Written by Louis Pelingen With the news of BINI breaking new grounds on the Billboard charts and eventually dethroning Ben&Ben on Spotify in terms of being the most streamed OPM group in around 2 years, it showcases a grand successful milestone not just for BINI themselves, but for the P-pop scene in general: a hurrah for a lot of P-pop and K-pop fans where they celebrated the return of Bubblegum Pop in the mainstream local scene given the acoustic folk-pop chart dominance for a long time now. Although the Bubblegum Pop sound has been boiling in the local indie spotlights if you know where to look, there is still value to be had towards this groundbreaking success of BINI as it gives a fresh coat of paint to the local mainstream music scene right now. This all leads to the first EP of BINI, Talaarawan. To start, the performances and the melodies have a solid foundation throughout the EP, allowing the collection of cheery P-pop songs to feel vibrant and well-composed. The performances naturally carry off the loose and charming tones that are not just embedded into the hook-driven melodies, but also the writing and instrumentation that also surrounds them. While they do stumble a bit whenever they break out on the rap verses, they do at least manage to keep up the upward optimism that remains quite infectious. However, for an EP that is described to encapture the breadth of emotions and stages of life and love, that essential idea starts falling apart really quickly with a few glaring issues that sadly overshadow the melodies and the performances. The lyricism, despite the passing metaphors that differ from song to song, does not have enough intriguing flair to go alongside it. As it immediately goes into romantic platitudes where the sense of yearning and empowerment blurs into one another, Talaarawan lacks any detail that can open up the emotional depth of the writing, making it less special. Besides the writing, a lot of these songs still carry the same mixing issues as the previous BINI projects, where cuts like “Karera” go a bit too loud in the mix, “Pantropiko” and “Na Na Nandito Lang” having similar loud mixes and then some, and the inconsistent vocal fidelities that create a big distraction on those two songs. But this all rolls into the big frustration of this EP: the production. From the general synthetic instrumentation to the stiff and dated production choices, they never really allow the melodies to properly pop off and the vocal harmonies to be as stellar as they need to be, eventually taking away the brisk vibes that these cuts are going for, especially on “Pantropik” where the synthetic textures completely blemish the summery tone of that song. However, there are still moments of passing quality that BINI still pulls through: The effortless opener of “Karera” where the performances just go off amid the decently bubbly beat; the melodic glimmer on “Salamin, Salamin” remaining really sticky even despite the bass rhythms getting a bit janky on that song; and “Diyan Ka Lang’” that closes off the EP on a good note with enough remarkable synth lines that blend well with the retro-inspired drums. Even with all of that, there is a big missed opportunity for BINI to take a drastic swerve in terms of their sonic palette, especially when their shift in sound from project to project has always seen slight changes, taking the safest tangents instead of diving into fascinating genre influences and experiments that the contemporary K-pop scene has currently embraced. Because, if they did manage to take that colorful array of genre elements alongside production and writing refinements, it could strengthen the concept of this EP, where the variation within genres and production textures paired with the solid vocal and melodic foundations at the core can be an absolute boon to BINI. But, Talaarawan as a whole just does not go there. Instead, in every passing good note there are disheveled musical scribbles that overshadow the better aspects of the EP. Stuck in a stiff sound that doesn’t allow BINI to encapsulate the set of emotions they wanted to express in these diary pages, they at least managed to land on the important emotion that will guide them onward: joy. Support the art & the artist:
Author: Elijah Timothy Pareno
MIXTAPE REVIEW: Cat Boy Jeepney Driver – DIARY NG POGI
Written by Louis Pelingen The artistic bond that Neytan and Areli have made ever since ‘FAR’ has flourished into something ecstatic beyond compare. When they first put that song out in the spotlight, their musical chemistry gels in an instant as their melodies echo their sonic influences such as Brockhampton and No Rome, and the ruffled yet effectively tuneful production has enough to captivate not just the listener but perhaps even themselves. This pairing of their interlocking interests and styles eventually paves the way for this duo to make their own boyband under the delightful name: Cat Boy Jeepney Drivers. Under their long-awaited debut mixtape, DIARY NG POGI, there is something in the presentation alone that speaks about the duo and the interests that made them click together. Their fascination and appreciation for the 2010s mainstream and local pop culture, the intrinsically silly Pinoy references and exuberant experiences that they carry along through their songwriting and performances, and even their sense of musical wonder that is not just creative, but in a way does reminisce on how homespun a lot of the local music scene that was popping over in youtube back in the early 2010s. Where despite the limitations that those acts have to face, they still manage to push past that as they insert as much charm into their songs whenever possible. Of course, these inspired characteristics do plop over to the musical side as well, where both Neytan and Areli chain together their respective knack for sampling and melodic composition to create a delightful blend of incredibly enjoyable pop and R&B songs within this mixtape. The joyous bounce of “LOSER” just puts an instant grin from ear to ear due to the swiveling samples and rumbling grooves swirling around the effortless vocal melodies, “UNSINT A MESSAGE” that’s comprised of manipulated samples and shuffling beat carries the layers of vocal harmonies to soar and allow the cheeky yet sincere sentiments to succeed, “MARSHMALLOW HATDOG” with its near 4-minute runtime full of harmonic layers picks up more melodic swells alongside pileups of strings and distorted percussions that closes the mixtape to a grand finale, and their cover of Justin Bieber’s “BOYFRIEND” adds upon a certain menace on the track’s sense of cool through the hammering percussion and blown out vocal pickups that lets the song to become instantaneously glorious as a result. Even if the breakbeat samples on “POP CULTURE” and especially ”MAYBE MITSKI” didn’t have the same creative treatment as the other songs, the vocal melodic runs placed upon the quicker pace of these songs are still sharp enough to work within the structure of the mixtape. Defined by their past local and international sonic influences alongside their own experiences that mold the silly yet sincere moments in these cuts, Cat Boy Jeepney Drivers are willing to not just take notes on past glories but appreciate them by embracing a sense of wonder and charm into their song-crafting process. As a result of their adventurous brand of pop, DIARY NG POGI unleashes multitudes of ecstatic, creative, and excellent set of pop songs from a duo that lives and breathes pop culture. Overall creating a colorful and charming diary that definitely needs a next installment, for there is so much greatness on display. Support the art & the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: Polkadot – Unstuck
If you look up “Unstuck” by Polkadot, you might be thinking that the thumbnail looks vaguely familiar. Is it because of the digicam aesthetic? Is it the vocalist looking sideways? Or is it the entire screencap lingering across your algorithm, nudging you until it convinces you at the very last minute to check it out? Truth be told, I was one of the chronically online viewers to fall for it, and my goodness it was worth my time. Carrying loads of distortion, booming snares and noisy fuzz, a couple of wits on-hand and a bunch of harbored influences from the 90s Matador and 2010s indiemo phase, the Bay Area’s Polkadot is a band that says a lot through its dirty amplifiers and honest-to-god songwriting. It’s infectious more than it is a drag to listen to. After releasing Feeling Okay in 2020, vocalist Daney Espiritu doesn’t run out of emotional whims while guitarist Matthew Estolano runs amok in melodic touches of fuzz rock from start to finish in their latest string of singles. And like all Bay Area DIY darlings, Polkadot’s “Unstuck” is an amalgamation of the band’s sound and attitude: good times, hard feelings, and amazing singles. That’s all there is to it, plus the algorithm is giving you good music this time around. Support the art & the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: koi. – Balingkinitan
Written by Elijah P. Dancehall’s time in the 2020s may be at its last legs with the rise of jersey club and drill still taking over the race of hip-hop’s production trends, koi takes it a step further by implementing a twist to it: sung wholly in Tagalog. Well, for the entirety of afrobeat and dancehall’s 5-minutes-of-fame in the prime of late 2010s music trends, its revitalization is strongly credited with the strong presence of Tyla’s western R&B sensibilities. However, koi’s mentioned twist to the genre is effective in its catchiest form to date, ultimately elevating its form on the track’s sung language. Produced by underground’s up-and-coming heavyweights Pxyche, NJ, and esseca. The first two mentioned producers deal with actual heavyweights like Hev Abi and Sica, koi is in good hands from the very beginning, but his actual contribution of smooth vocals and delivery just feels like they’ve successfully passed the vibe check for the entirety of its track run. I am looking forward to hearing more stuff like this soon in the future. Support the art & the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: Shaira – Selos
