Written by Faye Allego Once known as No Lore (and no, not because they lacked one), members and visual artists Tita Halaman, Kim Escalona, and Carole Lantican begun crafting their audio framework that gained recognition for entry at the 36th AWIT awards and then reintroduced themselves as NEW LORE in late 2024 where they amped up their vibrancy and utilised every facet of multimedia to showcase their art — especially upon the release of their debut album, Grief Cake. In their latest 2026 single, “Substack Girl,” the tools to a catchy post-breakup song are definitely there; the muffled instrumentals in the first twelve seconds immediately place the listener into a flashback-esque soundscape and looming afterthoughts during the “scheming” period of a breakup. However, lyrics that circle around that question of “do you still…?” land steep, surface-level, and flat. The song fixates on specific habits that have even been harmfully labelled as “performative” such as going to gigs, reading obscure literature, digging through ukayans; “And are you still A gig goer? Art fair lover? Film enjoyer? Thrift store lover Vinyl seeker? Poetry reader? Soul Admirer Joybaiter?” it begs the question: is this just a checklist of interests turned into buzzwords? Though it’s light-hearted, it’s also reductionist toward real parts of someone’s identity. To reiterate, sonically, the track does almost everything right. It is indeed catchy, cleanly mastered, and even performs well in relaxing. To add, listening to this track in low-stress environments is surely fun and enjoyable; it can even be what’s now called reaching a “flow state.” Even the music video for “Substack Girl” is quite mellow. It’s the three-piece switching seats for the duration of the track, symbolizing the tranquillity found in the curiosity that the lyrics attempt to highlight. Of course, people wonder about their exes even through a rose-colored lens or through vibrant colors similar to that of PVC film– the song is very real when it comes to breakup talk, as the listener, it prompts wandering and questioning whether or not an ex thinks about their former lover… but at the same time, as the colors mix and turn grey after a few rounds of listening to the track… does it matter if an ex is thinking about us while reading poetry or flipping through vinyl? “Substack Girl” is a feel-good track, and New Lore’s discography is certainly one to keep an eye out for. Though they are not the first to utilize the commodification of personality and art to garner interest, they should refrain from that notion if they want to maintain relevance; like breakups, negative attitudes towards identity must learn to eventually fade away. Perhaps New Lore has breakup songs mastered– may they view introspection through art more in depth next time. Support the art and the artist:
REVIEWS
ALBUM REVIEW: THUGSTA – THUGS 2 RICHES
Written by JK Caray THUGSTA’s debut album “THUGS 2 RICHES” leaves more to be desired for the Malate-based rapper, but the talent is evidently there. “THUGS 2 RICHES” chronicles the origin story of THUGSTA, the sacrifices and enemies he had to overcome to achieve the lifestyle he wanted. Right off the bat, “FIRST OF ALL” demonstrates THUGSTA’s storytelling capabilities as something to be admired. THUGSTA knows how to craft the perfect underdog story without cutting out the ugly parts; the violence of the environment he came from and how it clearly shaped his jaded perspective on the world. It’s effective at making you root for him in every situation he puts himself in. On the other hand, the cocktail mix of producers, all with their own take on THUGSTA’s sound, barred the songs from sounding indistinguishable from one another while being easy on the ears. The simple beat switch between “PUSSY” and “PARA SAKIN YAN” gave the album the variety it needed to make the listening experience more enjoyable. It’s no wonder that within its 19-minute runtime, every song pops out in its own way. At times, however, rap performances have rendered themselves redundant with flows that get monotonous when the rapper reaches over the 16-bar