Written by Jax Figarola One should always listen to a trance album with an open mind, open heart, and an open area to move freely and dance. D Waviee’s ‘Epitome’ reads less like an album than a carefully staged rite of passage. Rite of passage (detachment, liminality, incorporation) in a way that the album stages a formal emotional transition for its listeners. Only at first, it might seem like a collection of tracks produced over time by D Waviee and simply arranged for the release of her sophomore album, but the first few tracks already interrupt the flow of mundane daily sounds. As an independent producer, she fashions her sets into ecstatic incantations; on record she does the same and invites listeners to a manufactured liminality of a dissolving material world. Yet, the texture of music, as an art form, remains in this world. The opening title track performs this perfectly: voices layered like organ lines, a fractal cascade, and a wind that seems to hug and lift you, until you register that you are not dancing alone, but part of a constructed sociocultural matrix that accepts music as cathartic like the rave scene. “Blizzard,” a techno-trance wink at Far East Movement’s “Like A G6,” and the light “Moody,” steer the album to a Jersey-club glitch vogue realness, which feels like walking into liminal geography. And if rave culture has always flirted with ritual, the album makes that flirtation explicit. There’s a temporary suspension (or detachment) of the social selves that makes it possible to enjoy yourself with a new sense of belonging. Therefore, midway through, ‘Epitome’ sharpens into a focused body of art. “Put It Down – Femme Queen Edit” in its Jersey-club, explicitly queer choreography, and vogue-ish punctures pivots into her most dangerous and most thrilling track “Electric Erotica,” which as a track feels like being fucked in all holes by a bionic octopus. Here, the body transforms into a site of ambiguous desire. The track is not sexual, but it is sexualized in a way that feels intentionally destabilizing, suggesting that the body in trance is neither wholly male nor female, but a porous, androgynous surface for electronic music to latch on. That interface is programmed to give temporary liberation, just as the track is programmed to put you into a sexual-psychedelic trance. Thus, the concept coheres from the fifth track to the eleventh. D Waviee’s techno flip of Pette Shabu’s “COA” starts the sequence to the project’s most successful continuity exercises. “Shot Para Igat” is libidinal and kinetic with all the moaning sounds and it feels like reaching the climax. However, the record jolts toward an awkward “Green Light (Extended Mix),” almost like an interstitial pop serenade in the middle of a ritual, as “818” and the ending “Bleach & Tone” tilt the project toward memory work. The latter, with its dusted PS2-era textures and pre-rendered nostalgia, performs the incorporation phase: the collective spirit, after its temporary detachment, returns altered to the world and carries a residue of the night as memory. There is a delicate, enchanted quality here — an insistence that communal dance can rewrite how we relate to technological and cultural memory, as if those PS2 textures remind us of the manufactured nostalgia’s power to anchor us back into our own living reality. The project may occasionally feel disembodied, and it’s a part of its strategy as much as its weakness. This made the opening songs read more like experiments. Further, sounds and the self become more fidgety, and the records become very danceable. In this sense, ‘Epitome’ is less about individual tracks, but about what the listener performs for themselves. The album becomes a mirror for how one carries the energy to a liminal space that they enjoy. Like any other dance album, it’s a highly participatory work. D Waviee’s performance ethos posits that euphoric dance is something made, not merely found. Raves’ socially unrestrained atmosphere already captures the spirit of trance music. It is through the act of assigning memory to her music that the listening experience shifts into something more joyous and sustaining than simply dancing. Lastly, there is a sense of alchemy in how D Waviee, as a producer, turns influences of different genres (Jersey club, acid trance, techno) into tools for communities to use to map the sounds that reconfigure social intimacy. If trance is a practice of temporary unmaking, D Waviee’s ‘Epitome’ is the night’s manual. It needs you to surrender your social script, to accept a shared illusion, and to step back into the world with a new, quieter devotion to your body, to the people who moved beside you, and to whatever tenderness the music carved through your night. D Waviee was able to turn sexiness into cathartic communal love for electronic dance music. It’s the reason why trans is a near-homophone of trance. SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST: Epitome by D Waviee
