Written by Noelle Alarcon In Parti.’s latest single “Breach,” the vibrations of sound speak for themselves, urging you to tap into your latest instincts. The waves of emotion that wash over in all six minutes and 31 seconds of the track do not yearn to be explained or interpreted. But rather, this smorgasbord of instrumentals is an open avenue. “Breach” is inspired by artists like Pierce the Veil and Death Cab for Cutie, which is sonically apparent in its hard-hitting riffs and rich solos that add texture to the layers of aggressive percussion and brief moments of quiet that build up to consecutive peaks of release; of emancipation. In a way, a song is typically structured, there would be a climax that awaits the listener, or pauses of one’s breath to punctuate their words. Parti. breaks away from this mold altogether, engulfing you in the charm of “Breach’s” unpredictability. You never know when the fullness of sound is going to start staggering, going up and down your ears, or when an incomprehensible voice note is about to weigh on its sonic atmosphere. Keeping the listener on their toes while remaining audibly cohesive shows the band’s dedication to mastering their craft. Despite only having three singles in their roster so far, Parti. already has such a strong sonic identity. Wherever “Breach” is breaching into, it’s definitely an inviting welcome into Parti.’s “instrumental-experimental post-hardcore na medyo math” world. SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST:
Author: Louis Pelingen
TRACK REVIEW: dear fr1end – VOICEMAILS
Written by Aly Maaño From his pop-rock roots as Abcd’s frontman, Darwin Dela Rosa embodies a different persona in his solo project, dear fr1end. In his debut single, “VOICEMAILS.” Darwin explores the midwest emo and pop punk territory, with heartbreak and longing as its main themes. It begins with a recorded phone conversation between two people who are evidently on the brink of ending their relationship. In between denial and bargaining, a jangly guitar intro can be heard, capturing that signature Midwest emo sound akin to the twinkly guitar elements of math rock. This forms the precedent of the song’s whole storyline: a person caught in the throes of a breakup, and is still holding on. As the verse explodes with a full swing of instruments, Darwin’s anguish-riddled voice perfectly reflects the protagonist’s emotional state. The track continues on a faster tempo, shifting more to the pop punk side with strong, prominent drums that break into clean, jangly riff solos at the right moment. At this point, the narrator continues to send voicemails to his ex-partner as a way to comfort himself rather than an attempt to bring her back. As if to mirror his sorrow, the song deviates once more to a slower pace, accentuating its cycling guitar parts and melodies. Having gone through all the stages of grief, the song collapses into a chilling guitar solo until the beep of an unanswered phone fades into silence. In its entirety, “VOICEMAILS” is the type of music you play on your car while driving to the only 7-11 in your rural town at 2 a.m. The lyrics aren’t gut-wrenching, but bleak enough for any listener to reminisce about that one failed relationship (or situationship). The song’s lack of a chorus doesn’t make it less catchy or memorable; it highlights Darwin’s ability to tell a consistent narrative from start to finish. Like a long-distance pen pal, one may wonder what other heartfelt stories dear fr1end will share through his music. SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST:
TRACK REVIEW: Kartell’em – KITBA
Written by Noelle Alarcon In hip-hop, you can’t just drop your words and hope they’ll stick to the beat. It is audible when you don’t mean what you say; the presence (or lack thereof) of bravado alone is enough to make or break a track. In Kartell’em’s latest single, “KITBA,” they have enough bravado to last a lifetime. That much is evident in the swagger that kicks off the song. “Kartell’em in this bitch again!” expects you to have heard of their name, of their achievements, of what they’ve gone through as a group. There’s a certainty–a sense of security in who they are as artists, that floats through its five-minute runtime. The beat may be easygoing, but it lends itself to acting as a canvas for the bars that each collaborator of Kartell’em drops. Each verse is full of personality, with those of Ne7in and Wavyier’s being incredibly tongue-in-cheek–making milli’s and poking fun at titos really put it all together. As ridiculous as some lyrics may seem, Kartell’em never takes themselves too seriously–and that truly grounds them in their suave, signature cool. “KITBA” is straightforward, animated by its clever variations in flow–because how else would you rhyme “play” with “play” and still make it sound interesting? As direct as it is, however, it does leave you hungry for more; looking for a climax or a switch-up–a bit of a palate cleanser in the strings of sentences about abundance. It’s a track with a loud bark, with the potential to have a firmer bite. SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST:
ALBUM REVIEW: NEW LORE – grief cake
Written by Gabriel Bagahansol In late 2024, the band formerly known as No Lore released its final single under that name: a cover of Callalily’s 2006 classic “Magbalik” transformed into epic synthpop. Towards the end of the track, we hear frontwoman Tita Halaman deliver a rap verse on letting go of a troubled past and moving forward, adding an element of progression to a song of someone hopelessly saving what’s left of a dysfunctional relationship. By this point, No Lore was at a crossroads. Their music seemed tangled between the band’s roots as a guitar-based indiepop duo—and the organic but staid identity that comes with it—and a whole new lineup as a trio moving towards something else. With new creative impulses that appear to be at odds with the limiting nature of the band’s origins, letting go was something Tita Halaman, along with new members Kim and Carole, needed to do in order for them to fully embrace the ethos they now want to embody in their art. With a crashing crescendo that petered out into synth tones and beeps, No Lore was no more. Eight months later, after subsequently re-emerging as the electropop band NEW LORE, the three-piece would release their debut album ‘grief cake.’ Now operating from a clean slate, the members of NEW LORE paint glossy electropop soundscapes across this new batch of songs. The bright synths and saturated textures illuminate Tita Halaman’s straightforward and dynamic lyricism on navigating adulthood and its many tricks while drawing strength from the sincerity and frankness of one’s inner child. If the “Magbalik” cover was the death and burial of something that had run its course, the opening track “OH MATURITY” is the first step in rebuilding oneself. Free from the limited palette No Lore’s artistic identity afforded, the music bursts with a renewed sense of energy, as though a floodgate had been opened for a creative catharsis that is heard all throughout the album. That’s not to say there aren’t any growing pains, though: while Tita Halaman is eager to reflect on her past and become more optimistic and self-aware in her relationships, in the chorus, she laments the slow pace of these changes. On the breezy synthpop track “LOVING, HURTING,” Tita Halaman acknowledges that love can last in the belief that people can move past the mistakes they’ll inevitably make to each other. With the sound of a band that has immediately succeeded in working with their new sound, these two songs are a welcome introduction into the world of NEW LORE. NEW LORE’s embrace of electropop means they can now let the music add dimension to the stories they tell. On “DIRTY” and “GOODSIDES,” a pair of songs that tell contrasting views on trust and acceptance, the instrumentation is clear, dynamic, and colorful. This new approach helps us get a glimpse inside Tita Halaman’s mind as she tells these tales, particularly on “GOODSIDES,” where sweeping synths swell over an R&B beat that intensifies her wail of disappointment over someone she thought she knew well. Another example of the chemistry of words and sound that NEW LORE successfully blends throughout this album is “TRAFFIC,” where minor and major keys weave together as Tita Halaman sings about dancing to the radio with a lover while stuck in a traffic jam. Meanwhile, on the album highlight “WHO HURT U,” Tita Halaman’s words for an adversary are complemented by a dance punk groove that gives the song power, urgency, and fun. If the previous track sought an escape from lethargy, this one is the gas pedal push that’ll help you face your toughest moments headfirst with a sneering brave face. But the thread of life’s dualities continues to run through the album, and it culminates on the title track and album closer “GRIEF CAKE.” Here, Tita Halaman weeps for the end of a relationship she had fought so hard to keep alive. After trying to seek maturity, and now having gone through a bitter split, Tita Halaman has come to the realization that she is “just a kid,” making this one-half of a pair of songs — with the same key and tempo and all — that bookend this album. With ‘grief cake,’ the members of NEW LORE have given a nuanced take on growing into the many sides of adulthood, leaving no definitive answers when it comes to dealing with negativity, and instead calling on you to just have fun and never hold yourself back. It just makes sense why this album is named that way, and it also makes sense why the serious, sedate stylings of No Lore had to be forsaken for the urgent burst of freedom in NEW LORE. In early 2025, the band unveiled their new identity with “AMBITIOUS,” later the penultimate track on this album. It was the right way to kick off NEW LORE’s new story: its lyrics about shifting into new and exciting shapes, with an optimism punctuated by a sunny synthwave beat, is the ethos with which this remarkable re-debut was successfully built on. Reinvention shouldn’t have to come at the expense of your whimsy. In fact, it may just be the very thing that’ll get you there. SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST:
ALBUM REVIEW: Hazylazy – ANTAGONISMS
Written by JK Caray Hazylazy, Laguna-based virtuoso Jason Fernandez’s solo project, is an indie darling. His first EP, ‘The Resentment Segment’ in 2020, has since become a classic that captured the stark isolation brought upon by the pandemic blues. In the following years, the soloist had everyone’s ears on him, waiting for another release. What’s next, we collectively wondered. It wasn’t until 2025 that we finally heard a response, culminating in Hazylazy’s debut album ‘ANTAGONISMS.’ ‘ANTAGONISMS’ thrives within its lush instrumentation. Experimenting further on that hazy, dreamy sound, the album is a spiritual successor to the 2020 EP, but given more space to grow. If ‘The Resentment Segment’ bordered claustrophobic territory at times, ‘ANTAGONISMS’ flourished in its own peculiar world. Hazylazy’s vocal performance here remains static and unchanged, but he’s never been one to focus on one component more than his overall sound direction. The DIY elements of the production carry a fuzzy nostalgic sound; bringing up scenarios of indoor plastic playgrounds, liminal neon arcades, and vast green valleys under vibrant cerulean skies, only existing within its hazy, fever-dream-like wall of distortion-heavy guitars and reverberating drums. Over the course of the album, the tracks center around Hazylazy’s internal struggles. Perhaps this is another understanding of the album title ‘ANTAGONISM,’, a play on the indifference of airing out one’s inhibitions. For example, the track “WAKE AND FLAKE” talks about escapism from the mundane life and the unbreakable cycle it creates. The rest of the album operates at the same tone, glum yet desperately hopeful. A few lines from “CHASING MY TAIL” sum it up the best: “No sight of reason—No right demeanor, Believing there’s no one to hold onto. ‘Cause I wanna get my whole life together”. A record like ‘ANTAGONISMS’ happens whenever a 1:1 rendition of an artist’s idea is executed. It’s an accomplishment when an artist creates their own worlds, but to convey it in its purest form is a feat that only a few can do. In this case, it works because the album is by far the most potent version of Hazylazy. A release so personal and unapologetic, it created a portal to a land that used to only exist within his mind. Transcendental and mystical, it’s clear from the start that ‘ANTAGONISMS’ does not belong in the world we reside in. SUPPORT THE ART & THE ARTIST: ANTAGONISMS by hazylazy
ALBUM REVIEW: Lola Amour – Love on Loop
Written by Adrian Jade Francisco Nearly a decade into their career, septuplet pop-rock Lola Amour became an act you would hear anywhere. Like any other band, their breakthrough came only when lightning struck—and it poured. The “Raining in Manila” fever took over the Philippines as the rainy season did. Syncopated brass, snappy basslines, and everywhere you turned, you’d hear “It’s been raining in Manila, hindi ka ba nilalamig?” Now, with Lola Amour’s reach extending to a wider audience, their once-local charm began to take on a metamorphosis in ‘Love on Loop.’ The act decides to groove unmistakably pop, for better or worse, under a runtime of thirty minutes. Unlike their previous releases, the groovy, jam-like jazz fusion detours are almost nowhere to be found across the band’s sophomore album. If Lola Amour’s 2024 self-titled album was their ticket to the mainstream, ‘Love On Loop’ showcases how they navigate their pop sensibilities. The production is pressed into something unrecognizably sleek; their penchant for cheesy lyrics remains intact, but a part of their previous refined sonic identity moves away. Supplanted by drum machines and a noticeable absence of the explosive instrumental sections that once defined their sound—a tilt toward a polished pop direction. While “Raining in Manila” anchored the ensemble’s ability as a cohesive band, the tracks on ‘Love On Loop’ strip away that dynamic to the point where the group feels almost unrecognizable in “One Day Away” or “The Moment.” On the other hand, “Misbehave” and “Dance With My Mistakes” slip into more recognizable arrangements, attempting to assert the band’s reinvention. They throw in funky jabs with a pop-oriented sensibility, while the title track, “Love On Loop,” flirts with bossa nova rhythms. However, for all its catchiness, it lacks the space for Lola Amour to feel loose—to hear their dynamic as a band. There’s a fragile equilibrium at play, tapping into their potential as a mainstream outfit under producers Hyuk Shin and CUURLEYOn, but shedding much of the group’s defining sonic character throughout the album. It’s a balancing act between identity and accessibility, coming at the cost of the interplay that once gave them their edge. Lola Amour proves their pop instincts are sharper than ever, but they lose the very friction that once made them compelling. ‘Love On Loop’ is a confident leap toward the mainstream—one that brings only half of the band’s heart along for the ride. SUPPORT THE ART & THE ARTIST:
EP REVIEW: Bins – The Body Project
Written by Rory Marshall Picture this: a packed dance floor, dim lights, and an intoxicating aroma of smoke and sweat.That’s what’s in store in Pasig-based DJ Bins’ new EP ‘The Body Project.’ This project follows his 2024 debut release “Purgation / On The Upswing” and with it comes a hypnotizing collection of trance-house tracks masterfully crafted to hijack your body’s motor functions, so you can’t help but pick up your feet and move to the rhythm. Spanning across 4 tracks, ‘The Body Project’ showcases the hypnosis of Trance and House, with each song having its own roadmap for body movement. Bins’ shows that the magic of his style of the genre lies in House’s simplicity. Each track keeps it steady with a mellow-paced beat set to 4/4, and ambient synths and sound effects are expertly placed throughout the song to add to the buildups and the comedowns. The atmosphere his tracks create is nothing short of enthralling, and it’s apparent to any listener, regardless of whether they’re familiar with the genre, that Bins knows what it takes to make you lose yourself in the thumping of the beat. Bins has a penchant for soul which he incorporates proudly in his music which is a wonderful yet fitting twist to the House genre. This is seen in tracks like “Body Satisfaction” and “Forever Chemical” with features like a funky guitar riff and psychedelic-esque synths. It’s reminiscent of the glamorous disco scene of the 70s but built for the modern era. ‘The Body Project,’ being only the second ever official release for Bins, is almost unbelievable when considering the quality of the tracks. His sound is a testament to his assuredness and belief in his own style of music production, and really shows how much he planted his feet on the ground and picked a direction for his style. The House is certainly here to stay with talents like Bins in the helm. SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST: The Body Project by Bins
ALBUM REVIEW: Djuno – Moonrats
Written by Louis Pelingen What is fascinating about acts that produce music in their bedroom or home studio is the limitation that comes with it: they rely on spare equipment, the ideas in their head, and the sheer will to put something out while letting the raw essence of their music come to life. A common occurrence these days, especially once you dig into a site like Bandcamp, but there are times when the music that was made is filled with intriguing ideas, both in the composition and the writing. Formed through a 10-year-old rusty MacBook, their love for rats, and their set of guitars, koto, and violins, Djuno spawns ‘Moonrats,’ a record that tousles within homespun spaces, tapping into indietronica, folk, and alternative rock that is cobbled together by Djuno’s dedication to create something out of their resources. Creating ramshackled compositions that their voice plays into really well, sounding like a singer-songwriter that came out of the ’90s. “Maura Crushed” plays into this in a straightforward direction, with fingerpicked guitars nestling their bare vocals within a coddling atmosphere. But things get interesting once Djuno starts toying around with production. Modifying their voice to sound more blurry, synths and samples chop off or pop into the mix, playing with the mixing in sync with the lyrics; an intended effect that adds more across Djuno’s well-considered melodies and performances. “Beak” comes through with gentle strings and acoustics, but gets sonically interjected everytime they proceed to a certain phrase; “Mentol Song, Dead Horse” submerges into indie rock rubble before letting the synths take over, their voice always shifting throughout, same case goes for “Otkah” that wades across a raw start accompanied by a digital organ, a burly guitar passage that cuts off into choppy vocal stutters, just before ending things off with a string section; “Slump” takes things on a off-kilter segway, layering spare melodies on top of this uneasy text to speech audio, until noisy guitars rupture and then interestingly sampled to tie the song together; and “Prarie Dogs” finishes the record with its 8-minute climax, starting with simple acoustics gradually going through its rush of highs and lows, implementing pummeling drums, wheeling violins, and boiling riffs along the way. The intent for the mix eventually pinpoints their conflicting identity with Mina that stirs within their writing. Djuno’s love for singer-songwriters—inspirations such as Elliott Smith or Cameron Winter definitely show in spades—shines through in how they write words and phrases, filling the arc with macabre imagery on one hand and metaphors that flow with absence and emotional decay. It’s a characteristic that keeps following Djuno and Mina, where at first, the shift in voices interprets who is singing. The bare vocals represent Djuno, and the processed vocals come from Mina. A back and forth in trying to separate from one another and travel to a place where Djuno and Mina can be safe and sound. Yet, in reading between the lines, it becomes clear that Djuno and Mina are the same person. Mentions of reflections and limbs make it clear enough: a push-and-pull between identities that care deeply and who push themselves down. It creates the eventual insight where they can’t separate one another because they need each other. To be Djuno or Mina doesn’t matter; what’s important to them is to be elsewhere. Never lying dormant in one space, the process of leaving for somewhere unknown can be scary, but worthwhile. They do have themselves in the end, after all. With this much thought, it lights up ‘Moonrats’ with so much detail that’s worth looking into, where every bit and piece across its songwriting, sonic palette, and performances become purposeful as a whole. Despite still carrying the singer-songwriter inspirations that can still be refined upon, there’s no denying that Djuno has something going for it in the long run, even despite their initial struggles that come from working on the album on a decade-old MacBook. Just like the moonrat, it may be easy to catch what’s going on, but listen closely, and you’ll find more rawness that’s worth looking into. SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST: Moonrats by djuno
EP REVIEW: Megumi Acorda – Sun Blanket
Written by Noelle Alarcon Dream pop quintet Megumi Acorda has come a long way since their debut EP ‘Unexpectedly,’ released in 2018. Said EP turned the five-piece into one of the most quintessential introductions to the local underground, best known for their ability to capture the sound of heartbreak and longing. This time, with the launch of their latest EP ‘Sun Blanket,’ Megumi Acorda is still the face of the enigmatic ache that comes with yearning, just with the warmth of the sun possessing each track now. It’s evident in the way they changed up the pangs of their hazy, jangle pop-influenced releases with grittier, power pop-derived riffs and more beats per minute than usual. Megumi Acorda’s use of guitars is known for its capability to audibly spell out what it means to pine; to set your heart on someone (or something). The signature fuzziness of their riffs is often praised thanks to the complexities of sound the pedals are able to concoct. There’s a richness in their instrumentals, humming low and fully, that vibrates at the same frequency as the listener’s deep-seated, unspoken feelings. The band is able to shine on such feelings with their light, pulling you out of the darkness. In this EP, the strings don’t drive for the entirety of the songs; they’re happy to be along for the ride. Albeit the simplicity, the licks are just as impressive and catchy as heard in the energetic opening of “Task Kitty (Save Me)” and the jumpy drag along the frets that beep around in “YRU.” Sporadic poppiness aside, when the tempo slows down, the classic Megumi Acorda sound is more apparent. The tracks teeter along a journey of acceptance and fulfillment; the rhythm section and the occasional flourishes that accompany it are telling points of inflection. There are drum fills and basslines bouncier and more jittery than you’d expect from Megumi Acorda, like the bright icebreaker for “Soft Pins.” When it comes to songwriting, the band never disappoints, always so open and overflowing with raw emotion. “Copeland Heights” is a track more aligned with what people are usually more familiar with when it comes to the quintet. Acorda’s soft spoken vocals float along the track, enunciating the desire to endlessly soak in someone’s warmth. “‘Cause I’m scared of the days I’ll face without you / What a gift to have basked in your sun.” Putting ‘Sun Blanket’ next to the rest of the band’s discography, there’s quite a noticeable contrast when you compare it with their other music–but it’s a delightful step into a new direction, laden with optimism for what’s to come. When Megumi Acorda cast their net far and wide, they caught sentimental, audible treasure, turned golden by the sun. SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST: Sun Blanket by Megumi Acorda
TRACK REVIEW: Man Made Evil – Dear Baby From Malate
Written by Noelle Alarcon So far, the 2020s have proved to be an era engulfed in the novelty of remakes. It’s evident in recreations of films from decades ago, the return of cuts and fabrics popularized by your parents’ generation, and the like. In this age of pastiche milked dry by major corporations, it’s artists like Man Made Evil that show everyone how authenticity can breathe new life into the past. ‘Dear Baby From Malate’ is over five minutes of stripped-down brilliance; a track mixed like a live performance. The instruments are put together in a way that sounds like you’re right next to them, welcoming and fitting for the romantic swagger the song’s words carry. Its singsongy background vocals add to its chummy appeal; a song that is as catchy as it is intricate. The track’s brash vocals mesh together perfectly with its guitars, which let overdrive take the reins in shaping the body of the song. It’s reminiscent of local 70s acts like the Juan Dela Cruz Band, whose discography carries both bark and bite. Similar to its predecessors, “Dear Baby From Malate” is also hinged on creative riffs, a smug, patterned rhythm section for support, and incredibly casual lyrics. Just when the song calms down for its soft “ooh, ooh, oohs,” it lets loose some more, until the audible release of energy fades to its eventual end. “Mapa rockers man o punks na long hair, tiyak hindi lahat wagi diyan,” sings the band, their easygoing, “it is what it is” attitude towards love infectious. Passion oozes out of the track, from the earnest references of their inspirations to the witty tongue in cheek it carries throughout its run. ‘Dear Baby From Malate’ is a reminder to take it easy; authenticity will always get you by, in the end. “Ganito talaga sa mundong ibabaw.” SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST: Dear Baby From Malate by Man Made Evil