Written by Aly Maaño Malaybalay, Bukidnon, dubbed as the South Summer Capital of the Philippines, is a city nestled between lush mountains and picturesque landscapes. These lands, which birthed forests and historical parks, are also home to emerging artists like Aleeza Dawn Ellevera. Calling herself enfloeia for this musical project, the 19-year-old fuses indie, pop, jazz, and alternative sensibilities to create songs that seem to be taken straight from her diary. After releasing her first single in 2024, enfloeia carefully planted the seeds to bring “Saturnine Pursuits” into full bloom. Each song in this six-track EP is like a flower petal pressed into the pages of a journal—its unique shape and desaturated color bleeding through the thin paper, revealing dark secrets and confessions. Starting with the track “Going in reverse,” enfloeia lets us pry into her thoughts through cellophane drums and guitars and lyrics that mark the “x” in existential. It’s an upbeat starter with melodies that careen playfully into the pre-chorus and build to the hook. After the sprightly listen, we are greeted with somber keys of “to…,” the artist’s debut single. In contrast to the first track, “to…” eases us into euphonious jazz-pop rhythms and vocals that carry a wistful undertone. “FROGCRUSHER!” is possibly one of the best tracks in the entire project. Here, enfloeia’s aptness for writing poetry shone the most. The lyrics are dark, brooding, and morose—the kind that makes you wish you wrote them yourself. In between ambient nature sounds, soft ukulele strums, abrupt violin tremolos, and frogs being crushed, enfloeia’s haunting vocals distort into overlays and harmonies that add a theatrical element to the song. If you listen closely, a part of the previous song’s melody is hidden in “FROGCRUSHER!’s” bridge, where enfloeia’s overlapping voices can be heard, figuratively illustrating the human tendency to push people away despite craving meaningful connection. The shorter tracks of the EP, “you/have,” and “Poor Dreamer,” share similar structures but carry different emotional depths. “you/have” expresses feelings of jealousy towards a partner for having the privileges of being a man, while “Poor Dreamer” is a peronal anecdote on the frustrations of being discouraged from pursuing what you’re passionate about. Even with the minimalist approach to instrumentation, enfloeia tugs on the listener’s heartstrings at every transition until the very end. In a full-circle moment, “In Pursuit of Greatness” brings us back to the beginning of this saturnine ode—in a frantic and confused state. Being at wit’s end, enfloeia further showcases her vocal prowess and versatility as she belts the chorus, a signature formula in the opening track. As it ends, the repeating line “I’ve become so saturnine…” echoes like the voice in your head you’ve been accustomed to hearing and accepted as a part of you. A testament to her commitment to music, “Saturnine Pursuits” is enfloeia’s attempt to remind us and herself that sitting with the discomfort and uncertainty of it all is part of the process. With this EP as a starting point, it’s exciting to know how she will continue to turn her garden of woes into a kaleidoscopic flowerfield. And if there’s one thing about enfloeia’s style, it’s the way she delivers lyrics that hit at the right moment. Through hushed verses and belted choruses, enfloeia evokes strong feelings that ponder on self-worth and the struggles of being a young musician. Support the art & the artist:
Tag: Indie Pop
TRACK REVIEW: SAINT LAWRENCE – SO U
Written by JK Caray Sometimes, The Best Thing Ever™ disguises itself as something arbitrary. In the case of SAINT LAWRENCE, his debut track “SO U” first came from that familiar itch of needing to create something, despite all limitations. Made out of a awkwardly tuned guitar, a catchy hook, and the feeling of losing your spark, “SO U” is a song about burnout that ironically helped its writer avoid burning out. Right from the start, nothing could prepare you for the intense wave of emotions. The eclectic drum patterns and rigid glitches convey a sense of helplessness, being bitter at one’s predicament. The production is flawless for a debut track, with little elements like the occasional glitch adding to the steely vibe. Here, SAINT LAWRENCE’s performance is brooding yet intimate, carefully alternating between soft whispers and screaming with all the guts he can muster. Each detail builds into a satisfying breakdown that washes everything along with it. It’s a once-in-a-blue-moon moment whenever an upcoming artist defines precisely what they want to do with their music, but it’s as if the stars aligned for SAINT LAWRENCE, given how polished his craft is. “SO U” not only provides a backdrop of what’s to come, it shoves you headfirst into the mayhem that is SAINT LAWRENCE. Support the art & the artist:
SOUNDS OF THE SEA: jorud (Singapore)
Singaporean musician Jared Lim has been playing a significant role in various mainstay acts over the past couple of years, whether in his local country or elsewhere. Being the guitarist and producer of bands like Sobs and Subsonic Eye, as well as providing production assistance for Blush and The Purest Blue are just some of those notable credits. His ear for production sticks in your ear once you hear it: blissful synth chops, colorful instrumental mixes, and crisp vocal emphasis. A balancing act of sharp melodies and sparkling textures that are never put out of scale. An ability that only comes from very skilled producers who know how to leverage the mix without disruption. At some point, if he can help produce these songs for these bands, certainly, he can write songs for himself, too. Soon enough, that is what he just did. Donning the solo project Jorud, he pulled together his debut album, aptly titled ‘The Song’. This is Jared Lim expressing the colors that he has brushed over before, now splattered on a sonic canvas that is his own. Whether that be the saturated 80s ambiance on “Am”, speedy waves of breakbeats on “Harm”, chilled out dance beats on “Wannastop”, or the chiptune accents across surfing guitars on “Have It”. He has these soundscapes all layered out. Of course, it is not just him who gets the play around in these songs. Pauline Rana of The Purest Blue, Cayenne of Sobs, and elo elo provide contributing vocals in most of the album, filling the prismatic space with their friendly presence. Creating this slice-of-life feel where wholesome connections create more smiles along the way—shining the brightest on the title track’s sunny indie pop, “Friend” with its coat of shimmery hyperpop, and the raving, glitchy EDM of “Wideview”. The word “joyous” is the best way to describe what Jorud has put together with his debut album. A brisk walk in the park is remembered most due to the unabashed display of melodies and textures that are overall jubilant and vivid. These might be just a collection of songs, but once you hear them, you can’t help but turn your frowny days into smiley days. *The interview is edited with brevity and clarity: LP: When I hear your artist name, Jorud, I imagine someone who’s chill and lively. What was circulating in your head when you were figuring out the identity of your solo project? Lim: Actually, this project is kind of the first real music project I ever did when I was 15. I picked a stupid name that I don’t want to change, because I have all the URLs on Bandcamp and SoundCloud or whatever. It started when I was 15, [I was] learning how to use Ableton, and [was] just putting out stuff that I made on SoundCloud. Yeah, [there’s] not much thought to it, but I guess now, it’s been 10 years. So, I just felt like, “Uh, I should kind of do this properly.” See how it feels like to make an album and put it out properly and promote it and stuff like that. Yeah. LP: You mentioned that you were using Ableton at the age of 15. What invited you to do production work during those times? Lim: Before I started making my own stuff, I was making chiptune covers of songs. I’ll put them on YouTube. I did a few like CHRVCHES [covers], you know the band CHRVCHES? LP: Yes! Lim: Yeah, I did a few chiptune remixes of their songs, and they posted one of them on their Facebook. I was like 14, I was freaking out. Yeah, that’s kind of how it started. I was just making covers for fun, and then it led to making my own stuff. LP: How long have you been conceptualizing and working on your debut project? Lim: Some of the songs on it actually started quite a while ago, maybe like a year or two ago. But I didn’t properly think I was making something until, I think, it was December last year. I had the idea to send this instrumental track that I made three years ago to Pauline from [The Purest Blue]. I had that instrumental on my laptop for a few years and didn’t really know what to do with it until I had a sudden spark of inspiration. I decided to send it to her because I thought she would do something cool, and she did. That was December last year, and then from then on, I spent maybe three months combing through old ideas and making new stuff, and I just turned it into an album. LP: Speaking about those collaborations with Cayenne, Pauline, and Elo Elo. Did you have them in mind while creating the album, or were they a last-minute afterthought? Lim: [It’s] kind of a bit of both because, honestly, this whole album was like a last-minute afterthought. I made everything really quickly, but I always had those specific vocalists in mind for each song. The song with Elo Elo that actually just came out today [July 10, 2025], [it] originally was a remix I did for fun for this band that I’m working with. And that was more than a year ago. But I liked it too much that I wanted to keep it for myself. And Hui Jun (Elo Elo) heard that remix quite a while ago, and she said she liked it. So when I started working on the album, I was like, “Oh I should reuse that and I’m gonna ask her to sing on it”, and she did. LP: You said that, for three months, you tried to quickly comb through your ideas for this album. During that process, were you inclined to listen to music a lot, or did you just completely lock in on what you had in mind and never listen to anything that might disrupt those ideas? Lim: I feel like, generally, just in everyday life, I
EP REVIEW: Wuji Wuji – NOVISION
Written by Adrian Jade Francisco Alt-fusion Wuji Wuji has always been a six-piece defined by motion. Their sonic palette constantly twists, turns, unravels like a loose thread, and is always in flux. From jazz-funk rhythms to the dreamy allure of city-pop, now they’ve peeled it all back, exposing ”NOVISION,” a six-track extended play hot out of the oven: fresh, with a warm, experimental bite. This sophomore release is a deliberate act of destruction and reconstruction, preserving some past elements but shedding the hip-hop influences entirely from “NOSOUL.” Drenched in brooding basslines and reverb-heavy guitar, “Times a Crime” and “Push & Pull” carve the emotional core of the EP. The title track “NOVISION” is to surrender to zero gravity, lost in the space of vocal layers and synths that hum like a distant past. It projects exactly what it needs to: a sense of suspension before the EP concludes, acting as a transition to the second half. “Careless” and “Words Hurt” leave things taut, not unresolved. These tracks lay a pivotal point in the EP, deliberately placing the listener in a state of emotional inertia and reflecting a measured evolution in Wuji Wuji’s sound. “NOVISION” was created during a period of identity struggle for Wuji Wuji, a bold, risky move that marks a turning point in their discography, defying expectations that they would lean further into the city-pop path laid out by 2023’s “Kanluran.” But that shift isn’t a misstep; Instead, it reflects their growing curiosity in production and willingness to explore unfamiliar territory. Wuji Wuji doesn’t just change direction; they embrace uncertainty as part of the process. Whether this marks a sound caught mid-metamorphosis or a new era, “NOVISION” proves that the group admires movement more than comfort, and that’s exactly what makes them worth following. SUPPORT THE ART & THE ARTIST:
ALBUM REVIEW: unikko ijo – kung ipagdaramot ang nadarama, saan ba tayo pupunta?
Written by JK Caray With worn-out confessions scattered across his discography, unikko ijo’s brand of writing has earned him a special place among yearners who cover his songs on a dying digicam or create intricate lyric art that gets passed around their timeline. But after half a decade of writing unrequited ballads, the solo artist seems to have hit a checkpoint. His latest album entitled “kung ipagdaramot ang nadarama, saan ba tayo mapupunta?” shows a different resolve from the same artist who understands a little more about what it means to love. “malayo sa lupa ang bituin” starts the album at its lowest point, thematically. The blaring electronic pianos set an alluring backdrop alongside his defeated quips as unikko ijo contemplates whether it’s worth it to keep loving. Amidst its catchy melody that predates virality, the song also asks the most important question yet, “itatago nalang ba ang nadarama sa iyo?”. Throughout the album, he gradually builds up his answer. Halfway, songs like “kakaiba,” “matiwasay,” and “sapat nang hindi ka magsalita” fluffs up that familiar melding of Manila sound and lo-fi bedroom pop unikko ijo’s known for. The production is much more polished while retaining those intimate imperfections that drive home the sincerity in his words. As always, the solo artist is effective at building choruses that plant themselves in your eardrums. The simple song structure in the form of drum loops and hooky guitar riffs serves not only as a vessel but as the driving force for his talent at infiltrating your emotions with his intimacy and relatability. In “Hiwaga”, we get unikko ijo’s answer in the form of a question that bears the name of the album. “kung ipagdaramot ang nadarama, saan ba tayo pupunta?” shares the sentiment that fruitless longing gets us nowhere. Those unspoken words, stolen looks, and hidden letters all turn to rot on their own. In hoarding your feelings and creating your own stories, you’ve built an inescapable tower, becoming a reminder that self-contained devotion can be selfish. What good does our silent pining do if it’s not to be seen? To be felt? To be transformed into another thing? Where do these intense emotions linger if not become the catalyst of our self-destruction? It may sound harsh for some and inspiring for others, but this is a truth that most of us have forgotten. After all, what use does love have if not shared? The key to all this seems obvious. A line in “malayo sa lupa ang bituin” goes “babaguhin ko ang sarili ko”, a phrase that explains how the singer-songwriter sees the shift in his perspective that led to this album. At a glance, unikko ijo may seem like the type of artist who only has one gimmick, but this release reveals how he is capable of pushing the envelopes of his niche. “kung ipagdaramot” is the kind of album that emerges when an artist becomes aware of the clichés that surround his music and evolves along with it. SUPPORT THE ART & THE ARTIST:
ALBUM REVIEW: Michael Seyer – Boylife
Written by Faye Allego During the peak years of the Bedroom music era, Michael Seyer was indeed in his bedroom and making music described as “Beachy Stoner Rock,” Alternative Dreampop, and even Hypnagogic Pop. However, his body of work is far from your typical bedroom sound: his debut album, Ugly Boy, is like that one SB-129 episode from SpongeBob in the way that existential longing and loneliness are its primary themes; in “Bad Bonez”, Seyer reconstructs a warm, aching sorrow that would be heard instead of being seen in an Edvard Munch painting; and in A Good Fool, a newer, heavier wave of tenderness that was slightly hinted in his Nostalgia EP tugs your heartstrings with more depth than any of his previous work. In Boylife, Michael Seyer doesn’t offer a coming-of-age bedroom pop anthem or a grand expedition on the epic highs and lows of navigating masculinity in the Fil-Am diaspora. Released under his brand new, independent DIY label Seyerland, the new album shares the same warm, subtle hues from his previous work through his persistent use of slow-moving percussion, delay effects, a mushy vignette of white and brown noises, and his loosely subdued vocals — only that this time, Seyer’s lair of creativity sheds layers of existential tensions and packs in horizons of growth, reflection, and endless love. Taking inspiration from John Lennon’s Plastic Ono Band where Lennon randomly adds a Cookie Monster adlib in “Hold On” to make the song more fun, personal, and maybe even hint an inside joke that the listener can’t understand, Seyer surely reflects on these quirks: forming his own knicks and bolts to create an effect in a dozen tracks of pure sound and soul that is 100% his own unique story. It’s a risky yet intimate act of connection between the songwriter and the listener when the former writes music for their own reflections only. We see Seyer take that risk in Boylife, dissecting boyhood through the overarching theme of his art: nostalgia. His unfiltered essence then transforms into shared emotion, where tracks like “Folktales,” “Taylor,” and “I Want To Be Your Dog” become hymns, choruses, and letters that come from understanding and experiencing. The first three songs off of Boylife are a Dolly-effect zoom into where Michael Seyer is in his mind: he’s everywhere. The album begins as a sensory experience — it unfolds less like repetitive songs and more like a grounding technique for a young man realising that he has a place in this world, and now questions himself: “Is there something a man is supposed to become?” and even takes a jag at God to realise what love could mean in “Fiend,” where he sings “I need God, God’s not back.” With each passing track, being worried about Michael Seyer is a non-negotiable. “Don’t Worry” uses a descending melody as Seyer descends into a full-fledged crash-out– an honest yet cannon event for most people. Followed by a messy drum sequence in “Manlife,” the listener is then whiplashed at the very end as a nearly inaudible, muffled voice that is Seyer’s Father reaching out to him: “Hey Migs, it’s Dad, call me.” Perhaps it’s safe to say that sometimes, all it takes is a voice call from a loved one to snap back into the real world, or to look through a lens that isn’t so clouded with grain and distortion. Speaking of distortion, the latter end of Boylife shies away from the loudness and upbeat songs about growing pains and stays loyal to the Lennon-esque demos and outtakes approach, where the primary instrument is an acoustic guitar that is paired with timeless serenades of love poems and reassurances. The lines “We can be ghosts together/And we’ll disappear/ We can be ghosts together/ When there’s no one near” conclude and showcase Seyer’s most deeply quiet yet distilled form. He isn’t trying to resolve the chaos of Boyhood, he instead embraces it. He embraces the liminality, the softness, the ache. Michael Seyer gifts a scrapbook of memories through ambient noise, whispered admissions, squeaky yet steady vocals, certainly a Stratocaster of sorts, likely a second-hand synthesiser from the Glam Rock era, and lovesick lullabies that feel so intimate yet so profoundly universal. Michael Seyer doesn’t gift a resolution but more a revelation to himself: the revelation of becoming. Becoming a son, a boy, a man, an artist, a lover, a person, and all the feelings that come with that. Support the art and the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: tuesday trinkets – Cigarettes, Beer, & Stray Cats
Written by Noelle Alarcon Davao-based trio tuesday trinkets possess an eclectic demeanor to their name. Each of their heads is tinged with neon, and their personalities are written all over their cover art; From the distinctive ways they dress to the playful doodles over their faces. Their sound on the other hand? A promising, syrupy brand of power pop that would reverberate through the end of a 2000s chick flick. Endearing and reminiscent of good times long forgotten, like a trinket you dig up from a coat pocket on a random Tuesday. “Cigarettes, Beer, and Stray Cats,” tuesday trinkets’ debut single, is a bright, beaming introduction to what they have to offer. The plush guitar welcomes you: it’s fuzzed out enough to welcome you into a cozy atmosphere, but sharp enough to be radio-friendly. It’s a tasteful style akin to the way record label Dirty Hit crafts the whimsy of early aughts pop for the 21st century. Even the bass and drums are simple enough to let the song’s message shine through, zeroing in on delivering as much impact as possible. The thumping of the strings marches along the frets, a catchy bassline in between the tracks that makes way for the snare drum-drenched rhythm evoking as much nostalgia as it can. The band’s capabilities of writing catchy pop are audibly from experience; their influences undeniably nestle in between the lines. As early as their first single, they know how to tweak the blueprint to match their strengths. Their written word captures the zeitgeist of what it means to date in your youth. Smoking a pack of cigarettes together, feeding cats you consider your babies, and living for nothing else but the moment. It’s a love story plucked straight from Polaroids and crumpled, handwritten letters with promises written in cursive. Sure, there are plenty of other songs that sound like this one–but their awareness of what makes a song memorable shows that they’re headed in the right direction. It’s the simplicity of their approach that easily touches the listener. “Cigarettes, beer, and stray cats…” — the lyric echoes throughout the track until its conclusion. It’s such a simple set of words, but with the way tuesday trinkets paints the scene, they end up as components of moments you’ll relive until your very last breath. With a band as capable as them when it comes to invoking sentimentality, those who like to look back have a new shoulder to cry on. Whenever things get too heavy, there’s a pack of Marlboro reds, a cold bottle of beer, and a bunch of felines waiting to rest with you. Support the art and the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: Andrea Obscura – Garden
Written by Gabriel Bagahansol After two years of inactivity, indie pop singer-songwriter Andrea Obscura re-emerges with a track that sees her manifesting the affection of a lover to settle down and—much like vines on a fence—grow together. True to this song’s name, her latest single conjures images of a garden teeming with life, cultivated by a loving couple through a lifetime of care and attention. All the parts that make up this song were performed with a marked tenderness. Electric guitars radiate like gentle sunlight over plants rooted to the ground by a steady rhythm section. These plants, of course, are the words Andrea would love to say to the person she wants to grow this garden with. Flanked by many-layered vocals, she lets them know in simple terms just how much she pines for their company, how willing she is to open herself up for this person, and how the search for their intimacy has left her weak and restless. From the song’s midpoint onwards, a hook is sung like an incantation, as though she were summoning her future lover right in the middle of that very garden. The purity of Andrea’s desires and intentions manifests itself in the clean production of this recording, which graces the ears with clarity and at just the right volume. Here, she tends to an ecosystem of lush melodies with a careful but confident touch, and a voice so delicate, it almost puts the song at risk of fleeting away like a cloud in a clear sky. But just as much as a plant needs the right amount of sun and water to grow well, these are all what the song needs to bloom life out of your speakers. Calling back to the landscapes painted with words by romantics so long ago, “Garden” is for those who want to devote a part of their lives to someone in a very special place. Listen to this song a few times, and you just might start waltzing with an imaginary lover somewhere in a grassy field over and over until, one day, somebody’s holding on to your arms in a dance only the two of you will know very well. Support the art and the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: fitterkarma – Pag-Ibig ay Kanibalismo II
Written by Gabriel Bagahansol Love makes you look for extremes in the mundane. The moment you realize the person beside you is the one you want to be with for life, you will do anything and everything to make sure the rest of the world exists for just the two of you. Love is a delightfully selfish thing, and if it means gladly cutting people up to turn them into stew at a dinner for two, then so be it. fitterkarma starts off their latest single sounding like a quintessential OPM ballad band from the 2000s; the potent blend of acoustic guitars and powerful snare drums, along with such a forward, in-your-face vocal performance, captures the sentimentality still craved by all two decades on. It’s perfect. In fact, it’s a little too perfect. Give this song a different set of lyrics and this would’ve been a drop in a sea of other senti hits. But fitterkarma has chosen not to float gently over love’s comforting waves. Instead, they’re diving down a trench, going against deep-sea pressure to explore something more overwhelming within the dark depths of love’s waters. Consider the idea of sharing blood-drenched kisses after a night of devouring tons of unsuspecting people. Death and destruction invoke euphoria, fueling a utopian paradise that washes away each other’s sorrows. You wouldn’t need drugs for that: that’ll get you in trouble anyway. These unhinged desires are the heart and soul of “Pag-Ibig ay Kanibalismo II”. Beneath the comfort of the music is a captivating void willing you to feed into the most morbid of romantic impulses; from sharing warm adobo made with love and somebody’s heart, to letting each other’s blood become one through the lips. These images, and the musical performance that carry them, form an irresistibly gory metaphor for love. fitterkarma’s embrace of folk horror to define romance is a stunning defiance over the usual idea that purity in love is only clean. After all, one of the strongest expressions of love is the unconditional acceptance of the one in front of you. And sometimes, that means consuming each other and shutting down all there is around you until all that is left is a quiet, tranquil bliss. Support the Art and the Artist:
TRACK REVIEW: SHANNi – SSS (stuck song)
Written by Adrian Jade Francisco Marikina’s up-and-coming pop artist SHANNi decides to elevate the groove in her latest single. In “SSS (stuck song),” her soft Manila sound explores a funky city-pop environment, a dreamy but exuberant track that tackles the narrative of a push-pull dynamic in a relationship. “SSS (stuck song)” is a stark contrast from the past three singles in the area of her sound elements. The lush texture, infectious guitar, boogie-worthy synth, and piano layers revisit the era of retro-fueled rhythms. It is irresistibly catchy, pulling the listener into a repetitive whirl, much like the endless loop of a vinyl, right from the first listen. “SSS (stuck song)” and its lyrical construction does not stray away from her previous releases; Instead, the production takes the spotlight. While her ‘70s-esque torch ballad inspirations led her to venture into nostalgia-driven hits, it does not reinvent the homage it is leaning on. It lacks the innovative approach to the funk-rock and city-pop genre. Although SHANNi did not opt to introduce something fresh in the soundscape of the aforementioned genre, her ability to widen her palette may be a positive sign. SHANNi’s talent and skill are undeniable when she puts out replayable jams like “SSS (stuck song)” as she continues to explore her artistic facade. If she consistently maintains this momentum, she’s likely to produce more bangers that stick like gum, replaying over and over like this one. SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST: