated yearly across the world on April 30 since 2011) cited Tago for its dedication to “rebuild a healthy and viable jazz scene in the Philippines and provide an affordable venue for young audiences.” 

By this time Tago seemed to have its momentum on track, hosting open jam sessions that attracted even international jazz musicians passing through the country. The pressure to provide an improved space had gone up a notch and by early 2019, Tago was up for a much-needed makeover for which Nelson launched a crowdfunding campaign.

“Those times taught tough lessons,” he says, but if you were invested in it the way he was, it was just a matter of rolling with the punches without giving in to the urge to roll over. He never lost sight of why he’d taken the plunge in the first place: No other venue offered jazz the way he envisioned it should be on tap, and there was so much brilliance from both local and foreign talent that it would be a shame to let them go without a regular stage. 

Mission not quite impossible

One could even set aside the fact that Nelson is himself a musician, having played with indie rock bands from the ‘90s into the 2000s until he leaned deeper into jazz for its profoundly satisfying emotional and artistic returns. “Tago is [t]here to inspire people to lead meaningful and worthwhile lives through music,” he says, and to blow wide open “opportunities for learning, discipline, and passion.”  

The revamped Tago reopened in December 2019. In a few months, however, the Covid-19 pandemic would upend lives and livelihoods across the world, and like most other businesses, Tago bore the brunt of the lockdown. “Everything that I built and stood up for came to a halt,” he recalls. “Despite my efforts to keep the jazz scene alive through some livestreaming from Tago, the pandemic’s challenges understandably dampened enthusiasm and sapped everyone’s energy.”

Yet again, Nelson summoned his superpower—grin and bear it, because “fires either break or make us, and as long as you’re on your feet and able to do something to improve your situation, carrying on is the only option.” 

When asked by the online interviewer about Tago’s milestones, Nelson responded without hesitation: “Simply surviving from day to day has been a significant achievement.” This doesn’t mean, however, that he’s shelving long-term plans for the growing Tago jazz community, which include a Tago branch maybe south of Manila and setting up an institution that would offer jazz education and artist development programs. 

Nelson says he has spent nearly six years knocking on big music companies’ doors for some form of support, and the only one that’s come through so far is Yupangco Music, which provides Tago with pro-grade equipment. Working alongside him attending to back-office stuff and social media collaterals is his partner-in-crime Katherine. Nelson runs a tight ship, which is exactly how he likes things. 

There’s quite a way to go, but for now, Tago is doing better than good, with the variety in its talent lineup flourishing alongside its younger and curiouser audiences.

And yes, both Nelson and Hancock regard jazz as a powerful tool for living truthfully and honestly, and both believe it should be accessible to more people. As Hancock said in a recent interview with Eastside Radio 89.7 FM, a community radio station based in Paddington, Sydney, “Jazz has values; it teaches us to live in the moment, to work together and, above all, to respect the neighbor. When musicians get together to play together, you need to respect and understand what the other person is doing… Jazz makes people feel good about themselves.”

Read more: Portraits in Jazz: Alvin Cornista’s different worlds