limit rather than writing memorable bars. In “PARA SAKIN YAN,” Thugsta doesn’t match the enthusiasm of the song and gets overshadowed by the high energy of the beat. A little more charisma goes a long way for an album like “THUGS 2 RICHES.” One unfortunate flaw that comes and goes throughout the album is the distasteful misogynistic quips that THUGSTA adds in at times. While it is well-known that the rap canon has had its misogynistic roots in the culture it sprung out of, it becomes hard to ignore when he’s spitting a verse that makes you actively root for him, only for it to be followed by namechecking women “putas” he doesn’t waste time on. Overall, it is disappointing enough that it takes away from the immersion of an otherwise good song. “THUGS 2 RICHES” as an album may have some glaring issues performance-wise, but THUGSTA’s adept writing chops and the songs’ dynamic beats carry it past the finish line. Outlandish and right in your face, THUGSTA presents himself as a fledgling who, with finer adjustments and more rapping allure, would have the potential of having a lasting fanbase from the general audience he’s already gained from being just himself. Support the art and the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: DANTE – Yosi
Written by Louis Pelingen DANTE’s debut single plays things straightforwardly cool. His vocal theatrics sound natural amidst this brand of pop rock, all with flashy guitars, bright keys, and choppy effects that are placed organically within the song. Everything plays perfectly in portraying affection for someone that just can’t slip off his fingers, like smoke that keeps following him. A presence that never fails to capture his attention. While “Yosi” lays out a familiar formula – especially in the OPM circuit – that DANTE definitely plays into, there is enough potency in his performance and production to highlight. This ends up becoming a solid introduction to his overall musicianship, where the real test will come later. For now, this is a cigar worth taking, where you just feel the first puff of smoke before you eventually head out to find more. Support the art and the artist:
SOUNDS OF THE SEA: Soft Things (Myanmar)
Within the largest city of Myanmar, Yangon, lie small yet meaningful bands like Soft Things, who are waving the flag towards the dream pop and shoegaze flourishes that echo across the city. Formed back in 2023, this tight-knit band is composed of guitarists Kaung Khant Htun and Nyi Ye Htut, bassist Kaung SI Thu, drummer Thu Ta Aung, and vocalist Thet Htar Zin. Young fledglings finding their groove within the yearning spirit of the sounds they’re pulling from. They sparked a flash last year with their debut EP, ‘Warm Blue Sea,’ a stirring wave of dream pop that washes over. It acts as a starting point that defines their spirit, a characteristic best represented on the first track of the song, ‘Asleep, Awake’. Punchy drums and serene pedal effects reinforce the tension that Thet writes on record. Looking into a lilting love that is either fleeting or everlasting. This overall spirit carries through from song to song. ‘Zoo’ very much casts a lot of Cocteau Twins’ soundscape, especially how the guitars phase out in the mix alongside Thet’s vocal backdrops scattering all over the song. ‘I am not the one for you’ tests out its writing intrigues, letting glossy keys cascade over the protagonist’s affections with the women he’s loved in the past. The closer track, ‘Cherry Cola,’ delves into synthpop bits as buzzing synth pads trickle all over the song. It recalls and reflects upon the saccharine moments that can end up so bitter, like an unforgettable aftertaste Of course, as heard through Thet’s delivery, the brute forces his vocal limits to a flinching degree on ‘I Remember You’, they wear their passion in their sleeves and embrace all its ups and downs as much as possible. Soft Things know that the world is in a rough shape at the moment, so they may as well hold onto those soft moments from the very beginning, and let it glow as they continue their path, charging their spirits to a much tender future.
SABAW SESSIONS: Ada Meniv
In Ada Meniv’s Playbook, There Was Darkness Before Light When you look through the telescope at the moment when the Blood Moon — where astrologists would calculated that it would take a century to evolve — is about to reveal itself, you realize that an album titled LUWAL HATI is about to be uploaded to cyberspace by Ada Meniv; A one-of-a-kind debut album of the trap-metal experimental project of Tisch Nava. The concept of Ada Meniv comes from an internet-induced fever dream of a cultural worker based in Hong Kong, whose vision of the grimmer sides of the Philippines is filtered through intensive worldbuilding. The new album, however, carries moments where one wouldn’t expect these genre trappings to meet, yet they come together in ways that feel deliberate. At the same time, switching between different personas for his DJ alter-ego Fr:(wn and his alternative rave initiative gRave, the music itself is a warning sign for those who want to move deeper into darker corners of the underground. In tracks like “Placenta,” “Hayeta,” “On Bondage of the Will,” and “Karit,” Ada Meniv taps into an atmosphere less common in a scene saturated with technicolor and maximalism. The lore unfolds in a way that feels reserved for those willing to sit with its discomfort. With parents who both played music early on, and later exposure to local and digital scenes, these influences shaped his direction over time. Here, Tisch lets listeners only scratch the surface of what he has been working toward, both in sound and in creative output overall, putting the album out independently and fully aware of its own abrasive tendencies. Ada Meniv has only gotten started. [This interview has been edited for brevity and clarity] Elijah: I think we were internet friends first around 2016 and my first impression was at the time you attended these very diverse mixed-bill shows. Hardcore, metal, mga hip-hop, trap music. Since then, we didn’t really converse as much in those early years, but we somehow found our way to get back into the groove during the pandemic. From what I assume, you grew up with a lot of emo and metal influences. Could you tell me what were the first bands or records that made you feel like music could be a world you could live inside? Ada Meniv: Si mama tsaka si papa nasa band sila, grunge band. Tapos nagpe-play sila around Manila. Kaya Tisch yung name ko, kasi pangalan ng banda nila is Tisch. Doon nagsimula yung hilig ko sa rock. Simula siya sa Nirvana. Tapos nung four to six years old ako, Nirvana lagi pinapatugtog sa bahay. Tapos Red Hot Chili Peppers, Tool, yung mga sikat sa MTV. Nung eight to ten years old ako, in-introduce na sa akin ng papa ko yung mas mabibigat pang banda. Naalala ko Disturbed. Tapos lahat ng metal noon, hindi pa metal yung tawag. Parang wala pang label sa mga banda. Korn, Slipknot. Doon ako nagsimula mag-discover ng similar bands sa sarili ko. Pero nag-school ako sa Santa Rosa Laguna, uso yung hip-hop doon. Nahiligan ko rin—Repablikan, mga ganun. Doon nagsimula yung hip-hop side ko. Tapos nag-merge yung fashion ko from hip-hop to metal. Naka-darts ako, hoodie, tapos may studded belt. Yun yung itsura ko noon. Nung grade 5 to 6, in-introduce sa akin ng kaklase ko yung Alesana. Doon ako nagkaroon ng interest sa emo scene. E: I think pumunta pa sila dito recently like last year? AM: Oo pero wala ako doon. Sayang. E: First time nila sa Pilipinas yun after decades. AM: Nung time na yun, around 2000s sa Santa Rosa. Kasagsagan yun ng emo scene sa Laguna. E: Sobra, lakas emo scene nila. AM: Oo, lalo na typecast, mga hardcore ng Piledriver. Wait, dagdag ko lang. Wala pang Spotify, wala pang SoundCloud. Wala rin kaming computer sa bahay. Ang ginagawa ko pumupunta ako sa Olivarez Mall para bumili ng pirated CDs—compilations ng As I Lay Dying, Asking Alexandria. Doon ako nagsimula. Wala sila sa MTV pero sobrang nagustuhan ko yung guitar riffs nila. Yun yung unang inaaral ko sa guitar. E: What was the first song? AM: Yung unang natutunan ko sa guitar, tinuro sakin ng papa ko, “Schism” ng Tool. After nun, umalis si papa papuntang Hong Kong. So ako na lang mag-isa nag-discover ng music. Nahilig ako sa drop D, yung mabibigat. Doon ako nagsimula talaga. Yun yung roots ko aside from hip-hop. E: When was the time you explored more online? AM: Late na rin. May computer shop malapit sa amin, pero madalas naglalaro lang mga tao doon. May soundtrip yung admin, yun yung pinapakinggan ko lagi. Kaya doon ko rin nadiscover yung ibang sounds. Noong 2009, nagkaroon kami ng laptop tapos binigyan ako ng Globe Tattoo broadband. E: Ay, same! AM: Sobrang bagal nun. Isang YouTube video 15 to 30 minutes bago mag-load. E: 140p lang kaya. AM: Pero part siya ng experience. Pagkatapos ng intay, ang saya mo na maririnig mo na yung gusto mong pakinggan. E: Earliest memory ko sa Globe Tattoo, Odd Future, “Oldie” 2011. AM: Ay oo shet! Malaki rin influence sa akin ni Tyler, pero hindi pa siya kasama sa earliest discoveries ko online. Noon, hinahanap ko pa lang sa YouTube yung mga gusto kong aralin sa guitar—Flyleaf, post-hardcore bands. Tapos nag-aaral din ako ng art rock—Muse, Radiohead. E: Lumawak yung palette mo. AM: Oo, eventually. Rabbit hole kasi yung internet. Once pumasok ka, tuloy-tuloy na yun. E: Ngayon you’re still carrying that Filipino identity in your work as Ada Meniv. How does being part of the overseas Filipino experience affect the way you write or produce music? AMl: Hindi siya gaano sa lyrics, pero malaki yung influence ng Pilipinas sa soundscape ng Ada Meniv. Sa visuals din, Pilipinas lahat ng settings. Hindi ko pinaplanong mag-set sa ibang bansa. Gusto ko yung nature ng Pilipinas. Sa soundscape, malaking factor yung pagiging Pinoy ko kasi doon ako nag-start mag-explore ng roots. Hanggang ngayon, na-iinvoke ko pa rin siya. Late ako naglabas
MIXTAPE REVIEW: Lil JVibe – 2KLUVSHIT
Written by Lex Celera Almost three years after ‘WHOLE LOTTA LUVSHIT,’ it’s safe to say that Lil JVibe’s reputation continues to precede him – albeit not in the same way as it was in 2016. Since focusing on music, the rapper has found his niche in shaping Top 40 hits into hip-hop fare through sampling and interpolation. The formula is all but unknown in today’s music landscape – Supafly’s “Answer The G” and Nateman’s “Imma Flirt” come to mind – but no one is as consistently brazen as Lil JVibe. “Prince Say” and “Hip Or Thighs” indicate that there’s nothing that’s stopping him from riding on the coattails of pop’s most earworm-worthy hooks and calling it his own. With ‘2KLUVSHIT,’ Lil JVibe fires a miscellany of tracks that iterate on the same principles of his previous work in the same unbothered, uncohesive manner of a Datpiff mixtape. He does a good job choosing songs that are dated enough not to be overtly overshadowed by the original, but not so far back as to be unfamiliar. Justin Bieber, Neyo, and Ginuwine’s bodies of work are blatantly reborn anew with jersey club and drill elements. Like with the rest of his discography, it’s the reworking of the familiar that draws attention, but it’s the blatant commitment to the bit that makes it enjoyable. It just makes sense to pull directly from a hit to make another hit. “My Doja” is exactly that as it rises above with its take on Ginuwine’s “Differences” in a manner not unlike Pop Smoke’s own take in “What You Know Bout Love.” The result is Lil JVibe at his most riveting, where his experimentation bears fruit without holding back. We’re seeing the same tradition in hiphop upheld by the likes of Max B and Jim Jones, where an artist is known for their remixes. But familiarity works both ways: if a remix brings the original to mind, it’s only natural that hearing any of those sampled tracks now makes us think of Lil JVibe. And that list keeps growing. Support the art and the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: cosmic suns – Ethereal
Written by Aly Maaño How does one hold on to a moment that’s almost palpable but fleeting? How does one express awe in the face of something ethereal? Sometimes, words hold no meaning when the otherworldly presents itself in forms that make you hold your breath. Hailing from Davao, cosmic suns attempt to express these intangible feelings in their debut single, “Ethereal.” In the world of shoegaze, pedals are tools for creating sensations that go beyond hearing. Cosmic suns know just how manipulate fuzz to achieve textured riffs that explode into microcosms of desire, longing, and turmoil. Their distorted guitars swirl and bend with other instruments while dreamy and distant vocals orbit around them like an invisible knot — connecting each conjured world into a single hazy soundscape. With these elements, “Ethereal” remains loyal to the genre. However, it finds itself treading into skramz territory as the chorus breaks into agonizing screams. But hearing a vocalist desperately screaming in a shoegaze track doesn’t break through the expansive wall of noise but merely complements its obscurity. Drenched in lush reverb and delay, the screams add a haunting effect that only intensifies the heavy emotions the song is channeling. When layered with clean vocals, the result is as visceral as a memory from years ago that leaves a lump in one’s throat. At this point, there’s no need to interpret; we must surrender willfully to the auditory frenzy. Cosmic suns may still be protostars in the vast shoegaze universe, but they already formed the core of their sound in “Ethereal.” In their evolutionary stage, will they continue redefining the genre’s blueprint? For now, we can only watch as they traverse celestial distances one heavenly song at a time. SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST:
TRACK REVIEW: inanotherworld – airfrying chicken nuggets for 10 minutes at 200°C
Written by Aly Maaño The beginning of the year is programmed for a personal reset. People eagerly work on their resolutions or, at least, plan the next step. But it’s not always how it’s set out to be. Some are still reflecting on the past year, revisiting old wounds to process what needs to be left behind. inanotherworld’s latest single, “airfrying chicken nuggets for 10 minutes at 200°C,” lets us linger in this period of reflection before release. This five-minute track blends the heavier sound of shoegaze with the slacker tempo and somber composition of slowcore to capture the dissonance of existing in a world that rewards constant movement over stillness. It starts with a chaotic frenzy of drums, pedal distortions, and glitchy frequencies that seem to echo an initial frustration. But it’s nothing that a long walk can’t subdue. This is what the first half of the song feels like. A long walk around the city after coming back from school or work after the holidays. The gloomy tone of the guitars pulls the listener out of their reality to observe what lies beyond the concrete jungle and urban sprawl. Even with melodies meant to evoke a melancholic mood, the track ironically inspires the listener to romanticize life and find serenity amidst the chaos. With beautiful, ghostly vocals accompanying sparse instrumentation, the experience is stretched out into a hundred blissful moments. As seen in the track’s cover art, snippets of the cityscape feel like a much-needed pause to take everything in. By the second half, “airfrying chicken nuggets for 10 minutes at 200°C” unfurls into a euphoric outburst, bringing banging snares and heavier riffs forward. During this prolonged sequence, a sense of comfort is instilled through sound rather than emotional lyricism. The repetition of downbeat melodies is meditative, healing almost. In this track, inanotherworld morphs common themes of slowcore — defeatism and somber slow burns — into a calm renewal. It turns a normal evening walk into an introspection while everything else moves in linear time. SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST:
ALBUM REVIEW: Feng – Weekend Rockstar
Written by Nikolai Dineros From his fish-out-of-water stories, inebriated romance attempts, and youthful recklessness across the board, Feng tries to reinvent the rock-and-roll star image through maximalism-veiled minimalism. In his first major album release, ‘Weekend Rockstar,’ the English-Filipino rapper follows a formula: take the scruff from the cloud rap template, then spruce it up with more contemporary elements of his time. Sometimes, this is done as a display of ingenuity, and other times, as a hint of the undercookedness of some ideas served too early. Except for his more daring ventures — such as in “F’d Up,” “J*b,” and “XOXO” — where Feng doubles down on the dreamy ambience produced by layers of glitchy synths and sample chops paired with his mellow delivery, much of ‘Weekend Rockstar’ falls short in capturing the self-flagellating levels of devotion rockstars give to the pathos of their sound; rather, they aggregate the unsuccessful attempt at embellishing a sound with unnecessary polish. Coincidentally, these three examples are also some of his most emotionally potent on the album, and the most Feng sounded like a rockstar. However, some of his more passive performances — like in “Dopest Girl,” “Superstar,” and “Best Friend” — exhibit a positive contrast to Feng’s bombastic highlights. But where Feng’s artistic direction stumbles, his storytelling shines. ‘Weekend Rockstar’ is best seen as a journal of a coming-of-age narrator in a drunken stupor for greatness. Deeply entrenched in the cold, dreary streets of his UK upbringing, Feng was upfront about his desire to add color to his life. By moving to the United States, as he aptly shared in his energetic album opener, “Cali Crazy,” he believed his life was about to change — that he was about to become the rockstar he was always destined to become. From there, Feng further explores the daze of becoming “teenage famous” through events of pure, juvenile ecstasy that he wears on his sleeves. These experiences range from hating his job before his big break (“J*b”), lamenting the changes to a new life (“Fireworks”), and failed relationships turned casual hookups (“XOXO” and “Ex Sex”). Softening the blow is “Superstar,” where Feng’s own admissions to the pitfalls of fame that he may be ensnared by (or the thoughts thereof that are keeping him awake at night) are on full display. Though whether there is guilt involved in these displays of vulnerability, we can not tell entirely, as his laidback approach to singing masks the true sentiment behind the flex.Whether he comes from a place of pride or shame, Feng believes these experiences will make him a rockstar, even just for a weekend. His pen game already proves that he has the makings of one. But in order to realize his full potential, he now needs to think about just how much farther his stardom can reach. Support the art & the artist:
SOUNDS OF THE SEA: CURB (Singapore)
Spelled in full caps, Singapore’s CURB plays emo with a ferocious bite. The city-state has built a strong reputation in the genre since the mid-2010s revival, with bands like Terrible People, Xingfoo&Roy, and Forests helping push the scene into cult territory. CURB arrives from the same ecosystem, sharing creative ties with the indie lineage surrounding Subsonic Eye. The trio — guitarist Lucas Tee, bassist Sam Venditti, and drummer Farizi Noorfauzi — first met as diploma students at LASALLE College of the Arts. In their early days, they bonded over the precision of math rock and the intensity of emo’s technical side but eventually grew to appreciate more styles later on. Their debut album Hope You’re Doing Well, Michaella (2022) captures that shift. The record leans on blunt, diaristic lyrics and the kind of guitar crunch associated with bands like Title Fight, yet it resists emo’s more theatrical tendencies. Instead, songs such as “7AM” and “Insult Through Injury” thrive on tight, direct hooks. “Become Again,” one of the album’s heaviest moments, highlights the band’s collaborative dynamic, with all three members trading vocal lines over restless, back-and-forth grooves. By the time they reached the 2024 EP benjabes!, the group began stretching that formula. The record opens with a surprising detour: slurred half-rap verses delivered by rapper-producer Mary Sue, a longtime collaborator of Noorfauzi. From there, the band gradually slips back into the guitar-driven sound listeners recognize. For CURB, emo remains a starting point rather than a boundary. The band sees genre labels as temporary signposts rather than a fixed identity. In that sense, Hope You’re Doing Well, Michaella reads almost like a diary — a record of someone confronting their own contradictions while trying to move forward. Noisier, punk-leaning riffage surfaces in songs like “You’re Me But Worse” and “Blake & The Surf.” Both tracks seem more interested in the pull of friendships and fleeting fascinations than in the anxieties of growing up. In that sense, CURB taps directly into emo’s lineage, where immediacy and youth carry a kind of strange timelessness.