Tag: Electronic
EP REVIEW: RamonPang – The Answer Breaks
Written by Louis Pelingen LA-based musician RamonPang is a lover and educator of electronic music. His short-form content alone shows his firm testament to providing a history of the development of electronic music. He imparts curiosity for everyone to keep an eye out for experimental music and bridges a space for new people towards the beauty and ethos of the genre. All delivered with insight, open-approachability, and passion that drives him forward, especially as a Filipino making waves within a mostly westernized genre such as IDM. Those characteristics also apply to his music as well. Major influences such as Aphex Twin and Four Tet have paved to what he wants to create in his own music: colliding unpredictable edges of IDM with the inviting structures of EDM. A staunch set of elements that never breaks apart within every project that he has pulled together thus far. 2021’s ‘Nature System’ is sleek and eclectic in its flexible melodies and otherworldly textures; 2022’s ‘Third Places’ focuses more into the communal space, sweeping up soulful samples and saturated mixes into nervy dance grooves; and 2024’s ‘Life Cycle Waves’ is elastic and varied, where walls of prickly IDM and meditative ambiance contort on one hand and meld on the other. A year later, what does the ‘The Answer Breaks’ EP add to RamonPang’s discography? Simple: a set of lean, accessible cuts that’s just as shiny and punchy as ever. Each track transports to a grounded, yet breathtaking soundscape. “The Answer” hypnotizes with that female vocal looping across textured drums and fizzy synth lines. “Broadcastyl” is dreamy and energetic in its buildup. Shimmering synth pads and jazz samples allow the steady breakbeat to unleash its energy, capitalized further through the guitar passages that rev in its melody. “Daly City Skyline” sets the stage for ’90s breakbeats to slide in. Pulsating acid synths and crashing drum rhythms gradually energize, similar to a race car willing to exhaust all of its gas just for a thrilling chase. ‘Brand Blvd’ puts everything into a calming finish, where inclusions of kalimbas add a playful charm around rapid rhythms and swells of glacial synth waves. While the sonic display of electronica that RamonPang exports into the EP doesn’t expand much in comparison to his past works, the tight approach to melodic making is a focus worth highlighting. An experimentation that never leaves RamonPang’s lucid soundscapes, only deepening the way he arranges his compositions. The answer may not exactly break new ground, but its compact structure is enough to leave a pleasant impression. Support the art and the artist:
EP REVIEW: ARKYALINA – Underneath Your Jagged Lines
Written by Louis Pelingen The moment that Arkyalina — also known as Tavin Villanueva — put out “readmymind” last year, it showcases just how much young acts like him are willing to synthesize different points of influence and make it their own. Cementing their own sonic identity and stylism that never compromises their passion and their intensity as musicians, both in recording and live performances. As someone who has seen him perform live, intensity is indeed the emotion that he pulls off well, all paired with scarlet red visuals and a sharply detailed mask that complements the jagged guitar work, skittering beats, and burnished vocals that he exposes in his performances. After releasing a couple of singles that now lead to his debut EP, ‘Underneath Your Jagged Lines’, something has shifted between last year and now. There is an adjustment towards how Arkyalina delivers as a vocalist and as a producer, providing more emphasis on build-ups and pulsating electronics to give his voice more space to play off with. The rhythmic shuffle of “Gaze (By Your Side)” and the squealing EDM pads of “Wish” are prime examples of this, where Arkyalina pairs back his intensity and allows himself to unravel in it, carefully crafting sharper melodies along the way. Of course, that guitar-driven, vocally fervid side of him is still here. Besides the already stellar “readmymind” with all the layers of chalky drums and blurry swells of strings that give Arkyalina soar vocally, “Ersatz” and “Remembrance, a tragedy” deliver in this front as well. The former’s rampage of guitar riffing leads to one glowing crescendo, and the latter’s weighty drums and guitar rumbles only amplify his anguished singing and screaming. Those contrasts do make some sense as Arkyalina unveils the tension within his writing. Detailing a post-breakup relationship that’s weighed on a lot of give and takes, with him giving so much of himself to the point that he is stuck in a rut. Never exactly willing to let go, as he reminisces on the time that he and his ex have spent together and reminisces about the moments where both of their flaws have been shown. It leads to Arkyalina constantly being in this push and pull stasis, constantly stretched apart by his internal angst and melancholy, but even then, he shows that he still cares about that relationship at the end of the day. As noted on the last track, “Remembrance, a tragedy”, he tries to reach out, acknowledge his mistakes, and hope that there’s still a chance to recoup from those mistakes. Even if such chances of reconnecting might be too late to be considered. While this overall theme can justify why Arkyalina’s decisions in his vocal mix and delivery are a bit more meticulous and submerged as he is swimming through his own emotional headspace, it can also lead to those choices exposing some of the EP’s weaknesses. “Ersatz” is lacking one more verse to really make its crescendos hit even harder; the glitchy, gauzy flair on “Everything Falls Apart” blurs so much that the melody washes out from one way to another; and the attempt for this weary vocal timbre amidst the heavier production mix on “Black Sea” becomes one note, especially as Arkyalina’s delivery doesn’t exactly vary and the buildup to that scream on the end of the song is so faintly heard. But, overall, ‘Underneath Your Jagged Lines’ is defined by choices and shifts that are intentionally thought out. Filled with meticulous mixes and vocal tones that emphasize the EP’s reddish intensity and bluish melancholy, all of which put Arkyalina in a space where there is still a lot of traversing to go into, recognizing the highs and lows that he must confront and refine upon. In wading underneath those lines, the waves will smooth their jagged edges, turning them into a more resplendent texture. Support the art and the artist:
EP REVIEW: Horseboyy – Horsepowah
Written by Anika Maculangan Writer and scholar McKenzie Wark once said, “To rave is to forget your name, to forget the logic of the market, to move without the burden of being anyone in particular.” In her book Raving, she describes it as more than an action: a living practice, shaped by bodies, rhythm, and movement. “Raving is stepping outside the everyday,” she writes, “without needing to know or care what will replace it.” What one feels when they listen to Horsepowah is more or less similar to this kind of energy that Wark explains in her work: vibrant, liberating, and full of life. Every pulse throbs with a collective sense of euphoria. A feeling that makes you leave the skeleton of your body. This is the most notable quality of Horsepowah: the way it moves as its own organism, creating a world with no hierarchy other than the steady law of the beat. You give yourself over to it, piece by piece, until you’re nothing but sweat and oxygen, the crowd fused into a single mass of heat and motion, pulling you deeper the more you move and shift to its tempo. Horsepowah doesn’t offer the kind of out-of-body drift sold as escapism. It’s not about vanishing from the world, but about occupying it differently. Leaving the body here doesn’t mean abandoning it; it means loosening its borders, and letting its edges blur — a tendency that’s easily recognized in some of Horseboyy’s earlier works, namely his contribution to Sounds Nais, Vol.4 and collaboration with Pette Shabu on BINGO! in 2023. Such projects that, without a doubt, prove he is no stranger to crafting surreal soundscapes. The debut gains its charged but unhurried effect by sculpting an atmosphere around tropical warmth, distilling its brightness into a slow, saturated glow. One that finds its perfect counterpart in Gal Costa’s voice, floating through the air like a light breeze, curling into the cadence of ’90s house and techno, all the while stepping into the laid-back quality of the beach. Look on to tracks like “Cheap Steam (Hold Me)”, one of the lengthier songs in the EP, which glides at a gradual pace, but is easy to sink into. A similar feature that is just as prominent in “Third Base”, a track you can get lost in while not getting too carried away. All of which embody the constant, but fluctuating patterns of the rest of the EP’s trajectory. Although one could find themselves craving for sharper edges, these subtleties are also what happens to make each track so immersive, always making sure to keep the listener at arm’s length. In fact, when interviewed by Jacob Mendoza for Mixmag Asia, Horseboyy himself stated that he wanted to “slow it down a bit.” A statement that leads one to believe that all along, this was the goal. And in that sense, Horsepowah succeeds almost effortlessly, not in overwhelming you with volume or density, but allowing for time to be taken at every step of the way. Out of this comes an EP that feels free-flowing yet intentional, balancing spontaneity with precision in a way that invites engagement without losing direction, drawing you deeper into its world until you’re no longer just listening, but breathing in its essence; a state of momentum you end up taking with you beyond the dancefloor. Support the art & the artist: Horsepowah EP by Horseboyy
MIXTAPE REVIEW: orteus – surgery
Written by Anika Maculangan As digicore begins to rise above its niche alcove with more artists like quinn, ericdoa, and blackwinterwells are starting to take on the genre. In surgery, orteus rides on the wave of Silent Hill’s aesthetic of liminal decay, implementing grunge tonalities that complement those glitchy overtones, we so often hear in hyperpop. While the thematic elements are depressing, dark, and bleak, fast-paced drum loops and maximalist synth lines counteract the gloominess that is rather highlighted, creating reactions that are antithetical to one another, but somehow complementary. Jam-packed with strong distortion and vocaloid, it’s almost eerie and unsettling to hear such distressing lyrics accompanied by such sweet instrumentals. But isn’t that the point of ‘eyestraincore’? Be vastly chaotic? Much like the internet, these facets are deliberately made to be in opposition to one another in hopes of creating that purposeful clash. With atmospheric qualities that are in reference to medical diction, layers of deep bass and snappy percussion, these elements amplify the depth, which allude to such concepts of artificiality and post-dystopia. In surgery, orteus collaborates with other artists, who mostly become evident in the treatment of vocals — some scaling from high-pitched, to more ‘soundcloud rap’ adjacent. This range among the tracks orchestrates a sense of diversity, which ensures that the flow doesn’t remain too monotonous to the standard rhythmic chops of 808s and pixelated effectors. Looking at songs like “you can’t just wait to be in a coma”, which have words that start to mish-mash into one another, the auditory mayhem is most recognizable, practically wreaking havoc on our ears, but in a fashion that’s considerably inspired and expressive. Incorporating these exaggerated motifs, while including such features as pronounced auto-tune and emphasis on trap-like inflections, the EP fits in well with the rest of the genre’s offerings. It isn’t inherently anything new or fresh, for its recycling of overused processes and manipulations within digicore, but it does take after the movement successfully, and guarantees that it treats it with respect. However, it goes without saying that the EP is more reflective of nightcore and crunkcore, especially since it focuses so much on steampunk-derived sensibilities. But one can wish that digicore projects may eventually try to be more daring in their progression as they evolve, since the whole point is to essentially employ a new approach to pop music. What bold nature would there be if we stick to the same accents? orteus could make do with further amplifying their usage of certain characteristics like the sharpening of reverb or application of intentional static in specific breaks. These are all modes of execution that, if better utilized, could make their sound more sonically creative. However, orteus was able to demonstrate a slight edge to her music: the abrupt pauses in between the tracklist. These random bouts of open air instigate a pause that leaves the listener cautious of when the next abrasive but dreamy beat may drop. Going through the album, the listener is constantly presented with an extensive span of oscillations. Although with a new digicore artist, there is always more potential and possibility for inventive patterns that either modify or disrupt the pre-existing. Support the art and the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: Pette Shabu – SPRAK
Written by Jax Figarola The word “sprak” means rage, and rage, after all, is and can be feminine. For centuries, masculinity has been associated with strong emotions like anger and aggression, but realizing that women are always subjected to restrictions and objectifications and all the other painful suffering a woman must endure, then rage is exactly feminine. Pette Shabu’s SPRAK is experimental, transgressive, and confrontational. She wears the beats of industrial hip hop and electronic sounds of techno, metal, hard dance, and then struts, rampages, and jerks us off unapologetically into her frenzied world. The trans goddess asserts herself in the world that her art stems from navigating a violently gendered world, all of which are etched into every synth, every guttural scream, and every angst-laden bar born from personal struggles as a queer woman. With Pette’s lyricism and wordplay cutting sharply reminiscent of FlipTop rap battles and her sound similar to Death Grips, every track demands attention to the lyrics. Naturally, what makes SPRAK so electrifying is her unrelenting commitment to confront the uncomfortable, the violence – the local political landscape, genocidal world leaders, misogyny, and patriarchy. With beats from known local producers in the scene like T33G33, Horseboyy, and Dwaviee, the intense lyrics create an even more abrasive and harsher sounds that seem aggressive to the ears. Yet, listening to her rap over the beats feels like consuming a familiar unknown ulam. You eat them anyway because suddenly you are interested in figuring out that ulam, only to find out that it’s a one of a kind food only available at a specific time and place. No one does it like her. The quick repetitive beats become listenable only because she proves that she’s the only artist capable of rapping on them. But all of this also means that not everyone wants to eat her food, as one’s first listen to Pette Shabu may be surprised with how unorthodox her art is, especially for the wider audience in the Philippines. Nevertheless, her instructions are clear: to cleanse the world of ugliness. She reclaims “pangit” and “ugly,” not as descriptors of physical appearance, but as metaphors for the different faces of her oppression. She rebukes these ugliness with extreme rage, especially after being used to describe her art by those who don’t understand her. The tracks build toward the techno track POKPOK for its climax, a personal favorite, as she spits bars that are both irreverent and deeply personal, reclaiming slurs and shoving them in the faces of those who weaponize them. Beneath the pounding bass and metallic overtones, there’s a catharsis in embodying her anger and emotions with the act of active listening to her rhymes and wordplay. And then, the momentum carries into XDEAL O BARIL and NATURAL HIGH, both techno-heavy songs that sound as though the world is teetering on the edge of collapse. The beats in these closing tracks become euphoric acts of reclaiming and manifesting, which perfectly captures the album’s push and pull between destruction and rebirth. These outro feel like a mirror to SPRAK’s broader themes of queer resistance. Therefore, it ends as violently as it begins. Pette’s art is not for passive listening, as she demands and commands us to witness her narratives of structural violence through her lens. In the chaos, there’s catharsis. In the rage, there’s declaration. And in the rawness, there’s power. The goddess rebirths the world and ascends above it, now she’s untouchable and incomparable. But then again, with such gospel from her, it’s guaranteed to have heathens who would not challenge the self to listen through the queer, chaotic sounds that she’s been through. It’s all because she’s the highest, and there’s no else like her in the Philippines. It’s because she’s Pette fucking Shabu. Support the art & the artist:
TFL’s THE 23 FILIPINO TRACKS OF 2023
Every year, something monumental happens in the music scene, whether it would be an army of alt-kids taking over a mall show, a rapper taking over the country by storm on Tiktok or a DIY venue at the verge of crumbling after two shoegaze bands. Genres have multiplied into bubbles, ecosystems emerge as newer venues from the highways of Cavite to the driveway of a basement at a Chinese restaurant. There’s a steady scene rising, amplifying louder one year after the other: 2023 is a year where those highlights have made made an impact beyond NCR. From Luzon, Visayas to Mindanao, we present to you a yearly tradition that the editorial team would always prepare themselves for; Not just because it’s the task that’s daunting, but it’s the journey and the result of 11 months of scouring the internet and gigs for the best of Filipino music. Here it is, The 23 Filipino Tracks of 2023. 23. P4BL0 – baka magalit mf mo In the “18 Commandments of the Boybestfriend”, there’s unnecessary fluff written along those ridiculous rules. However, P4bl0’s “baka magalit boyfriend mo” has this lasting effect delivered by its cloud-9 like production, ultimately writing one of the best pop hooks in the game now. It hasn’t been written on the scribes nor the tablets that South Metro Manila regular P4Bl0 made a banger track tailor made for the rebounds. Whether it’s the wacky gimmick of BBF/GBFs or the semi-ironic execution, P4bl0 has proven and tested that the undying concept of love and yearning can be done in a dreamy cloud-rap fashion. -Elijah P. 22. O Side Mafia – My Thang It’s been an endless streak of hit singles for O $ide Mafia despite the lackluster collaborations and disputes between territorial beef and fan leaks; “My Thang” is a victorious reaction to all of the success outweighing all of the group’s cons in the game. The simple old-school 2000s G-Funk influenced synths, the satisfying braggadacio three-verse combo and the killer hook is an all-time career highlight for the group and they just stay winning while all the haters watch. -Elijah P. KRNA expand on their infectious sound by expanding their soundscapes to include reverse guitar samples while pairing back on KCs vocal strength. The single shows the band’s mastery of making heartwarming music and a story of yearning that feels like a warm embrace being whispered while in a slumber. -Janlor Encarnacion Armi Millare announced her return to the music scene with a dissonant pop single – taking the time to show her own prowess in music creation with a tune leaning towards more pop and r&b. Roots signals the metamorphosis and re-emergence of OPMs signature voices and we can’t wait for more. -Janlor Encarnacion ‘Sonic Tonic’ is the long-anticipated debut that charges Suyen’s magnetic presence amidst the fray of fringed pop rock, a bottle of riot grrl and grunge blends where Suyen just sounds high-spirited in her craving for that adrenaline rush. Sam Marquez’s production is impeccable in bringing the heatwave atmosphere to ‘Sonic Tonic’, where the already remarkable chugging riffs and splashy drum work are vibrant and immense. Enough to keep everyone cheering along the soaring hook, ‘Sonic Tonic’ is a striking first cut from Suyen who is never afraid to jump first into action, letting her do anything to reach a gratifying emotion that will keep her feel alive. -Louis Pelingen ‘SOUFSIDE’ is a meteoric statement from the Cebu Hip-Hop collective ASIDE BOONDOCKS as they erupted through the scene with their tastes for boom bap and hardcore hip-hop. Flagrant in their hyperbolic expressiveness, that ecstatic flair allows each of their distinct flows to tumble through the stirring hypnotic beat that has a quirk of its own due to its swaggering bass lines and buzzy synth waves. ‘SOUFSIDE’ stamps a mark that will break further ground for the Odd Future-inspired Hardcore Hip-Hop ASIDE BOONDOCKS are leaning towards, where they’ll spark an explosion that you can’t help but feel its heat. -Louis Pelingen With Waiian’s recent return for his sophomore album, ‘SMILE’ is a track that has a familiar thematic trudge from this rapper who has a lot more to observe past his 2020 debut. In this pensive reflection on the mortality and bullshit of life, Waiian invites Yorko and U-Pistol to pen down their emotions on the table amidst a relaxed boom-bap beat and calming piano lines. As a result of that writing session, ‘SMILE’ ended up being Waiian’s best song to date where the melodies are tight and catchy on all quarters from Waiian and Co. No wonder that ‘SMILE’ is one of the lead singles for Waiian’s recent project for a reason, as it’s a respite that brings a gentle smile on constant repeat. -Louis Pelingen 16. PETTE SHABU – Bulbulin Ka Na As PETTE SHABU goes deeper into her experimental rap tapestry with every track she puts out, her transgressive lyricism and ferocious flows become more sharper. That in itself eventually led her to release dozens of challenging sonic bangers in 2023, with ‘Bulbulin Ka Na’ bringing the most sting out of her thus far. Through every whirling wordplay PETTE SHABU spits out, her flow turns impenetrable as PETTE SHABU confidently carries herself within horseboyy’s dense glitchy beat. ‘Bulbulin ka na’ is a bulldozer that keeps PETTE SHABU in control of her agency, lashing down everyone who comes for her without shame. -Louis Pelingen The dizzying hyper-pop artist known as AHJU$$I may have retired from that moniker, but his rebirth as Pikunin has those old bits and pieces intact, now ribboned with UK Garage rhythms and ticklish vocal flair. These characteristics manifest through Pikunin’s debut track, ‘Tadhana’, using Armi Mallare’s cooing vocals as the Jersey club beat tiptoes around it which also serves to be a bouncy springboard for Pikunin’s chirpy vocals and twee lyricism. Starry-eyed in nostalgia with a modern touch, Pikunin spins a refreshing take on the classic song that updates his eccentric brand of pop with gleeful yearning. -Louis Pelingen
ALBUM REVIEW: LIMBS – Everything Under Heaven
‘Massive’ would be an understatement to describe this album. “Everything Under Heaven” marks the third full-length release of the Manila-based Limbs, and it is perhaps their most colossal musical outing yet. Like a steel Eldritch creature you cannot look away from, “Everything Under Heaven” is a record that dwells from the underground to cast its shadow upon all that sit carefree in their comfortable abode to shine light on truths less realized by many unaccustomed to violence. From the album art itself, the band, with their fellow ARPAK artist Mikhail Collado helping them bring their vision to life, depicts a backdrop of an urban locale entrenched in war. Dilapidated interchanges that surpass people in height, silhouettes of mech robots built for war pulled straight from a sci-fi movie towering over all they trudge their path on. Whether it was by intention or sheer coincidence, Limbs was going for something grand on this album that even the title hints at (their use of giant robots to illustrate this is sheer ingenuity), and the music that comes with its packaging delivers some of the best hardcore pieces of the year so far. Originally branding themselves as a screamo band, Limbs’ “Everything Under Heaven” feels more like a mini compendium of the wider punk umbrella than a one-note act. There is something for everybody, and the way the band incorporated these different elements is commendable. Breakdowns come from every which way, complex drum fills fly at break-neck speed, distortions come in full force. It is the rawness of hardcore you would come to expect going into this record, and more. Whether it’s the balls-to-the-walls skramz of “Transactional Rifle”, or the restrained chaos of “Metropolis of Salt,” or the multi-sectioned odyssey that is the title track, there is always a method to their madness. Meanwhile, there are moments of ambient and electronic music thrown across the album as the band exhibits their capabilities as producers, sometimes to complement the guitar-driven sections, sometimes to go along with the loudness of a song, and sometimes to be its own thing (“Second Survivor” comes to mind). Also worth noting are the contributions other artists have made to this album. Pry’s Jem Gallardo makes a major appearance in “Metropolis of Salt” as a co-writer and vocalist. switchbxtch, also known for releasing protest music, especially during the pandemic, also lent a hand. Now I would be remiss to write about “Everything Under Heaven” and not discuss the themes the band explored in the album — rather, the stories the album was built around. “Everything Under Heaven” is centered around the mass injustices of the Philippine government on the poor, spanning many faces of human rights violations and terror-induced state formation in rural parts of the country. It is the underlying, horrifying truth the band tries to bring forth to its listeners. “Metropolis of Salt”, for one, outlines a gruesome image of starvation faced by the poor in the midst of a violent clash with the state’s forces. The single “Hope Belligerent” is more specific with its narrative as it explores the Tinang 83 incident in chilling detail. True to their roots as activists and members of ARPAK, Limbs outwardly express their disdain towards the state and its forces, whether clad in blue or green. Using their art as a conduit, the band not only wishes to bring awareness to the people, but encourages everyone to break free from all moral restraints and share the same burning spite. Like a steel Eldritch creature you cannot look away from, “Everything Under Heaven” is enormous in scale and in essence. It is packed with collaborations, a bevy of musical influences, and songs that will leave you dizzy from all the headbanging you’ll end up doing. Its enormity is ever-so-present in its packaging. But looking past the exterior, you’d inevitably come across the horrors it eagerly wants to tell you. You either look away, or you face them and do your part in this movement for change and for justice. Support the art & the artist: [bandcamp width=350 height=470 album=894523801 size=large bgcol=ffffff linkcol=0687f5 tracklist=false]
TRCK REVIEW: PETTE SHABU – bulbulin ka na
Written by Louis Pelingen & Elijah P. When it comes to looking further into the hip-hop that rumbles in eclectic and queer stripes, Pette Shabu follows through with pure, uncompromised ethos. From the multiple tracks she has released so far, she never dumbs down her brand of transgressive hip-hop tapestries as she nimbly steps into boom-bap production and stomps roughly into bruising experimental production, all while she knits and staples her eccentric bars with an upfront delivery that’s all deft and bold. Working in the realms of surrealist lyricism and absurd rhyme schemes, Pette Shabu operates at a level of a beast walking the runway. ‘Bulbulin ka na’ shows Pette Shabu working in horseboyy’s shambling soundscape — not to put her targets into a roasting, but rather into an explosion. There are incendiary lyrics hiding behind her writings, and Pette’s unabashed presence shines in Phoenix-like proportions. It starts off with an introduction that may come off as a snarky warning, but it then follows through with Pette entering the fray with a whip, lashing away against those who dare try to fuck with her. There is a little bit of Arca’s trans-assertiveness that is embodied here, albeit Pette’s neck-cracking wordplay and rhyme patterns allow her snappy delivery and her bars to sting deeper, spinning you around with bruises all around you. With horseboyy’s buzzing production amplifying Pette Shabu’s lyrical and vocal ferventness, Pette Shabu cuts above and delivers a whiplash of a song. It’s sassy and pointed, with clever bars arranged around her unabashedly queer language that topples down her targets with a flick, never backing down without a fight. You may want to listen to what she has to say, or else you might be caught slipping under her radar. Support the art & the artist: