In Ada Meniv’s Playbook, There Was Darkness Before Light
When you look through the telescope at the moment when the Blood Moon — where astrologists would calculated that it would take a century to evolve — is about to reveal itself, you realize that an album titled LUWAL HATI is about to be uploaded to cyberspace by Ada Meniv; A one-of-a-kind debut album of the trap-metal experimental project of Tisch Nava. The concept of Ada Meniv comes from an internet-induced fever dream of a cultural worker based in Hong Kong, whose vision of the grimmer sides of the Philippines is filtered through intensive worldbuilding. The new album, however, carries moments where one wouldn’t expect these genre trappings to meet, yet they come together in ways that feel deliberate. At the same time, switching between different personas for his DJ alter-ego Fr:(wn and his alternative rave initiative gRave, the music itself is a warning sign for those who want to move deeper into darker corners of the underground.
In tracks like “Placenta,” “Hayeta,” “On Bondage of the Will,” and “Karit,” Ada Meniv taps into an atmosphere less common in a scene saturated with technicolor and maximalism. The lore unfolds in a way that feels reserved for those willing to sit with its discomfort. With parents who both played music early on, and later exposure to local and digital scenes, these influences shaped his direction over time. Here, Tisch lets listeners only scratch the surface of what he has been working toward, both in sound and in creative output overall, putting the album out independently and fully aware of its own abrasive tendencies. Ada Meniv has only gotten started.
[This interview has been edited for brevity and clarity]
Elijah: I think we were internet friends first around 2016 and my first impression was at the time you attended these very diverse mixed-bill shows. Hardcore, metal, mga hip-hop, trap music. Since then, we didn’t really converse as much in those early years, but we somehow found our way to get back into the groove during the pandemic. From what I assume, you grew up with a lot of emo and metal influences. Could you tell me what were the first bands or records that made you feel like music could be a world you could live inside?
Ada Meniv: Si mama tsaka si papa nasa band sila, grunge band. Tapos nagpe-play sila around Manila. Kaya Tisch yung name ko, kasi pangalan ng banda nila is Tisch. Doon nagsimula yung hilig ko sa rock. Simula siya sa Nirvana. Tapos nung four to six years old ako, Nirvana lagi pinapatugtog sa bahay. Tapos Red Hot Chili Peppers, Tool, yung mga sikat sa MTV.
Nung eight to ten years old ako, in-introduce na sa akin ng papa ko yung mas mabibigat pang banda. Naalala ko Disturbed. Tapos lahat ng metal noon, hindi pa metal yung tawag. Parang wala pang label sa mga banda. Korn, Slipknot. Doon ako nagsimula mag-discover ng similar bands sa sarili ko. Pero nag-school ako sa Santa Rosa Laguna, uso yung hip-hop doon. Nahiligan ko rin—Repablikan, mga ganun. Doon nagsimula yung hip-hop side ko. Tapos nag-merge yung fashion ko from hip-hop to metal. Naka-darts ako, hoodie, tapos may studded belt. Yun yung itsura ko noon. Nung grade 5 to 6, in-introduce sa akin ng kaklase ko yung Alesana. Doon ako nagkaroon ng interest sa emo scene.
E: I think pumunta pa sila dito recently like last year?
AM: Oo pero wala ako doon. Sayang.
E: First time nila sa Pilipinas yun after decades.
AM: Nung time na yun, around 2000s sa Santa Rosa. Kasagsagan yun ng emo scene sa Laguna.
E: Sobra, lakas emo scene nila.
AM: Oo, lalo na typecast, mga hardcore ng Piledriver. Wait, dagdag ko lang. Wala pang Spotify, wala pang SoundCloud. Wala rin kaming computer sa bahay. Ang ginagawa ko pumupunta ako sa Olivarez Mall para bumili ng pirated CDs—compilations ng As I Lay Dying, Asking Alexandria. Doon ako nagsimula. Wala sila sa MTV pero sobrang nagustuhan ko yung guitar riffs nila. Yun yung unang inaaral ko sa guitar.
E: What was the first song?
AM: Yung unang natutunan ko sa guitar, tinuro sakin ng papa ko, “Schism” ng Tool. After nun, umalis si papa papuntang Hong Kong. So ako na lang mag-isa nag-discover ng music. Nahilig ako sa drop D, yung mabibigat. Doon ako nagsimula talaga. Yun yung roots ko aside from hip-hop.
E: When was the time you explored more online?
AM: Late na rin. May computer shop malapit sa amin, pero madalas naglalaro lang mga tao doon. May soundtrip yung admin, yun yung pinapakinggan ko lagi. Kaya doon ko rin nadiscover yung ibang sounds. Noong 2009, nagkaroon kami ng laptop tapos binigyan ako ng Globe Tattoo broadband.
E: Ay, same!
AM: Sobrang bagal nun. Isang YouTube video 15 to 30 minutes bago mag-load.
E: 140p lang kaya.
AM: Pero part siya ng experience. Pagkatapos ng intay, ang saya mo na maririnig mo na yung gusto mong pakinggan.
E: Earliest memory ko sa Globe Tattoo, Odd Future, “Oldie” 2011.
AM: Ay oo shet! Malaki rin influence sa akin ni Tyler, pero hindi pa siya kasama sa earliest discoveries ko online. Noon, hinahanap ko pa lang sa YouTube yung mga gusto kong aralin sa guitar—Flyleaf, post-hardcore bands. Tapos nag-aaral din ako ng art rock—Muse, Radiohead.
E: Lumawak yung palette mo.
AM: Oo, eventually. Rabbit hole kasi yung internet. Once pumasok ka, tuloy-tuloy na yun.
E: Ngayon you’re still carrying that Filipino identity in your work as Ada Meniv. How does being part of the overseas Filipino experience affect the way you write or produce music?
AMl: Hindi siya gaano sa lyrics, pero malaki yung influence ng Pilipinas sa soundscape ng Ada Meniv. Sa visuals din, Pilipinas lahat ng settings. Hindi ko pinaplanong mag-set sa ibang bansa. Gusto ko yung nature ng Pilipinas. Sa soundscape, malaking factor yung pagiging Pinoy ko kasi doon ako nag-start mag-explore ng roots. Hanggang ngayon, na-iinvoke ko pa rin siya. Late ako naglabas ng album as Ada Meniv, parang 2026. Pero matagal ko nang sinulat yung ibang tracks. Wala lang akong oras tapusin noon.
E: Which one is the oldest track?
AM: “Placenta.”
E: Gaano katagal ginawa?
AM: Matagal na. Yung riff ng “Placenta,” influence ng Incubus. First or second year high school ko pa iniisip yun. Hindi siya nawala sa isip ko. Wala lang akong pang-record noon.
Ngayon lang ako nagkaroon ng resources—plugins, recording gear—kaya nailabas ko na siya.
E: One of my favorite tracks is “Karit.” Ang ganda ng buildup. Pati yung “Salvia Trip Report” intro, sobrang atmospheric. The whole album feels very psychological. Do you see the project as confronting your darkest thoughts or may narrative siya?
AM: “Placenta” yung anchor ng album. Doon nagsimula lahat. After nun, may idea na ako for the next tracks like “Lisan.” “Mana Drain” yung unang natapos kasi yun yung pinakamadali, influenced by EDM production ko as Fr:(wn. Yung “Salvia Trip Report” at “Lisan” yung pinakamahirap kasi matagal ko nang gustong gawin yung sound na yun. Around 2010–2011 ko pa ini-imagine yun. Inabot ako ng around 6 months para matapos sila. After that, “Moonrat” at ibang tracks. “Karit” yung pinaka-enjoy ako gawin kasi sobrang galing ni Kuya Kevin. Yung ambience ng ‘LUWAL HATI’ yung nagiging glue ng album kahit iba-iba yung genre. Yung paulit-ulit na hangin at tribal drums yung subliminal element.
E: Yung snare ng “On Bondage of the Will,” ang ganda.
AM: Sobrang proud ako dun. Clap, snare, at tribal snare—tatlong layer, iba-ibang EQ. Parang nanununtok yung sound. Yung lyrics at lore, habang ginagawa ko yung album, sinusulat ko rin yung story ni Ada Meniv. Si Ada Meniv parang vagrant sa psychedelic realm. Ako, si Tisch, ako yung host niya. Kapag nasa flow state ako—like habang nagluluto ako sa trabaho—parang nasa ibang dimension yung utak ko. Doon lumalabas si Ada Meniv. Parang sa movie na Soul.
May parts na narrator, may parts na si Tisch, may parts na si Ada Meniv. Ayoko i-giveaway lahat. Yung world niya parang post-apocalyptic psychedelic realm. May authority yung mga tao sa ibang dimension. Dystopian na rin siya. Si Ada Meniv parang defender ng last religion sa world na yun. Hindi real name yung Ada Meniv, parang Dark Souls style naming. Matagal ko nang ginagawa yung lore, hanggang ngayon ongoing pa.
E: Yung Salvia Trip Report, parang interlude, parang diss track ng album. How was the visual process?
AM: Wala ako doon. Shoutout kay Rosario, siya visual director ng Ada Meniv. Sa Korean Temple. Silang sila nag-shoot, temple locations with River Dimitri as photographer. May tatlong model—Rui, Erich, at si Cayenne. May isa pa na parang temple guard character, hindi tumitingin sa camera.
E: That’s fucking fun.
Pag gumagawa ako ng material kay Ada Meniv, ako lang mag-isa. Control ko yung environment. Walang nagsasabi kung maganda o hindi.
-Ada Meniv
AM: Oo, sobrang saya. Pwede siyang partner ng soundscape na ginagawa ko. Yun yung gusto ko doon kasi naiintindihan nila yung gusto ko kahit nandito ako sa ibang bansa.
E: At yung music that you have that’s already there and having people understand you or communicate the visuals through your music, it must have been the biggest compliment that they absolutely get your vision. Would you say it’s your alter ego or is it just a completely separate persona, yung Ada Meniv?
AM: Kaya pa rin akong may sariling personality away from him. Kaya kong mag-step away sa kanya tapos gumawa ako ng material ni Fr:(wn na hindi mo maiisip na si Ada Meniv pala. Parang gano’n.
E: Can you distinguish yourself personally from this character that lives outside of you? How does Ada Meniv differ from the Frown persona?
AM: Si Fr:(wn, siyempre doon nanggaling—yung roots niya from Skrillex, parang EDM. Doon tayo sa side na yan. Hindi ko siya maiisip i-merge kay Ada Meniv kasi ibang practice kung paano ko siya i-play at i-record. Doon pa lang mapapansin na ng mga nakikinig na parang dalawang magkaibang tao yung gumawa ng dalawang project.
E: The first time I encountered Frown was through gRave, post-pandemic. You built this DIY party collective that emphasizes experimentation and community. What inspired you to start organizing those kinds of parties?
AM: Naisip ko yung gTave kasi hindi pa siya gRave noon. Parang performance art show lang sa Pinas yung idea. Para sa akin, yung pinakamagandang venue na napuntahan ko, nagsara na, tawag sa venue “Limbo.”
E: Ay, putek! Wala na rin yun!
AM: Yun lagi kong sinasabi kung saan nanggaling yung gRrave—sa Limbo. Ang ganda ng venue na yan.
E: Yeah, nasa gitna ng Poblacion, may bilog na pinto. Pagpasok mo parang ibang mundo—low ceiling gallery, tapos mga wild na performers. Nakita ko si Ryosuke Kiyasu doon.
AM: Naka-line up ako dyan.
E: Post-pandemic sa Mows?
AM: Oo, under Mainland Connection.
E: Because of Kiyasu, parang na-realize ko na normal pala yung mixed bills. Isang snare lang dala niya pero kaya niya makipag-line up sa iba’t ibang genre. When I think of gRave, it feels similar pero in a sense na ritual-like na spectacle siya. Parang rare, ephemeral, ganun. Is that intentional?
AM: Intentional siya in a way na nahihirapan kami mag-produce ng maraming shows per year. Nawawala yung point ng gRave kapag madalas. Lagi lang siya after Holy Week. Napag-usapan namin na pwede once or twice a year, pero hindi sobra. Ayoko maging parang ibang rave productions na paulit-ulit lang.
E: Do you approach your music the same way—fleeting, experiential?
AM: Yung ‘LUWAL HATI,’ planado talaga siya na i-release kasabay ng Blood Moon. Matagal ko nang plan yun. Buti natapos ko before mangyari yung event. Yun yung naging anchor, parang deadline ng project.
E: So it’s almost lifelong?
AM: Yung total Blood Moon, parang once every century. Yung lunar eclipse pwede yearly.
E: What kind of freedom does experimental hip-hop or trap metal give you?
AM: Pag gumagawa ako ng material kay Ada Meniv, ako lang mag-isa. Control ko yung environment. Walang nagsasabi kung maganda o hindi. Hindi ko rin pinapasa sa friends ko during the process. After ko ma-polish, saka ko lang pinapakinggan sa iba. Pero kahit ganun, may nababago pa rin. Kung wala yung Blood Moon, baka hindi pa rin siya nare-release kasi pabago-bago ako ng sound design.
E: What do you hope listeners take from ‘LUWAL HATI’?
AM: Hindi ko intention magbigay ng specific feeling. Pero kung may mapulot sila, sana huwag silang tumingin sa isang typebeat lang. Maraming pwedeng kunin—parang palengke. Kunin mo lahat ng gusto mo, tapos ikaw na bahala.
E: What was the most chaotic moment performing live as Frown?
AM: gRave 3. Nandoon ka ba?
E: Halfway the program lang.
AM: Yun yung pinaka-chaotic. May nagbabasag ng bote sa gitna ng set ko. Tinigil ko yung music during “Yonkers” ni Tyler, the Creator para i-clear yung area. Habang nangyayari yun, sa peripheral vision ko may nagsusuntukan, may sumisigaw ng “stop the car.” So tinigil ko talaga. Parang sobra na. Isa pa, yung first gRave. Hindi ko pa alam yung audience. Beta test pa lang. Nagulat kami may nag-mosh pit sa set ko. Akala ko joke lang yun nung pinost ko. Pero nangyari talaga.
E: That was magical.
AM: Oo. Yun yung roots ng Grave—yunh Limbo and small events in general kung saan may nagmo-mosh kahit DJ set lang. Tisch pa lang name ko noon, hindi pa Fr:(wn. Up to North days.
E: Nag-DJ ka pa sa 88 Vibers naalala ko yun sa Team Jesus?
From his fish-out-of-water stories, inebriated romance attempts, and youthful recklessness across the board, Feng tries to reinvent the rock-and-roll star image through maximalism-veiled minimalism.
In his first major album release, ‘Weekend Rockstar,’ the English-Filipino rapper follows a formula: take the scruff from the cloud rap template, then spruce it up with more contemporary elements of his time. Sometimes, this is done as a display of ingenuity, and other times, as a hint of the undercookedness of some ideas served too early.
Except for his more daring ventures — such as in “F’d Up,” “J*b,” and “XOXO” — where Feng doubles down on the dreamy ambience produced by layers of glitchy synths and sample chops paired with his mellow delivery, much of ‘Weekend Rockstar’ falls short in capturing the self-flagellating levels of devotion rockstars give to the pathos of their sound; rather, they aggregate the unsuccessful attempt at embellishing a sound with unnecessary polish.
Coincidentally, these three examples are also some of his most emotionally potent on the album, and the most Feng sounded like a rockstar. However, some of his more passive performances — like in “Dopest Girl,” “Superstar,” and “Best Friend” — exhibit a positive contrast to Feng’s bombastic highlights.
But where Feng’s artistic direction stumbles, his storytelling shines.
‘Weekend Rockstar’ is best seen as a journal of a coming-of-age narrator in a drunken stupor for greatness. Deeply entrenched in the cold, dreary streets of his UK upbringing, Feng was upfront about his desire to add color to his life. By moving to the United States, as he aptly shared in his energetic album opener, “Cali Crazy,” he believed his life was about to change — that he was about to become the rockstar he was always destined to become.
From there, Feng further explores the daze of becoming “teenage famous” through events of pure, juvenile ecstasy that he wears on his sleeves. These experiences range from hating his job before his big break (“J*b”), lamenting the changes to a new life (“Fireworks”), and failed relationships turned casual hookups (“XOXO” and “Ex Sex”).
Softening the blow is “Superstar,” where Feng’s own admissions to the pitfalls of fame that he may be ensnared by (or the thoughts thereof that are keeping him awake at night) are on full display. Though whether there is guilt involved in these displays of vulnerability, we can not tell entirely, as his laidback approach to singing masks the true sentiment behind the flex. Whether he comes from a place of pride or shame, Feng believes these experiences will make him a rockstar, even just for a weekend. His pen game already proves that he has the makings of one. But in order to realize his full potential, he now needs to think about just how much farther his stardom can reach.
Spelled in full caps, Singapore’s CURB plays emo with a ferocious bite. The city-state has built a strong reputation in the genre since the mid-2010s revival, with bands like Terrible People, Xingfoo&Roy, and Forests helping push the scene into cult territory. CURB arrives from the same ecosystem, sharing creative ties with the indie lineage surrounding Subsonic Eye.
The trio — guitarist Lucas Tee, bassist Sam Venditti, and drummer Farizi Noorfauzi — first met as diploma students at LASALLE College of the Arts. In their early days, they bonded over the precision of math rock and the intensity of emo’s technical side but eventually grew to appreciate more styles later on. Their debut album Hope You’re Doing Well, Michaella (2022) captures that shift. The record leans on blunt, diaristic lyrics and the kind of guitar crunch associated with bands like Title Fight, yet it resists emo’s more theatrical tendencies. Instead, songs such as “7AM” and “Insult Through Injury” thrive on tight, direct hooks. “Become Again,” one of the album’s heaviest moments, highlights the band’s collaborative dynamic, with all three members trading vocal lines over restless, back-and-forth grooves.
By the time they reached the 2024 EP benjabes!, the group began stretching that formula. The record opens with a surprising detour: slurred half-rap verses delivered by rapper-producer Mary Sue, a longtime collaborator of Noorfauzi. From there, the band gradually slips back into the guitar-driven sound listeners recognize.
For CURB, emo remains a starting point rather than a boundary. The band sees genre labels as temporary signposts rather than a fixed identity. In that sense, Hope You’re Doing Well, Michaella reads almost like a diary — a record of someone confronting their own contradictions while trying to move forward.
Noisier, punk-leaning riffage surfaces in songs like “You’re Me But Worse” and “Blake & The Surf.” Both tracks seem more interested in the pull of friendships and fleeting fascinations than in the anxieties of growing up. In that sense, CURB taps directly into emo’s lineage, where immediacy and youth carry a kind of strange timelessness.
Shanne Dandan is for lovers. When talking to her, it feels like you’ve known her forever; almost like a seatmate you never stopped talking to in elementary school and would eventually share school lunches with. In the age of yearning and finding love on a tricky, slippery slope, Dandan possesses a rare trait– she simply loves the way she loves. It’s a privilege to get to connect with artists in the local scene, they’re not to be put on pedestals because the stage itself is level with everyone else most of the time. Talking to them about their artistry can be done anywhere and sounds just like a Facetime call; and that’s exactly how Dandan approached the simplicity of love and how overcomplicating it is bound to happen, but that’s not what love is going to be like forever.
It was almost surprising to learn then, that Shanne Dandan’s introduction to music was anything but intimate. Like many children shone onto the spotlights of stardom, Dandan started her career at around eight years old and at thirteen upon joining ABS-CBN’s very first The Voice Kids with immense pressure, however, she later deflated it through her discovery of passionate writing. She began breaking free from the child-star bubble through connecting with the Manila Sound Era of OPM through the love and help from her grandmother, she then began a series of covers and being invited to collaborate on soundtracks from films such as “My Husband, My Lover”, “Breathe Again”, and later “100 Awit Para Kay Stella”. Dandan then explored the music scene and later released her debut album in 2024, “Kung Iyong Mamarapati”, where she dissects her own vulnerability and relationship with everything emotional.
Her new single, “Labs Kita”, is a tune to look out for this Valentines season, aiming for a more wholesome approach and homage to lovey-dovey OPM ballads, Dandan gracefully converses on her songwriting process and experiences.
**This interview has been edited for clarity and brevity.
FA:What kinds of music did you grow up listening to, and how did those early influences stay with you?
Shanne Dandan: Growing up, I was really a different person, I wouldn’t really say I was an artist because before I was just being a performer. Since I grew up doing competitive singing then joining singing contests, I thought talaga na, ‘Well, it was a different time naman din before.’ Before, the only way for you to make music – or if you’re a singer, is that you have to join singing contests para ma “discover” ka. So, dinaanan ko yung path na ‘yon, bata pa ako as in! Nag start ako parang mga eight years old? Seven years old? Very young. I got exposed sa industry ng ganong ka aga. Pero music-wise, yung listening ko, na-adapt ko siya sa, syempre, kasama ko sa bahay, yung lola ko, my mom, and my dad. We’re all very musically inclined din, my mom is a singer, lola ko also a singer. So every day we were all listening to music palagi. Lola was always blasting yung radio niya. And yun, I grew up listening to that kind of music, yung pinapakinggan ng lola ko which was music from Pilita Corrales, Cely Bautista, Ella del Rosario… Nakalimutan ko yung channel sa radio, pero parang Sunday radio everyday [laughs] may kaunting religious [themed] podcasts… Pero laging ganon, so growing up, na adapt ko talaga siya and ever since, mahilig talaga ako sa mga lumang bagay. Tapos ayun, na dala ko siya and even nung nagkaroon nakong ng idea and ng c-change na yung environment towards the entertainment industry, meron nang, Instagram, Meron nang YouTube, so mas namotivate ako na “ah okay, ‘di lang pala ito yung tanging ‘way’ ko to become who i want to be!” So then I discovered the magic of songwriting nung siguro 15 ako? 14? Very late bloomer ako kasi up until that point in my life nag j-join parin ako sa mga singing contests, tas may na meet akong mga like-minded people na gusto yung mga bagay na gusto ko, dun ko lang na discover na “Ah I like to write pala” pero before songwriting i really liked writing as a journalist, I was in journalism clubs, and I’m a feature writer pero sa Tagalog/Filipino. Pagsulat ng lathalain! Mahilig ako magsulat ng mga short stories, fantasy, all that! When I discovered songwriting, narealize ko na “ah, may ganito pala, na you can blend your words tapos may melody,” parang nag merge yung dalawang hilig ko which is writing and singing! That’s when I also set boundaries sa family ko, sabi ko ayoko na mag join ng singing contests. Hindi nagustuhan ng mom ko kasi very stage mom talaga yung mom ko– di niya naiintindihan! Sabi niya “Huh? Hindi ‘wag ka diyan” tas nung una, sumasama siya sa mga gigs ko, sa mga bars, and hindi niya maintindihan kasi sanay siya sa mga gigs na ang dami nanonood kasi I used to sing in hotels and events talaga. I would always sing covers lang. So nung nakita niya na ang konti nanonood sakin, ang didilim ng mga bars… pero eventually naging supportive naman siya! Ayun mas naempower ako when I started going to communities that appreciate my craft. But to answer your question, I am very much influenced by my Lola and nag rereflect ‘yun to who I am today and what kind of music I write.
FA:I had a conversation with my friends, and nasabi ko na parang harana na reversed roles yung mga songs mo, kasi with harana, yung audience or yung muse ang highlight kasi sa kanila nadedeclare yung pag-ibig, but with your songwriting, it highlights your own love for your muse.
Shanne Dandan: [Laughs] I feel like nag rereflect din sa craft ko, yung music ko, yung sarili ko! Na I have so much love to give. As in, when you meet my family we are very OA kami, very expressive kami. We always say “I love you,” “ingat ka”, never nawalan ng ganong lambingan sa family ko kaya feeling ko kahit ano gawin ko, okay lang talaga.
FA: When did you realize that you can actually dive into the songwriting world and write your own songs without being under the pressure of childhood stardom or being under the spotlight?
Shanne Dandan: Oh, this is a really good question. Medyo naiiyak na ako… Charot! After joining singing contests, sobrang na drain talaga ako … Syempre hindi alam ng mga bata na work pala yun, may money involved sa ganong industry, akala ko kumakanta lang ako and syempre gusto ko lang mapasaya yung parents ko and family ko ganon. Dati talaga, ayoko maging singer. Introverted ako na bata kaya dati hindi ako natatanggap sa mga auditions for TV kasi wala daw akong personality eh kailangan sa TV na may personality ka or “bibo kid”. So I joined two singing contests on TV, the Voice Kids and sa TV5. Sa TV5 ako naging champion. But after the voice kids, sabi ko ayoko na! Ayoko na kumanta ulit. [laughs] tas nag aral na ako nun, i think was junior in highschool nun. As a kid, I couldn’t understand what losing meant, I got really sad when I got eliminated– not because I wanted to win, but because nadisappoint ko parents ko. So sabi ko “ayoko na, gusto ko na mag aral” and then i pursued journalism at mas naging active ako sa school. After joining that second contest tas nanalo na ako, sabi ko “okay masaya naman siguro yung family ko, so ayoko na. Ayoko na ulit mag ganito.” That’s when I discovered and met indie artists! The very first people that I met from the music scene was sila ate Cherry, Bea Lorenzo, Jellie Villanueva, silang tatlo! Sila ang itinuturing kong mothers, mothers ko sa music ko. They inspired me very much. Minotivate nila ako to sing, to write my own songs and I really got inspired by their own music din lalo na kay ate Jellie– I think we make the same music in the way na may pagka-emotional, storytelling [elements], and also the singing, it’s soulful singing. Tuloy tuloy na after that.
FA: Did you ever talk to your younger self as you grew and realized the person you are now outside of childhood stardom?
Shanne Dandan: I didn’t really do that [talk to my younger self] at that time because I was still a child– I started really connecting with my younger self with my inner child nung eto na, when I made my first album, and parang more on reassurance sya– hala… nakakaiyak [laughs] – I reassured myself na “Hey you’re going to be proud of future me” ganon.
FA: How do you navigate the line between Shanne Dandan the artist and Shanne Dandan the person, and how has reconnecting with your younger self shaped who you are today?
Shanne Dandan: Feeling ko nag evolve talaga ang pagkatao ko in the past few years, when I first started, I felt really connected with myself and then as time goes by medyo nag drift away sya kasi I started focusing on other things tapos nawala yung spark nawala yung passion ko with my own music tapos ngayon, sobrang connected na yung regular self ko outside of gigs and work. My creativity as an artist is also very connected kasi kung dati wala akong drive to write about songs about my internal feelings, lagi lang ako nagsusulat kapag nag kwento yung friend ko about their lovelife and gagawin kong topic yun or inspiration ko sa song tas di ako nakakasulat ng songs about ano talaga na feel ko kaya hirap ako magsulat ng love songs and puro conceptual songs, pero when I started connecting with my inner child and then past ko, accepting that I had a painful past and wala akong magagawa dun and i just chose to be grateful for that because if it weren’t for that, i wouldn’t be where i am today. So when I started setting my mindset sa ganong perspective, bumuhos lahat ng inspiration and mas nakasulat ako ng mas connected na songs and mas “ako” siya. Feeling ko wala talagang difference yung personal artistry ko and yung outside music self ko.
FA: How do you balance being vulnerable in your music while protecting yourself as a person?
Shanne Dandan: Actually, pretty recently din, mas nagiging brave na ako to be very vulnerable sa music ko kasi I stopped thinking about what other people are gonna think about me or these songs. Ito yun eh, ito ang pinagdaanan ko, ito yung gusto kong isulat. I know may mga taong [mararamdaman na] same yung story or may similar experience na makaka connect dun sa songs ko. Yung yung favorite ko rin about releasing music: yung mga taong nag memessage sakin, nag re reach out sakin na “Oh my gosh Shanne, kahit sakin, lahat ng mga stages mo sa buhay ko may narelease kang kanta,” – Very memorable moment, may isang girl na nag message sakin na kunyari may pinagdadaanan siya tas nirelease ko daw yung “Kailan Ba Ako Magiging Masaya?”, nagbreak daw sila ng jowa niya tapos nirelease ko daw yung “Iyakin” di pa daw siya nakaka move on, tapos nirelease ko yung “Di Na Babalik Sayo” naka move on na daw siya, nasama ako sa lahat ng stages ng life niya kahit hindi ko siya kilala. Doon ako kumukuha ng motivation to be more vulnerable and to show more vulnerability. Dati kasi, I was a very vulnerable pero I was sharing too much on the internet at that time, ngayon, I learned how to set boundaries. I learned that when you share too much online, may mga tao nagkakaroon ng parasocial relationship sayo and then may lakas ng loob sila to judge yung life mo and your choices. So now, I only share my vulnerability through music. Yun yung boundaries ko at sobrang na eenjoy ko!
We were all recording [Labs Kita] na and pinakinggan ko yung mix niya, naisip ko ulit na “Ang sweet ko naman, ganto ako mag mahal!”
–Shanne Dandan
FA: Let’s talk about your new track “Labs Kita”, What do you hope listeners take away from this track when they’re navigating their own perspective of love?
Shanne Dandan: Baklaan. Guys, let’s be real.. Charot! [Laughs] I want it to be such a safe space for everyone na nagmamahal. I want to tell everyone that your love is sacred. Your love is supposed to be celebrated. Very straightforward din kasi yung song eh! It’s not really a love song that hides in metaphors, walang ganong! Gusto ko “Matulog ka ng mahimbing tapos pagkagising mo ikikiss kita!” Walang “Aabutin ko lahat ng bituin sayo” hindi! As in, “Good morning, tapos kiss tayo,” ganon! Yung song na yon, Labs Kita, nasulat ko lang siya randomly, nag stay ako dito sa studio, natutulog yung partner ko in the other room, tapos naisip ko, “Hala, sana mahimbing ang tulog niya,” [laughs] tapos kinilig ako dun sa “Hala! Naisip ko yun? Parang ang sweet ko naman!” tapos dun na yung song nag set, then the melody sumunod na, very spontaneous yung songwriting na ginawa ko nung night nayon and then nung we were all recording it na and pinakinggan ko yung mix niya, naisip ko ulit na “ang sweet ko naman, ganto ako mag mahal!” [laughs] and then mas naempower ako kasi nafeel ko that it is a privilege to be loved by me! It’s so healing din, lalo na sa mga people like me who give too much and sobra-sobra talaga mag mahal. Gusto ko lang ireassure mga listeners ko na OKAY LANG! Alam mo yon? As long as you’re giving your all tas masaya ka sa love that you give to other people, that’s okay because in a way that’s also loving yourself. Hindi mo pinupull back yung sarili mo to feel everything, every positive thing. Spread love!
FA: Can you describe moments when singing becomes so emotional that it physically affects you, and how those moments shape your performance?
Shanne Dandan: Umiiyak talaga ako [laughs] maraming beses na nangyari yun, I get really overwhelmed with the situation lalo na yung tour ko for Kung Iyong Mamarapatin, ilang beses ako humagulgol, wala lang, iyakin ako! I am Mercury in Cancer tapos Gemini pa ako… ang dami kong nararamdaman sa buhay… [laughs]
FA: [laughs] GETSSSSSSSSSSS
Shanne Dandan: I just let it flow, pag nafefeel ko yung luha ko, pabagsakin ko siya pero hindi naman yung nakaka overwhelm siya. In a way, I’m grateful for those kinds of emotions na nag flood sakin whenever I sing because that just means na hindi nawawala yung passion ko for singing. Itinuturing kong instrument ko yung voice ko; the way guitarists play their guitars, keyboardists play the piano, yung voice ko ang sinustrum ko, so hindi ko maiiwasan maging emotional, that also just means din na grabe yung love ko for this craft, for voice as an instrument, hindi siya nawala kahit yung start ko medyo rough.
FA: When it comes to songwriting, it’s almost kind of a requirement to pour your heart out on a page or pour your heart out through the sound of a melody. So when it comes to songwriting for you, ano yung mga non-negotiables mo in the songwriting process?
Shanne Dandan: Sa songwriting, wala naman akong rules sa sarili ko, yung process ko kasi is nag sesketch ako sa voice notes– I don’t really play an instrument when I’m writing a song because I don’t want to box myself and limit myself to chords or keys on the piano para maexplore ko yung range ko sa melodies, so I sketch tapos nagkaroon kami ng jam [session] with my band, sila yung nag iinterperate sakin ng chords. Very visual yung isip ko, so the way I describe my ideas– hindi ko masasabi yung “Okay dito is D-flat,” hindi ako ganun eh! More on “gusto ko parang umuulan tapos nabasa ako sa ulan–” parang ganun ako mag describe ng feelings ko! [laughs] And sobrang connected and close kami ng band ko, as in family talaga, so they know what I’m trying to achieve musically, and alam ko pano sila kausapin about it.
FA: Writing with your band is such a good non-negotiable. Nakakapa nila yung pakiramdam mo tapos kaya nilang itranslate yun into music!
Shanne Dandan: Non-negotiable ko si Lui, yung nag p-piano sakin. Non- negotiable ko is yung may bading sa banda. Mas gets nila, mas gets namin [raises eyebrow, laughs] yung mga influences ko which is very Femme talaga. Yun yung non-negotiable ko! [laughs]
I’m surrounded by so many queer people na mahal na mahal ko talaga. Grabe din yung influence nila sa akin. All the queer artists that I listen to are also connected dun sa sinabi ko na non-negotiable ko yung bakla.
-Shanne Dandan
FA: Taking notes for myself…
Shanne Dandan: Can I just say, grabe yung influence ng queer people in my life. Ngayon ko lang din narealize na I’ve been queer my whole life. Iba lang naman din yung panahon dati, so when I opened up to myself and came out to my family, dun ko lang din narealize–pati yung mga friends ko– na alam ko na matagal na. I’m surrounded by so many queer people na mahal na mahal ko talaga. Grabe din yung influence nila sa akin. All the queer artists that I listen to are also connected dun sa sinabi ko na non-negotiable ko yung bakla.
FA: Your aesthetics and fashion styles are also very interconnected with who you are as a person, may pag ka-60s, may pag ka-70s that reflect yung musical upbringings mo, and I also noticed that you wear your hair natural! It’s rare to see an artist embrace their natural curls din kaya it’s so refreshing seeing someone be their authentic self. How did you develop that style?
Shanne Dandan: Matagal na! [laughs] I’m very connected pa rin sa music taste ng lola ko and mga pinakinggan ko nung bata pa ako. Visually, the films I consumed before and the books that I read are all from the 20th century. Sobrang fascinated ako dun sa aesthetic na iyon, nag start siya siguro nung 15 years old ako. Tumblr kid din ako dati! nagkaroon ako ng Tumblr mga 9 years old ako and naalala ko pa yung URL ko pa dati is “Shannederella” kasi love ko yung Cinderella na band…[laughs] Connected talaga yung style ko sa personality ko and sa music ko din kasi very visual ako mag isip, naiimagine ko yung magiging look ko, kasi I’m also a part time stylist. I really like enhancing yung fashion sense ng mga artists, mga musicians like myself and basing it on their personalities and moods. I think I developed that very young because when I was a young teenager naging art director ako for mga iba’t ibang bands before and nag evolve yung creative side ko as I got older.
FA: You mentioned the band Cinderella and your music is very much reminiscent of their songs back then especially with the way you use both tagalog and english in songs. How do you reinterpret classic Filipino pop influences like Cinderella, Didith Reyes, Ella del Rosario and even covering “Boy I love You” by the late Cherie Gil for a modern audience?
Shanne Dandan: I think there’s something about the way they sang their songs from that period of time. Like Yolly Samson from Cinderella, she passed away a very long time ago na, but when you listen to her voice parang ka-call mo lang siya. Sobrang lapit niya sayo kasi her voice really touches your heart. I feel like that touching energy is something that I also want to translate in my music. I reinterpret that energy when I did covers of songs from that era pero namomodernise ko siya in some way but I keep [the old-timey] singing from that era, hindi ko siya iniiba, pineperserve ko siya. I don’t know if this will make sense, pero yung pag ka-feminine ng mga songs nila from that time and the way they write it din. Parang, loving siya okay, pero sa POV ng isang babae, ganon yung gusto ko, yung softness… The Female Gaze!!
FA: What guides your choice when deciding which songs to cover? The feelings the song brings out in you, the way it allows you to explore your voice, do those two things meet?
Shanne Dandan: Wala, kasi requirement siya… Charot! [laughs] Kasi mostly I do covers from movies or OSTs, and lagi nangyayari where kailangan nila ng lumang kanta, ako kaagad ang iniisip nila na ipa cover sa kanta and I guess that’s a compliment kasi gustong gusto ko talaga kumanta ng mga lumang kanta. Sobrang love na love ko kasi as a writer and a literary enthusiast, love na love ko yung usage of Tagalog na sobrang grammatically correct talaga, tulad ng usage of apostrophe then letter Y (‘y), basta ganon! [laughs] Lahat ng natutunan ko when I was still a journalism student, na apply ko parin siya [sa songwriting] Anyway, when it comes to cover song choices that ako mismo pumipili, like with “Boy I Love You”, ako talaga pumili i-cover yun, blessed ako in a way kasi yung label that I’m in, they own most of the songs from the Manila Sound Era of OPM, nasa Vicor Music / Viva Music Group siya.
FA: That’s so cool! May access ka sa buong catalogue.
Shanne Dandan: Yeah! With “Boy I Love You”, favorite song siya ng lola ko so when I was thinking of doing a cover for my album yun ka agad yung song na naisip ko. Sa interpretation naman with that song, kineep ko yung pag ka-lungkot ng kanta pero in a way, nilagyan ko siya ng touch of happy longing from afar, loving from afar.
FA: Do you have any Filipino book recommendations?
Shanne Dandan: Favorite book ko ay kay Lualhati Bautista, “Bata, bata… Pa’no Ka Ginawa?”, Wala akong kinalaman dun sa politics ng book na yon nung binasa ko siya nung bata pa ako pero dun ko na-adapt most of my style in writing.
FA: How important is it to make music that pays homage to the original OPM sound? If so, what makes slow and highly emotional Filipino ballads stand out?
Shanne Dandan: Aside from the fact that I really enjoy that kind of music, I really enjoy performing those songs because it’s preserving Filipino culture. We are very westernised and those songs are also very westernised din pero yung Pinoy essence is still captured lalo na yung mga love songs ng Pinoy. Very hopeless romantic tayo as Filipinos. We describe being in love to someone in a very Filipino way, may pa-kilig-kilig pa [laughs]
Preserving Manila Sound is also important din kasi Manila Sound is a mix of different genres eh so may pop, may jazz, may soul, so yun din ang mga iniisip kong sound whenever may isunusulat akong kanta. It’s all about the heart.
FA: Was there a moment during writing or recording when you surprised yourself emotionally?
Shanne Dandan: Ang dami! [Laughs] Most of the songs na nasusulat ko ngayon is– I didn’t expect myself na magiging ganito ako ka-open sa music ko lalo with “Labs Kita” and yung first album ko. Para talaga akong nakawala sa cage, ganon yung feeling. When I was writing and recording “Kung Iyong Mamarapatin”, my main goal was to reintroduce myself as an artist and as a musician. You’ve seen a different version of me, but ito talaga ako; this is the music I grew up with, ito yung roots ko. But then I released it, and nakikita ko na siya sa Spotify, online, everywhere… Ako yung nagulat sa sarili kong growth na naging ganito ako ka-open… Slay… [laughs] Na-appreciate ko yung sarili ko for being that open and brave to write those songs, lalo na sa kantang “Kailan ba ako magiging masaya?”, When I was writing it I was in a very dark place and iniisip ko noon na secret song lang siya kasi ginawa ko lang siya to express what I was feeling. Pero, sobrang freeing din nung nirelease ko siya. Now, with “Labs Kita”, nainspire kaming lahat to do more and we’re now planning to create a new body of work, I’m so excited!
Feeling ko lahat ng kinds of pagmamahal, whether it’s directed to other people or to yourself, you’re also simultaneously hoping. Kung wala nang hope, asan na yung love? Mag best friend sila!
–Shanne Dandan
FA: A year after the album’s release, how do you now view the person who wrote these songs? Now that you’re in a stage where you can write more freely about your emotions, do you think it’s easier to write about affection or heartbreak?
Shanne Dandan: It depends kung anong phase ka na sa buhay mo, syempre if malungkot ka, mas madali magsulat ng malungkot na kanta. Lately, I find myself writing a lot of love songs. So I guess very in love talaga ako ngayon [laughs] Pero I’m not yet at that point na yung mga songwriters, grabe yung skills nila to re-imagine a very different situation na wala naman sila. But I’m still connected with myself and my emotions when I’m writing. Nowadays, I feel like it’s easier for me to write happier love songs about love and then more about myself – not necessarily about love naman pero my own self-discovery, coming of age, all that. Nasa phase ako sa life na may mga moments na napapaisip ka na “Hala, tumatanda na, there’s bills to pay,” Tas mga moments with your old friends now, but I choose not to dwell on the fact that we’re now growing old; I’m happy that I get to grow old with my friends and with my family and with the one I love. Ang saya lang.
FA: How did your collaboration with Shadiel shape the final sound of “Labs Kita”?
Shanne Dandan: Sobrang amazing, It has always been my dream to collaborate with Shadiel lalo na to record in his studio sa Baguio. I think the place has a lot of impact sa song, kasi Baguio is such a beautiful place ang lamig lamig pa puro nature, so ganon rin maririnig mo sa song. Shadiel has a lot of ideas na hindi ko maisip na ako lang or even my band, it helps a lot with the song if may ibang tenga na nakakarinig that’s outside of the circle of people na kasama mo palagi. Ang laking impact ng ibang ear. With the intro, siya yung nag isip nun. I feel very honored na na ka-work ko siya and him and his team are very down-to-earth and they’re not the type of music producers that have so many criticisms sa mga songs mo, they just let the artist be. They really believe in your craft and don’t try to change it. Sobrang saya.
FA: What was the biggest difference between producing this single and producing your previous album?
Shanne Dandan: Masaya na ako. Kasi Panay iyak lang talaga ako when I was recording my previous album– and not naman sad cries, more on happy cries talaga na “Oh my God, I did this, Oh my gosh natapos na naten”, sobrang na-attach kasi ako with the people na gumawa ng last album ko and also, syempre now. Sa “Labs Kita”, Si Lui parin, Pat, Duo, and Kurt, band ko talaga. The difference siguro is yung vibe ng song. “Labs Kita” is much lighter and happier, ganon din yung vibe namin sa studio, very light energy and chill lang!
FA: What can you say about your other upcoming projects, if you can say anything about it?
Shanne Dandan: I’m very excited for this year, especially kasi yung year na ‘to, is such a ground-breaking moment for me as an artist because I started being more accepting and na discover ko itong whole new side of songwriting. Na pwede pala magaan lang and masaya. Parang nag tatae ako ng kanta [laugs] But yeah! Lalo na sa Valentines, February is going to be a super busy month for us and people invite me to sing at their weddings and I really really love that kasi lagi ako umiiyak, ang cute, kahit kaninong kasal!
FA: Do you think that love can exist without hope?
Shanne Dandan: Feeling ko hindi! There are two sides of hope. When you love someone, they love you back. Syempre, may positive hope na we’re going to grow old together and magiging masaya lang tayo, but then, syempre, madami kayong ipagdadaanan, dadating sa point na mawawalan ka rin ng hope. But it’s all about the perspective and affirmations to yourself na you [and your partner] will get through this. Feeling ko lahat ng kinds of pagmamahal, whether it’s directed to other people or to yourself, you’re also simultaneously hoping. Kung wala nang hope, asan na yung love? Mag best friend sila!
In the middle of the vast ethernet lies a genre that has been stretched, flattened, recycled, and reborn more times than anyone can reasonably count. Shoegaze, once tied to distortion pedals, rehearsal rooms, and subcultural isolation, has since found a second life online, where riffs circulate as presets, moods become templates, and entire scenes form inside comment sections. Out of that churn emerged Wisp, a Thai-Taiwanese American musician whose rise traces how shoegaze slipped from niche fixation into one of the most accessible sounds of the 2020s.
Wisp’s earliest material, dating back to 2023, lived where many young artists now begin: alone in a bedroom, posting short instrumental clips online. Her early TikTok uploads leaned into shoegaze “type beat” structures, dense guitar layers looping into themselves, melodies hovering for the majority of the track. These clips spread quickly because her contemporaries understood how it could function in a compressed, scroll-first environment. Shoegaze became texture first, atmosphere before statement, something listeners could step into alongside a rich story that traces back to influences of noise rock and post-punk in the 80s.
That clarity carried into her first EP, Pandora released in 2024, which marked a shift from small snippets to fully formed songs. Tracks like “Pandora” and “Mimi” expanded her sound, pairing blown-out guitars with soft, hushed vocals that rarely rose above a whisper. Her voice became one of her defining traits, dreamy and lo-fi, sitting low in the mix as another instrument rather than a focal point. It gave the music a sense of closeness, as if the listener had stumbled into something private. At times, stepping into Wisp’s worldbuilding as the wall of noise envelopes the listeners one at a time.
As her audience grew, so did the scale of her work. Wisp’s songwriting eventually sharpened her sensibilities in writing more melodic pieces of music; Her arrangements thickened, and her live presence followed suit. What began as solo bedroom recordings translated into full-band performances capable of filling festival stages, all while keeping the grimy, internet-bred edge intact. Shoegaze, in her hands, did not lose its heaviness as it grew louder. It simply became easier to step into.
That evolution continues on her debut album If Not Winter released in 2025, where newer songs like “Black Swan” or “Sword” lean further into contrast. The guitars hit harder, the structures tighten, and the emotional palette darkens without drifting into excess. The whispery vocals remain, floating over walls of sound that feel heavier and more deliberate than before. It is music shaped by online beginnings yet no longer confined to them.
Wisp’s career reflects a broader shift in how shoegaze functions today. Detached from strict lineage and carried by platforms that reward immediacy, the genre has opened itself to a new generation. Through texture and a clear sense of mood, Wisp helped make shoegaze feel less like insular and more like a shared space for a wider audience, one that listeners could enter from anywhere and stay as long as they liked.
In an industry driven by visibility and speed, Ourselves The Elves embody a DIY ethic that builds on showing up and sustaining community and embracing contradiction across a decade of making music together
There’s a tendency to frame longevity in the local underground scene as triumph, survival as spectacle, and persistence as proof of greatness. However, Ourselves The Elves don’t seem to be interested in that kind of narrative. A decade on from their debut EP, Geography Lessons, the band speaks less like veterans guarding a legacy and more like participants who never left. They’re still booking their own shows, printing CDs themselves, and keep the promise of never attaching to a money hungry music label. “DIY or die” is their stubborn yet gentle manifesto.
Formed in the early 2010s, Ourselves The Elves emerged as a college band in UP during a time when genre borders felt porous and gig lineups were wildly heterogeneous with rock bands sharing stages with DJs, electronic acts, and solo performers. For Ourselves The Elves, the underground has never been an abstract ideal. It’s always been logistical, relational, and deeply emotional; it is as interpersonal as it is intrapersonal.
Celebrating a decade of Geography Lessons, the band speaks of the EP with a mixture of disbelief and gratitude. What began as an exercise in recording and release, self-funded and self-distributed and nearly missing its own launch deadline, has proven unexpectedly enduring. Newer listeners continue to discover it, finding something current in its vulnerability. For Paula Castillo, who was once a fan before joining the band, finds that the EP’s continued resonance reflects the honesty of its songwriting and why it remains meaningful years later.
That honesty has always included contradictions. Despite the band’s name and their later embrace of “self” as a central theme in their music, Cabral is careful to point out that many of their early lyrics are self-deprecating, even harsh. Rather than offering clean affirmations, Ourselves The Elves wrote through the mess of early adulthood: loving and hating oneself simultaneously, navigating friendship, frustration, and moral uncertainty. Throughout their entire discography, self-love is an uneasy conclusion arrived at after sitting with extreme discomfort. It isn’t a simple commute with an extravagant destination. “It’s about embracing the self but it’s also about hating the self,” Aly says. Perhaps that realization is the crux of the Elves’ existence.
When venues close, what’s mourned isn’t just the loss of a stage, but the memories formed there by performers, organizers, and gig-goers alike. As lead guitarist Akira Medina reflects, the survival of any space depends on whether it genuinely serves a community. The emphasis on service–on showing up for one another– runs through the band’s history. Their collaborations, from Petersen Vargas’ film work to community-run gigs and collectives reveal a culture built less on individual ascent and more on shared emotional labor.
Crucially, the band refuses to retroactively professionalize their story. Even now, they hesitate to call themselves pioneers. DIY, for them, was never a branding exercise. They sustained a garden of sound and technicolor. They sustained a way of working where bands double as organizers, collaborators, and caretakers of one another’s creative lives. What Ourselves The Elves has taught the youngins of the scene is to hold on to DIY as a means of retaining agency and not purity politics, or as Ponch Salvador puts it: to be cringe, after all, is to be free.
In an industry increasingly shaped by speed, visibility and metrics, Aly Cabral, Akira Medina, Paula Castillo, and Ponch Salvador exemplify the DIY ethic of not relying on shortcuts nor do they treat it like a hustle. Not mastery, not dominance, care. Care for process, for people, for the slow work of becoming, If their legacy lies anywhere, it’s in proving that staying can be just as radical as breaking through.
FA:What were your highlights from the 2016 era of the music scene that you still wish were prevalent in the scene today?
ALY: I think yung diversity of events at that time, the indie scene was thriving really well– not to say that it’s dying right now, but yun yung time na ang daming lumabas na bagong bands na sabay sabay and ang daming gigs where bands would play in the lineup along with different genres. There were also DJs, there were bands, there were electronic acts, and solo acts. So I guess mas buhay yung time before the pandemic, relatively yung music scene in general.
FA: Do you think that the scene is going through a “recession?”
PONCH: I feel like the crowd just became more inclusive and perceptive towards others that you like.
PAULA: Yeah. And I don’t think that recession equates to things being cancelled and whatnot. Mas nagiging aware [of the scene] na kasi yung kids nowadays. They’re more aware of different things going on.
I think that eventually, if a venue [at risk of closing] will survive, factors like how accessible it is to young people who go to gigs and questioning if it serves a community [will help] keep it alive.
–Aki Medina, Ourselves the Elves
PONCH: I don’t think there’s a [scene] recession going on.
AKI: I think it happens all the time but it’s not really [a recession]. There are always changes– it could be like how active the scene is, yung venues- lalo na yung venues. Personally, we lost a few of our favorite venues due to them closing down.
ALY: I agree with that. I mean, for sure there’s an economic recession pero when it comes to art and music. It’s affecting yung economic positions namin, it’s hard to get together all the time now because we have work and everything but we still find ways. A lot of new young artists now rely on the internet as well and social media so nag adapt yung mga artists.
FA: I want to ask Aki about when venues like Red Verb Studio or Route 196 closed, how did that make you feel then and what do you think about the venue shortage now?
AKI: I’m not sure about now, , I haven’t had the time to go out and explore as much personal connection [within the scene] lately. So when it closed down, I reminisced a lot of memories there with the band and as a gig goer. I think now, I see that there are new venues popping up and a lot of younger people trying to keep these new venues alive. I think that eventually, if a venue [at risk of closing] will survive, factors like how accessible it is to young people who go to gigs and questioning if it serves a community [will help] keep it alive.
FA: It’s been a decade since Geography Lessons was released, what does that album mean to you now both individually and as a band?
ALY: It’s been a decade. It’s been that long. It’s amazing that we were able to sustain this band and that friendship for longer than that. I feel like things are coming full circle because it’s also not just 10 years for our album but also for the film of our friend Petersen Vargas, which inspired the EP. And now, I still get to collaborate with Petersen and I still see him a lot more recently. So there’s a full circle feeling of collaboration and working together and all those years made me appreciate the music more – seeing how we’ve grown then as a band.
PONCH: It’s just wild for me. I didn’t think so many people would like an EP of all things or something like an EP would have stuck with them for so long or if they heard it for the first time. I’m still surprised to this day. Yeah, it just surprises me that people still like it or if they listen to it or it feels so fresh to them if they listen to it for the first time.
AKI: I think from that time it was a good exercise in learning how to be recording and releasing material. Kasi we’re a very independent band so usually we just do our do things talaga ourselves. So a lot of the stuff that we did ourselves were printing the CDs to selling it in shows. I think muntik nang di umabot yung CDs when we released it at the gig so parang it’s a good learning experience in being a band and like from all aspects, especially the songwriting and recording part.
PAULA: It’s amazing to see how it resonates with younger people nowadays. Ako kasi, before even joining the band, I was a fan of Ourselves The Elves as well. So listening to the EP back then, I could tell that it was timeless that the songwriting is timeless and it’s nice to see it resonate with people nowadays parin. So it’s nice that younger people got to still connect with it nung pandemic and there was a need to hear it or see it live. Nowadays it’s nice to experience that.
FA: When I watched Some Nights I Feel Like Walking by Petersen Vargas, I wanted to ask Aly what it was like to score the film with your brother as well as implementing your own personal tastes in music while also including “Force Field” by Ourselves The Elves in the film. How are you able to decipher what goes where?
ALY: It’s mostly on Petersen. Since he’s the director, he guides me a lot with the music that I do. He was actually the one who decided to put “Force Field” there because we were trying to figure out what was the best music for that– whether or not I should do a score for that, so for me, the way that I score my solo compositions is not separate from the music that we do for OTE. Madali naman siya i-connect. For me, the band’s music is a continuation of what I do now as a solo artist.
Photo from ellyphantart
FA: You guys have truly paved the way for the DIY scene that we know today. How do you hold space for your earlier music like the Geography Lessons EP until you released Self Is Universe? How do you feel about the mark that you’ve made on the scene today? Is it something that you guys think about?
PONCH: Personally, I guess it’s because I don’t go out as much probably, I seldom see DIY stuff popping up. If not I mean the shows, you know, people from like Sining Shelter a lot of those are DIY and a lot of the data are DIY. Do we want to call ourselves pioneers of DIY? I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure other people have done that before us. Correct me if I’m wrong, but Eggboy’s record is DIY.
PAULA: Tsaka yung collective nila Mikey, like Ciudad. They’re also DIY. We also learned from them as well. Yeah. We didn’t pave the way in terms of DIY–I mean not us as a band but the scene that we were in before the mid early 2010s. We were not just in bands before kasi we also tried to do shows where we book shows by ourselves, like, nag organize dati si Aly ng shows, nag organize din ako ng shows before, so, it’s not just [Ourselves The Elves], it was the community then before .
FA:How did it feel like to be a part of productions then versus now? Are there things that are different with how bands organize their own gigs?
PAULA: On our last show I was also organizing– we were also running the show. Aly ran the bar and then I was a part of the prod, so, I was making sure things were going on smoothly. But then again, I was still coordinating with my bandmates like their preferences or tending to people. It was really tight knit because of the lineup on that show as well. We’re also bandmates of bands that were there. Now may mga DIY shows the bands would organize it and like run it themselves. Let’s just say like there’s different skills of um shows nowadays as well. So, I can’t disregard DIY band members themselves.
I feel more confident knowing that people actually like the music and the lyrics even if I know my personal point of view. So like there’s comfort knowing that and that definitely helped me become more confident in expressing my feelings not just through music but like generally as a person.
–Aly Cabral
FA: What made the band decide not to hide their true emotions under elves, but moreso, embrace the “self” through lyricism and rhythmic experimentation?
ALY: Thematically, it does deal with embracing the self, but I actually think that a lot of our lyrics then are actually self-deprecating sometimes. So, I feel like it’s showing the reality of how you feel about yourself, especially if you’re going through that [coming of age] we started during college and then we were like making music that expresses your personal lives. So, at that age I feel like I also had a lot of frustration about myself and the world. So I was just trying to convey that honestly with the lyrics. Yeah. It’s about embracing the self but it’s also about hating the self sometimes if you did something wrong.
FA: Were there any like I know unexplainable feelings that you were able to put in songs?
ALY: I think yeah what I just mentioned which is the conflicting feeling of loving yourself and also hating yourself at the same time but in the end having that sort of epiphany or awakening na ‘oh in the end you’re stuck with yourself so self love parin or love wins!’ So right there all these complicated feelings now from early adulthood parang ganon. All mixed feelings like not just love but also friendship and conflicts and everything.
FA: Aly, how did writing and journalism impact your personhood and the things you believe, which are also reflected in songwriting/instrumentation?
ALY: It definitely made me feel more fearless kasi knowing that I could have this channel to express my feelings honestly and share it to the world. So merong feeling of I guess feeling bold but at the same time vulnerable because these are personal feelings. So right now, I feel more confident knowing that people actually like the music and the lyrics even if I know my personal point of view. So like there’s comfort knowing that and that definitely helped me become more confident in expressing my feelings not just through music but like generally as a person.
Photo from ellyphantart
FA: What advice would you give to musicians in the scene who want to have a long impact like Ourselves The Elves?
PAULA: I feel like number one is to find bandmates that are your friends. I feel like yun yung secret sauce namin. We are all now busy nowadays individually but I feel like I could hang out with each one of them outside music and then [my other advice is to] cultivate yung chemistry niyo as people and as bandmates inside of whatever unit that you are in [whether] as friends or as bandmates, dun niyo ma mimix yung creativity niyo or yung talent niyo together seamlessly.
AKI: My answer is more of how to navigate the industry or like the system which people like us operate in. I think it’s important to know [how] set boundaries for yourself and know what you’re comfortable with doing, how you interact with other entities, other organizations or whatever. And if you’re not sure what you want to do, I think you should know what you’re not comfortable doing. I think it’s very important to keep yourself in check and set your own boundaries.
ALY: Find your tribe talaga and collective. At the same time, set boundaries with not just each other or with people in the scene, but also people outside the scene especially. Tas yung take ko naman is that I really believe in DIY honestly. Like yung saying “DIY or die”, I believe in that because we’ve been like that for years and now we’re still like that. We still enjoy it. Of course, may mga pros and cons, but feel like for me it’s the best way to go. And also other than that, it helps to have a clear vision kasi that’s going to have a clear direction where you want your music or your career to go and then everything else will follow.
PONCH: If you want your band to just be blasting music, I think, as much as I want to do it, I’m pretty sure the rest of my bandmates don’t want to do it kasi. And it’s really for a better cause but I guess don’t do lame shit. I guess don’t do whatever seems trendy. I feel like that’s like a one way ticket to just lasting three six months [in a band]. Just be yourself. Kahit cringe siya kasi to be cringe is to be free, you know. PAULA: That is so you Ponch. [Laughs]
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 of romances, and the song itself glows with that soft, twinkly sweetness that you might hear in a Christmas tune. The track’s instrumentation has this fluffy and cold shimmer that fits well with the song’s theme of young people happily (or maybe not?) participating in non-committal, non-serious, and uncomplicated sextuationships. Sex does feel more romantic when the other person clearly has a crush on you! And for anyone living in that same no-strings setup and/or who loves to thirst trap, this track may just become your own ‘paborito,’ as it loops the exact feeling of mindless fun and horny freedom. — Jax Figarola
24. geo – i promise
In “i promise,” George Santos’ indie track operates as an intense psychological study of relationship dissolution, focusing entirely on a desperate, unstable plea for temporal stasis. Within the confines of reverb-drenched guitars, the bedroom-pop sensibility akin to Her’s is complemented by hooks and repetition of “wait” and the demand for a minimal delay, “give me a day or two,’ which underscores a profound belief in the immediate repairability of deep-seated conflict. The emotional volatility seated in “i promise” is a precise document of denial, where the desperate belief in an easy fix clashes with the inevitable reality of relational collapse. — Adrian Jade Francisco
23. Revisors – Pagupit
REVISORS’ “Pagupit” is a snappy, melodic alt-rock confession frames the deliberate snip of the shears as a necessary emotional surgery. Though the track’s surface might be jangly, the guitars are ruthless, carving the air with a precision that drives home the absolute, harsh closure of the relationship. The vocals hover masterfully between irony and absolute avowal, uncertain whether to regret the breakup or relish the sheer recklessness of cutting their hair. While the speaker demands to be literally drowned, the perfect riff underscores the emotional chaos, leaving them paralyzed by the ultimate, heavy question of purpose: “Mula rito, paano na ako ngayon?” — Adrian Jade Francisco
22. Chinese Garden – In Hiding
In the best way possible, “In Hiding” is a lethargic experience. Its hypnotic guitar melodies adorned in chorus and reverb coat the percussive sound of the acoustic strumming behind it, both serving to reinforce a sense of deep longing expressed by the vocals and lyrics. Echoes of “Did I laugh too loud? Did I stay too quiet? Where are you going?” get lost in this lush soundscape. It gives you the perfect excuse to put on your headphones, look out the nearest window, and wonder about what could’ve been. And while this track may not have all the answers, it’s right there with you to keep you company, for you to lose yourself in its hypnosis. — Francine Sundiang
21. Andrea Obscura – Garden
Dream pop can be many things, from some of the most haunting works of music you will ever hear to bright and jangly anthems. Andrea Obscura’s “Garden” embraces a middleground, offering a respectable, indie-influenced track that is every bit as wistful as it is catchy. The production is solid, bringing out a quiet sense of longing in the instruments that would be right at home in small, intimate venues or in a Tiny Desk concert. Andrea Ramos’ vocals are soft and mumbly in the best way possible, easy to sing along to and connect with. In the end, “Garden” feels like a warm hug, like a letter from a dear friend about how they’re feeling now. — Francine Sundiang
20. BABY FREEZE – MOST HIGH
In the male-dominated rap scene, BABY FREEZE unapologetically enters any room to deliver swag and spunk in the form of bars, all while wearing lip gloss and blue eyeshadow. In “MOST HIGH,” every line leaves a sting to anyone who can’t keep her name out of their mouth. With Never Paco’s mixing bringing her feisty attitude to sound, BABY FREEZE raps in all-caps with grinning teeth. The twinkly textures and aggressive 808 rolls in the production supply the track with the right amount of flair to stick its landing. Paradoxically, BABY FREEZE never fails to spit fire high up from where she stands, and she’s never coming down. — Aly Maaño
19. Bankyu ft. Wayvier – SWISH
2025 saw the come-up of Baller Room, a collective of DJs taking their turntables out of the dark corners of the city and onto the basketball court, staging a kind of daytime block party that’s still able to form a genuinely uplifting community through music, sportsmanship, and camaraderie. It’s the perfect setting for a laidback track about kicking it with your bros and catching highs on some rings — in more ways than one. Bankyu and Wavyier float on a Kyleaux-helmed beat on “SWISH” as they rap about their pursuit of good vibes and a day of ballin’. These two are so attuned to the sounds around them, you don’t even have to understand a word they’re saying to know that they’re about to have a good time. Three points at the buzzer without even trying. — Gabriel Bagahansol
18. Fresh-Ill club – INYAFACE
Mixing booming 808s you’d hear in traditional hiphop with sound effects you’d never expect, “INYAFACE” is a song that works out in the best, most unexpected way possible. This track by Fresh-iLL Club’s is smug, laden with bar after bar; a warning to not mess with the collective. Its members sound effortlessly aloof, jaded–it’s as if they’re challenging the opps, “is that really all you’ve got?” “INYAFACE” is a love letter to everyone who came before them the song’s each and every element a clear homage rooted in hours of immersing oneself in alternative rap. Albeit the varying flows and the playful production, the song remains cohesive all throughout; creating harmony out of cacophony is a rare skill only a few can master. — Noelle Alarcon
17. Karbine – Fist Degree
Hardcore band Karbine came up in a city shaped by its own complicated history. Olongapo carries traces of its past everywhere, including a sense of authority that never fully left. Hardcore has never cared for authority, which makes “Fist Degree” hit harder than most tracks that fall under the beatdown umbrella; The riffs grind, the drums hit without apology, and the vocals strip the track of any lingering politeness. Nothing in “Fist Degree” wants you to relax. The song promotes the idea that pressure should be confronted instead of absorbed, which turns every breakdown into a threat that feels earned. Karbine’s approach is loud, metallic, and sometimes messy, but none of it loses direction. “First Degree” works because the band commits to that impulse from start to finish. It makes you brace for impact while reminding you why the genre still matters to its youngest voices. — Elijah P.
16. One Click Straight – Telepono
“Telepono” is the kind of song that coils itself around your routine until you end up humming it without permission. The drums hit like heart-pulse percussion while the exact tempo of kilig sprints up your spine. Lines like “Tulog pa ang mundo / Sumisilip na ang araw sa dilim” land flush against the melody, hitting every beat as if the lyrics were born already synced to the rhythm. Even at its fuzziest, the track remains sharply intentional. The subtle alchemy of the Marquez Brothers always seems to manage to make a song come alive in a way no OPM revival trend could counterfeit. What seals its brilliance is their knack for blending dreamy hooks and gritty sincerity, which gives the track its addictive groove. — Faye Allego
15. zayALLCAPS – MTV’S Pimp My Ride
As much as the title tries to imply, “MTV’s Pimp My Ride” is not about the show itself, but pays attention to the cars that eventually become a metaphor of love. zayALLCAPS’s inviting voice rides over a technicolor cloud R&B beat, swooning with a lot of graceful melodies but also a lot of thoughtful consideration. Singing over a girl and trying so hard to win her over, giving everything of himself and seeing past her guard as a means to spend enough time with her. It’s a fluorescent ballad that uses colorful production to emphasize its yearning sweetness. One that keeps pulling you past that blinding sheen, and into a man’s tender heartbeat. — Louis Pelingen
14. Tatz Maven – Handang Malunod Sa’yo
Nearly two years since we were given a glance at his R&B chops with “Iyak,” Tatz Maven’s “Handang Malunod Sa’yo” showcases the Gen San rapper more in his zone. With songwriting as sharp as his more lyrically focused features and material, though definitely more whetted than his previous R&B attempt, Tatz Maven proves that “Handang Malunod Sa’yo” is not just a spiritual successor, but a sign of his evolution as a songwriter. — Nikolai Dineros
13. 2icey – musty
Rapper 2icey has always played things with a smirk. His music rides the line between sincerity and street-side clowning, and “MUSTY” leans into that instinct with more swagger and bravado. The track moves on Jersey Club jolts that know when to flirt and when to tease, but the core of the song rests in how he treats romance like a joke you still take seriously. The hook rolls in with a cold snap, bouncing on one sense of humor to the other. “MUSTY” uses that tension to stay light on its feet and sound surprisingly catchy. 2icey has made a track made for late nights, half steps, and moments when you want to feel reckless without losing your balance. — Elijah P.
12. Zack Tabudlo – Diving
Despite the swimming conventions in the song’s themes, “Diving” sees Zack Tabuldlo in flight and unshackled, with his wings spread apart the farthest they have ever been. The song is powerful, with a melody that builds up tension for an emotional breakdown in the chorus, but it never crosses overbearing territory. Highly anticipated following his signing with the US-based Mercury Records, “Diving” sees Tabudlo at a critical and exciting point in his creative journey. With better leverage on his back, more tools in his arsenal, and a calling to the R&B sound, the possibilities are endless. — Nikolai Dineros
11. NICKOTINE – BLOW BLOW
Nickotine operates at a pace that feels accidental only on the surface. At 16 years old, the young producer has already bounced across more platforms than most artists twice their age. “BLOW BLOW” works because it captures that restless instinct and turns it into something sharper. The track pushes dance music through a filter of impulsive decisions that somehow land in the right place. There is no overthinking involved, but there is intention behind every bounce. The synths spark, the percussion rolls without pause, and the vocal samples cut through like little flashes of mischief. Nickotine knows that a club track this abrasive will find its people eventually, even if it is through a chaotic algorithm. — Elijah P.
10. Nateman, Lucky – IMMA FLIRT
“IMMA FLIRT,” like RB Slatt’s “Pahna” and Lil JVibe’s “Hips o Thighs” before it, continues the streak of turning the art of interpolation to its perfect form. In wonderfully interpolating “I’m a Flirt” by R. Kelly, Nateman and Lucky’s embody a lot of winks and nudges into their flows, where flirtatious attempts are never treated as a flex, but more so a genuine want to connect. This sincere endearingness is accompanied by hooks and production that are effortlessly slinky and effortless. Extremely addicting to a point where every slip of “IMMA FLIRT” becomes a two-word phrase that you can’t help but stammer. Up to a point where overplay won’t diminish the song, it only makes every word get stamped permanently in your head. — Louis Pelingen
9. Novocrane – FOMF
It has only been a year since debuting from their hometown of Bacolod, and indie rock outfit Novocrane has already taken major strides in many corners of the bigger underground scene. “FOMF” follows through with their signature vibe that can be aptly described as “turn-of-the-millennium grunge,” veiled in lo-fi arrangements that pierce through all emotions with its whimsy. It is the kind of song you play as you strut along the sidewalks on a good day, and a second wind to help you with that “one last push” as you get you through a bad one.
Integrating more electronic elements into their music, one may also see “FOMF” as Novocrane diving headfirst into twee pop territory. In fact, this pivot to twee pop with “FOMF” has already yielded its first result in the form of “Moshpit,” another single the band released late into the year, suggesting that, over time, “FOMF” could be seen as a major precursor (or turning point) to the band’s ever-expanding catalog. But at present, “FOMF” already stands as one of the band’s most consistent material. It is the kind of song you play as you strut along the sidewalks on a good day, and a second wind to help you with that “one last push” as you get you through a bad one. — Nikolai Dineros
8. Your #1 Fan – Radio Transmission
Your #1 Fan (Nica Feliciano) makes her debut with “Radio Transmission,” a soaring space rock ballad fueled by emotional volatility. With every “Radio transmission” and “Satellite to station,” the narrator hurls their deepest insecurities across the void, desperate to know: after traversing that unimaginable distance, “am I still your favorite girl?”
“Radio Transmission” is the cry of absolute vulnerability transmitted across the vast, terrifying silence of separation, peppered with the specific beeps and pulses of man-made communication.
The track encapsulates the unique wonder of a fan-turned-artist, viewing the world through a lens of profound curiosity and cosmic scale. The lyrics quickly blur the lines between the physical distance separating two lovers and our collective smallness within the entire universe. Reduced to a minuscule tethered by Earth’s gravity, the narrator is fixated on the void, restlessly anticipating a crucial signal. The production swells with a grandeur meant to relive the awe of space travel. Tension builds to the moment the signal finally cuts through. In that triumphant moment, the universe contracts, and the smallness vanishes entirely. “Radio Transmission” makes the whole dizzying orbit worth the fear. — Adrian Jade Francisco
7. Gaspari – KODAK BLU
“KODAK BLU” is the defining moment of a producer slowly turning into a rapper in his own right. Gaspari, who has produced for the Greenhouse Records roster, has slowly been turning up features ever since, where his ragged voice becomes an echo that gradually becomes louder. 2025 becomes a prominent year for Gaspari as he begins pushing out singles as a solo artist, proving that he has more to prove for himself. With sir ace laying the foundation of that driving beat – one stacked with fizzy trap percussion, eerie pianos, and dour chimes – Gaspari hulks over on “KODAK BLU,” letting his presence clear as he steers over his enemies. His flow is craggy and understated, but effectively lingers as he spits on posers who are only in the zone for the clout, yet not for growth or money. Never ending up sluggish, so that his bullets end up missing, yet not so flashy as to let his message get overshadowed. While his enemies are playing a profoundly foolish game, Gaspari sleuths in between the cracks, eventually turning everyone’s heads and showing what it really means to push for a successful outcome. — Louis Pelingen
6. adultsundayschool – i hope in my absence you’ll think of me
When a genre built on chaos collides with dense, ethereal soundscapes, the resulting sound is as turbulent as a schizophrenic episode. Coined as “skramgaze,” this unconventional fusion creates an emotional hellfire of turmoil and self-destruction. In “i hope in my absence you’ll think of me,” Davao-based adult sunday school takes us to a claustrophobic atmosphere where desperate, ear-piercing screams are the only medium to reach a distant lover. Drenched with violence and distortion, dueling guitar riffs bridge the rage of metalcore and the uneasiness of shoegaze without the melodic overdrive. The punch of gritty breakdowns and harrowing lyrics writhe in dissonant screeches bellowed directly from a chasm of pain. Within 4 minutes and 26 seconds, adult sunday school encapsulated the misery of longing for someone and purged these heavy feelings to the brim of their sound. When anguish has no outlet, they know well enough to let the noise take over. — Aly Maaño
5. KAIA – Tanga
After years of following the K-pop playbook of bombastic, hard-hitting singles, the girl group KAIA changed course in 2024 with the track “Walang Biruan,” where they embrace bouncy bubblegum bops with colorful melodies and personas. And after a breakthrough year for P-Pop — one in which this kind of vibrant pop music started taking over the musical landscape, KAIA doubled down on this change with “TANGA.”
Don’t let that throw you off, though: the girls are just being playful with it, and it just slides away without you even noticing. On this track, Charice, Angela, Alexa, Sophia, and Charlotte glide gracefully over a bright R&B beat that allows them to effortlessly sing about a love that’s leaving them confused and ignoring their mother’s advice. It’s a smooth little track about being madly in love, and the subtle but biting realness of it all helps the group stand out from the growing number of P-Pop acts today. And they’ve done this with the help, no less, of one Zack Tabudlo, who, after years of being a prolific and reliable force in OPM, has lent his ear for hooks and beats to help KAIA deliver one of 2025’s most irresistible labsongs. Soundtracking your tricky situationship has never felt this groovy. — Gabriel Bagahansol
4. zaniel – C2 NA RED
In less than two minutes, zaniel transforms the possibilities of what Filipino plugg music can sound like. It’s songs like this that remind you how art can be made from literally anything.
With stylistically utilized autotune and a common dilemma among the average Filipino consumer, ‘C2 NA RED!’ immediately became a social media hit that spoke to the hearts of people all over the internet. It’s a track perfectly curated for the TikTok age, its structure straightforward and direct to the point. C2 green tastes horrible, C2 yellow is just okay–zaniel really just wants his C2 NA RED; “sa akin ibigay!” he sings. It repeats once more, sped up and prefaced with expletives to let you hear how much he truly wants it. The track’s dedication to studying the pluggnb playbook executes the tongue-in-cheek element perfectly. A lot goes into crafting the sound of silly dissent, layers upon layers of sound making such a simple idea incredibly catchy and memorable. Emphasis is placed when needed, may it be his floaty adlibs in the background (which can be delightfully crass, at times) or his devastated, warbled wails of “red!” that wane in the background while he describes how much he wants his C2 na red. This is a clever track in jest that also tests the waters of using music as a medium in executing a gimmick. — Noelle Alarcon
Somewhere in the pedal-driven timbre of Cigarettes, Beer, and Stray Cats lies the optimistic uncertainty of being in love for the first time in a while. With half catchy pop melodies and half fuzzy, guitar-driven haze, the track captures the feeling of new love lying in the lingering fear that it will end up like the ones before it. But with cute dates, a few vices to share guilt-free, and, well, cigarettes, beer, and stray cats, maybe that fear can wait for now. It’s this delicate balance that makes this track such a compelling listen.
The performances and songwriting on display here are also worth highlighting. The rhythm guitar sounds fun and jangly, the vocals sound both cheery and wistful, the lead guitar serves the song until it rightfully earns a guitar solo, and all of this rests on a rhythm section that keeps the mood running constantly. tuesday trinkets already shows how solid their band dynamic is this early in their career. Impressively cohesive and unique for a band’s first release, tuesday trinkets’ first single is a promise of something more, a leap of faith into something new and a little scary, but that’s what makes it exciting, isn’t it? — Francine Sundiang
2. Underscores – Music
Underscores – also known as April Harper Grey – has done more than just flicker in the stream of (hyper)pop (hyper)consciousness. The success of Danny Brown’s ascent into hyperpop fixations is in part thanks to his deliberate choice to empower nascent artists who are willing to twist the knife, so to speak.“Copycats,” a collaboration with Grey, is a standout from the album.
With “Music,” Grey makes a declaration of love to the stylistic leanings of her own making, one that is decidedly planted in its anachronisms – of genre, of aesthetics. Yet, as “Music” points out, its displacement of genre is not done out of irony or being tongue-in-cheek, but purely just for the love of it.
The pleasure to believe in music enough to write a song about its own materiality, its own capacity to conjure emotions that soar, is a beautiful thing to behold. To equate that energy with that of an impassioned “you” is near-seismic. Is that what pop music can do? I would say yes! “Music” is a healthy dosage of sonic nitrous that swells and ebbs, making for such an infectious record. It screams optimism towards pop’s future, one that it’s willing to make, and for that to come across without any inherent risk is exciting to say the least. — Lex Celera
Fitterkarma – Pag-ibig ay Kanibalismo II
If love is hunger, cannibalism is hunger stripped of a metaphor. For a band that’s never heard of Ethel Cain, Fitterkarma somehow arrives at the same crossroads of devotion and devouring, proving that carnal desire isn’t an imported aesthetic.
Their defining cut, Pag-ibig At Kanibalismo II, is a walking oxymoron in audio form. It gleams with the shimmering cuteness, emotional swell, and melodic melodrama of J-Pop romance and the earned angst of J-Rock, yet its lyrics culminate the true nature of quintessential OPM pop rock elements: stadium-sized hooks, earnest guitar lines, and romantic urgency that could make you recite a video essay on the film Bones And All. But unlike acts that merely replicate influence, Fitterkarma metabolizes their lyrics into something unmistakably Filipino where emotions don’t just linger, they feast. Sure, love is patient, love is kind, but love is also beautifully inglorious, down to the cartilage and bone. The lyrics’ infamous vow, “Kanibalismo, ‘di ka matiis/ Kapag inalis mo, ika’y mami-miss/ ‘Di nagmamalinis/ Oh, ika’y mami-miss/ ‘Di ka matitiis /Tatlo na sais/ Pag-ibig mong kay tamis” is the emotional hypothesis for desire. It is the acknowledgement that love is sweet until it is salt, warm until it is sweat, gentle until it is teeth. That’s where Fitterkarma turns cannibalism into the most honest metaphor. — Faye Allego
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 version of yourself on this album?
Hazylazy: It had a lot to do with self-doubt. I’m pretty sure some artists would find it really difficult and find themselves having second thoughts, na parang “Dapat ba kineep ko nalang yung older version?” or “Am I overdoing it?” It’s more of a struggle in that sense. I would say it’s that. It’s more of a difficult situation rather than a very fulfilling one. But again after finishing the album it was very fulfilling, at the same time the constant push and pull like, “Will you keep the old version?” or after numerous demos, after months pass I’ll think “Did I over do things?” As a solo artist, there’s no one telling you it’s done. Ikaw lang makakasabi na when it’s done. I don’t have bandmates to say na “Tama na yan, you’re overdoing this”. But yes, it’s more difficult than fulfilling, but it doesn’t mean I’m not fulfilled. It’s more struggle than fun. Constant monologue ‘yon, I’d say.
I only feel when a piece is finished is when I’m really happy to listen to it. I am guilty when I say I listen to my songs.
-Hazylazy
HM: Especially for something as multilayered as Antagonisms, I see the difficulty singlehanded authorship of a work can place on you. It must be so pressuring.
Hazylazy: If I must add to your question earlier, of constant struggle and keeping the past self, the past versions of the songs, I would say the best example there would be “SLEAZE PLEASE”. I really struggled telling myself when the song was done. Talagang nahirapan ako. But the idea of that song is really a two-part which I believe I was able to pull off. It’s a prime example of my struggle. I didn’t know how to finish it. Actually at one point pinakinig ko rin sa live bandmates ko. I feel like during the process of making the whole thing, one thing I had to learn is trusting my own gut? That you have to trust your instinct. And what I had to unlearn was asking for feedback way too much. Because being a solo artist, you kinda feel like there is no one else to give you feedback. Ask yourself first. Kasi mas important talaga what I think versus what some other people might think.
HM: You mentioned tracks like “SLEAZE PLEASE” going through multiple iterations during the creation process. When does a song feel finished to you?
Hazylazy: With “SLEAZE PLEASE”, I really had a hard time with the transition of the first and second part. So I had different versions written down, and I tried out different layouts of sound. There was even one version where the spoken word comes in as a standalone with no background music; to me it felt way too long. Yung mga ganun lang. I only feel when a piece is finished is when I’m really happy to listen to it. I am guilty when I say I listen to my songs.
HM: I feel like there was someone that said—I think it was Donald Glover—“I feel like musicians are the only people that can’t benefit off of their own work.” If you’re a chef, you can make your own food, and then people won’t be like, you’re so mayabang.
Hazylazy: During the process of making the whole album, [I usually critique] my own work [like] “Is there anything I can change?” or “Is the flow correct?” I’m just basically judging myself, for lack of better term. Once I’m really happy to listen to it, I feel like I’m going to enjoy listening to this even if as a different person, if I didn’t do this, if I found this album randomly, would I like it? That’s the perspective I get. As a musician, you’re also a music fan. Taking that perspective, would I also feel, as a listener, that it feels finished? Does it feel complete? I guess the main indicator is just how it feels. Very cliche, but if it feels finished, if I feel satisfied with how it sounds. That’s why I said I’ve been listening to the album back and forth a hundred times now. I know it by heart. It’s only because, and I’m not inflating my ego that I’m listening to my album, it’s more of like, what can I change? What can I do differently? What can I do to make it perfect? I also heard this from [Tyler, the Creator].
HM: Were you at Chromakopia?
Hazylazy: Yes.
HM: I’ll ask you about that after the interview.
Hazylazy: As Tyler said, you really have to edit like a scientist. You make music for yourself. That also means that you’d have to enjoy the things you make. Until I enjoy what I listen to, I would tell myself that it’s complete.
HM: And it must be an extra heft of a reward when you take this project on as a solo artist. That must be something that really makes it worthwhile to be working on this as a solo artist.We were talking about it earlier that getting in your head so much maybe you lose the ability to look outside looking in. When you’re not able to escape from the internal monologue.
Hazylazy:. Honestly, it’s just a bit scary working on it by myself. To me, what I’m about to say doesn’t really mean that making this is about feeling some sort of victory. As a solo artist, I just tell myself sometimes if I fail with this record, there’s no one else to blame but me. It’s also a constant struggle as I have that thought in my head while working on the album. At the end of the day, I’m very happy with what I’ve made.
HM: Is the sole burden, is it more of a pressuring thing? Or do you feel maybe a sort of consolation that ‘’I’m not dragging anyone down with me if I don’t do well’’?
Hazylazy: That’s a good question. It’s both, I would say. There are days that I’d be happy to do this alone because I have full control over my time when it comes to production and creative vision. It’s very singular that I have my vision and I just need to follow through. But at the same time, having no bandmates, it’s not really… You know me. I was in a band. During the time creating this album, na miss ko rin. I missed having bandmates. Maybe in the near future, I would like to make new bands probably because I just miss working with people and having ideas from different brains. Probably in the next few years, I don’t know.
HM: You mentioned “Ultrawanker”, Resentment Segment. That era of yours is a step away from Antagonisms. But many people did start their journey with Hazylazy during the Resentment Segment era. I remember watching you early days of the pandemic. I think one year into the pandemic, I remember watching MechaFest 2021.You were performing some of those songs.
Hazylazy: That’s when I premiered “Another Self-Loathing”
HM: I went back to the recording because it’s on YouTube. With [Elev8 Me L8r]. But yeah.There’s a link there. I would describe these words to form a sort of vocabulary of disillusionment. A modern disillusionment.
Hazylazy: You’re right. Lyrically or thematically, the EP shares the same characteristics with the album. Themes of burnout, themes of self-doubt, trust issues, questioning one’s faith. The same themes, basically. But I would say Antagonisms is a more evolved concept. It’s more introspective, I would say.
After finishing the album it was very fulfilling, at the same time the constant push and pull like, “Will you keep the old version?” or after numerous demos, after months pass I’ll think “Did I over do things?”
-Hazylazy
HM: Absolutely. There’s something to say about it. I don’t know if it’s intentional, but there’s a spectrum between resentment and antagonism where resenting is more of an internal act and antagonizing is sort of external. Is the link between the two thematic titles anything you had in mind while you were building the new album?
Hazylazy: I never thought of it that way, but that’s a good catch. Thinking about it, looking back at the EP, you’re right. You’re probably right. The lyrics there would be a bit more inward. Antagonism is more of outward. It involves being selfish and not really caring about what other people think. Some songs could pass off as internal monologue, yeah, but with Antagonisms, it’s more outward when it comes to how it’s written.
HM: How was the creative journey like between those two points in time? And also, with respect to your musical trajectory, what was the creative journey like?
Hazylazy: There was a time that I told myself that I wouldn’t be making music as Hazylazy anymore after Resentment Segment. I just didn’t want to go for it anymore. I’m done with music. I told [my friends] that “Ayoko na, I don’t want to make another EP.” What made me decide that I still want to make an album. The time frame between the EP and the album, it was a constant push and pull. Do I do this? Do I do that? Self-doubting because you’re alone. When I started telling myself when I decided that I’m going to make this album, I really dug deep into my influences at that time. I asked myself what do I want to make? That’s when I decided that I really want to innovate the previous sound. What can I do to create something very original to what Hazylazy is? I’ve been thankful with the amount of music that I’ve been discovering for that time frame. It was a big influence on the music of Antagonisms. It’s funny because the artists that I’ve listened to during that time frame were not even close to indie rock or rock. I became an addict to Tyler, Frank Ocean, New Jeans. That’s why there were those kind of cuts like “OUTFIELD”, the second half of “SLEAZE PLEASE”. It was very much inspired by some of the artists that I’ve been listening to around that time.
As soon as [an idea] pops in your head, just throw it in there and see if it works up until the next day, up until the next week, the next month. Does it still work? That’s one of the principles that I prioritize. Just do it. There’s no cost to being original.
-Hazylazy
HM: You’d say your influences for the album were more… were not explicitly rock or electronic in that sort of area?
Hazylazy: I would say still, a major chunk of it but I feel like the few artists that had a very strong grip on me made its way through the music that I made. New Jeans, Frank Ocean, Tyler. Not necessarily how they sound, but the very principles that they apply to their music is what I’m following.
HM: And on your discoveries about yourself and the Hazylazy principles, do you feel you’ve come to any new revelations along the way to Antagonisms?
Hazylazy: Yeah. One of the best learnings while making this record is just to really… There’s a quote that Tyler said that resonated with me. It just connects to the one I said earlier. He said “create like a child, edit like a scientist.” I keep that to my heart really closely. Especially creating like a child part. One thing I did most during the creation of this album is creating like a child. Just throw in everything. Whatever the idea is, just throw it in. Quickly. As soon as it pops in your head, just throw it in there and see if it works up until the next day, up until the next week, the next month. Does it still work? That’s one of the principles that I prioritize. Just do it. There’s no cost to being original.
HM: The parallel kind of writes itself with what you’ve talked about Antagonisms to be already. I guess it’s not self-serving, but it’s for the self.More about the antagonizing aspect of antagonisms. I wanted to know how you wanted listeners to align. How you wanted them to align themselves to the album. What did you want them to glean from it?
Hazylazy: I’d be more curious to know how they see it. That’s why I was pleased with your observation earlier with inward and outward for receptance, argument, and antagonism. Honestly, there’s no one correct way to look at it. To me, once I have it out there, it’s for everyone to listen to and how they see it. To me, I just want to put a record that I’m happy with and that sounds good, that’s original, that’s never been heard of anywhere, sound-wise. I guess, to everyone who’s going to be reading the article or whatever, I would like to know what they think to all the listeners out there.
HM: Sound-wise, I want to take a break from talking about the album and go back in time into your journey musically. If that’s okay. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe crowds first heard your work as Serotonin, a six-piece band from Laguna, self-described on your SoundCloud bio to be “a disappointing multi-layered experience.”I don’t know if that’s updated or not.
Hazylazy: It’s outdated. We were kids and trying to come up with funny descriptions. But yeah, that description, because we have three guitars.
HM: I was going to say, 2016 era is when you started posting your stuff to those music-sharing platforms.But when did you start making music? Did you start 2016 as well?
Hazylazy: Well, as an individual, I’ve been playing with instruments ever since I was 10. Starting with the drums and then eventually guitar. I never really sang up until 2016. But the reason why I started to sing is because the original vocalist of Serotonin left, transferred to another school. I was the original drummer. I was writing the songs back then as a drummer. And then when our original vocalist left, that’s when I went for the vocalist position and guitar as a songwriter. That’s when I met the rest of the band. That’s when we released the songs.
HM: What’s so interesting about Serotonin is that I feel it was very much a product of its time. Starting from 2016, I think, I don’t know, when you guys started releasing music, it really perfectly fit into the zeitgeist of Pinoy Indie post-rock bands. Like the band ensemble outfits from the time. Very much employing the traditional rock band toolkit over programmed instrumentation. I wanted to ask then, how did being in a band inform your later sensibilities on collaboration versus solo endeavors? And on music as a whole. I wonder what being in a band as your first musical pursuit, as you said, did to alter, to rewire your brain musically?
Hazylazy: Well, honestly, being in a band is super fun in itself. Back then, I just wanted, starting Hazylazy, I just really wanted an outlet where I can just do whatever I want. All the ideas that I want, that’s what’s followed. I just wanted another avenue where I can just do whatever the fuck I want. So that’s basically it. That’s how I would differentiate it. I like it when there’s a band or bandmates. I really like bouncing off ideas. But I also enjoy equally being able to follow through with what’s in my head. The fulfillment of being able to make it tangible and actualizing it in song form.
HM: Do you feel that you’ve always been able to accomplish that translation into a listenable track that’s out there? Or do you feel you’ve developed that through the years and with recent releases like Resentment Segment, Antagonisms, you’ve been able to get to that point that this is exactly what you imagined in your head for it to be.
Hazylazy: It’s one of the hard parts of writing for me. Knowing that this is what I really envisioned. I’m glad to say it’s a skill that I’ve learned over the years. At first, it wasn’t really like that. But I feel confident when I say that when I have this creative vision, I already know exactly how I want it to sound like. And being able to translate that into a song, it feels good. Honestly. I would say it wasn’t like that at first, but now, over the years of trial and error, a lot of setbacks, not being satisfied with some of the demos, finding the right sweet spot. It takes time to have that coherence with your vision and the actual piece, right? It’s not instant, I can say. Some songs, fun fact, “Juxtapose” was written in one sitting. And that was one of the very, very, very, I would say, like a blessing to me because some songs would just like churn out, the songs that would churn out, sometimes you would just get super lucky that after doing it in one sitting, you’re satisfied. And some songs would do that. I’m not sure if it’s like that in the album, but I’ll have to get back to you on that. But yeah, it’s not always instant, but there are songs that are really like magic.
HM: SoundCloud, by the way, like a really, really in-depth archive of your transformation as an artist. And I don’t know, I feel, but somehow I feel that, you know, going through your different genres, different outfits with Serotonin, with early Hazylazy, like tracks like “Wordless”, “False Romantic”, “Quicksand”.The time when you had, what’s it called? It’s like logo.
Hazylazy: Yeah. Yeah.
HM: But I was just going to say I feel that even in that, there was this sort of like, ephemeral quality that peeked through. Like not even like Hazylazy, like back in Serotonin, that I felt. And I wonder where that comes from.
I have personal favorite tracks from Serotonin. “She Was”, “Backpacker”.
Hazylazy: Yeah. Oh my God.
HM: Yeah. And I just noticed that there are like atmospheric elements, not that atmospheric, but like elements, textures that you wouldn’t normally see in those sort of like traditional band toolkit setups that you still added into like the studio mix. Same with like “Wordless”.There’s still an electronic ephemera that comes through. And I feel like it really breaks out of a shell and becomes the entirety of, like really develops the sound later in later projects, starting in Resentment Segment.And I just wonder if that came from something, or if like there was something that was always there that inspired you to take that sort of slant, that sort of angle with music production?
Hazylazy: Maybe, not exactly an artist that I’m following. It’s not exactly a sound that I’m trying to go for. But I guess one thing I would say that’s constant ever since. I l always try to make, I always try to find something to make it feel different from what’s currently out there. And like, you know, that’s just my approach. There are musicians out that really hit the bullseye on certain genres. Like some rock bands can pull off the rock sound really, really well and stay through to the genre. And I would say I’m just not that type of musician. I can’t perfect the indie rock sound. I can’t perfect the rock sound. Let me just go on and try to make something different now. And it’s always been the clear reason why I’m still doing Hazylazy. It’s because I really want to find that original sound. So for example, I started a solo project because I’ve been inspired by the solo artists back in 2018, 2019, like Mac DeMarco, Tame Impala. I’ve been inspired with how they’re able to sound like a band, even if they’re solo. They sound different, they sound so original. So I’ve always been in that journey. And I know I’m not there yet, but it’s always been one of my biggest goals. I don’t have to sell out shows. I don’t have to earn a lot of streams. I just feel like I really need to find that original sound. It’s always been like that ever since. That’s why there are elements here and there. That’s very deliberate. I would say it’s a conscious choice to put it there just to have a different feel to it. Just so it doesn’t sound like anything else that’s out there. Because the last thing I want is sounding completely similar to an existing band.
HM: Yeah, where you’d be like, “Oh, you’re like the blah, blah, blah of Manila.”
Hazylazy: Sometimes it’s a fun opener or a fun line to a conversation. But again, if it’s a serious conversation, you just know if a track’s a Hazylazy track. Something like that. It’s the goal. I’m not quite sure if I’m there already or if I’m close, but it’s always been one of the biggest goals.
[The album cover is] very much alike with being a child, where you just don’t really care about the external things. You’re just in there. You’re just in the moment. You’re just creating without any second thoughts.
-Hazylazy
HM: Zooming out and looking at actually the key visuals you put out with your visual artist, Nicolas Salva Cruz, “Cola”. I wanted to know how that collaboration came about because honestly, I first saw the covers for Dreamweaver and the singles you put out leading to the album and I was like, wow, such an interesting album cover. Is that like The Sims or something? So yeah, I wanted to know. Even with Antagonism’s cover, zooming into the pieces, there’s a key visual for each song. Is that right?
Hazylazy: Some of the art that we’ve decided to put there kind of ties closely to the songs but it wasn’t really the main vision at the start. So it’s just a tiny coincidence.
Cola is a really cool guy. He’s super great to work with. Honestly, I saw Cola’s work when I saw Kindred’s album art and also when he made the music video for Toots, Jargon State. But I’ve known Cola from around the scene because I know Cola’s girlfriend, Tamia, way back in college. So I knew Cola in passing. So I just didn’t know that he made 3D art. And honestly, when I was thinking about how to do the album cover, I had this Pinterest board of what I wanted to do. And honestly, at first… My main vision for the album art was supposed to be… It should just be a picture. It should just be a picture. But because of time constraints, I didn’t have time to photoshoot. That’s all that happened. I didn’t have the budget to photoshoot. I didn’t have time. I don’t even want to be in the album art. I just wanted a random picture. A very eye-catching one. That would have aligned with the pegs on my mood board. But for some reason, there were suggestions on Pinterest for 3D, cool 3D art. That’s when I thought, Oh, Cola might be perfect for this. It was a cold message. That’s when I met Cola. We’ve met before at gigs. But that’s just one time. One time or two times. Then I cold messaged Cola. Are you down to do the album art? He’s a super nice guy. The collaboration. We became close friends because of this. We were always on call. But it’s been really fun. The main idea at first is to roll out the singles leading up to the album art. We made characters that would eventually appear in the album art. We decided to do a solid background first. So it’s more in-your-face. The main idea with Cola, I just wanted to feel that the album art looks how it sounds like. That was our goal. We have a base idea of 3D art. Now what can we do to elevate it or make it look how it sounds like? We added the glitch. We added some of the blur. We added the 8-bit. Because there are those elements in the sounds. We wanted to play on the childish characteristics that you can see there. Running around with dogs. Playing by the trampoline. Being curious. To me, the main idea with Antagonisms is more than being selfish. That’s very much alike with being a child, where you just don’t really care about the external things. You’re just in there. You’re just in the moment. You’re just creating without any second thoughts.
HM: Do visual and other sensory elements besides aural come to you as you create your music? Do you see a song?
Hazylazy: When it comes to creating the music, I don’t have other sensory pursuits. But I’d say when producers say different textures to the sonics, I guess that would be it. But that’s still in the hearing.
HM: You definitely have a knack for building lush soundscapes with your music. How would you approach molding the acoustic environment of a track? Because although it’s not intentionally a multi-sensory experience, it definitely is like, wow. It feels like 8D.How do you decide to fill a sound?
Hazylazy: What comes to mind while creating that sound, while creating that song, while producing the song, I just put it in there. It doesn’t have a deep, it doesn’t have a deep meaning. Some ideas that I put there in the album, as in, what’s the right word? As in, like, suddenly, I would say. For example, in “LOUDMOUTH”, the sample there, the beginning sample. I was watching an Alex G live video from YouTube. So that quick talking sample, that was from that video. But that’s because I wanted to sample Alex G. But I ended up sampling the people speaking. And for some reason, the last word he said fit in the sample, “get back”. So I used it for the song. So most of the approach here is like, it just happened out of the blue. And I think it takes a lot of skill to catch that, and to latch on to that, and to say that it’s a good idea. It’s not just random. But I feel like, I can tell myself that I’m lucky, that the idea found its way to me. But I also take myself, being able to catch that, and use those ideas. In fact, a lot of the songs here have samples. And some of these are, as in, it just suddenly came to me.Sometimes while I’m sleeping, or when I’m about to sleep, I would get up from bed, because I was thinking, I just have to write it down. Yeah, there are a lot of those. Believe it or not, the siren things you hear in Loudmouth, that’s from a Pussycat Dolls song. So there are a lot of samples there that really found its way to the tracks, that I really enjoyed creating. But one more, one more I’d like to share. “SLEAZE PLEASE” the lead part. That is from a Beach Boys song.
HM: Oh my God!
Hazylazy: Yeah, so there are a lot. It’s been really fun. I think one of the major instruments that changed the trajectory of the production style of Hazylazy in general, is because of a sampler. In the Resentment Segment, there were no abstract arrangements, none of that quality, but that’s because I didn’t have my sampler then. Now, I’ve purchased one and I’m thankful. Such an ROI, yeah, I would say.
HM: There’s something so boundless about music creation in a post-digital, post-internet era. So I want to ask, how do you plan to translate this sound and concept into a live performance?Is the goal more like a faithful reproduction, or is it embracing reinterpretation through the analog?
Hazylazy: Honestly, at first, while creating the album, I was thinking, how am I going to do this live? Especially with the electronic cuts. I’m so thankful with my live bandmates because we were able to work on the songs and translate it well live, I would say. We’ve tried it out last weekend. And I feel like that’s the magic of Hazylazy shows. You get a different Hazylazy live, and it’s a more powerful experience, I would say, since it’s louder, it’s more compact. Every bandmate just has something to offer skill-wise. I embrace interpretation—but not too far. There are some elements I’d like to keep alive, like some samples that I’d love to keep alive. I guess they’ll see that in the album launch.
HM: I wonder, you’ve been performing since pre-pandemic. I hate saying the word pandemic. It’s a turning point event, and I feel it’s very important to our recent music history.Recent happenings in music. You’ve performed in pre-pandemic venues, like Route 196. I wonder how you would compare gig culture pre-2020s to today, which is a heavily hyper-internet, hyper-digital setting, where everyone has an electronic setup in their sets.People can play samples from their songs, like click tracks and everything. Any particular transformations you’ve observed in the space, and maybe in yourself as a gig-goer, and now with Elev8 Me L8r, an organizer, and sort of creator of the gig, propagator of the gig.
Hazylazy: I admire the evolution from 2019-2018 era to how the music scene is now. Technologically, yes, you’re right. We’ve really evolved. Honestly, way back then, when I used to play Saguijo or Route 196, that’s one of the things I’ve been looking for. How do I make this possible? Way back then, before the pandemic, there were Hazylazy sets. I was always thinking about how do I do the backing track? It wasn’t that accessible. It’s just really hard to communicate in venues. Not really hard, I would say. It’s just not usual. It’s just unusual to communicate. At least, from my experience. I’m pretty sure the other pros out there were already doing that. But me, I don’t have experience with it. I just couldn’t take the first step. But now, well, at least most, where I’m always playing, I’m just thankful that their team, Jude, are very accommodating with these kinds of setups. It really allowed me to feel that what I envisioned my live sets to be is possible—not to say that it wasn’t possible before—I guess venues are more open to it now. I just really admire the evolution. Hyper-digital, as you said. I would say it’s really changed. While back then, social media was already a thing. That’s where you promote your stuff. It needs to be more rapid nowadays. And I’m afraid I’m getting too old to keep up with how rapid everything’s going. With TikTok and everything.
HM: But to give credit where credit is due, I do feel you and the rest of Elev8 were a present and very active community presence during the shift from online to offline. I remember one of the earliest gigs, I feel, coming back IRL gigs. It was Shoplifters United at Motorista back in 2022. You were sessioning for (formerly Maryknoll) back then.
Hazylazy: Yeah, the gigs started after that. I feel like we just really wanted to harp on that momentum coming from the online shows that we’ve been doing as Elev8. Like how we try to innovate online live shows. Back then, we tried to apply that same principle in our live shows. Try to do something different. But yeah, you’re right. We were active. But as Hazy Lazy alone, it’s pretty hard. It’s hard to keep up. Baka naging tito lang ako.
HM: But yeah, I mean, definitely, I feel what’s made, what’s colored this era of gigs is how very post-internet it is. Especially with entities like Elev8 that existed from, was born from the internet. That’s their nesting ground.Yeah. Do you feel that it’s a change for the better? Are you excited looking forward to further evolutions of music and gig culture?Are you going to be there for the ride?
Hazylazy: Yeah, for sure. I’d be happy to see it. We can’t really predict that I’d be present-present. But I’m pretty sure I’d be watching from afar if ever, if ever it happens. I take a break from music. For the future.
HM: Don’t.
Hazylazy: [laughs]But like, I’d be happy to see the local scene evolve. I’m sure we have the, we have a very good foundation right now. Like, we have the right formula to bring us forward, I would say. And they’re also young. Yeah. The young people, they’re so good and very smart with their promotions, I would say.
HM: Okay. What’s next in store for, maybe not even just Hazylazy. Are we gonna see a comeback of Report Error, Serotonin?
Hazylazy: Ooh, that’s a deep cut. Honestly, okay, I miss the band. I miss the boys. I hope we can link up. Link up? Yeah. But, we’re still getting along. Our relationship is still good. We still treat each other as like…
HM: Yeah, I think the last gig wasn’t too long ago.
Hazylazy: Yeah. But we never got to be complete due to personal stuff then. Every band member is doing their own thing. Super proud of them. But yeah, Report Error, probably. Let’s see. I still have the energy. But right now, all I’m thinking about when it comes to what’s next, after the album launch, maybe just take that quick vacation or reward myself with like, you know, video games and travel, probably. But like, Yay! But like, personal life first. If I ever felt like there’s a strong urge within me to write another record, then why not, right? But we’re not sure. We don’t know that yet. We don’t know when. We don’t know how it will sound like. But pretty sure if there’s another Hazylazy record, it’s not gonna be a duplicate of Antagonisms. It’s always gonna be different. Every time. Something different. At least, not exactly the same, but I will always try to make something different.
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.
I was listening to lots of love songs. Love songs ng Japan, mga J-pop, J-rock. And grabe sila magsulat ng love songs. Kung i-translate mo ito English, ang ganda ng translation. Sobrang poetic, sobrang I don’t know, like they’d literally die for you.
-Joao, fitterkarma
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 ko dun sa songwriting ko. Some of the songs sa album was intended for the thesis. So dahil thesis siya, nag-isip ako ng concept. Gawain ko kasi make something original, especially sa music. I gather influences from different sources. I think of it like a cocktail. So if you combine like alcohol and soft drinks sa isang drink, you get a new drink, diba? And ayun, pinagsama ko dahil medyo inspire din sa culture ng natin sa Pilipinas. Kasi music natin puro maraming love songs, maraming hugot. Kahit may times na nagkasawa tayo, may nagkakaroon ng time na uuwi parin tayo sa love songs. And then there’s this, you know, the Filipino folklore that we all know na puro aswang, puro mga manananggal and witchcraft. Sinubukan ko ipagsama into one like horror and romance. Like there’s always this horror movie na may love interest sa loob. Tapos meron din naman on the disturbing side ng mga love stories na may horror elements bigla na magpapatayan sila bigla. And then the one thing na I thought, which ano bang nagkocombine ng love tsaka horror into one action? Naisip ko lang ah! cannibalism lang! Kasi around that time I’ve been watching too many disturbing movies din. And then at the same time, I was listening to lots of love songs. Love songs ng Japan, mga J-pop, J-rock. And grabe sila magsulat ng love songs. Kung i-translate mo ito English, ang ganda ng translation. Sobrang poetic, sobrang I don’t know, like they’d literally die for you.
Elijah: That’s really one good way to put it. The J-rock element to your songs, sometimes melodrama could get in the way, but that’s the whole point of a love song. You can get really melodramatic and at the same time, there’s some poetry to this melodrama. And that to me is what sticks out in the whole project as a band. Because I’ve noticed, I mean I’ve been, I’ve had friends in Benilde for I guess more than half a decade now. And observing these different kinds of generations of Benilde, like CSB musicians. They have this history of brimming talent. Sila Obese.Dogma.777, si no rome, Manila Magic, ena mori, Loner.
And now yung bagong henerasyon ng mga Benilde musicians din. Like say, yung mga co-bands nyo, yung mga ibang bands nyo, being the next generation. How do you guys manage to stick out thematically, concept-wise, within that circle?
Joao: When it comes to creating for ourselves. We, ano lang, sarili lang talaga namin yung iniisip namin, like for us yung kung paano namin conceptually sarili namin, di namin isipin din yung sasabihin ng tao. Basta sa tingin namin, oh this is cool, so gawin natin, yun lang.
Elijah: Yeah, that’s really very admirable to hear because I’d like to ask your other bandmates, what’s it like to balance different projects?
Calvin: I guess when it comes to balancing lang, really whichever just feels right at the moment. So, like for example ngayon, I wanna focus on Fitter right now na parang, wala, that’s how it is. Kasi everyone’s active, everyone’s like pushing right now. Especially with,yung small success ng Cannibalism part 2 and things like that. And like yung minention ni Joe na may we’re trying to finish the album. So, syempre yun yung priority. Di naman siya necessarily competing in terms of like the creative juices. Kasi like it’s nice to have another outlet din para iwas sa burnout. Yung naging hectic lang yung schedules pag nagbabangaan yung mga skeds.
Addy: Well, for me kasi I’m very into different things, it’s like a wide range of genres. And I find it very fulfilling that I get an outlet for those different genres. So, for example, for theatre, it’s a lot of more rock stuff and a lot of heavier stuff relatively. And then I also have another outlet where it’s more like we’re very 70s, 60s influenced. And it doesn’t make it hard to balance the two because they’re just really different from each other. I find it nice to be able to express those different interests of mine. But of course, my priority is always Fitterkarma.
Ders: If may nagtatanong sakin na artist if I’m available to play, I always check my schedule muna if pasok siya sa schedule ko. Like, manage ko talaga siya one by one. And if it’s feasible, sure, I’m down. And agree din ako sa sinabi ni Addy kanina na priority nga is Fitterkarma. Same rin sakin kasi Fitterkarma is my first ever band.
Soph: Aside from na sinabi niya na to have his schedule right, is knowing kuha may nag-offer saka ng session, knowing what the genre is, and if magugustuhan ko ba siya or parang hindi ko mabibigay yung best. So tatanggihan ko po ganun. Kasi parang I would like to treat that art of theirs na talagang mapaperform ko well, so aside from scheduling is knowing that kung kakayanin ko yung work. And same din sa Fitter. Usually pag may mga collaborations, lahat kami naman mag-input, what if ganito, what if ganyan. So I think meron naman kaming creative direction. Kaya naging ganun yung mga outputs ng song namin.
Elijah: I think Sof mentioned na you’re based in Houston specifically. How does it work out adjusting creatively? How do you guys communicate?
Joao:Feeling ko parang di rin naman kami nag-adjust that much kasi our process kahit naman sa Philippines pa ako madalas. I mean, like, most of the year. Our process kasi [is] I write the songs from my room or on my own. I do the arrangements, structure na song. I record the demo and then I send it to them. And yan. Doon na mangyayari magic. And hindi rin kami like strict sa time zone kasi anytime, kahit anong oras basta libre ako. Or kahit kung anong oras man ako makahanap ng time. Kahit ungodly hour or kahit early morning or during the afternoon. Basta ma-feel ko yung urge to create, gagawin ko.
Elijah:Actually, nadiscover ko kayo last year January sa Rabbit Hole ato yun. Oh yeah. At doon si Ellyphant, she took pictures of you guys.
Joao: Oh yeah, I remember. Yeah, yeah.
Elijah:Actually, Elly and I were talking like, nireko niya saan yung, aside from you guys sila, Iluna sa lineup na yun. I think it was a birthday. Yeah, if I remember correctly, birthday gig ato yun tapos..
Joao:Yeah. Claire, yes. Oh yeah.
Elijah:And siguro after that parang sinubaybay ko na kayo sa social media noong meron pa kayong isa pang gig na parang Karma Hits back pa. Sa Kalapastangan na EP launch. And right now, this year, siguro nire-release niyo yung Kannibalismo noong February. Tapos nag-pick up siya noong Steam noong April.
I just like to know ano yung mga reaction niyo sa mga memes? Kasi sobrang lakas niyo sa music memes.
Joao:Ako natatawa ko sa reaction nila. Kasi while I was writing this song, I didn’t think na magiging ganun reaction ng tao. Like when I was writing it in this very room where I am right now, nakala ko like same sa magiging reaction ng mga professor namin na baka magiging weird siya. Kasi yung lyrics ko palang dun like sobrang brutal. Yung inodobo mo yung tao. So actually, I was just writing it for fun.
Yung sa reaction ng tao, tinanggap nila. Hindi sila nagweirduhan sa amin. Medyo ano rin, like prior releasing the song din kasi yung mga friends namin, kating-kating sila amin na i-release namin yung song. Kasi pinakinggan nila sa Google Drive. Na-LSS na sila lahat. Tapos di pa namin re-release. Dahil kinukulit kami doon din ako nagkaroon ng lakas sa loob na i-release siya.
It’s a nice new world to enter when we expose things to each other
-Addy, fitterkarma
Elijah:For Addy, what’s it like to take vocal duties on that track?
Addy:Actually, when Joao first told me that he wrote the song with me singing it in mind, I was a bit excited then to see how I can put myself into his writing. And like me, I joined the band not as a singer, even though I do sing. So, I was really excited to have that opportunity to do that for the band.
And yeah, I think Calvin was saying something related.
Joao:I forgot to mention kanina kasi and sasabihin ko nalang dito kasi feel ko ito yung timing para masabi. Tawa ko sa mga, nababasa ko yung mga fan theories. Well, una na surprise ako nagkura ko may fans because of memes. And nagkakaroon sila yung theories regarding na tawa kami ng tawa, buong banda dito. Well, tuwa din kami. Kasi they were starting theorizing na the song was inspired by.. Ano yan? Sino yan?
Elijah:Isn’t it like the movie,“Bones and All”?
Joao: Yeah, and yung Yellowjackets and yung Ethel Cain? Like guess what man? Di namin kilala lahat ng yan. None of us know those stuff, those songs. Meron din nag-comment sa YouTube na sabi niya, na-realize daw niya na inspired by yung Ethel Cain. Tapos tawa ako ng tawa. I don’t even know that, dude. Pero we took it lightly. Natuwanan din kami kasi yun pala yung nagagawa ng music sa tao. Yung may kanya-kanya silang interpretation sa gawa mo. We welcome that. We’re very open to that. At least dahil doon may natutunan din kami from other people. Like may ganito pala, may series pala, may ganito. Actually, binalak din namin panoorin ng paking ganyan. Di pa yata namin nagagawa. Ako di ko pa nagagawa. Ewan ko sa kanila.
Dati wala nga kaming mga screamo na arrangement noon. Tapos lately meron tayong mga screamo na in-incorporate sa mga songs which is natutuwa din ako kasi everyone of us is eager to learn.
-Soph, fitterkarma
Elijah:Amazing job on that, by the way. Parang doon mas, I guess, nag-widen yung scope yung band. When everyone else just contributes, not just a non-singer or like a singer-keyboardist, everyone else, there’s like this synergy that’s existing. And glad to see how growth just sort of like innately exists in every band, in every step of the way. Siguro, a question for you, Joao. Anong film score that you wish you did?
Joao:Yung All Quiet on the Western Front. I loved how they used electronic music on a film na, anong tawag doon? Sa unang panahon yung setting, ganun. And it worked. So, yeah, sobrang solid nun. And especially yung message nung song. Ay, song nung film. It’s an anti-war film. It’s not those sugar-coated Hollywood films na sobrang Americanized. Yan talaga sobrang straightforward anti-war. Wala kang inapakabala sa gyera. Ito lang. So, yan. Yung message nung film, the same score. Dinala yan rin sobra.
Elijah: How do you guys define Fitterkarma as the band where you guys combine pop elements, metal elements? So how do you sort of define that as a whole with all these genres?
Joao:Siguro best way to define it is lahat ng gusto namin gawin, ginagawa namin sa music namin. Anything that inspires us, na mag-inspire sa amin, gumawa rin, gagawin namin. Kahit pop man yan, metal, classical music, film scoring. Kasi doon magsisimula yung mga magagandang output siguro pag di mo pinipigilan sarili mo or di mo kine-cage sarili mo. Recently, on loop sa akin mga album ni Bad Bunny. Tapos kinabukasan, black metal lamang papahingaan ko. Tapos kinabukasan, j-rock. Tapos kinabukasan, soundtracks ng films And then makikinigaw ko ng mga songs for the piano, yung mga Bach.
Iba-iba. Tapos ganoon din natin yung set sila. I think Soph loves Shoegaze.
Kaya ano ba yung mga trip ni Music? Halo-halo din eh kami. So yeah, minsan Radiohead, men, uuwi ako sa Radiohead. Jeff Buckley, yung 90s. Bjork. I love Bjork so much. Especially yung isang recent album niya na biglang nagbudots. Sobrang solid. Never expected Bjork to do that.
Ders: Sinabi din na madami kaming genres in mind and tinutugtugan ng genres. So, balak namin na ipag-combine lahat since nasabi nga ni Joao noon na gusto din maging experiment yung band. And it turned out well naman. And yeah, I think that’s it.
Addy:I think it’s really just finding something that we all agree on. Since we all have different influences, then we can share those influences with others. Like me, I was exposed to a lot more music because of joining FitterKarma, because of Joao, because of Calvin and stuff. And it’s a nice new world to enter when we expose things to each other.
As a songwriter, I listen to music as a listener. I listen to music without minding the genres. Kung ano lang yung ma-enjoy ko, yun lang. Yun lang yung papakinggan ko. Susundan lang kami sa puso namin.
-Joao, fitterkarma
Soph: Last siguro is Fitter Karma is, parang for me, it’s so special na pag pinagsama-sama mo yung mga tinutugtog namin since iba-iba mga subjects namen. And meron din kaming subjects sa college noon na parang ensemble which we can perform a lot of genres. Sige natin, jazz. Pero we end up here na we like to touch the experimental side of music. Dati wala nga kaming mga screamo na arrangement noon. Tapos lately meron tayong mga screamo na in-incorporate sa mga songs which is natutuwa din ako kasi everyone of us is eager to learn. And siguro nandun talaga yung parang collaborative spirit namin kaya hindi kami nahihirapan mag-adjust sa mga new additions dun sa mga ginagawa namin songs.
Ayun lang, parang more of collaborative talaga.
Joao: And to add din, ang ganda rin sa reaction ng audience or ng tao whenever you’re being unpredictable in terms sa music mo. I remember watching Radwimps noong tumugtog sila sa Araneta. I think a lot of people went there, alam lang nila yung sa soundtrack sa Your Name and Weathering With You. Tapos ako, I came there, I’m aware of their discography. Marami silang genre, they rap, they pop, they do pop, they do metal as well. Typical J-pop, J-rock experiment na akong kulit. Tapos biglang yung mga katabi ko dun kasi nasa Gen Ad lang ako so feel ko iba nung nanood lang for the vibe. And then gulat na gulat sila nag-metal na yung Radwimps, biglang nag-rap, biglang mag-reggae next song. Ang kulit. I like that vibe na being unpredictable and hindi rin siya nakakaumay. Me, myself, as a songwriter, and me playing music kasi I listen to music as a listener. I listen to music without minding the genres. Kung ano lang yung ma-enjoy ko, yun lang. Yun lang yung papakinggan ko. Susundan lang kami sa puso namin.
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.
