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
Author: Elijah Timothy Pareno
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:
ALBUM REVIEW: LUSTBASS – inner space
Written by Anika Maculangan Having been in the game for a while, LUSTBASS delivers new intonations of soulful jazz and R&B modulations into the sphere of what is contemporary in style. A proclamation of lush beats, innerspace is the conglomeration of fruitful collaborations amongst the artist himself with other seminal artists like Jess Connelly, Jason Dhakal, Fern., Cavill, RJ Pineda, Waiian, Akio Rene, Nicole Anjela, and ((( O ))). Just when summer has ended, it makes us anticipate the next one even more, with this relaxed, beachy, and casual expression of sound. Effortless, wavy, and adjacent to chillwave, LUSTBASS explores the multitude of areas that the downward tempo scale of pop can encapsulate, if done right. With its easy-going, almost nonchalant ambiance, innerspace is a composed way of merging the stoical with the serene, in a more or less, leisurely mellowness. Known for his keen, cutting-edge approach to the assembly of rhythm, LUSTBASS best demonstrates this skill in this motley of modish, sophisticated indication of experience and background of joint teamwork with other fellow artists. Some tracks are more atmospheric than others like Yeyuhh, the album is transcendental in the sense that it touches every ounce of one’s attention to notation. Motioning from one switch to the next, the songs in this collection flow with immeasurable poise and flair. Not often are producers given the full stage in most cases of how we laud them in the Philippine context, but in the case of LUSTBASS, this awareness of the man behind is well apparent. In LUSTBASS’ signature polishness, it’s swift for one to recognize LUSTBASS’ appeal to reverberation from a mile away. In addition, the vocalists he collaborates with in this album, bring out even more, the smoothness of his instrumentals. Having previously collaborated with some of these artists LUSTBASS displays his propensity to apply his personal touch in all of his projects — a sharp, crisp, melodious harmony of percussion and refined grandeur. This album comprises tracks that anyone could bring with them to a vacation, and not regret it, because it’s a concise dash of opulence that is not too pronounced but just the right amount to make the sky appear broader. Brightly colored, like fresh tangerine or sand along the coastline, LUSTBASS has a certain character to his musicality, that is funky, fun, and vibrant. It instantly brings us to our feet and makes us want to start the day with an uplifting temperament. If only we could make LUSTBASS’ interspace our alarm sound to waking up every morning — so that we’d be more energized to jump back into productivity. Support the art & artist:
EP REVIEW: The Revisors – Salagubang
Written by Elijah P. The ‘90s alternative rock revival is in full swing, with Twosday channeling Britpop sensibilities, Panjia exuding youthful energy and charm, sci fye embracing grunge-era aesthetics, and The Revisors paying homage to the Eraserheads with their songwriting groove. But wait for just a second, this isn’t a dig nor a reductive statement to compare the neophytes to an already lionized four piece. In fact, they are different. “Salagubang” would beg to differ if it were to play the game. Their 5-track debut EP is worth taking into account. “Salagubang” has a bevy of tracks that aim to reminisce an era and at the same time add something new to the formula: flourishes of guitar noise in “Alina”, the mixture of sunshine pop and chaos in “Take My Hand” or the rambunctious yet wholesome demeanor of “OK Lang Yan”. – there’s so much to pick in terms of highlights. Keoni, Raco, Ninja and Zell add a lot to the table with juxtaposing sensibilities of powerful vocal melodicism and fuzzy textures that add so much personality to their arsenal. Nowadays, the music industry is filled to the brim with vocalists and bands that overstay their welcome in terms of falsetto vocals and slow intimate pacing to add some sort of dramatic yet lazy, ineffective attempts. However, the band in question did it with a fresh mind and a redecorated take on the cliches that come with the conventions of standard “OPM” singer-songwriter rock. And with the formula in mind, The Revisors played it to their advantage in “Salagubang”. There’s an entire scene waiting for them, and the current modern-day power pop/pop rock circus is in good hands with the quartet entering the fold. Support the art & the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: switchbitch – Silang
Written by Jax Figarola For rap duo switchbitch, subversion means crossing the boundaries within the existing political realities in the Philippines from the bottom up. Their debut album Silang – under the genres of conscious/political hip-hop and experimental hip-hop – focuses on making its listeners confront known truths of oppression and systemic inequality, particularly the struggles faced by them as part of the working class. They refuse to compromise their overt socio political messages with forced rhymes or flashy wordplay. Instead, relatable personal narratives of class struggle and resistance run through the lyrics that make the album symbolic yet accessible. There was no need for political jargon or buzzwords that people from all sides of the political spectrum can understand; just critiques of devastating realities that everyone endures under state-sponsored structural violence. With “Koro” as an incendiary prelude and its dense layers of bass, the urgency to address the political realities is immediately established. It meant that the album and its themes should be expected not to be taken lightly. My personal favorites are “Reklamador” and “Ano Na Plano Mo?”, both expressing the precariousness of everyday life, especially for artists and laborers trapped in a system that strives for exploitation. While Filipinos are subjected to structural violence, this system demands our survival at the cost of accepted exploitation—and how the duo transformed lament and critique into performance shouldn’t just be admired as is. Switchbitch wants its listeners to be moved to action by the intensity of the beats, the aggression of vocal delivery, and the sharpness of their lyrics. Yet Silang is not content with remaining alone in anger and resistance. The duo recognizes that vulnerability within the movement brings comfort. Loving one’s nation also means wishing that the state’s incompetence doesn’t stand in the way of personal, romantic love, something switchbitch reflects in tracks like “Irene” and “my bb.” The former, reminiscent of their song “Kang Seulgi” from the Pasintabi EP, is referential to their love for K-Pop group Red Velvet as a couple of lesbians (and really, who doesn’t love Red Velvet?). But nevertheless, it’s a pause from the relentless beats and rhymes, but the political theme never paused. Even a simple act like spending time with a loved one is undercut by the harsh realities of working and wanting money to survive in an unforgiving economy. Lastly, the title track and revolutionary song “Silang” finally anchors the album with a tear-jerking vulnerability that many activists do experience in real life. Subdued guitar strums accompany the duo’s framing of sacrifice as both an individual burden and a collective responsibility, like seeds for future generations. A vocal interlude from different comrades of the movement closes the track and the album, delivering an uplifting reminder that everything will be worthwhile in the end. The unrelenting resistance embodied in the ten songs leading up to this moment carries the weight of fear and contradictions many activists face. Yet, through this powerful project, switchbitch urges everyone to stand in solidarity with one another in the face of those anxieties, emphasizing that even in fear of the state, the collective struggle must continue. Silang performs acts of resistance not just through its lyrics but also in the structure of its sound. The dissonance, the unpredictability, the stellar beat from a tin can drums in “BoboCop,” and the chaos of the production reject the polished aesthetics in mainstream Philippine hip-hop. However, it’s imperative to understand that not everyone may want to listen to harsh political truths or find revolutionary political hip-hop albums good or listenable. But for those who have the prerogative to be moved to action, the album becomes an invitation to reflect, resist, and ultimately, reshape a future grounded in solidarity and collective liberation. SUPPORT THE ART & THE ARTIST: