Written by Gabriel Bagahansol The name of the latest album from Filipino-American rapper Bambu is taken from the arrival of Spanish forces in Mexico, who set fire to their ships in a bid to take over the country through bloodshed. There is a web of colonialism that links Mexico to both the Philippines, its fellow former Spanish colony, and Bambu’s hometown of Los Angeles, whose Mexican heritage clashes with the socio-political dominance of the United States. That ever-growing web of international dominance and tyranny is what informs the sentiments within the rapper’s latest project, ‘They’re Burning The Boats.’ The anger spurred in response to gun violence, conservative grifters, raids on immigrants, a tax-funded genocide, and a disproportionate status quo is front and center on ‘It’s Happening, Again,” which acts as a preface for the album. On the next track, “Their Problem, Not Mine,” Bambu calls out Filipino-Americans who have chosen to betray their Filipino roots in exchange for model minority points that won’t protect them from racism. He doubles down with his disgust on unprincipled people in “Righteous, By Design,” where he encourages people to be proud for having militant progressive stances and speaks out against money-driven commentators who manufacture consent for imperialist aggression. Fittingly, on “Burning Manufactured, Alive,” Bambu tells the story of Palestinians and Arab peoples who went about their normal, everyday lives before that normalcy was violently rewritten by Israeli bombs made possible, in part, by United States industries. And on “Inamo, Customs Enforcement,” Bambu talks about the racist violence happening in his own country, ridiculing ICE agents for being class traitors to their own countrymen and reminding them of the grim legacy they will leave behind for their children simply because they needed a paycheck. On this initial set of songs, Bambu plays the role of messenger and critic, with the sharp mindstate of an org leader leading a rally and the charisma of a rapper feeding rhymes to a packed club. His words flow so smoothly over boom-bap beats — provided by longtime collaborator Fatgums — that they help the heavy subject matter go down easily, and with Bambu’s skill in turning his stances into sticky hooks, these songs feel less like a sermon and more of a lively public demonstration. No more are these traits more evident than when Bambu tackles the chaos happening in the motherland. When most rappers would use a beat with snappy drums and warm electric pianos to brag about cruising at night in a flashy car, Bambu instead uses this as an opportunity to warn flood control contractors driving in their flashy cars of the consequences of their greed. “Blood In The Maybach, Patay Sa Baha” puts a spotlight on the injustices happening in our own country, conjuring images of corruption within the government and the media, and how it has affected us Filipinos. On the same song, Bambu delivers another lambasting of Asian-Americans who turn a blind eye to their fellow Asians who suffer back home, and he even calls on people to turn against the antiquated systems that have done so little to help their constituents. The injustices we face will leave us feeling plenty of anger and disgust, and these songs reflect that prevailing sense of doom, but rather than exhausting his rage to the end of the album, Bambu tries to propose that in spite of all of this, we can still make change possible. On “Complicit, Repeat,” instead of regurgitating his disdain towards ignorant people, he attempts to reach out to them, show a common ground in their struggles, and encourage them to speak out. By presenting sympathy to the apolitical who’ve become jaded over time and are now complicit in war by way of their tax money, he reminds listeners of why activism matters in these trying times. But with a closing track titled “It’s Happening, Now,” you’d think Bambu would take this opportunity to mobilize people into the streets after talking about the atrocities of our time in the last seven songs. But instead of giving into such obvious urgency, Bambu is showing love — love for his comrades, love for his fellow Filipinos, and most of all, love for his family. Now in his forties, Bambu’s rage against the machine is as alive as it was two decades ago, but becoming married with children didn’t dilute his energy. The sobering clarity after all the political chestbeating comes from remembering who it is you’re fighting for, and as Bambu makes it clear by the end of this album, he takes to the streets for a better future for his family and families like his. The two songs that close ‘They’re Burning The Boats’ not only prevent the album from becoming a doomscroll in glorious hip-hop, they also complete the purpose of activism and reaffirm the many people that come together in organizations and unions all over the world. Rebellion isn’t just about being angry over a corrupt system and sneering against conformity; it’s also about reaching out and welcoming people to the cause and making your disobedience count towards ensuring your countryfolk will no longer live a life they don’t want. But how do we solve all this, then? At the end of the album, Bambu clarifies that he actually doesn’t advocate for violence, but vows his support for whatever choice the masses will make to end the tyranny forced onto them. Put this album on and do with his words what you will — but keep them in mind the next time the ashes piled up on Manila Bay clog the drain and cause a flood the next time it rains. SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST: They’re Burning The Boats by Bambu
REVIEWS
EP REVIEW: More To Me – Lost Teeth
Written by Aly Maaño Melodic hardcore never died; it just evolved. In the 2020s, bands are putting their own spin on the genre by fusing it with new influences. In the local music scene, More To Me is stepping in to push the genre forward. Composed of vocalist Dale Diongzon, lead guitarist Paolo Owyong, rhythm guitarist Mickoy Mariano, bassist Lee Mendoza, and drummer Francis Yuri De Jesus, the band recently launched their debut EP, Lost Teeth, with six tracks that blend emo and hardcore elements. The EP begins with a short introduction track that segues into “Cleansed,” an aggressive four-minute track with an explosion of crunchy bass lines and dynamic drum beats colliding with layered screams and clean vocals. The heavy guitar riffs echo rage and disappointment as evocative as Circa Survive and Balance and Composure’s older sound. “Cleansed” and “Lost Teeth” also seem to be twin tracks in this EP, sharing similar melodic traits and structure. The title track, however, is much more subdued in its angst. Instead of pointing fingers, the narrator seems to be facing the mirror after avoiding it for so long. Much like how losing teeth symbolizes change, this track signals a turning point in the record from a thematic point of view. Most projects that lean towards emo and hardcore are often emotionally charged, but Lost Teeth channels this rawness through its introspection meets intellectualism lyricism. In “Echoes,” Diongzon transforms pain into a shared catharsis. “In this world apart, where love was strong, we’ll keep holding on…” emphasizes community and its ability to soothe amidst suffering. While “Echoes” pushes listeners to a point of reflection, “By Design” is the kinetic force that propels us to achieve this sense of togetherness. The chorus “Inside our hearts, where love and pain collide… In silence, we sacrifice for better lives…” prompts us to look out for people in our community and choose love above all else. It’s an invitation to come together, to mosh, dance, and scream with new and familiar faces in the scene. As far as hardcore goes, Lost Teeth doesn’t disappoint. Diongzon’s vocals are inundated with tasteful guitar work; textured riffs that synthesize and serrate to make way for clean vocals that haptically switch to abrasive screams. Meanwhile, the mix of pounding drums and punchy bass riffs grounds the chaos before it lands in grittier hardcore territory. With this softer approach, the record sounds more melodic than traditional, pulling more from emo influences. As the EP finishes with “Whole Again,” the overlap of both genres is set in stone. The spur of melody and metaphors propped with heavy technicality underscore this harmonious intersection. However downcast it may sound, it leaves us in a tranquil state. “And if I’m a ghost, I hear you calling through the walls. Let’s set fire to these empty halls and make you whole again…” reminds us that we’re never truly alone in our silent battles. Lost Teeth doesn’t build up to a grand climax but shines in standout moments. Every intro sets the listening experience and each line reveals a personal truth. It won’t send us to a thought spiral nor let us sulk on familiar anxieties, but every melodic breakdown captures a cathartic feeling enough to resurrect millennial hearts from the grave of the mundane. After going through a phase of animosity, the EP matures into a self-realized record that hinges on the very thing that keeps melodic hardcore alive: vulnerability. SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST: Lost Teeth by More To Me
EP REVIEW: Yaelokre – Origins
Written by Francine Sundiang Yaelokre understands that sounds alone can evoke fantasy worlds. Arguably the most exciting artist to come out of the Philippines as of late, Keath Osk’s musical storytelling project has rejected the overtly autobiographical tendencies of many songwriters, while still managing to be deeply personal through and through. If their first EP, ‘Hayfields,’ was an introduction to the world of Meadowlark, ‘Origins’ acts as an expansion of their worldbuilding. The first track “My farewells to the fields” starts with isolated strums of their guitalele, you are instantly taken somewhere else, to a scene in a land of fantasy, to a storyteller gathering listeners around in a circle, sharing a tale in hushed whispers that eventually turn into cries of triumph, a tale of leaving an old home and finding sanctuary in a found family. The track’s thematic richness manages to cut through to even the most casual listener. “Bird cage blue and yellow” is a track that exudes character, both that of the in-universe storyteller and that of Osk’s. “I can be different, I can’t be puppeted!” they both proclaim in a dramatic declaration of independence and self-determination in the face of the overwhelming pressure to conform. The artist’s heritage is on full display here as Osk softly sings in Icelandic and repeats lines in Filipino, a combination that wonderfully contrasts with each other while still being in harmony. While “To douse a scalded tongue” seems to promise to be a more mellow track compared to the previous two, that assumption is quickly proven wrong with an abrupt lofi vocal more akin to a condemnation than a song. It’s a call to action, inviting the listener to get up and refuse to stay silent. From here, it’s clear that Osk intends to keep the intensity up throughout the EP, never giving the listener a break from their theatrics and dramatic flair. The EP closes with “Kamahalan,” unique in all of the Yaelokre discography by being fully in Filipino. It is every bit as intense as all the other songs in the tracklist, but it achieves this through pounding percussion and a bassline that adds a subtle yet significant groove. While there is no lull in energy, it still manages to be a satisfying ending, and before you know it, the scene of masked storytellers in your head fades away as you’re taken back to reality. ‘Origins’ is a reinforcement of what the Yaelokre project stands for, which is fitting for an EP that explains the backstories of the four main characters. It is a desperate plea to you, the listener, to listen to your inner child, to unapologetically be your authentic self, no matter how much you are pressured not to. It’s just up to you if you have the courage to heed that call, a call made clearer in one of Yaelokre’s most compelling set of stories yet. SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST:
TRACK REVIEW: Jopper Ril – Won’t Wait
Written by Francine Sundiang The best music often has a transportative quality to it, able to bring you to moments in the past you may not have even been a part of. With Jopper Ril’s “Won’t Wait,” the listener is taken to distant memories of late karaoke nights and the height of R&B, disco, and Manila Sound in the ‘70s. It’s a track that proudly wears its influences on its sleeve, but with enough attention given to songwriting and vocal performance to really make it stand out. Everything starts slowly, with melodic piano and subtle guitar chords gradually building up in intensity before reaching a falsetto vocal and a classic pentatonic guitar solo. This change in trajectory keeps your attention and prevents the track from becoming stagnant, all while Jopper Ril manages to exude a sense of charisma and stage presence purely through audio. These elements brought together create a track that would have been an instant classic had it been released at the same time as its influences. There’s nothing exactly new here, but there doesn’t need to be. After all, there’s no greater tribute to your influences than to show how their classic sounds still have a place in the present. Jopper Ril does exactly that; “Won’t Wait” is a homage to the greats, a time capsule to the height of a genre. SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST:
TRACK REVIEW: NICKOTINE – BLOW BLOW
Written by Elijah P. NICKOTINE sits in a strange corner of the electronic dance space. They operate with the focus of a producer who knows exactly where to push the limits and does not bother waiting for permission. Their singles catalog running from 2024 already runs long enough to fuel an entire DJ set, and every release hits with the blunt force of someone who refuses to soften a single edge. The shift from the old Nicko Erotica moniker to NICKOTINE speaks for itself. They never relied on a safe route, and they continue to avoid any lane that asks them to pull back. Their TikTok gives a glimpse of how their mind works: Short clips, tight captions, and a kind of humor that turns the abrasive quality of their songs into a punchline. “BLOW BLOW” doubles down on that attitude. The track launches straight into hedonistic lines and a wall of mechanical horns that grind against buzzing synths. The whole thing comes together like a controlled collision. NICKOTINE built a following through SoundCloud drops that move between techno and deconstructed club. That following continues to grow because each release carries a sharp personality that rarely surfaces in the local dance scene. They have close to 19k followers on TikTok, which raises a bigger question: how many clubs and curators have yet to notice what they can do? The wild part is that they produce everything through a phone. No laptop. No full home setup. Just instinct and speed. Keep NICKOTINE in your sightline now. Support the art & the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: Franz Guico – di ko aaminin
Written by Rory Marshall Cagayan De Oro’s very own Franz Guico switches things up in his newest release, “di ko aaminin.” The folk singer-songwriter has taken a nudge in a different direction with his first single of 2025. Franz Guico has built up a reputation for soft, heartfelt acoustic tracks – reminiscent of haranas and sweet ballads, but with “di ko aaminin,” he casts his music in another light with a Math Rock twang. Nothing is lost with the new sound. Everything that made his music work before is present in the track, just with a new coat of paint. With his honeyed lyrics and melodies that seem to take residence in your ear long after the song ends, now accompanied with a shifting time signature and twinkly, complex guitar riffs, this feels more like an evolution rather than a switch-up. He’s no stranger to intricacies in his guitar playing, as seen in his previous folk tracks like “at nagkagulo”, but in this new single, the translation is seamless. All that’s different is the switch from soft acoustic to crunchy electric guitars. That, paired with crashy drums and a harmonic breakdown to close out the song, by the end of it, you’re left wondering how well his two styles complement each other. Is it a step in the right direction? Yes. His discography has a lot of heart, with tracks like “dahan dahan ka nang nawawala” and “ikaw na ang buhay ko” deserving more recognition than they have, but it wouldn’t be a far cry to label his discography a drop in the bucket of singer-songwriter OPM. Experimentation is healthy, and shaking things up is a natural part in the artistic process. It doesn’t always result in a success or a path the artist wants to pursue, but for the case of Franz Guico and “di ko aaminin”, this is an avenue worth exploring. SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST:
TRACK REVIEW: Parti. – Breach
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:
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: