The odds are that a majority of people subscribed to this site know this song and dislike it, and there is no changing that. There is, however, a tiny possibility of disliking it less after taking into consideration that it’s not a bad song to begin with, that more than anything it is a clever component of Daniel Padilla’s branding, whose popularity, along with his love interest, Kathryn Bernardo, has hit the public with surprise, then several months later, with annoyance, understanding, and lastly, resignation.
It is an aspect of Filipino fanaticism that requires every budding love team to have a signature song. From Guy and Pip to Vi and Bobot, there is that tune that fans would love seeing them sing. It’s an element that reinforces the relationship onscreen and off-screen, a reminder of happily ever after, a piece of property that only they and their fans own and can’t be pilfered. “Nasa Iyo Na Ang Lahat” is successful in that regard, a huge step in making their persona needless of any introduction.
Composer Jungee Marcelo is beholden to the idea of old-fashioned courtship, Daniel wooing Kathryn with sugary words and wallowing in repetition, Kathryn an idea waiting to come to life, Daniel, the smooth operator, being able to charm her, to possess her. It is a declaration of love, no less, no struggle, no pain, no bridge, obsessed with the surface, every words knocking on its exterior. It is monotonous, but trained ears are aware of limitations being observed to reach a far greater payoff. Although it provides a decent hook, the ukulele serves largely as an accessory, to show off coolness.
All this, of course, curtsies to the fact that the only thing that songs of this type need is personality, and Daniel, regardless of vocal ability, is loved for his smugness, that demeanor he seems to have borrowed from his uncle Robin Padilla, and “Nasa Iyo Na Ang Lahat” befits that character. Even using a figure of speech as defense, Kathryn can’t possibly have everything, right? But he only says it to append that phrase—“pati ang puso ko”—to reference himself, to tie the stem of a cherry with his tongue. How naively romantic is that? Who needs maturity in this context?
It’s a trade that attaches more importance to packaging than content, especially in this business where it’s always wiser to focus on presentation, so there are value meals, complementary goods, and all sorts of bargaining. At Daniel’s birthday concert in Araneta Coliseum a few months ago, which aired on national television last weekend, thousands of fans were screaming despite his obvious pitch problems. They were openly happy. They looked at the camera with pride and satisfaction, attributing to this teenager the exhilaration often reserved for works of art, for massive entertainment. When he sang “Nasa Iyo Na Ang Lahat” to Kathryn onstage, they went crazy, their delight so difficult to contain. One wonders: How can some people think these fans are mistaken? How can a cultural phenomenon be wrong? How unthinkable is music without these snatches of youthful hysteria?