Written by Sab Aguirre Releasing “Thunder” and “Tulog na” last year, Muriel Gonzales, also known as Muri, continued to produce nostalgia-driven melodies outside the shadows of The Ransom Collective, of which she is a member as violinist. “Lately” is a heartfelt journey towards self-consciousness, overarching the glee from playful guitar notes and the pulsating rhythm elevates it into a carefree, easy-going song. Unlike “Thunder” which seemed to be a recurring dream of a disheveled, but not completely forgotten life, “Lately” is a reflection of vulnerability in relationships while recognizing the lapses of one’s action. Muri didn’t only showcase her years of experience as a musician but also presented her personal notes to the listener. With the rise of solo projects during quarantine and isolation, more artists exuded their intimate side as they decide on everything they want to put out to the world. “Lately” is an output of processed emotions running through multiple verses and wandering. The layering of multiple instruments throughout the song was well-intended, as her bright-toned voice encapsulates the whole track. It will be difficult to disassociate Muri from her band’s identity, since some listeners might underscore that her thematic tracks lean-to Ransom Collective’s cult-favorite songs. However, from the start, Muri’s releases only proved that it’s her individuality and personal recollection that makes her music truly her own. After various life transitions and appealing releases, any listener of Muri would desire to hear a full-length album that can either set forth to her cohesive sound or present her versatility towards her craft. From its opening and recurring rhythm, through neatly orchestrated violins and warm chord progression, “Lately” is a much-needed whimsical companion to a sun-filled long drive. Support the art & the artist:
Author: TFL
ALBUM REVIEW: BURZAGOM – Kontrabida
Written by Red Bartolome To attempt to confine an art project into conventional musical genres is a futile, fruitless effort. I could say that BURZAGOM’s album effortlessly combines dissonant genres such as punk, hip hop, noise, funk, TV/Film scores, and more into something surprisingly cohesive. I could say that the record’s pacing, at times slow and deliberate, at times frenetic and full-bore, mixed with its spoken word vocals, evokes memories of my adolescence listening to the Radioactive Sago Project from my Nokia 5130 while commuting to school. I could say that BURZAGOM’s sound is largely emblematic of a post-internet, post-pandemic venture. I could say that it cleverly borrows and steals from more established songs to create something entirely new. I could say that it is a piece of work that is inimitably anchored around its time of release. I could just say all of this and be done with it– but that would be a disservice to both you, the reader and possible enjoyer of the album, as well as to BURZAGOM’s vision. Grandi Oso, or Simbuyo D. Maunawaan: The grand impulse that cannot be understood. A force in the local music scene as enigmatic as their project the STIGMATICS, they cut through conventions like a Good Knife. Known for a variety of different projects, I honestly have no idea whether to refer to the artist as Grandi Oso or Simbuyo D. Maunawaan. For the sake of brevity and maybe my sanity, let me refer to Simbuyo D. Maunawaan, the vocalist Eric Barabas-Hestas, and BURZAGOM in its entirety simply as “the artist”. The artist crafts an experience that demands deliberate attention. A few weeks prior to even hearing about KONTRABIDA, I received a friend request on facebook from an account named Bur Za Gom. I did not know what to expect. I found myself experiencing chaos, anarchy, and disarray. A flurry of incoherent Facebook posts intermittently flooded my feed. Bur Za Gom shared cryptic images reminiscent of the weird side of the Facebook marketplace and boomer humor. They were somehow surprisingly salient but also stuttered and bewildering at the same time. That account would be banned a short while later. As I listened to the record, I found myself sinking into the same feelings of disorder and general confusion; only this time I had a vague sense of what was actually going on. I felt as if I could get a grasp of what the artist was trying to impart. The so-called “spoken word diatribes” and “mutant Frankenstein sound” reminded me of the metro, of the Philippines, of living here, and everything that that would entail. A sonic assault, not entirely unwelcome, painted feelings of anxiety amidst a bustling crowd. Existential dread flowed and mixed, ironically, into brighter and more hopeful sentiments in tracks like “Tamang Timpla”. The record reminded me of so many things. The record reminded me of how it felt to line up for the MRT. The record reminded me of the times I spent crammed inside a jeep that purportedly fit nine people on each side. The record reminded me of the blinding sunlight that hit my eyes while I walked in the middle of the day. The record reminded me of the wastes and of the wasted in Manila. The record reminded me of revolution. Just as I felt I was about to achieve a revelation, however, the artist made fun of me. “Magduda Ka,” the album’s penultimate track, wraps the entire project once again in a sense of confusion. With an almost schizophrenic fervor, it forces you to question whether or not what you felt was actually the intention. Was that what they wanted to say? Was it just a projection of your own affectations? You doubt your interpretations, and question not only yourself, but every little choice on the record. Why reference the story of GomBurZa? Why release it this close to the election? Why was it only made available on YouTube? I do not like to take things at surface value, but it is inevitable that I inject more and more of myself the more I try to process what I have experienced. The project, as Diane Arbus would describe photographs, is like a secret about a secret. The more it tells you, the less you know. At the time of this writing, I am satisfied not knowing everything. I no longer wish to seek meaning where there may be none; hipan mo na ang kandila, gusto ko nang magpahinga. Support the art & the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: Lyn Lapid – I Guess That Was Goodbye
Written by Elijah P. When it comes to dramatic pieces of a piano ballad, there’s a mix of melodrama, regret, and even remorse from the songwriter. There are times of reminiscing and nostalgia found in the subtle parts of its verses and a cathartic release by the chorus. And more often than not, the songwriter asks for closure once the final piano line fades in the distance. For Baltimore-based singer Lyn Lapid, her constant aping on Lorde’s Melodrama proves that the singer-songwriter genre is at a stagnant state. “I Guess That Was Goodbye” is a follow-up to her massive slow jam soul of a single “In My Mind” – one of her many viral tracks that helped skyrocketed her career on platforms like Tiktok – and it’s becoming frustratingly obvious that her unceasing desire of genre-hopping has made her artistry all the more across-the-board. Sometimes going back and forth from her debut to the latest single, it should at least occur to the listener that Lyn acts like an algorithm changing to better suit everyone’s tastes every now and then, with nothing of substance and emotional value to it whatsoever. “I Guess That Was Goodbye” combines dry diaristic writing, anticlimactic structures, unnecessary symphonic leads, and a singer whose skills scream mid-tier all the way back at the recording studio. Link:
EP REVIEW: Ozzga | Polar Lows SPLIT
Written by Janlor Encarnacion As we enter into the third year of this never-ending pandemic, bands have kept their hands busy. Enter two up-and-coming local shoegaze bands with their own version of relentless noise: Ozzga and Polar Lows have broken the deafening silence and released a surprise split EP. Spanning only four songs, it whets the listeners appetite for the potential of what the bands can unleash. The EP starts out with the banger track “Feel You” by Ozzga. Upbeat and hard-hitting, Ozzga dictate the pace with a high tempo track that is not usually heard of in the genre. It also debuts their newest member – Poti – on vocals. Her sweet melodies add a delicate contrast to the distortion of the band. ”Should” is next and is a personal favorite of mine ever since they played it at an Alternatrip show and it finally has a proper recording to do it justice. The back end of the track also features a droning transition – as the band mentioned – to introduce their co-stars in the EP. Polar Lows’ “Paper Street” is a surprise, mainly because of the male vocals and song structure but also shows the versatility of the band members. According to Pablo, the song is his take on a dissociative experience similar to the narrator’s experience in the movie Fight Club. The EP ends with “Ellipsis”, another stellar track from the band. It features the signature vocals of Megumie and the bombastic percussion of Josh, coupled with Pablo’s expertise with fuzz and reverb. Though really short in scale, the EP shows potential from the scarce tracks – leaving fans excited or more robust releases from both bands in the future. This EP is a definite must-listen from two bands that pave the way for shoegaze in the modern era. SUPPORT THE ART & THE ARTIST: https://ozzgaph.bandcamp.com/album/ozzga-polar-lows-split
EP REVIEW: reon – Sentiments
Written by Elijah P. reon is a duo consisting of songwriters Reanne and Noah hailing from Leyte, Eastern Visayas. They are the type of duo who are waiting to shine out from the dark. Though they’re not there yet, at least for now. But they’ve at least shown materially that they’re ready to slide out of that darkness, shimmering across the chamber folk spectrum at lightspeed. In “Sentiments”, their 6-track EP, peaks variously in emotional levels of relief, catharsis, and infatuation. The tracks speak softly, in volumes so tender that it speaks more character than other har-har acts that are coming out today. Their choices for production are muted and intimate, mostly a balance of both: pianos streaming across the male and female harmonies, drum machines lingering as a unique backbone to their palette. There’s a showcase of experimentalism and polarity between the tracks, presenting a Side A and Side B of their skills as songwriters and producers. In “Is It Too Much Ask”, reon challenge themselves in narrative-writing via a lengthy 5-minute-and-a-half length. As it sways in midtempo, the duo slowly but surely enlivens the atmosphere adjacent to their singing. Shortly after the track, they never compromised their delightful sound. “Back To The Times” – arguably the best track in the entire project – aspires to become a tranquil version of the templated semi-abrasive contemporary dream pop sound. The beat compliments the hidden synths while the reverb acts as a blanket for the entirety of the track. Other than that, the string section in “Sentiments” and the acoustic guitar in “A Place I Could Call Home” are examples of avoiding a sterile sound. It feels and looks cinematic; better than watching mural-sized paint dry. Although, the project could’ve been more dynamic: instrumentations that evoke a certain feeling or conflict feels missing or better yet underdeveloped. Both reon have large amounts of potential to be thrown on the wall, they haven’t checked to see what sticks because of the concealed production style that easily hides their weaknesses as a duo. Their imagination for longing is restrained through the lyric-writing, which is underwhelming in some parts, or rather second-rate in repeated listens. Its warm sonics at some point could feel one-note throughout “Sentiments”, but at the very least both Noah and Reanne’s performances glisten in the vocal booth. Overall, reon is a duo that’s packed with potential. They got their cards right and as long as they play it right in the long run, they’ll yield great results. Support the art & the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: Al James – PSG
Written by Elijah P. The mythology of Al James as an annual hitmaker begins to loom over many hiphop heads ever since the start of the pandemic. Memes, jpegs, and fan comments explain the deprivation of new releases from one of their favorite rappers. As the Baryo Berde mainstay’s absence began to stretch for the entire duration of lockdown, the demand for something new, or even some presence to an extent, began to swarm all over social media. Like most artists of his size, Al James went to take a step back, rerouting back to family priorities. It was, no pun intended, a time for him to rest. That’s until he went on social media to move the symbolic ‘glass’, posting studio time with Nexxfriday for his long-awaited debut album and a rumored collaboration with arguably the biggest r&b artist of the moment, Arthur Nery. And then shortly after the tease, the six-foot tall, snapback-wearing figure unveiled a new glass he raised. This emblematic glass for him to raise was for his comeback single aptly titled “PSG” — a single where he’s got a stockfull of those ‘goods’ in the Delorean trunk as he runs 88 miles per hour in the freeway. It’s a celebration deemed as a ‘comeback of the century’ from hip-hop social media as a whole, media partners continuously rejoicing as Al James plans to roll out for more singles in the coming months or maybe in the coming years. But what else does he have besides the goodies? Well, nothing new really — and it comes off as no surprise if we’re expecting any detour after an almost 2-year absence. “PSG”, like many of his singles throughout his 5-year career as an entertainer, follows-up to none of his past potential. From “Pahinga” to “Ngayong Gabi”, Al James barely left 2016 in his latest offering. Trap may have evolved for the better, but to Al James’ detriment, barely anything came out as something career-defining or let alone a paradigm shift in 2022. It’s only appropriate that he was packaged as a time-traveling party goer from the past only to change the present, but this present of his barely has any progress musically for the future; The signature yet unvaried vocal register submerged in the shiny synths, the deep sub-bass rattling off the mild wag-’kang-nega verses, and the unimpressive progression from the verses to even the hooks, are all middle-of-the-road. “PSG” narrowly carves Al James for better and for worse. It’s a single that’s reserved as a time-capsule, a disappointing half-hearted effort that doesn’t exceed time nor his Delorean’s flux. Support the art & the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: Nonentities – Autonimbus
Written by Nikolai Dineros Man’s desire for emancipation entangles him in a constant battle with that which oppresses him – a battle that was never lost but has withered him to the point of numbness. Autonimbus zooms down on the other struggle that ensues, one that exists from within the mind of our already embattled hero to keep his humanity in check. Local punk outfit NONENTITIES’ sophomore album Autonimbus’ is an amazing, straightforward punk record with occasional blends of power pop that has in each song all the blazingly infectious riffs, melodies, and lyrics we’ve all come to love about the genre. More than that, it perfectly encapsulates the pathos of the working class forced to endure capitalism’s destructive consequences as they continue to mobilize and seek respite wherever they can. NONENTITIES’ relationship with hope in Autonimbus ebbs and flows at every turn, but the passion brought into the nine hard-hitting songs never wanes. In the first two tracks – ‘Witnessing the Shedding’ and ‘Joy Unknowable’, respectively – the narrator is seen in a state of distress as they witness the different faces of injustice chipping away their hope for humanity and for themselves. But as the album progresses, the more he discovers about himself in others in the spirit of resistance. As he continues to resist and find his own solace, no longer has he placed his hopes on greater gods other than himself and his neighbors, as highlighted in the eighth track ‘Subservience’. Autonimbus is a battle cry, and it continues to echo despite the seemingly unwinnable odds. It accepts one’s mortality and the feebleness of the human spirit when trapped in a system that takes away all that which makes life fruitful. But this sentiment is not driven by the dread of reality, but of love. Support the art & the artist: https://nonentities.bandcamp.com/album/autonimbus
ALBUM REVIEW: Travelator – THE SINS OF YOUR CHILDREN
Written by Louis Pelingen In terms of creating an instrumental album centered towards a mood or a concept, the artist has to start thinking outside the box when creating tunes and textures especially if the said concept is a complex one, or at the very least, requires more thought into making it translate to the music effectively. Introducing: Travelator. Travelator is a solo project by Conrad Javier that essentially creates a musical backdrop to the chaotic swirls that have been a push-pull situation in the cities in the Philippines. His previous releases such as ‘Reset’ and ‘Travelator 2’ showcased Conrad’s skillset as a bassist, guitarist, and beatmaker with loopy grooves and cool textures making for a relaxed, but oddly tense listen. This was also the year where he released his debut album, ‘The Sins Of Your Children’. At first, given the album art, the album’s title, and the names in the tracklist, it may seem that Travelator is going somewhere with his concept. Possibly adding more interesting samples and textures to the mix to make the hypnotic, scorching mood of his past EPs feel more intensified and allow the melodies to slip into your mind with a bit of variety and clarity. After a dozen listens on this album, I was in an odd state with this project. I was a bit disappointed with the lack of samples that would really help emphasize the socio-political concept of this album even clearer, but on the other hand, I get why Travelator didn’t include more of them as the downtempo leaning tracks create more of a sifting, meditative backdrop against situations and figures that are creating much of the chaos in the Philippines. This record also reminds me slightly of Boards of Canada, and especially a vaporwave-tinged downtempo album from last year, NYSE’s Millennialism. On the surface, this album plays in a cohesive structure as the prominent presence of pulsating percussion, squelching and simmering synthesizers, somber and distorted guitars, and quaking bass all throughout the album, playing in tempos and textures that gallop on one side and submerge on the other. When the tracks hit hard, they really do stand out. I love the stomping and whirling atmosphere that comes on ‘Loveable Lies’, same goes for tracks like ‘A Bit of Flavor’ with the chiming synths and airy synth bass that is accompanied with distorted guitar at the end, and ‘The Sins of Your Children’ brings a steady beat and multiple synthesizers that provides layered melodies on top of that steady drum beat. I did like some of the meditative tracks on the record, like ‘Warlords’ that starts the record off with a calming charm coming off from the looping drums, guitar, and even trumpets, and the closer ‘The Gods That Hate You’ which brings in soothing guitar and varied synth textures on top of the steady percussion. However, when you take a closer look, the album starts to show its flaws as the inconsistent mixing, odd synth tones, and lack of rhythmic and melodic variance pokes through. I wasn’t crazy about the mixing on ‘Wasabi’ which kills off those punchy drum loops, kills an otherwise wonderful trudging atmosphere on ‘Walking on Mud’, and kills off what should be an explosive breakdown on ‘Victorious’. Some of the synth tones used on some of these songs like ‘State Beyond Sleep’, ‘Grace, Kindness, and Death’, and ‘An Abundance of Caution’ could’ve been modified at spots as they don’t exactly blend well and they do stick out like a sore thumb. And most importantly, while I do appreciate the consistent mid to low tempos peppered on this record to ensure the meditative feel of these songs, there could’ve been instances where the tempos ramp up for a few seconds to provide these songs some urgency, provide more melodic presence from the guitar when it was used not as frequent and sometimes mixed too low, and slip in more sampling cuts that would allow for variance from song to song. At the end of the day, I do understand and respect what Travelator is approaching in this record. It’s a contemplative respite from the whirling and somber aspects of the city life in the Philippines, especially when the album cover and track titles lean towards the socio-political aspects this time around. The vibe coming from these songs may be there, but it’s held back by mixing, synth tones, and lack of rhythmic variance that don’t make the tracks standout even more. It may hit the concept and feel that Travelator aims for, but it doesn’t snap consistently. Support the art & the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: Woochito – Validation
Written by Elijah P. Batangas-based solo artist Woochito’s vision in ‘Validation’ is nothing short of cliche. A beaten-up individual walks across several blocks way past midnight; bathroom breakdowns; and a couple shots that evoke a feeling of a daydream – it ticks all the boxes of an action-movie built for a bedroom pop audience. But there’s an underlying merit that needs to be acknowledged to Woochito – formerly known as ‘manila boy’ – and his knack for hypnotizing his audience in his bootleg internet Wonderland of sorts. There are examples of how his influence pierced the consciousness of his small internet following; his contemporaries Paul Parce and unikko ijo aren’t strangers from this trance-like, VHS-filtered state existing in their music. But as far as sonic-attraction is concerned, he is by far one of the most hypnotically captivating artists in his circle. The vocal mixing in “Validation” is unflattering, coming out as a sloppy performance, but it invites you into his world somehow. It’s a nervous, messy, and complicated situation to be in lyrically, as he describes his love as something to be ‘drooling’ for – a word that doesn’t need to be necessary as the music does most of its job in luring you into its beauty. The less attractive aspects of the song however doesn’t overshadow the overwhelming qualities of the track onwards. The instrumental flirtations of layered synth pads and chorus-pedal-guitar that happen between the verses and outro are love letters to one of his influences, but he isn’t far off as he wears these influences under his bruised-up blazer. However, Woochito packs a lot of uncontained infatuation in “Validation”, and as much as the amateurish may put off the listener at first, an earworm will be reserved in the following consecutive listens. Support the art & the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: Arthur Nery – Isa Lang
Written by Elijah P. As music listenership and awareness continues to grow, a ‘trifecta’ or ‘holy trinity’ arises from the ashes of ‘OPM’ past. Rock music with feelings are the new ‘nostalgia’ acts, while industry torchbearer soloists Zack Tabudlo and Adie claim to become the flavors for a new generation of local music listeners. The third man in the three flavors is none other than Cagayan De Oro’s very own Arthur Nery. Although his style differs from the aforementioned figures, each and one of them have their own characteristics of being substanceless ‘Pick Me Guys’ and seeking-for-validation-in-the-end-of-the-world types, Arthur Nery — now currently a top-drawer for Viva Records — churns out plain vanilla neo-R&B tracks shortly after the late celebration of his first album ‘Letters Never Sent’. He revels in being the loyal one, the only one in the partnership, as he prances outside of your subdivision home. “Isa Lang” — his latest single closing out the new year, opening 2022 with a new era of contemporaries — feels hollow, conserving vocal variety rather than exceeding one’s potential. And while the prince of Neo-R&B pleads you a wilted rose, he only offers less with the style he’s honing today. Not even the intimate bass kicks, organ synths, string section, and skeletal, groove-less backing-band sound can back up his one-noted commercial friendly vocal stylings. If anything that makes his music impactful, it’s the monotonous delivery that bores every section of the song with forced usages of ‘deep’ phrases and hushed, boy-bestfriend sentiments, barely tugging the heartstrings of his listeners. As Arthur continues to solidify himself as the biggest mainstream act of the moment, both his newer singles, “Isa Lang” and “Pagsamo” respectively, released in the past few months are no more than mere background music. Arthur is headed towards more fruitful straits, albeit while playing it safe: a move that would set the precedent for his younger contemporaries witnessing his rise. Support the art & the artist: