THE BEST FILIPINO SONGS OF 2025

As the year 2025 is soon closing its doors, there’s excitement in looking back on the songs that ripple across the scenes. For instance , Zaniel’s C2 NA RED! And Nateman & Lucky’s IMMA FLIRT has been in big rotation in the hip-hop scene, showcasing what it means to truly craft captivating earworms in the pop context. It’s a characteristic that also applies to Fitterkarma’s Pag-Ibig ay Kanibalismo II, their biggest breakthrough song that smashed through the mainstream rock scenes. Fitting themselves alongside known acts such as Zack Tabudlo and Janine Berdin, who happen to come from the big leagues, take on unexpected curveball releases. Speaking of breakthroughs, the rising presence of girl groups KAIA and VVINK displays an exciting turn in the realms of P-pop, adding distinct palettes that are worth looking towards in the future. Of course, it’s not like the alternative and underground — local and otherwise — continues to flourish in its own way. Metro Manila is very much full of them, circulating noise from hip-hop collectives, pop punk bands, and disco acts. In Davao City, you hear Tuesday Trinkets and adult sunday school put their energy and warmth into the flourishing pop rock and screamo scenes they’re building towards. Internationally, you hear ZayALLCAPS and Underscores continue score welcome acclaim within international music publications.  This list encapsulates the songs that we heard from the entirety of 2025. A celebration of what caught our attention, and hopefully, you get a chance to hear these songs as well. — Louis Pelingen 30. Janine Berdin – antoxic Stepping away from the balladeer biritera image that she initially cultivated with the rest of her peers, Janine Berdin decides to take inspiration from the experts near the tail end of the 20th century for “ANTOXIC.” It’s a well-studied replica of 2000s alternative rock that dares to step foot behind the line of nu-metal. With roaring vocals like Evanescence’s Amy Lee, a hazy, hypnotized wall of sound that borders on shoegaze territory, it’s evident that Berdin and her team did their homework. The firm lyrics that demand ownership are so self-assured in her toxicness, you can’t help but wonder if it’s camp or sheer commitment to the bit. Berdin’s rebrand is an enticing introduction to a whole other side of her personality and a step in a new direction. — Noelle Alarcon 29. Shanni – Sikretong Tayo Lang May Alam A hymn for the repression of queer love that must stay secret now feels like a 2000s soft-rock ballad in Shanni’s “Sikretong Tayo Lang May Alam.” Her voice acts as a cushion, almost like a firm embrace for queer couples to make the secrecy feel bearable amidst the society’s constant brouhaha, on gender, sex, and rights to love. And while the guitar strums are gentle, they still try to overwhelm the hurt that queer lovers know all too well. The chorus asks plainly, “Ilan pa ba ang kinakailangang patunayan?” — A line that twists the knife even more for those who’ve learned to overperform and dilute themselves, then go on days longing for the moment to finally and unapologetically take up space and be seen. — Jax Figarola 28. Parti. – Breach A messenger passes through the neurons wired inside the sponge, dictating your life from inside your head. Not a second passes and its time is up, and another takes its place, each one pulling the strings that bring purpose to your flesh and bone, that help you recognize your heart and what keeps it going. It goes on and on and on, and so it goes on and on in the person you keep perfect time with. But the further away you are, the slower the messengers seem, so you move closer and closer, and so do they, making sense of the motions of two minds. Two souls. Two scholars hungry for knowledge of the lights flashing through the skulls. A head-on collision. Candles melting into one another. A necessary breach. — Gabriel Bagahansol 27. VVINK and DJ Love – Baduy  There came a time when budots, as a music genre, sparked discussions on its place in the music charts. Two years ago, months after DJ Love took the stage of Manila Community Radio’s Boiler Room set, there was a noticeable shift in seeing budots as something outside of its original context. “Baduy” comes both as a sign and as a result of this growth – a pop record enveloped in budots’ organic stylistic leanings. Genre pioneer DJ Love comes in as a collaborator, prominently featured in the music video. Its trademark “tiwtiw” sound and accompanying dance, both distinct, become enmeshed into the pop record without any sense of its novelty wearing off.  VVINK, a five-piece pop group under FlipMusic, shouts, “Ipagkalat na ang tunog na ito/ Na talagang sa atin lang.” “Baduy” becomes a clarion call turned into song. If only the record label didn’t try to play it safe and ask, “What if we add Pio Balbuena into the mix?” At least that’s what I could have guessed.  — Lex Celera 26. Jopper Ril – Won’t Wait With “Won’t Wait,” Jopper Ril resurrects the glittering glam pop-rock energy of 80s OPM, echoing the style of a young Gary Valenciano. It’s dated in all the right ways: glittery synth, romantic jazz grandiosities, and arrangements built for slow, swirling dances under mirrorball light. Jopper Ril’s silky vocals move like vintage velvet, the same velvet seen on red curtains at a theatre. The bridge delivers a sensual crescendo that crystallizes the songwriter’s take on real love. The maturity of realising you weren’t good for someone, paired with the ache of not exploring what could’ve been. In this age of passive yearning, “Won’t Wait” breaks limerence by leaning forward, unafraid to be confrontational. Its grooves slow dance flawlessly, while the lyrics linger like the aftertaste of morning coffee, insisting you sit with the flavor. — Faye Allego 25. Jiji – Paborito Jiji sings enthusiastically about having a “paborito” among a roster

SABAW SESSIONS: Hazylazy

Approaching Antagonisms The singular author of his work, Jason Fernandez, is a textbook solo artist. His brainchild, Hazylazy, remains his closest collaborator, revisiting the Antagonisms demos he released from his bedroom years ago. Written by Hannah Manuel Born in the post-internet age, Hazylazy is the project of Tagalog native Jason Fernandez. An indie rock internet secret of the early 2020s, Jason made waves in the (then online) scene as the solo mind behind The Resentment Segment. Tracks like Ultrawanker and Juxtapose were the lockdown anthems that eventually funneled crowds new and old back into dive bars and in-person gig venues. With Antagonisms, Hazylazy reemerges transformed, putting together years of musical exploration into a cohesive and deeply personal thesis. The genealogy of Hazylazy precedes the act itself. Spending his formative years in Laguna, Jason found his first audience performing with his five schoolmates at fairs in the local Catholic school circuit as Serotonin. In step with the rise of indie bands all over the country, led by the likes of Autotelic and Ben&Ben, the six-piece Biñan-grown band had the classic OPM toolkit at their disposal while somehow still maintaining impressive individuality for an adolescent outfit. Part of this ought to be due to Jason, who composed the original pieces they performed in between covers. Initially writing songs in the drum seat of the band, Jason first made his way to the mic when the band’s vocalist quit. This late 2010s indie rock sensibility transforms into something more atmospheric toward the latter part of Serotonin’s lifespan. When the band quietly dissipated into college and work, the singer-songwriter took to SoundCloud for a new solo project, where a trajectory of his work remains in view today.  From chillwave to jangle pop to neo-psychedelia, Hazylazy is heavily inspired by the wild array of musical inspirations Jason holds dear. A multisensory and multidisciplinary trip, Antagonisms is the matured mastery of Jason’s exploration project years in the making. The singular composer and producer of the album, Jason’s closest collaborator is himself. Many of the tracks are years older than they let on, beginning as demos back when Hazylazy was still in its seedling stages. With an ethos of total authorship and a creative control of the acoustic environment he molds, the indie rock auteur revisits old compositions and converses, eventually completing a years-spanning project long awaited since his last release four years ago. He orchestrates his listening experience down to a T. From the warm decay of lo-fi synthesizers, to drumlines—a channel he is well acquainted with—like heartbeats in their earnestness, the time it has taken to get him here is a reward made even riper for those who were there with him from the start. Back in time, it was impossible to imagine Hazylazy as real. The adulterated frequencies of the real world were seemingly not the place for Jason’s ethereality. The boundlessness of the net—its lack of physical constraints, its endless archives, its potential for anonymous reinvention—serves Jason well, so well that it is easy to conflate it with the separate and equally boundless entity that is his mind. As time and a return to on-site gigs permitted, the underground bore witness to a new master. From an etiology of melancholy, Antagonisms arrives noisily and unapologetically, not giving a fuck about what the world thinks, blazing a trail through it anyway. A storied creation and a boundless frontier, Antagonisms is something to look forward to on the live stage. **This interview has been edited for clarity and brevity.  HM: There are songs in Antagonisms and related to antagonisms written with years in between them and the final album. Specifically, the tracks “Another Self-Loathing Demo” and “ANTAGONISMS” which were released four and three years ago, respectively. Hazylazy: Yes, which is funny ‘cause “ANTAGONISMS” did not make it to the album. But “antagonisms”, it latched on as a name. Nagkaroon pa nga ko ng iba’t ibang album names in mind, and I was trying my best to not use antagonisms because I was telling myself na “Ah may nakarelease na track ng antagonisms, yeah, whatever”. But I figured if that’s the name that works, so be it. I just went for “Antagonisms” even though there already is a song called “Antagonisms” and wala siya sa mismong album. HM: Is there any relation between the two “Antagonisms”? Hazylazy: It felt like [the song] started the new sound for me? That’s when I separated from the previous sound, which is the sound that most people have heard from the Resentment Segment, and “ANTAGONISMS” was a big jump from what I usually make. It was a good starting point too, in a way that song started everything. And then lyrically, the album of Antagonisms fits the title. Parang kumbaga the “ANTAGONISMS” as a single, the one on SoundCloud, the sonic aspect and the lyric aspect don’t really fit in the album I’ve made, so I didn’t think to put it in. But looking back, the title really worked with how the lyrics were written: unapologetically saying anything, unapologetically following the sound that you want, not caring about what other people say to me. It’s like being antagonistic in a way, putting yourself first, being selfish quote unquote.  HM: The singly credited composer, writer, and producer of your project. These are songs you’ve written with years in between them. Hazylazy: Yes, years apart but it’s not as if I’ve been working on those songs for the whole time interval. I just let it sit there and then when I decided I was gonna start recording the album that’s really the only time I revisit the song and there were changes here and there but not so much. I would say just production wise, na may onting adds lang and onting subtraction of things HM: In a way you’re revisiting a past iteration of yourself as well, in the year you first created those demos. As the sole auteur to your music, what is it like collaborating with a past

The Recipe For Madness: Fitterkarma’s Destined Love for Blood and Hugot

The latest hardworking buzz band from Benilde are bringing you inside info on how to write horror-love songs, never hearing about Ethel Cain, adoring all the memes, and plans for the new, bloody exciting debut album Fitterkarma are known to engineer nightmares. The Manila-based band, led by vocalist and conceptualizer Joao De Leon, has carved out a niche where horror, heartbreak, and OPM sensibilities coexist with J-rock’s frenetic energy. Their breakout track, “Ang Pag-ibig ay Kanibalismo Part II,” has become inescapable, spawning TikTok memes, school cafeteria covers, and even a cosign from BINI Maloi via Instagram. But beneath the viral chaos lies a band dead serious about their craft. Every element of Fitterkarma’s work oozes with intention. Orchestrated by pianist and co-vocalist Addy Pantig, drummer Sanders Bayas, guitarist Calvin Borja and bassist Sophia Miranda, the screamo-infused tracks and heavy metal riffing lurch between melodic hugot and visceral noise, while their visuals—blood-saturated cover art, eerie imagery—feel ripped from a cult horror flick. This isn’t your typical theater-kid spookiness with Final Destination death scene compilations projected over the walls of a school screening; it’s the sound of a generation that grew up on 3 a.m. city dread and internet surrealism. Even their creative process mirrors their aesthetic. Drummer Sanders (or “Ders” to the scene) balances homework while the interview was happening, while Joao draws inspiration from Texas’ bleak landscapes during his U.S. stay, literally waking up minutes before the interview started. Multi-instrumentalist Soph juggles session work and concert tech gigs, applying that hands-on expertise to Fitterkarma’s precise chaos. What separates them from typical college bands is their commitment to the bit. Every snare hit, every vocal shriek, every drop of fake blood in their visuals serves the larger nightmare. In a scene often obsessed with being relatable, Fitterkarma dares to be unsettling—and Manila’s youth are eating it up. [This interview has been edited for clarity and brevity] Elijah: Gusto ko matanong each and every one of you, ano yung paborito niyong horror movie?  Joao: Oh yeah. Lately, ano ba? Dami. Sobrang dami. Siguro top of my head nga yun yung Skin of Mariquen. Yung analog horror na sobrang slow-paced. I like slow-paced horror kumpara sa mga jumpscare, puro jumpscare na nanggugulat lang. Bukod sa pag-slow horror, especially sa mga Japanese horror na slow horror, yung music din parang instead of giving the tension na palapit na yung jumpscare, it gives you an eerie feeling. Lately, not just horror movies but horror games as well. I’m loving yung soundtrack ng, like forever is in my head lagi yung soundtrack ng Siren Blood curse na video game. Elijah: Oh wow. Sobrang underrated yan para sa akin kasi may third-person view ka, you could switch cameras from different characters. That’s something that Resident Evil doesn’t do. Joao: Silent Hill also.  Elijah: Yeah, Silent Hill. Too bad di tumuloy yung PT. Does anyone else in the band have their favorite horror movie in mind?  Calvin: Ako actually, di ako super hilig sa horror movies. I mean, I’m not like an avid horror watcher. I guess yung consumption ko ng horror is like from movies or from series or books. It’s all from YouTube lang. Yung mga, it’s always the icebergs and stuff like that. So wala akong specific pero I guess na-expose din ako somewhat to those ideas. Tsaka video games din. But I’ve never actually played one the whole way which is sayang nga. I think I should do that.  Addy: Sorry. Okay, I’m not very into that, I mean, I would like to watch a lot more horror and play a lot more horror games as well. But like, it gets scary. I would like to play it nung may kasama. It’s so much fun that way na you can just laugh it off. But if I were to answer yung favorite horror movie, since I don’t, I haven’t really seen a lot, I would say it’s Alien because I am also very into science fiction stuff and like 70s, 80s films. So yeah, that would be my answer.  Soph: Sa totoo lang takot na takot ako sa mga horror movies so walang masasabihin. Pero may experience ako na parang I have to score a film na psychological horror so nanonood ako ng mga conjuring kahit ano talagang medyo nakakabaliw for me. Ngayon lang naman, hindi ako maalam sa horror.  Elijah: Parang that would come off as a surprise na parang ang macabre yung tema niyo lagi atsaka very color driven yung banda niyo na tapos it turns out yung mga members hindi avid na horror fans. That sort of contrast interests me kasi when I try to at the very least spot your live shows, how do you come up with those masks etc. Yung parang thematic yung dating? Sino yung nag-mastermind dun? Calvin: Para sa akin, kay Joao talaga nagsisimula lahat. I’m sorry hindi kita binobola but in terms of live, for the most part, si Joao yung may vision. I feel like the other members, kaming ibang members sa band, siyempre we have some. We have these notions naman of how to play good live shows. I mean, lahat naman kasi kami music prod so we’re supposed to know that, I guess. But si Joao talaga yung nag-conceptualize. Parang siya yung nagsisend palagi ng mga pegs na I don’t know if ili-leak ko. I don’t know if that’s allowed, Joao? [laughs] So it’s either like sabihin natin yung si Bon Iver ganun, like the samples or the backing tracks if we want that aspect and then we’re gonna look into J-Rock and how they dress and how the lights work and how everything is like coordinated. So yun I think si Joao talaga yung is the one who conceptualizes talaga kung ano yung dating ng band when it comes to live. Joao: Well, nung kasi nagsimula yung concept, napansin ko lang kasi when I’m writing songs, I always use dark imagery. Parang may imprint parin yung dark humor na sisingit

EP REVIEW: jucu – tanging alaala

Written by Elijah P. Solo artist jucu doesn’t fake it. His latest EP, tanging alaala, plays like a memory dragged into the present—half-faded, half-reconstructed, but it doesn’t pretend to be authentic. The “distant memories” he sketches out aren’t framed through nostalgia but through the raw texture of alternative sounds. These are genres that doubled as both shelter and symptom during the post-pandemic ennui: post-punk, shoegaze, indie-folk, and other guitar-led corners of the scene. It’s a familiar palette for Gen Z’s genre-hopping musicians—the ones who aren’t afraid to twist the template and upload the results straight to the void (for this case, his expansive discography on his Soundcloud account). tanging alaala reads like a dare. It’s a direct translation: “only memory.” Obvious? Sure. But it works because jucu doesn’t try to cloak honesty in metaphor. The name is a low-hanging fruit, but sometimes, that’s where the sweetness is. From the opening tracks, “Insomnia” and “Salubong ng Ating Mata,” jucu shoves expectations aside; Drum machines sprint, and the acoustic riffs snap into reverb-heavy guitar washes. The production jolts, but it holds together. “Cookies and Cream,” the EP’s centerpiece, sprawls out at six minutes—a dangerous length for a young artist worth their salt in sticking to one sound—but jucu makes it land. The track meanders through hazy shoegaze into a kind of misted-over noise rock, his vocals ghostly, but it so happens to stay grounded throughout the entire thing. By the time “our love has faded away” hits, the emotional terrain feels more regional than imported, it is transformed into post-punk grown from local soil instead of borrowed from across the ponds of the revivalists of the North Americas (think Beat Happening, Surf Curse or even Voxtrot) or even the cloudy skies of the United Kingdom (think Cleaners from Venus, Joy Division or Young Marble Giants). No, tanging alaala doesn’t transcend genre—it doesn’t try to. And maybe that’s its biggest strength. jucu knows the blueprint and doesn’t flinch. He stays inside the frame but paints it with a sense of clarity most genre experimenters tend to blur. The textures, the pacing, the commitment to the mood: it’s all consistent. Maybe too consistent, whereas the conventions might act as a detriment if ever they choose to lessen the experimentation and continue to rely on these conventions heavily. There are moments in this EP that beg for rupture or surprise, but jucu plays it straight, showing that sometimes the best way to make a statement is to simply do the thing well. It’s not anything new, per se, but rather a refinement of the sound. There’s something real forming here—maybe even something worth sticking around for. tanging alaala diamond in the rough waiting to be discovered. SUPPORT THE ART & THE ARTIST:

TRACK REVIEW: zayALLCAPS – MTV’s Pimp My Ride

Written by Elijah P. It isn’t blatant nostalgia. In fact, it’s the opposite – almost a parody of it. But who’s counting? zayALLCAPS leans hard in between the College Dropout-era “Slow Jamz” and XXYYXX debut territory with his infectious single, “MTV’s Pimp My Ride.” The LA-to-Sacramento Fil-Am crooner-rapper hybrid dropped what could be part of a larger, era-defining compilation tape, but here, R&B gets stripped down to its barest parts. And in this standalone track, somehow it’s also his most cohesive single to date.  This isn’t the smooth, synth-led sound of one-dimensional R&B. Instead, zayALLCAPS pulls from the raw textures of the early 2010s LA beat scene, delivering a jagged, off-kilter love letter to the genre. The track stacks harmony over harmony, layering falsetto and grit against pounding 808s that bend the shape of the song. It’s disorienting in the best way, warping the flow just enough to keep you leaning forward. But even as the production threatens to unravel, zayALLCAPS stays locked in vocally, anchoring every moment. “MTV’s Pimp My Ride” sticks. There’s a reason West Coast melodicism has lasted this long, and zayALLCAPS makes it clear he’s not letting go anytime soon. SUPPORT THE ART & THE ARTIST: 

TRACK REVIEW: sumther – forget

Written by Elijah P. sumther’s latest track “forget” sounds like the best kind of house party—the one that spills from a cramped Tomas Morato club into school hallways and basketball courts, chasing sunrise with reckless abandon. Known for his intimate plugg experiments, the artist sheds his bedroom producer skin here, embracing a bigger, brasher sound that crackles with the energy of someone discovering their voice at just the right moment. Where his earlier Soundcloud loosies reveled in microgenre nuances, “forget” plays like a manifesto. sumther was trading pluggnb’s melancholy for a swaggering, synth-drenched anthem about moving on (but only after one last dance). The genius lies in its duality: it’s a breakup song disguised as a party starter, with lyrics that sting even as the 808s and the piano lines dare you not to move. The production expands his world beyond sub-bass corners. Snares and synths ricochet like sneakers on gym floors, melodies shimmer like spilled vodka under strobe lights, and sumther’s delivery—part-sung, part-rapped—carries the giddy exhaustion of someone who’s stayed up too late feeling everything at once. It’s a coming-of-age moment bottled in two-and-a-half minutes: proof that his knack for earworm hooks (that chorus lingers like next-day confetti in your hair) could propel him from niche favorite to undeniable mainstay. If this is sumther unchained, imagine what’s next. SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST:

TRACK REVIEW: Jamey – Do You Wanna Be Alone?

Written by Elijah P. Jamey’s music knows emotional storytelling, personified by drum breaks that hit like heartbeats, vocals that ache with raw vulnerability, and a relentless search for connection in the face of lost love. Their latest track, “Do You Wanna Be Alone?“, is an electronic music delight that shifts gears effortlessly—starting as a quiet, collected two-step before exploding into an operatic trance journey. Jamey’s vocals are the driving force, turning the intensity a notch and making the experience feel nothing short of epic. The track keeps you in the dark, basking in the glow of its instrumentals and vocal presence. The buildup is a seamless work of electronica. There are no instances of it sounding disjointed or forced. Jamey’s vocal work elevates the atmosphere, delivering a “one-time-big-time” effect that lingers long after the track ends. The nocturnal ambiance they create is immersive, wrapping you in its moody embrace for the entire three-and-a-half-minute runtime.  “Do You Wanna Be Alone?” doesn’t just explore the dusky road to salvation—it walks, step by step, with an honesty that’s both haunting and cathartic. Jamey’s ability to blend vulnerability with grandeur was something to witness. It’s not just a song; it’s an emotional journey that solidifies Jamey as a force to be reckoned with in the pop landscape. They manage to make a love-sick tune that doesn’t succumb to a diatribe.  Support the art & the artist:

TRACK REVIEW: Chinese Garden – In Hiding

Written by Elijah P. There is something spellbinding about Chinese Garden’s debut single, “In Hiding.” From the first note, the track pulls you into a world that’s haunting and hypnotic. The lead vocalist’s longing, almost yodeling runs are the centerpiece, weaving through a sonic landscape that feels both intimate and expansive. Twisted electronic textures flicker in the distance, while sparse, echoing instruments create a sense of unease. Meanwhile, the loud, fuzzy guitar in the foreground anchors the track, giving it a visceral edge. The band’s mellow arrangements and poetic syntax feel tailor-made for the yearning hearts and restless souls of “In Hiding.” The production teeters on the edge of collapse, like a glitching computer on the verge of melting—yet it never loses its grip. Instead, it adds a layer of unpredictability that makes “In Hiding” all the more compelling. Bright, shimmering guitar tones cut through the haze while the delays stretch into infinity, creating a dreamlike atmosphere that’s hard to shake off. “In Hiding” speaks a language that resonates with dive bar scenesters and acoustic purists who’ve embraced the digital age. It’s a track that defies easy categorization, drawing comparisons to Phoebe Bridgers and Snail Mail but ultimately carving out a sound entirely its own. By the time the song ends, it’s clear that Chinese Garden isn’t just another band in the indie crop—they’re a unique force that’s unafraid to blur the lines either from the organic and the electronic, the nostalgic and the futuristic. The track lives in between. Support the art & the artist:

MIXTAPE REVIEW: sobe – ICED OUT

Written by Elijah P. The year of 2024 has completed its axis around the sun. Galaxies have aligned to meet the greatest talents and achieve the biggest milestones ever reached. In the case of local music, it’s reached way over its quota. We’ve spent 365 days receiving or witnessing all the accolades and essays from last year’s highlights. From a land thousand miles away mind you, and they managed to catch our attention online. Like a buzzer beater of sorts, it’s a different kind of “plus aura” when you get to be under a listener’s radar for the rest of the year while still being incredibly talented in the same regard. Enter sobe: a Fil-Am musician based in Las Vegas showcasing both unhinged electronica and alternative r&b to the forefront. Their latest mixtape titled “ICED OUT” is as balls-to-the-wall and it is ferocious as it gets. Described as a “maximalist hip-hop tape”, it has quite literally everything an experimental music fan would hope for. Sugary production bitcrushing; hyperpop influenced breakdowns; downright chaotic squeals between pastiche producer tags, sobe has the entire music world on her shiny fingertips. However, this is more than a rager than most everyone would dismiss it to be. These soundscapes give more justice than it is credited for. sobe is out here counting these bands while the rest of her arsenal cooks up more glitch-hop mayhem one track after the other, linking together the bombast of rap mixtape sensibilities with the destructive ease of the crushing mallets landing right on your speaker monitors. Alchemy is in the works in “ICED OUT”. Highlights include overwhelming left turns such as “tiradores” and its blown out production: low pass filters, rattling hi-hats, and disorienting pitches; “4uuuu”, a self-professed ‘broke girl anthem’ while keys jangle in the backdrop of a big-room club banger. She showcases more than just plain lyrical braggadocio in between hosting her own mixtape, the entire project exceeds expectations past production flexing. sobe’s versatility in “ICED OUT” shines the brightest. In “wadditiss”, sobe contemplates on taking out bad exes and taunting on guys for not getting ‘hoes’ while scratches and revving subwoofers cry at the back; “tip” keeps up with sobe’s signature falsetto vocals – a slightly unorthodox approach that would make her lightyears away from most r&b copycats. It has that tongue-in-cheek quality yet bolsters in being earth-shattering. “break in 2” dabbles in pluggnb inspired synthwork, the flourishes include xylophones that patterns like a lullaby while choppy vocals poke in and out of the track. All in all, it’s safe to say that sobe is a proud kababayan making it in the underground of Las Vegas, riding ahead of the trend waves in rap and alternative r&b. Ultimately creating a lane that’s uniquely her own. And like her hometown, Sin City, she continues to break the rules in rap, and that also includes space, time and sound in “ICED OUT”. Support the art and the artist: