Author: TFL

  • THE BEST FILIPINO RELEASES OF 2025

    THE BEST FILIPINO RELEASES OF 2025

    Filipino music continues to show its range and resilience across scenes and cities, with bands like Linger Escape shedding light to Bicol’s shoegaze scene with ‘We All End In The Same Place’. Elsewhere, SOS settled into a more steady and mature ground in their craft with ‘It Was A Moment’, a record shaped by patience, distance, and willpower. Meanwhile, WAIIAN’s ‘BACKSHOTS’ spent the year operating on what success means to him and what the rewarding tune of excitement sounds like when your friends have always stuck around for you. 

    What made 2025 stand out was this shared sense of grounding; Artists weren’t chasing trends as much as they were refining their voice, trusting their communities, and allowing time to do its work. Across regions and genres, releases felt deliberate and lived-in. Point to a scene that continues to move forward through consistency, craft, connection, and of course, a little bit of hype. 

    We saw standout releases from artists all across the spectrum, including the Hardcore Punk intricacies of Ghost Stories, the exploration of femininity in Barbie Almalbis’ ‘Not That Girl,’ the rawness of Man Made Evil’s self-titled debut album, the ultimate sci fye comeback, and Hazylazy’s approach to ‘Antagonisms,’ among many others. From indie rock and shoegaze to hip-hop, hardcore, pop, and club classics, these acts reflect the celebration of depth and diversity in Filipino music in 2025. 

    This list gathers the releases that stayed with us throughout 2025. We hope they find their way into your rotation into the new year. – Faye Allego 

    30. Fatigued – Negative Tide

    Though Emilio Gonzales is the solo force behind Fatigued, ‘Negative Tide’ speaks in a trio of narrators: Gonzales through his moniker, the voice of his Jazzmaster, and the ever-present murmur of emotional unrest. The guitar carries the story as much as the vocals do, blurred at the edges and a little bruised, guiding the regret with quiet intensity along Gonzales’ own introspection.  Love in absence, growth is failure, and yearning is confrontation. It stays catchy enough to hook, yet sad enough to bruise, tasting bittersweet like unfinished truths. In surrendering control, Gonzales proves unrest can still sound this tender and whole. — Faye Allego

    29. Bambu – They’re Burning The Boats

    Don’t mind the tiering on this list for now; just pay attention for a good minute: here are three reasons you should listen to Bambu’s latest project. 

    First, and most importantly, Bambu writes his lyrics as if our lives – as colonized peoples, as members of the “Global South,” as the disenfranchised and disempowered – depend on it. The rapper-activist has always spoken with a sense of urgency in the same vein as the saying “rap is the CNN of the streets.” It’s reportage broken down in verse and beautiful rhyme. Everything he speaks rings in the corridors of the present day.

    Second, even after more than two decades, Bambu’s sharp tongue has never dulled. The shattering of the wisdom he dispenses comes after his smooth delivery – never cold or calculated. Production, courtesy of Fatgums, addle Bambu’s lyricism to a hypnotic state. The heads already love this. 

    Third, ‘They’re Burning The Boats’ eschews Bambu’s wisdom that points towards the future. Empathy, political commentary, and emotive storytelling are common threads in Bambu’s body of work, but this time around, it comes in a different hue. Not too fiery, not too world-weary, but still quick enough to leave you slack-jawed. Listen to it. Right now. — Lex Celera

    28. Manny Most High – The Offering

    ‘The Offering’ is Manny Most High’s invitation to his stream of consciousness. In his debut album, the Australian-based, Filipino hip-hop artist extracts the genre’s essentials and contemporary derivatives to create something cohesive and self-aware. Tracks like “Father,” “8 Ball,” and “Hot Date” weave classic boom bap with hypnotic loops and atmospheric production to capture a visceral feeling. There’s also “Collapse,” which takes the characteristics of cloud rap and trap music to deliver melodic bars in lofi fashion, akin to Yung Lean’s style. The use of moody instrumentals along with Manny’s reverbed vocals intends to make each track feel like a recorded journal entry played over hazy beats. A true experimentalist, Manny Most High proves that constant reinvention is necessary for any quintessential creation. — Aly Maaño

    27. Bins – Body Project

    A producer and a DJ in Metro Manila’s underground music scene since 2012, Bins debuts with his EP ‘The Body Project,’ a spiritual four-track house project that reconciles the body and the soul through dance. The steady 4/4 pulse lassoes the body into a soulful swaying, reminiscent of the ecstatic clarity of 1970s gay spaces where the songs’ rhythmic structure was gospel. These favor groove over gesture, as they encourage endless dancing without ever feeling punishing. Bins showcases the genre’s simplicity with his funky and hypnotic synths. If house has always lived as the music between sin and salvation, Bins leans into that line with tenderness, and proves that bodily pleasure (that isn’t sex) can be a route toward something quite transcendent. — Jax Figarola

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    26. (e)motion engine – tell me how you f(e)el

    ‘tell me how you f(e)el’ is a mixed bag of bangers. With their single releases “boy” and “milk” finding a home in the debut EP, (e)motion engine takes the chance to flesh out their sound while still delivering on what made fans fall in love in the first place. The 6-piece project offers tracks that are moshpit worthy all the way to quiet contemplation. Ranging stylistically, they’re all unified in (e)motion engine’s unwavering need to be unapologetic in their vulnerability. It’s evident that no matter what direction they go with a track, they wear their hearts on their sleeve as they do it. Once the engine starts rolling, it’ll be hard to stop it.  — Rory Marshall

    25. A Side Boondocks – ANAK SA LIKING KAWAYAN

    Packed with heavy, blaring bass and a whole lot of attitude, A Side Boondocks show how boom bap is done right: think the Beastie Boys if they had the street cred to back up their music. Accompanied by quirky, pitched-up background vocals and immersive sound effects, this record is proof that sometimes, simple production taking the reins is more than enough. The aspects present in the music, though consisting of the most minute differences, are creatively deliberate and necessary in delivering the narrative they’re painting. The collective is unapologetically themselves in ‘ANAK SA LIKING KAWAYAN,’ every rise and fall of their intonation essential to punctuating the coolness they possess. — Noelle Alarcon

    24. OZO – That, I Know

    The story of friends starting a band rarely survives contact with ambition, but Oz Kabuhat has turned that tension into fuel. “That, I Know” unfolds like a laboratory test that never stops mutating. With the help of his loyal collaborators, R&B sits at the center, but the sonics keep getting bent out of shape, pulled toward art-rock abrasion, pop melodrama, and moments of deliberate ugliness. What makes the project compelling is not its genre play, but its refusal to settle into comfort. Kabuhat and his collaborators treat the songs like a moving target, rearranging emotion and texture in real time. Melodies arrive, get interrupted, then return bruised; “That, I Know” suggests a Gen Z artist documents the sound of a band learning how far it can push itself before something breaks and deciding to push further anyway. — Elijah P.

    23. Ghost Stories – Immortalized By Poetry

    Bearing the brunt of an increasingly apathetic world focused on serving the corporate overlords’ requests, the artists have learned to kill their dreams. When faced with the reality that being an artist is often not the most sustainable way of living, we force ourselves to abandon it or conform to what’s acceptable.

    That’s why whenever we learn about artists dying right at the cusp of greatness, we start to dream of macabre fiction. Fantasies that you may also be a misunderstood artist like Van Gogh, or too ahead of your time like Kafka was. 

    Laced with Greek mythology references and youthful idiosyncrasies, Immortalized by Poetry encourages you to keep creating even if nobody sees or hears. Centuries may pass, still, your likeness lives forever in the art you’ve created, proof that you once existed. A sound is still a sound around no one, after all. — JK Caray

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    22. stab – wounds of fury

    For twenty-four minutes, the members of Cebu hardcore band stab. waste no time yanking off their bandages. Except by the end of this, someone else’s blood will be spilling on the floor. The band thrashes and bashes in time while lead vocalist AnnieSTFU inflicts lacerations on all the worst kinds of men, the type that foul up any place where they make their wretched presence known, be it a personal space or the Batasang Pambansa. Each track on ‘wounds of fury’ is a yelp of anger, the violent end of a repression, the scream that sets off a chain of well-deserved revenge. — Eve Bagahansol

    21. &nd – Quarters

    On their first collection of songs, the Bacolod-based band &nd play reliably warm and comfortable dreampop with infectious hooks and dazzling textures. But instead of trying to fill both of your ears and taking up the aural space, they opt to let their sounds dissolve together into a hazy bliss that radiates out from the middle, making you feel as though you’re towing the line between a dreamstate and a late-night TV movie.

    One compelling quarter from this EP is the song “Best Of Luck,” where the thrill of romance is turned into an impressionistic landscape painted with swelling guitars, free-flowing words, and a vocal performance that will have you imagining how things would’ve been like if Taylor Swift had sold her acoustic guitars and bought effects pedals fifteen years ago. — Eve Bagahansol

    20. RamonPang – The Answer Breaks

    Leave it to a Fil-Am to dip their toes in club music–whether it’s artists like Ramon Pang himself or the roots of Jocelyn Enriquez, Fil-Am artists bring the bounciness of Filipino quirkiness to Western soundscapes. The buildups in Pang’s music are careful, considerate, giving you a few moments to survey the dancefloor before fully losing yourself in the beat. Each track gets richer as the runtimes move forward, every additional component enriching, never overstepping, the foundations he forms. Decorating liminal synth spaces with the grittiness of UK garage and four-on-the-floor house percussion, Pang’s sample-laden single is a product of the sounds of his past, expressed with utmost authenticity through the pure love of the game. — Noelle Alarcon

    19. Sci Fye – 2092

    sci fye’s ‘2092’ sounds like a transmission from a future where burnout, corporate dread, and small acts of rebellion mix into the same daily loop. The album moves through interludes and sharp turns that track the vocalist’s frustrations and moments of disillusionment. It feels like a rock record pieced together during a long commute, where thoughts drift between quitting, escaping, and tearing everything down just to feel something. Highlights such as “Drown It Out,” “N,” “Song,” and “Bastard” shift between melodic stretches and sudden left turns that keep the listener slightly off balance. 

    Moreover, sci fye is not interested in predictability. The band uses feedback, distortion, sharp rhythms, and emotional pivots to build a record that mirrors the instability of the world it imagines. ‘2092’ never settles into one identity. Instead, it captures a sense of urgency that feels familiar to anyone who has ever felt stuck in a system designed to drain them. It is a future that looks uncomfortably close and a soundtrack built for pushing against it.  — Elijah P.

    18. Linger Escape – We All End In The Same Place

    Naga City’s very own Linger Escape hit us with a cacophonous masterpiece this year. ‘We All End in The Same Place’ is the band’s first-ever official longform release, and it’s proving to be a long-standing pillar in the Filipino shoegaze genre. linger escape managed to create a palpable, sonorous whirlwind that’s nothing short of enthralling to the listener. A thick, resonant,  atmosphere of steady intensity built with their reverbed guitar distortion and vocals, either layered and melodic or gruff and harsh. With this being Linger Escape’s first ever album, it shows that this is just the tip of the iceberg for them, and is a prime example of what Naga’s, and the whole country’s shoegaze scene could offer. — Rory Marshall

    17. Megumi Acorda – Sun Blanket

    When the ‘Unexpectedly’ EP dropped, the local scene was introduced to Megumi Acorda, and soon, she formed a quintet fluent in longing, translating dusk-colored feelings into reverb, fuzz, and emotional afterglow. With 2025’s ‘Sun Blanket,’ the ache remains, but it burns warmer. Instrumentally, the EP moves with patience. The guitars are satisfyingly fuzzy without drowning the mix, hitting that sweet spot between shoegaze haze and garage band grit. The production is engineered and mastered with such delicate care that everything lands crisp to the ear, almost startling in its clarity. The lyrics are seasoned and conversational, delivered like late-night overthink texts rather than performed lines. What makes Sun Blanket work best is how naturally it matches the groove with the fuzz while maintaining that beloved garage band atmosphere. It’s unpolished in spirit, refined in sound. A warm, honest listen that sticks. “Sun Blanket” is undeniable proof that yearning, when handled by the right hands, can still shine.  — Faye Allego

    16. Michael Seyer – Boylife

    “Boylife” feels like the auditory version of Richard Linklater’s Boyhood, but now observed through the lens of Michael Seyer’s own coming-of-age stories. Through feathery vocals and weathered compositions, he carries emotions of his past and present. From a boy still confused about the world around him, feeling lonely and surveilled, to a man who wanders about his life, but now has people around him to keep him supported. 

    Michael Seyer’s process of growing up is emotionally complicated, but relatably honest. It’s not easy figuring those things out altogether, but for him, he carries a balm singing them all out. It’s a blanket of truth cushioned by an 80’s singer-songwriter palette, a way of recalling memories that’s simultaneously reminiscent and contemporary. — Louis Pelingen

    15. SOS – It Was A Moment

    Follow-ups that take so long to stew don’t always tend to work out in the end, but fortunately to everyone involved, SOS embraced their past slip-ups and turned them into a note of change. ‘It Was A Moment’ is a long-awaited follow-through whose moments always mature. A growing up phase of the band steeped in dusting off the shelves, seeing each other to parse through what just happened for the past 7 years, and moving forward with an assured glint in the eye. 

    This is maturity that’s stamped over to their musicality. Performing in and out of the studio, where romantic statements are laced in introspection, mid-2010s synth-inflected pop evokes more grooves and refinement, and expanded their writing capabilities, going so far as to write songs in Tagalog with pure confidence. Growing up can sure be a weird moment, and for SOS, they’ve done the work for the better. Leading up to this moment, that’s very much worth the wait. — Louis Pelingen

    14. Djuno – Moonrats

    Djuno’s ‘Moonrats’ feels like an internal monologue cracked open and scattered across an album. The debut full-length carries the tone of someone who spends most nights awake, sorting through feelings through folders that arrive too fast to name. The production leans toward lo-fi textures that fade in and out like unfinished drafts and demos, but the songwriting underneath has intention even when it sounds frayed at the edges. Tracks such as “Phlegm,” “Menthol Song,” “Dead Horse,” and “Drenched in Amber” move between digital melancholy and confession. 

    The album creates its world from scraps of synths, fragile vocals, and moments where emotion spills out before it can be edited down via DAW. “Moonrats” sits outside the usual language used to describe ‘sadcore’ because Djuno is not interested in fitting into that mold. The work feels more personal than dependent on genre. It is a debut that finds charm in its unease and clarity in the kind of mess that most artists avoid showing. — Elijah P.

    13. Chezka – Misfire 

    There is something beneath the shimmer of pop culture virality found within Chezka’s music.  Her viral success has landed, among other things, a deal with Underdog Music, producer credits on a Joyner Lucas and Jelly Roll track (crazy, I know), and hundreds of streams on her first EP, ‘Misfire,’ a five-track collection of songs she has built over the years. Her breakthrough did not come overnight. “Misfire,” the EP’s title track, was composed in segments the artist had shared on TikTok years ago. 

    As her voice coos and falters in hush tones over a soft guitar, she follows the same trajectory of introspective folk-pop you can expect from the likes of Clara Benin and NIKI. But the images she conjures are too specific, maintaining a point of view that she can call her own. Somewhere, sometime, someone’s emotional wounds are yet to be tended by this EP. Many things bloom in silence, but the weight of emotional anguish can only be lifted by a song like “What Could’ve Been.” — Lex Celera

    12. Ligaya Escueta – Dollweb

    Ligaya Escueta’s sophomore album chronicles that moment when a teenager turns 18. And nothing happens… yet. You don’t change immediately, but somehow the world expects you’re already an adult with valid IDs to fill and voting responsibility. It’s a dizzying experience that rarely gets talked about, making Dollweb feel like a breath of fresh air in the saturation of coming-of-age releases.

    Throughout the album, Escueta’s prodigious sense in penning infectious hooks and well-placed dynamic shifts shines through. Bearing her alt-rock influences on her sleeves, she fashions them in a way that makes even your uncle, who’s a Smashing Pumpkins fan and religiously swears by Pinkerton, itching to ask, “What song is that?”. For a talent still at the onset of her career, Dollweb is the kind of album that puts Escueta on the radar for everyone to pay attention to. — JK Caray

    11. emma bot – Radio Emma

    With pop-punk energy that never lets up throughout its fourteen tracks, ‘Radio Emma’ is lightning in a bottle. From its explosive opening track, “C.O.T.Y.” all the way to closer “Bottle Rocket,” it’s an album that relentlessly bombards you with catchy riffs and harmonies, but also knows when to let the listener breathe. And that’s not to mention the samples from old cartoons such as Spongebob or Hey Arnold! that simply exude a sense of thoroughly belonging to this generation, a generation holding on to youth for dear life. Emma bot invites you to join them in celebrating this youth for one last time before we finally come of age.

    It’s an invitation that is certainly very enticing, with its melodies that harken back to pop-punk’s heyday and lyrics that anyone grappling with growing up can relate to. Radio Emma sounds like it was pulled straight out of the venues of the underground and put into a form that you can tune into any time you want. — Francine Sundiang

    10. orteus – surgery

    Surgeries are considered the last choice in medical procedures for a reason. When all treatments have been exhausted and options have been narrowed down to one, you’ll have to rely on the art of precise laceration. 

    At first, it’s the promises of light at the end of the tunnel that prompt an operation. Leave your old self. Fix everything in an instant. Mend a broken body. From a cynical perspective, surgery comes off as a barbaric medical practice only reserved for those too scared of their own mortality. For another, it’s a symbol of a person’s unwavering determination to fight and continue living. 

    orteus’ surgery submerges itself in morbid imagery and disturbing words, an aesthetic built as a coping mechanism. Whether it’s fixing a doomed relationship or changing into someone else, surgery takes us through a procedure that radically changes us down to the cellular level. If it gets better or goes south, we’ll just have to keep listening to find out. — JK Caray

    9. Alisson Shore – MEMENTO MORI

    Alisson Shore approaches ‘MEMENTO MORI’ as a filmmaker arranging a story that unfolds in fragments. The album introduces a love that grows, bends, and eventually turns on itself. The concept holds because he treats emotional collapse with as much detail as the early moments of connection, rinse and repeat in the process. Tracks such as “Lason,” “DOD,” “Kapangyarihan,” and “Sarili Muna” shift in tone and tempo to match the instability of the narrative. His voice drops, rises, and slips in and out of the cliches of melodic writing as if each section belongs to a different version of the same character. 

    The production treats tenderness and violence with equal weight. Nothing is exaggerated, but everything hits with clarity. ‘MEMENTO MORI’ traces the cost of devotion and the consequences that follow when love becomes a cycle with no exit point. The album ties its concept together without losing the rawness that makes it work. It is a portrait of affection turning on itself and the uneasy realization that sometimes the antagonist is the person in the mirror. — Elijah P.

    8. Hazylazy – ANTAGONISMS

    The woes of life are constant. Most of us ignore them, run from them, all in an effort to cope. But ‘ANTAGONISMS’  posits there’s a different way. Laguna’s resident fuzzmonger Hazylazy confronts them head-on, finally removing the mask of complacency while declaring enough is enough; antagonising them in the long gruelling process. Exploring the frustration that comes with the monotony of life, and how that could weigh down on someone’s day-to-day life, Jason Fernandez’s brainchild wades through these emotions from start to finish. The album’s themes are usually dealt with internally, alone and in silence, but for Hazylazy, he bursts out the prison-walls of the mind through in-your-face, headbang-worthy fuzz rock.

    5 years is a long time, but when it comes to ‘ANTAGONISMS,’ it was worth the wait. The record at large is tinged with melancholia, but what Hazylazy masterfully understands is not to shroud it with distortion and noise, but rather to highlight and put in the forefront of his sound, and in that way, it provides much-needed catharsis to the listener.— Rory Marshall

    7. Feng – What The Feng

    Feng knows how to be young, and more impressively, he knows how to bottle youth and re-release it like a vapor-sealed time capsule with a giant zebra print wrapped around the glass. Replying to a comment from his “Kids From The West” music video, he fondly insisted that the hipster zeitgeist of the 2010s was “not a concept, it’s a lifestyle.” It’s a playful line, but it also functions as an aesthetic thesis for his 2025 debut, ‘What The Feng,’ a compact, 16-minute record that resurrects the cloud rap spirit through the saturation of memory, adolescence, and even a tinge of twee. 

    This time, ten years ago, the internet was glitter-loud with Snapchat filters and sepia tints were nowhere near to be found on the presets of VSCO Cam; it was a period defined by curated hipster softness, blurry sincerity, and even ironic self-mythology. Think: Zendaya Swag era. With Feng, his simple lyrics and glass-light punchlines sonically occupy that time period, toppling that nostalgia with unserious flexing that defined early underground cloud rap circles. The production on ‘What The Feng’ feels engineered for headphones and skateboard rides after school– it’s full of glossy synths, punchy 808s, and mixdowns shimmering with euphoria. Feng casts a spell in how eargasmic the beats feel, especially given the runtime, almost like the rush of adolescence. — Faye Allego

    6. Daspan En Walis – Askal Projection Vol. 1

    Equipped with more than just Juan Dela Cruz’s swagger, Daspan En Walis answers the noise of the present and modern malaise in ‘Askal Projection Vol. 1’. Drawing from a hardcore punk upbringing, the band deliver a barrage of hard rock with demanding, street-smart hooks often found in hip-hop.

    For all their righteous fury, Daspan En Walis saves their biggest switch-up for last: the glorious funk metal number, “143 (Will You Memorize),” celebrating an irrepressible romance with lyrics about lips tasting sweeter than Mango-flavored Zest-O. This infectious sweetness provides a sharp contrast to the rest of the EP, youthful struggles, financial precarity, and the will to rebel against authority. ‘Askal Projection Vol. 1’ is  rugged, raw, and charmingly imperfect. They’ve captured the sound of an askal—fierce enough to face the streets and smart enough to critique the system while rocking a defiant tongue-in-cheek grin. — Adrian Jade Francisco

    5. Barbie Almalbis – Not That Girl

    As one of the most influential alternative women artists of the 2000s, Barbie Almalbis returns to declare a hopeful reflection and celebration of the life she’s carried through the years in her latest studio album. ‘Not That Girl’ embellishes her earlier acoustic indie sensibilities with pop-rock experimentation—heavier guitars that contour the angelic voice we’ve already loved and lyrics that sparkle faith-lit optimism. 

    The opener “Desperate Hours” builds you up for a rough-hewn resilience, the overall theme of the record. Then, the metal-tinged “Platonic” and “ALL U WANNA DO”, which are her love letters to the mosh pits in her gigs, push her into sincerely unfamiliar sounds. Still, she has her signature aria-like grace. 

    Evidently, the record traces her emotional journey, in how she calibrates her strength to let faith heal side by side. And when the closing songs gesture back to her early sonic palette, they arrive nostalgic yet affirming. They remind us that growth doesn’t require erasing who you were. — Jax Figarola

    4. aunt robert – goodbyes forever

    In ‘Goodbyes Forever’, Aunt Robert proves that you can never go wrong with being honest with yourself. Even if the music would make you feel angry, or just straight up feeling these whirlwinds of emotions, alongside Gabe Gomez’s stellar solo project. Ever the sincere, prolific songwriter that she is, her debut album is 30 minutes of reading the sentiments written in your diary that you never expected to hear out loud.

    With a whimsical lilt to her tone, nostalgically muffled vocal production, and playful, fluttering percussion, there’s a clear homage to the era Aunt Robert is trying to reference. There’s just the right amount of fuzz in the strings to paint the hazy sound of yesterday; the record’s strategic mixing and stylistic choices are essential tools in complementing her effective storytelling.

    The inviting, approachable quality of ‘Goodbyes Forever’ plays a large part in creating its appeal–” ’til you want me” and “‘til you need me” are such simple phrases, but they are intensified with the level of vulnerability she utters them with. The coziness of her music is a blanket of sound, comforting and tucking you in. — Noelle Alarcon

    3. D Waviee – Epitome

    D Waviee understands that electronic dance music should be an invitation to the communal experience to which everyone should belong. If that’s the case, then “Epitome” is a dance floor that never puts its rhythms into maximum overdrive, but rather takes a different angle. She takes not just the listener, but the attendees of her composed dance floor to a glossy progression, one where D Waviee’s collection of beats, samples, and collaborations puts everybody in pure effervescence.

    Within its 55-minute runtime, D Waviee becomes a sound setter in control of the atmosphere. Constantly uplifting the mood, it is flushed with a transient tone that easily invites an open space where people can fully identify with their truest selves. This is the pulsating backdrop for the closeted queer and trans folks, where finally, they can finally illuminate what they tend to hide underneath. 

    The beauty of dance music is how it allows people to just groove from front to back, where shame is taken out of the scene and replaced with celebrating the colors that each individual carries along. ‘Epitome’ is simply that. Translucent, transformative, and transcendent. — Louis Pelingen

    2. Man Made Evil – Man Made Evil

    Soul numbers and hard rockers come by left and right within the OPM scene. But on their self-titled debut album, Man Made Evil leaves off the gloss you’ve come to expect in those kinds of songs and lets the imprecise but firm grip of their humanity slip through — unknowingly creating something that feels far grander. Across fifteen tracks that span an eclectic mix of genres, from slow dances and folk poems to power pop anthems and political commentary, this band combines cool and charming lyricism with tight musicianship, the latter of which is emphasized by the album’s closed-in sound.

    The generally sparse production allows for a sense of space that allows you to feel the intimacy of a well-rehearsed live performance, while also letting linger the doom & gloom of the times in which these songs were born to—and what the band’s name could be alluding to all this time. If music were a refuge within our downtrodden lives, we must let our defiance against darkness be known through it, and much like the bands that came up only half a century ago, Man Made Evil is proof that the genuine expression of our humanity will always persist in the face of relentless conformity.

    Mabuhay ang Pinoy rock. —Eve Bagahansol

    1. WAIIAN – BACKSHOTS

    Waiian’s uncompromising honesty has always been the heart he proudly wears on his sleeves. In ‘BACKSHOTS,’ this character (a.k.a. ‘Lods’) is further explored in its most bare, despite what its rather promiscuous album art may suggest.

    ‘BACKSHOTS’ is an act of contrition and a peek into Waiian’s hypothetical diary. In his confessions, he admits to playing by his own rules, being a true friend, making love, spreading hate, and having his fair share of regretful decisions. This album humanizes Waiian as much as it reveres him as ‘Lods’—building him up at the start as a prophetic figure destined to save the rap game, only to then turn him into a prodigal son of his own making, slowly proceeding towards enlightenment as the album progresses.

    ‘BACKSHOTS’ is bold. All caps, no asterisks. From his brandishing of self-importance in the exhilarating “MALAKING BIRD,” to his acceptance of a self-fulfilled life (“MAN IN THE MERROR,” “SOFTIE,” “SI LODS NA BAHALA”), Waiian has shown us in this album that he has come a long way since he embarked on his solo mission, and his spirit never broke.

    Though he admits that he may not give the best piece of advice, we can all learn a thing or two from the album. ‘BACKSHOTS’ does not always have to remind you of your self-flagellations. It can also be a look into the many possibilities that lie ahead in your journey of becoming your own ‘Lods’. —Nikolai Dineros

  • SABAW SESSIONS: OZO

    SABAW SESSIONS: OZO

    Learning to be Complete: Oz on OZO

    Interview by Hannah Manuel

    Beginning in the pandemic confined inside his bedroom in Quezon City, one must imagine that Oz Kabuhat did not have the premonitory insight of the artistry he was to grow into years down the line. 

    After all, who possesses a foresight of that magnitude at eighteen? 

    What Joshua Kabuhat did possess, however, was the guts to experiment with sounds and musical collaborators, providing the musician with a colorful portfolio of projects long before the Oz Kabuhat name was ever uttered. OZO’s own Luis Peczon and Pat Pagsuyuin, along with Joshua himself, once made up Anacreous, a psychedelic rock band that released tracks like “Killer Ape Theory”, “Celestials”, “The Cataract”, and “The Moon from Sicily” from 2020 to 2021. Scrounging the depths of Soundcloud procures __bamm.sakk, Kabuhat’s project with Brennan Ng, who would later come to be OZO’s lead guitarist. The experiential soundscape that “MAMBO” produces is the most experimental release that Kabuhat has put out to date, while traces of the artist’s signature falsetto appear in “All I Feel”. His deliberate nonconformity was impressive, but all the while oblique and aloof toward the listener. 

    Stepping foot inside OZO’s EP launch of That, I Know, you are immediately hit with a sense of homecoming. Kabuhat is a warm host, greeting guests who come up to him with congratulations as he darts through the venue, getting last-minute preparations ready for the first act of the night. Inadvertently, the collective that gathers on this one rainy evening in Chino Roces takes the shape of a retrospective of a body of work and life;It is this retrospective that Kabuhat and the rest of OZO seem to be continually inspired by. That, I Know is a classically experiential EP and traditionally avant-garde in the way that has since become expected of Kabuhat’s endeavors. But, there is a truthfulness that lives within the entire band, inducing a coming together of musical minds that proves even greater than the sum of its parts. 

    Kabuhat finally gives way to a simple honesty with OZO, and this honesty speaks for itself in That, I Know. Schoolmates, peers, mentors, and supporters all gather this evening, almost as a visual manifestation of the EP’s thematic core, which is experiencing life as life happens. It all goes to show that no man is an island, but he may be in a swimming pool with his friends, making the best music you’ll hear this decade.

    *This interview has been edited for clarity and brevity

    Hannah: You’ve shed the solo act in favor of a band—a family, as you’ve called it before. Talk to us through it.

    Kabuhat: These songs [started] with me and Luis, our bassist—we write together a lot. That’s the very beginning of the entire process, it starts with songwriting talaga…Hindi siya linear process for me na it has to start with songwriting, but this EP all started talaga with songwriting. I write it, I give a demo, they add their stuff, and then that’s what happens. It’s just as mundane as working on it together and passing it to the next bandmate.

    Hannah: Your vocal talents, which have taken us through the best of the different iterations of Oz Kabuhat, are a signature of your sound. How do you work with an asset as distinctly attributed to you while keeping things different?

    Kabuhat: I’m not really trying to brag in any way, but the challenge for me or maybe my band as well, is less of making my voice work but more on making sure that whatever experiment we do, is still us. We don’t consider my voice something difficult to apply to experiments; it’s really just more of how truthful our artistry is, no matter the experiment.

    Photo from Phoenix

    Hannah: OZO is made up of musicians who have paved their own paths in music over the years. Is there any discourse that goes on when sharing creative reign over a song with such a varied mix of musicians?

    Kabuhat: We have really different influences. Pat is really heavy on classical piano, Brennan is on the Bossa side, Jaime is a folky drummer, tapos me, experimental and electronic talaga. Honestly, you’d be surprised that there’s rarely any conflict in that creativity sense. As the producer, I think I have the capability to ensure na we have one direction and no matter how diverse the bandmates are, we produce the songs in a way na we can utilize their strengths. If that makes sense. When you think about it, there’s no clash because everyone’s using their skills in the songs, and I think that’s what makes the EP experimental. It’s really just because of the pursuit of our own artistry and being as honest as possible. It’s the umbrella for our music, honesty, and authenticity. It really makes everything work for us, especially since we’re all diverse.


    I’m not really trying to brag in any way, but the challenge for me or maybe my band as well, is less of making my voice work but more on making sure that whatever experiment we do, is still us.


    Hannah: You’ve also mentioned in the past that your genre-bending is motivated by “serving the song”. How does being nonconforming aid or provide difficulty in distinguishing yourself from past eras of yourself musically? 

    Kabuhat: There’s definitely some form of anxiety as to whether or not we’re gonna be perceived as a non-conforming band, because truth be told, we’re not. Our goal is not to be fluid in [the] sense that we have no focus. The EP is pretty experimental, and it edges whatever bound of genre the particular songs are in. But genre to us nowadays is just a tool that we utilize, because our main thing is emotion. That’s the genre in our head, if that makes sense. We just utilize genres to help the emotion that the EP is trying to portray, because like what we said, the EP is about life. It’s a general assumption of life, so the journey that the EP takes you is meant to reflect life. So, as much as possible, we really try to prioritize the emotions, and that leads us to experiment a lot. If it’s hard, yes, it’s a bit hard nga. Stripping away the genre of each song, there is one genre we’re following, which is jazz fusion and electropop, but since we prioritize the emotions per song, it tends to go heavier on this subgenre and heavier on that subgenre.

    Photo from OZO

    Hannah: You’ve described OZO as an act whose creative growth coincides with the band’s personal growth. Talk us through the creation process of “That, I Know” and how OZO grew as people while making the EP. 

    Kabuhat: I guess it took us almost a year writing and producing everything, the first [track] being “That I Know,” and then the last one we made was “Online”. And it’s six songs so nakakaintimidate, para na ‘tong album. I think kaya matagal din is because we were writing—I was writing—from the freshest emotions, like that was happening to me at that moment. It reflected my life because I was writing at that point in my life, if that makes sense. I wrote “Carefully” during the time my lola was going through something. It reflects our growth because we were writing [the EP] as we were just experiencing life as it happened, we wrote about that.

    Hannah: If anything, what is the one track you would pick that would reintroduce the band? 

    Kabuhat: “Only You”. Before, yes, I was writing from honesty and from the heart, but there were extra steps, so many extra steps I wanted to take because I wanted to sound very, very unique. Now, I just stripped all of that off and I’m just pursuing what’s real and what’s fun to us, and making music that we enjoy while being honest. I think it encapsulates that because that was the most fun I’ve had making a song, and it’s just gonna hopefully be the main priority from here on out, really just trying to make honest music and making music that we enjoy. In that way, I would reintroduce us with “Only You”.


    There’s definitely some form of anxiety as to whether or not we’re gonna be perceived as a non-conforming band, because truth be told, we’re not. Our goal is not to be fluid in [the] sense that we have no focus.


    Hannah: Emotions are what run the mechanisms behind this EP. What emotions of yours were the loudest leading up to the release of this EP?

    Kabuhat: Syempre, from a brand and business standpoint, there was undoubtedly a lot of anxiety and fear as to if this was gonna be received well or not. But I don’t think anyone gave it much thought, din. There was anxiousness, but were all just driven by how honest the work we did was and we were just so glad that we were making music that we truly enjoy and music that’s like wearing no masks on just us and just us enjoying our honest, if you know what I mean, We’re just pursuing our true selves like no matter what happens. So, it was a rollercoaster of emotions, but at the end of the day, it felt better knowing that we were putting out something that was like no masks on, just truth and honesty, and so much more fun than before.

    Hannah: How does collaborating with trusted collaborators and close friends unlock a new level of honesty?

    Kabuhat: Oh, yeah. That’s something I super duper advocate for, like any day of the week. You have to choose the people you work with on a daily basis. I think it’s common knowledge naman na if you’re really close to a good level with those you’re in a band with, I think it’ll resonate with your art that you guys are making music out of love, and out of joy. And it’s not just a job for you guys, alam mo yun? It’s not just some project, it’s something you guys are enjoying doing together. We try to reflect that specifically in this debut EP na we’re just—like our cover art. We’re just swimming, we’re hanging out. So, you want to be caught candidly living lang. That’s the whole theme of everything, it’s just us, we’re living, and the importance of being with a trusted group of people is something I keep advocating talaga. It’s super duper important for me and I think it shows with the work we put out and how close we are with each other.


    It was a rollercoaster of emotions, but at the end of the day, it felt better knowing that we were putting out something that was like no masks on, just truth and honesty, and so much more fun than before.


    Hannah: You’ve been making music with your current bandmates as early as senior high. Anacreous and __bamm.sakk, namely, were projects you took on with Luis, Pat, and Brennan, respectively. How do these past sounds and identities contrast with the most recent OZO?

    Kabuhat: I’m sure may hatak from my personal life yung mga ginagawa ko before. But yung highest priority ko before was to carve out something so unique and odd and new. No matter what genre I was in, I got into alt rock, I got into pop, a lot of electronic stuff. Before, my highest priority was to carve out something so unique na I’m not comparable to others. And how it contrasts to now, it’s just very different.

    Hannah: What did you choose to leave and take with you when you entered this new era with OZO?

    Kabuhat: Feeling ko hindi to sinasadya, it was just natural kasi diverse nga kami, pero the experimentalness [of the band]. I involuntarily brought that with me because it’s something we can do to make sure na everyone’s expressing well talaga sa band. Parang, it’s hard to follow a very conventional genre if we’re a very diverse group of artists. I think that’s something we naturally brought along with us in this new era, that experimental fusion of everything which is present in everything ever since bamm.sakk. If there’s something I left—I don’t want to call it pretentiousness eh, it’s just that pursuit of being different, that’s something I really let go. Before, I enjoyed being vague with lyrics, and even if it’s still vague now in some sense, I definitely left the intentionality of being vague and odd. Right now I’m trying my best to communicate talaga. 

    Photo from Phoenix

    Hannah: What was it like taking the EP to the live stage for the first time? 

    Kabuhat: Disclaimer lang, we’re still learning about everything din. But yeah, we practiced a lot, talaga. And… I think it’s harder for us din because andami nating gear. Kasi ayun nga, very maximalist yung production namin, and we try to reflect that as truthfully as possible, live. All the sound effects, yung DJ namin, Daboy, he’s actually doing it live. It took us a lot of practice, siguro even predating the ones specifically for the EP launch. It’s really just hours of figuring cables… and that is what I would say is the biggest struggle, managing all the electronics. That’s still taking us a long time to optimize. In preparation for the EP show, we tried to make sure we were in a good big space that has all the gear we need to help us optimize our rehearsals and syempre nauna namin yung how loud each person is, which is a big challenge because we’re also a big band. So deliberate runs through the songs lang, and then one by one natin ifeflesh out who should be louder, who should be softer, what should be happening here, and what shouldn’t.


    That’s the whole theme of everything, it’s just us, we’re living, and the importance of being with a trusted group of people is something I keep advocating talaga.


    Hannah: What is your approach to the inevitable conversation of becoming more marketable?

    Kabuhat: It’s really great to feel all of the support, especially being under the radar. And as growth-oriented individuals, it’s a necessary growth for us to hit bigger markets. So, ayun, what I feel about it is that I really wanna do it. And I think we have the capacity to especially now. I feel like we’re gonna speak to a lot more people, we’re gonna inevitably be able to communicate to a bigger crowd, mainly because of a change in our approach. So yeah, I’m excited for it, I’m hopeful for it, and we want it. [laughs]

    Hannah: In terms of plans and next steps for OZO, what should people be looking out for? 

    Kabuhat: We’re just gonna show more of ourselves and the music, really just introduce ourselves in a non-music way talaga. Everywhere else is also just ozo.online, but where we’re gonna reply immediately, most [likely on] Instagram, and we’re gonna be very active there. YouTube is gonna be very active for us as well! Because we’re gonna do a lot of stuff to showcase [ourselves] inside and outside of music.

    Hannah: Is there anything left you’d like to say to your listeners, new and old?

    Kabuhat: It’s so scary to show your true self on social media with so much stuff happening, but I think it’s our duty as artists not just to create, but to be honest in a world full of so much hate and lies. A lot of bad people think artistry is non-essential. I totally disagree, because I think we have a big responsibility in being honest for the world. 


  • TRACK REVIEW: fitterkarma – Pag-Ibig ay Kanibalismo II

    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.


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  • TRACK REVIEW: SHANNi – SSS (stuck song)

    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.


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  • TRACK REVIEW: Paprikka – Itataya

    TRACK REVIEW: Paprikka – Itataya

    iTunes Artwork for 'Itataya - Single (by Paprikka)'

    Written by JK Caray

    Starting out by covering beloved City pop tracks, Manila-based singer-songwriter Paprikka releases her debut track “Itataya” as the next step to the career she’s been building. In a burst of creative inspiration, Paprikka decides to gamble to make it big—and sure enough, she hits it on her first try.

    From the get-go, Paprikka’s determined to make the city pop genre her own. Belting in straight Filipino, she channels that ‘kikay’ attitude of the Manila sound—think the whimsical, carefree fun in Rachel Alejandro’s Mr. Kupido and you get the gist. Her performance on the track playfully tethers between a cheerful schoolgirl on a first date and yearning alongside a high school crush. It’s warm and fuzzy, charming, and corny yet you giggle every time the memory crosses your mind.

    Overall, “Itataya” shows a lot of promise for Paprikka’s career, signifying she has an ear for producing memorable hits. At times, however, it becomes too similar to the whistles of the Japanese City pop tune, down to its clichéd bass groove and bells. As common as this pitfall may be for anyone starting in the genre, there’s no doubt that she’ll cultivate her style along the way if she truly wants to reinvent the genre. In the meantime, “Itataya” is a gamble worth taking if it leads to being a one-of-a-kind pop star like Paprikka.


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  • TRACK REVIEW: KAIA – Tanga

    TRACK REVIEW: KAIA – Tanga

    iTunes Artwork for 'TANGA - Single (by KAIA)'

    Written By Lex Celera

    Leading up to its music video release, KAIA released a number of one-minute “concept films” on their social media accounts, featuring each member depicting potentially romantic moments gone awry. And while the promotional videos are just long enough to capture the feeling, KAIA’s “Tanga” unpacks this romantic type of love with nuance without losing the sheen of its pop structure.

    Within the highly engineered lens of pop is a fantastical but relatable world built through image and sound, cultivated during and in between music releases, “Tanga” checks all the boxes of what is serviceable and “radio-friendly.” The single is catchy, it has earworm-worthy chorus and showcases upbeat rhythms.

    For KAIA, “Tanga” is a boon to its music catalog, sitting pretty beside “Walang Biruan.” While the latter pushed KAIA sonically, “Tanga” remains decisive in fine-tuning their sound. Zack Tabudlo’s mastery of examining expressions and receptions of love and putting them into words without sounding preachy leads to a satisfying pop track. More than lyrics, the harmonies are satisfyingly layered and the adlibs are discreet but playful. It’s safe to assume that these additions to KAIA’s repertoire are a result of close collaboration with the more experienced Tabudlo.

    What’s most compelling in “Tanga” is the levity created between the twee lightheartedness of its melodies and the abject sadness presented by its lyrics. Why do we carry on with unrequited love or romance beyond red flags? In “Tanga,” anger at the act and love for the other can happen at the same time. These themes are explored but never really go anywhere. And that’s fine.

    What matters for KAIA is one-minute moments and three-minute odes to these moments, portraying a feeling that can be sustained upon multiple listens. KAIA’s charm shines bright in “Tanga,” and while admittedly safer than their past releases, forms a full-bodied discography thanks to its well-considered lyricism and composition.


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  • ALBUM REVIEW: SOS – It Was A Moment

    ALBUM REVIEW: SOS – It Was A Moment

    Written by Gabriel Bagahansol

    Starting off your band’s much-awaited sophomore album with lines like “I wrote some lyrics but it’s ten years later / I’m always worried that I’m past my prime” is a ballsy move when it’s been eight years since your first. Even more so when you’ve added these lines to a song you’ve been playing for more than a decade.

    A close up of the artwork for 2017’s Whatever That Was flickers on an old TV in a sunlit living room, as though that period in the band’s career were glory days they can only reminisce about. You could be forgiven for thinking SOS is staging a farewell, but this is the façade of nostalgia and reflection they have formed over their brand new album It Was A Moment, and that includes the opening track “Amore”, which finally saw completion after being a long-beloved live number by fans of the band.

    One listen and you can see why people have been clamoring for this for years: an energetic jangle bounces off from everyone in the band, amping things up with a rousing chorus that just makes you want to dance. All of that is very much intact here in the definitive version of “Amore,” except the uptight, aggressive iteration once heard at Route 196 and beyond is nowhere to be seen. Roberto Seña, along with fellow guitarist Andrew Panopio, has seemingly traded his fuzzbox for cleaner tones, has given the song a carefree environment to live in, and not only did the two of them make space for an acoustic guitar, apparently, there’s a synthesizer now?

    Outside of its nostalgia-tinged cover art, there’s hardly a trace of the band’s distant past in It Was A Moment. For the last eight years, many things have happened within the SOS camp. They did side projects outside the realm of rock n’ roll. They opened a recording studio above the sandy shores of Elyu. They even signed a brand new record deal, on James Reid’s Careless Music label, of all places.

    Somewhere in the middle of it all, after more than a decade of playing the same old song, they finally decided to fuck with the formula.

    2020’s The Other Side saw SOS dabble with disco beats, synth layers, and a softer approach to their music. While a cynic can dismiss the EP as a mere experiment at a time where their guitar-based alt-rock would’ve felt out of place, it was otherwise a necessary shakeup in their musical palette. And now, with the addition of keyboardist Ram Alonzo into the lineup, SOS has turned the cozy, colorful landscape of The Other Side from a brief excursion to the first phase of an artistic evolution.

    You can hear them take the next few steps into this path on songs like “Roses”, a respectable synthwave track about trying not to ruin a new love affair, and “I’m Kidding,” an anthemic exercise in irony with a sing-along chorus about bottling yourself up and never saying what you really feel. After these two songs is the pensive elegy to lost youth that is “It’s History”, which also affirms you, the listener, that in spite of your failures, all of that is in the past and that you’re more than just your shortcomings.

    While these three songs showcase Seña’s eloquent way with words and imagery, musically, something is amiss. Despite superb performances by the band, held together by Anjo Silvoza’s melodic bass lines and drummer King Puentespina’s steady but dynamic drumming, these are moments in which SOS seem like they aren’t willing to change up their sound much. They feel more like a compromise between slightly less jagged guitars and marginally pop keys, ultimately stalling the record after the shot of adrenaline that is “Amore”.

    Where SOS really shines in this record is when they fully commit to challenging their artistic identity. A hi-hat-heavy drum machine and a floaty synth line welcome listeners to the smooth R&B number “French Exit”. Seña sounds so seductive and self-assured as he sings about a casual love affair and how he’ll leave a lover before they even know it, a far cry from the jittery expressions of 2017’s “Favoritism”. Meanwhile, on “Money,” a rigid but groovy electro-funk beat coexists with frustrations toward someone else’s attitude towards money, especially when Seña talks about the frustrations of being a musician in today’s economy. While the song is sullied a bit by his overzealous vocals, it offers an otherwise noteworthy insight on being a struggling artist today. These two songs highlight SOS’ potential in holding their own across other genres, reaping the rewards of their expeditions outside the band’s walls. 

    The back half of It Was A Moment, then, is further proof of how far SOS can break the lyrical and sonic barriers that have been placed against them. For one, “Please Lang” and “Seryoso,” the band’s first Filipino songs, show Seña successfully making his ramblings shine in our own language, his acerbic tongue more potent than ever as the Taglish words help him convey the strongest emotions in the simplest of words. Meanwhile, the remaining three songs give us a vision of what a fully-electronic SOS could sound like. Two of these, “Yumi & The Apocalypse” and “Love Kept Us Warm,” show two sides of a doomed relationship: wistful hopelessness faces off against cautious optimism in an atmosphere of sparkling keys, unrelenting drum patterns, irresistible chord progressions, and even a fadeout that’s delightfully-’80s.

    The title track that closes the album sees the band complete their transformation from guitar heroes to electro-pop stars through a moody number on the end of a relationship that should’ve been taken seriously. Regret permeates the song’s sparse instrumentation that recreates the lightheaded feeling of being alone with one too many drinks, the bridge even introducing chopped-up vocal samples straight out of mid-2010s Tumblr. However, it feels as though there’s more to this than meets the eye, with all  the talk about phases and the references to SOS’ last two collections of songs. Is this the band looking back at the steps that got them to where they are now in their career?

    Whatever that other thing may be, that was the perfect closer for an album that marks a new chapter for what is now a venerable institution in the indie music scene. While a little rough around the edges, It Was A Moment presents the newfound potential SOS has unlocked in their creativity, opening the path for newer, more exciting ways to tell their next set of stories.

    Perhaps Seña isn’t quite past his prime yet after all.


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  • ALBUM REVIEW: Linger Escape – We All End In The Same Place

    ALBUM REVIEW: Linger Escape – We All End In The Same Place

    iTunes Artwork for 'We All End In The Same Place (by linger escape)'

    Written by Faye Allego

    At midnight, gasping for air, wondering where life will take on, emptiness appears in a dreamlike sequence. It’s peculiar, it’s suffocating, but it has always been familiar, like the hand of a lover who swore to hold on tight when diving deep into the trenches. Well, Linger Escape holds a requiem for that feeling in their debut album, We All End In The Same Place.

    In the world of nu-gaze, it’s easy to put on a respirator to filter out the fumes of repetitiveness found in shoegaze and other genres that fall under that umbrella; that repetitiveness being the same knobs of emotion being turned on the guitar pedal, the longing, the distortion, the buzzing, the fizzling, the static, the reverb, all of it. Perhaps, things don’t have to sound unique to be good, or the very essence of repetitiveness is not inherently bad, and that is where Linger Escape proves that those fumes aren’t toxic at all:

    In “Nothing”, the 2000s Nu-metal riff seeps in and blends with the honesty found in the lyrics. Instead of pairing the growling vocals with a sensual approach, the low-frequency phone call effect used in the primary vocals instead creates a dichotomy of past versus present, or, bringing emphasis to the lyrics “still digging for the bones, of what once was, of what has been”. Their most popular track, “Whisper”, thrusts a knee-jerk response to the listener prompted by the change in atmosphere. The song takes you to outer space where everything is uncertain, and all there is left is to ponder, once the riff glides into climax, the song ends as if the listener is taken through a metaphysical spiral, circling through the axis of experiences, memories, and so on.

    We All End In The Same Place is an 8-track album where the first half seems as though the band is hurriedly yet slowly establishing their true voice, presenting their sonic capabilities through varied quirks and sequences in the guitar distortion and the heavier percussion. As the latter half of the album proceeds after the 5th track, Linger Escape progresses and establishes that unflinchingly honest voice and sound. In “Gone”, the longest track on the record, the band unleashes the restraint of complex emotions that are evident in “Kin” and “Vermin”. Unfolding into a slow yet cathartic release with the soft yet stern meddles of the drums and the guitar as raw as the vocals, the listener is almost compelled to feel doom that the song will eventually come to an end. Will they be in the same place as they were before? Only time and the act of submersion into nostalgia can tell. As the album ends with “Bloom”, Linger Escape’s evolution is palpable. A sense of finality hits, and everything makes sense: the very sequence of before, during, and after. Shoutout to all the Life Is Strange fans out there. This is Max Caufield as an album.

    Overall, this album paves the way for the Bicol Shoegaze scene. It isn’t just a debut album; it’s a statement of intent. The four-piece doesn’t shy away from merging different sounds into one nostalgia-core mood board, and it doesn’t try to reinvent the genre either– they hold a mirror, albeit smudged and fogged, and let the listener look into its depths and take a deep, long breath.


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  • EP REVIEW: &ND – quarters

    EP REVIEW: &ND – quarters

    Written by Anika Maculangan

    Like specks of sunlight huddled in one dark corner, “quarters” read like that old photo booth picture, that long-lost receipt, or that tattered candy wrapper at the bottom of your pocket. The tracks, if anything, feel homesick for another universe. Infused with ethereal accents and soft imprints of shoegaze, certain tracks, especially “2nd room”, a lengthy 7-minute song, are perfect for spacing out in the middle of Maginhawa, as a flurry of pollution fills the lungs with something ambivalent. Despite its longevity, through drifting and spacey lyric composition, the song seems to defy all odds of time. This seems to be the case for &ND, even with other tracks like the remastered version of “Best of Luck” which boasts a duration of 5 minutes, which somehow, one way or another, manages to distort our concept of how long a moment lasts. It seems like making something fulfilling amongst a sea of boredom, like when you’re in your living room sofa, and you turn the TV on to satiate the room with sound, just to reckon with the emptiness.

    Quarters is meant for those who were aficionados to the likes of Ourselves the Elves, amidst the height of Armi Millare, when everything circumvented within the seams of moonstruck yet hard-boiled indie ballads. Blurry images layered over thick pastures of grain, the EP recovers what was lost prior to the pandemic — that hypermnesia for hopecore edits and patch tattoos, riddled with a plethora of late nights by the fluorescent glow of Angel’s Burger. The EP, finely drawn in its faded outfit, ceases to ever decline when it comes to the long-standing culture of diaries and sundried flowers plastered against cigarette butts. Therefore, ultimately, makes the statement that while we are moving forward, we are still, at the end of the day, figments of an old cast, begging to break loose.

    It goes without saying that a throwback like quarters, gives a nod to ‘those days’ of once being a student and stocking up on caffeine, all the while tracing back one’s roots amongst the tangled cords of an earphone. More fluid in their approach to genre, this indefinite notion provides the ability to delve into other sonic characters in the future. “quarters”, unlike other projects loosely borrowed from shoegaze, touches on the genre lightly, permitting more capacity for revisiting its tonalities within their own terms — these terms that immerse its toes into dream pop, bringing more uplifting, effervescent qualities into their sound.

    The EP is a stand-in for sensations of a lost memory, as it sings “If I were old, old to stay/I would love to lay and just wait”, exemplifying what it means to have a doubled intuition for recollection toward an echo, acting as a souvenir to what led us here. “quarters,” in its stillness, flows with reverb and resonance that can only match the waves, one sweep lesser of a tide. &ND feels like a reactionary project to the post-Megumi Acorda generation, amplifying that accent of unmistakable transcendence.


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  • ALBUM REVIEW: Bambu – If You See Someone Stealing Food… No, You Didn’t.

    ALBUM REVIEW: Bambu – If You See Someone Stealing Food… No, You Didn’t.

    Written by Anika Maculangan

    One hard-hitting line after the other, Bambu’s words as a rap artist travel oceans just to make it into our eardrums. Timely, relevant, and empowering, If You See Someone Stealing Food…No, You Didn’t is a new release from the LA-based rapper that feels like just what we need right now more than ever. In the album, DePistola tackles issues like workers’ rights, the genocide in Gaza, corruption, and police brutality. He approaches these themes in a way that is direct, precise, and straightforward. He doesn’t sugarcoat his delivery, yet prioritizes the impact that it has to offer. Despite this emphasis, the tracks in this album, notably Steal For A Meal and PI State of Mind II have an immense sense of flow and rhythm. The beats across the tracks are potent, well-measured, and powerful, which better amplify DePistola’s fervent utilizations of tempo and melody. Despite lyrics not being available yet online, upon writing this review, there wasn’t much of a hassle deciphering the words because Bambu articulates each and every one of his messages so legibly throughout this entire album — both in form and content.

    DePistola raps from the heart of the Filipino-American community, highlighting what it means to have pride in one’s identity, despite geographic barriers. DePistola strengthens his listeners, which at its core, includes the youth in order to encourage them to continue to fight for human rights and social justice later along in the future. Inspiring, thought-provoking, and insightful, the content of DePistola’s most recent album brings light onto societal truths, that urge to be addressed. This exactly is what DePistola provides — a voice for those who are silenced. Through the medium of an album, he makes these stances firmly conveyed, and ensures that it’s accessible to his audience.

    Accompanied by various tonalities, like for instance, air instruments, even the interludes mixed into the rest of the songs evoke a kind of tough heartiness. It’s clear that DePistola doesn’t leave any empty spaces in his compositions, most, if not all of them, whole with soul and spirit. You can easily tell that he is passionate about his craft, in connection to the things that he stands for.

    With support from rap movements like the FlipTop community alongside the San Francisco bay area scene, artists like Bambu keep the Filipino perspective alive within this realm. He’s a promise that even abroad, Filipinos can make a name for themselves — despite all the hurdles and challenges that come along their way. DePistola speaks for those who have worked their way up to success, making something out of the value that is found in their personal experiences.

    Listening to this album, it’s hard not to be so attentive to the lyrics — ultimately, it’s the greatest asset of the entire project. The musicality of the album is just what you would expect from Bambu; skilled and masterful. But what shines the most is the weight that the album carries. It’s a perfect reflection of today’s faced struggles. And no, it does not mourn them, but rather, looks for solutions. However, what Bambu first does is open a discussion about them. This album is if anything, a necessity in today’s day and age. Perhaps DePistola thought it to be essential.

    Many rappers, local and international, can learn from Bambu’s integration of social issues into his music. He demonstrates that rap music can be used as a tool for advocacy during times of collective hardship. Music like Bambu’s unites people to help and uplift one another. It makes us realize what can be done, and how. It asks questions like “Why is this happening?” and makes the sound we are hearing more than just mere music but rather, a call for action. For that, we thank DePistola.

    While some tracks felt slightly out-of-place, like Tommy’s Burgers and Crazy Eyes, the album as a complete project doesn’t miss any points. Although others might find some patterns in instrumentality repetitive, one could also presume them to be intentional. Yes, these stories do need to be vocalized over and over again, as they should be until it’s brought us to acknowledge the problems that plague the world with oppression. In this album, DePistol says behind his messaging, that he won’t stop until those being exploited are given justice and recognized for their right to equity. If You See Someone Stealing Food…No, You Didn’t takes what is already there, and introduces it to a broader audience through the universal language of music. Bar after bar, Bambu proves to us that a compact summarization of what is happening currently can be put into words within the measure of 1-3 minute songs. In no way does it reduce these dialogues, but turns up the volume, for them to be reinforced on a more heightened, revolutionary scale.


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