Still standing at 40: Why The Dawn is rocking with ballet—and why it makes perfect sense
If you’ve ever sung along to a song you didn’t realize was by The Dawn, you’re not alone.
For many younger listeners, The Dawn’s music has lived a second (or third) life—played at rallies, covered by new artists, sampled in playlists—often detached from the band behind it.
But in 2026, the iconic OPM rock group is stepping into a moment that reconnects sound, story, and staying power.
On Feb. 20 and 21 at Aliw Theater, The Dawn marks the kickoff of its 40th year in the music industry with The Dawn of Ballet, a collaboration with prima ballerina Lisa Macuja-Elizalde and Ballet Manila.
Rock music meets pointe shoes. Guitars meet choreography. And somehow, it works.
Day zero: Before the legacy, there was a college kid
When singer Jett Pangan thinks about 40 years of The Dawn, his mind doesn’t jump to sold-out shows or iconic songs. It goes back to one room, one audition, one moment.
“For me, it was always day zero—when I auditioned to be the vocalist in 1986,” he recalls. “I remember walking in, pretending to know what I was doing, but also feeling very hopeful.”
Back then, he was just a college kid who wanted to be in a band. What he didn’t expect was longevity.
“I didn’t think we’d last this long,” Pangan admits. “Or that I’d still be here, singing for the band.”
Guitarist Francis Reyes remembers those early days, too: posters on campus, loud guitars, the sense that something different was forming.
“It’s a little shocking that it has been 40 years,” Reyes says. “It doesn’t feel like it. Ang bilis ng panahon.”
Bassist Bim Yance, ever the comic relief, sums it up bluntly: If The Dawn were a person, “nagmi-midlife crisis na yan. Buti na lang cool kaming lahat.”
The secret to staying relevant
Four decades in music is rare. Staying meaningful across generations is even rarer.
According to Pangan and Reyes, The Dawn’s longevity didn’t come from trying too hard to stay relevant. “We don’t chase relevance,” Reyes says. “Even when we experiment, we make sure it still sounds like us.”
Pangan points to something more organic: evolution. “The change of members played a role,” he explains. “Each new person brought fresh ideas, a fresh sound. That kept the music alive.”
Yet despite lineup changes, there’s something listeners still recognize instantly. “There’s a ‘Dawn sound,’” Reyes says. “Even we can’t fully explain it. But people hear it and go, ‘That sounds like The Dawn.’”
That core, he adds, comes from the band’s foundation: the late Teddy Diaz’s insistence on originality. “You don’t contribute something pedestrian,” Reyes says. “That spirit stays, no matter who comes in.”
Emotion first, always
If The Dawn’s songs feel emotional, that’s not accidental.
“Yes, it’s intentional,” Pangan says. “We want intensity. We want the song to carry us, especially live.”
Good music, the band agrees, has to move the artist first. “If you’re not moved by your own music,” Pangan adds, “you can’t expect the audience to feel anything.”
That emotional honesty is why the band still revisits deep cuts, why rehearsals still matter, and why—even after 40 years—they practice like it’s day one.
Enter ballet: Curiosity, honor, and a little fear
When the idea of collaborating with Ballet Manila first came up, the band didn’t react with skepticism, but with awe.
“My admiration for Ballet Manila went through the roof,” Pangan says. “I was like, ‘They want to do this with us?’”
The idea of classical ballet interpreting aggressive Filipino rock felt unexpected, and that’s exactly what intrigued them. “We know ballet as very traditional,” Reyes explains. “So for them to think outside the box, to invest in this—it’s an honor.”
For The Dawn of Ballet, the band isn’t just playing their hits. They’re rearranging them, reshaping the music so it can live through bodies in motion. “We’re not softening everything,” guitarist Sancho Sanchez says. “Because if you do that, that’s not us anymore.”
Instead, the band describes the process as creating terrain. “We made a landscape for the dancers to walk on,” Pangan says.
They don’t pretend to know what the final visual will look like, but that’s part of the excitement. “I expect to be surprised,” Reyes says.
At their core, the band believes music and ballet speak the same language. “Rhythm. Meter,” Reyes says simply, and then he goes deeper: “With music, you’re sculpting the air. Ballet does the same thing.”
That shared foundation—discipline, timing, emotional precision—is why the collaboration feels natural, not forced.
Choosing art, again and again
So what does it mean to keep choosing their art, 40 years in?
For Pangan, it’s gratitude, and refusing to take the band for granted. “I don’t want to wake up one day and think, ‘Ah, ito na naman,’” he says. “Projects like this keep us on our toes. They keep it fresh.”
For Reyes, it’s simpler. “I chose music many years ago,” he says. “What I’m doing now is standing by that choice.”
And for Sanchez and Yance? “Hintayin niyo kami sa 50th!” they say, laughing.
With The Dawn of Ballet, The Dawn proves that longevity isn’t about nostalgia. It’s about curiosity, courage, and the willingness to keep moving; whether through sound, through silence, or now, through dance.
Follow Ballet & Ballads on Facebook for updates on how to sign up for free tickets to The Dawn of Ballet.