When the time the lights dimmed at the SM Mall of Asia Arena on Dec. 12, the first day of a two-day affair, it was already clear this wasn’t just another concert; it was an event — the kind where people keep glancing around as if to confirm that yes, this is really happening.

IV of Spades, back onstage together after five years apart, were about to play to a sold-out crowd, and the air carried that concrete mix of hope, nostalgia, and mild dread that the expectations might be impossible to meet. They weren’t.

A large part of that confidence came from knowing the show was in the hands of Karpos

Multimedia has a track record in mounting large-scale yet thoughtfully curated concerts that have reshaped the local live music landscape.

When Unique Salonga, Zild Benitez, Blaster Silonga, and Badjao de Castro finally took the stage and opened with “Monster” from their new album, the reaction felt less like applause and more like a collective emotional reset. This was the full lineup; no qualifiers, no nostalgia goggles required, and from the opening riffs onward, it became clear the band wasn’t interested in pretending time hadn’t passed. Instead, they leaned into it. 

The setlist unfolded like a natural progression of their past work. Statement. Staples such as “Sentimental” and “Hey Barbara” landed with the gravity of shared memory. Still, the newer material from Andalucia, including “Konsensya” and “Nanaman” didn’t feel like an interruption or a sales pitch. They were received with the same enthusiasm, sung back by a crowd that seemed to accept, almost instinctively, that this chapter belonged here too.

One of the night’s more thoughtful moves was the inclusion of songs from each member’s solo catalog. Unique’s “Sino,” Zild’s “Medisina,” and “Sensitive Sun” from Party Pace, Badjao de Castro’s band project that also featured Eraserheads’ Raymund Marasigan and Chicosci bassist Eco del Rio; they weren’t framed as detours. Instead, they acted as connective tissue, acknowledging that the years apart mattered, that the people onstage had changed, and that the reunion was stronger for it.

Midway through the concert, just when you think you’ve figured out the rhythm of the night.

The band did something entirely unexpected: they took a short break to play Tekken, live, on the MOA Arena screens. Thousands of people watched as the members went head-to-head in a round-robin match, which Badjao ultimately won, to no one’s real surprise and everyone’s delight. It was absurd, charming, and somehow perfectly on brand.

The energy shifted again shortly after as the band regrouped for a small acoustic set in the

middle of the arena, stripping everything down. In this more intimate pocket of the night, they performed acoustic renditions of tracks and even some unreleased songs, offered without spectacle or explanation. The arena, moments ago roaring over a fighting game, fell into a collective hush.

When the whole production kicked back in, the band seemed newly re-centered. Blaster’s guitar and Badjao’s percussion locked the songs into place, Zild moved with an ease that felt fully earned, and Unique’s guitars cut cleanly through the noise, pulling the crowd along with them as all four members showed off their vocal ranges at various points. Their chemistry wasn’t loud or performative; it was steady, confident, and unmistakably intact, with a personal highlight for me being a nine-minute rendition of “Mundo," now performed after so long by all four members in harmony and in pure rock bliss.

When the final notes faded of “Aura, the lead single off of Andalucia, the night ended not with fireworks or bombast, but with a slideshow projected on screen, thanking everyone involved in the production, from the crew and organizers to the people behind the scenes who made the scale of the show possible. It was a small but telling gesture, underscoring the camaraderie that defined the evening. This wasn’t just a band’s victory lap; it was a collective effort, acknowledged openly and warmly.

IV of Spades’ two days in the Mall of Asia Arena wasn’t just a comeback fueled by nostalgia; it was a statement of relevance. Social media lit up with familiar phrases: “once-in-a-lifetime,” “pure OPM magic,” “it’s like they never left.” Karpos didn’t just stage a comeback; they framed it, understanding when to let spectacle speak and when to step back entirely.

As the lights fully came up, Karpos left the crowd with a quiet reminder of what’s next: Men I Trust and Pixies, both slated for upcoming concerts under their banner in February and May, respectively. If the IV of Spades reunion was any indication, those shows won’t just be performances; they’ll be experiences carefully built with the same sense of care, trust, and understanding of what live music can still do when it’s treated as something more than content.

In the end, that may be the night’s most lasting impression: a band reunited, an audience fully present, and an entire local music ecosystem moving in sync; proof that when everyone involved believes in the moment, it becomes something unbelievable. (Ian Ureta)