Some call it “B-BOP” (Short for Bangsamoro Pop) and some call it “music you would hear at the public market” or straight up a “2000s Banger”, we call it a masterpiece. Moro Singer-Songwriter Shaira Abdullah Alimudin, better known by her stage name Shaira, has unexpectedly swept the charts with her single aptly titled “Selos.” If you think about the track carefully, there’s actual staying power with tracks that are as immensely effective as Shaira’s booming career alongside her Moro cohorts. The public perception of Disco Moro as being inferior shouldn’t stay any longer as the music thrives all over the country’s music scenes. Characterized by a rhythmic blend of colorful synths – whereas the melodies replicate the bamboo flute – and groovy electronic drums synonymous with Indonesia’s Dangdut and other varied selections of Western Disco and Malay Dance Music influences over the decades, Disco Moro has been a community staple for parties, weddings and other religious celebrations alike. But other than writing the celebratory anthems in Disco Moro, the most common themes are love, everyday dilemmas, etc. Shaira is one of those artists who proves that interest in Disco has never waned over the years among their communities. “Selos” is rich with hooks, humor and energy on a normal day. It is purely a pop anthem for many to listen. While there are existing discriminatory efforts to bring the music down, there’s actual community support from her Moro Singers, ranging from Koronadal City, Lanao Del Sur, Marawi, and many more cities from Mindanao who have a heavy roster of talented keyboardists and singers who are fully booked for months. This is a call for celebration for not just Shaira as an individual artist living in Mindanao but for Moro Music at large. Support the art & the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: Bling – PURE BLISS NO WORRIES
PURE BLISS NO WORRIES is the second album released by Bling, a Filipino-American band based in Los Angeles. Irony is an ever-present theme throughout this 26-minute record. The grainy noise gradually builds up together like an anxious thought, unlike what the album title suggests. Another irony is that “build-up” never reaches an apex. The tracks feel like they are itching to be listened to on a train ride – only that the train ride could be destined for a train wreck. It’s one of those albums that you listen to as background music while attempting to do something productive, but unlike the productive mind, I worry that PURE BLISS NO WORRIES doesn’t add anything new to the table. Compared to their debut album titled “fuck”, Jinro Yo and Lianna Gutierrez’s vocals seem much campier and arguably more lucid in their sophomore record. The drums by Nick Castillo carry each track with fluidity and match well with the strum of Jaed Noleal’s guitar. If only the rest of the album used the sonic experience that was applied on the third track, ix3Chocolaté, we could have hopped on a bedroom rock road trip that either went down the “core memory” lane or the “headbang like no one is watching” route. Nevertheless, each instrument and modulation used in this record are easily malleable to make longer tracks like Patiently Waiting a memorable listening experience. I hope to hear something more similar in their future work so their sound appears to smooth out the grainy noise. The aesthetic choices of Bling’s attempt at a blissful theme such as the Angel Numbers present in the track length (Say Hi 2 Forever is 2:22, Nowhere… is 1:11, and RiskOne is 3:33) solidly create a mist of bliss. My question is, will that mist diffuse quickly? Support the art & the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: Brickcity – We The Forgettables
One thing I learned about Brickcity as of late: they still pack a punch, both literally and figuratively. As a 5-piece resting on their laurels as a cult band for the heavy music genre since the late aughts, they’re still going at it decades after being seen as the seminal post-hardcore band doing spoken word pieces amidst a chaotic mixture of acrobatic riffages and odd time signatures. Resulting in the creation of their latest album titled “We The Forgetabbles”, released under the Desperate Infant Records label not too long ago. If bands like Arcadia, Lindenwood, and TNG can surpass time and still ultimately become cool and palatable bands in the year 2024, then what more for a band like Brickcity which has honed their style since the dawn of blogosphere pop punk and forum-driven post-hardcore. Centered around the theme of mortality, time treated as a social construct, and intentional memory loss, there’s a lot to unpack with the complexities of each page being turned as the album progresses. Jacques Concepcion – the lead of this ever-evolving unit – doubles down on the preachy approach. Spattering every syllable from non-sequiturs to daring takes about human nature. There’s a certain charm to Concepcion’s delivery compared to most whiny, almost cracking vocal stylings of the post-hardcore scene’s vocalists that he was able to possess. Maybe it’s a god given gift or a curse, depending on who’s playing the instruments and holding it down. The album made sure that it balances the technical wonder and Concepcion’s in-your-face vocals. “We The Forgettables” has spread out consistently without compromise nor hesitation. Despite all the technicalities and chords sprinkled on the album, one dangling curiosity the casual listener would ask: Is there any more gas left in Brickcity? In “We The Forgettables”, Concepcion answers this question more often than not throughout the entire album. Is their rust showing? Will there ever be another Brickcity release for another half decade? Concepcion and the rest of the band beg to disagree that they are “forgettable” but rather an acceptance that a scene is changing. The young vanguard is approaching. Certain practices and philosophies have sharpened and Brickcity has never defanged their approach ever since, introducing this almost hostile style to the underground up until the mainstream stages. Tracks like “Bermuda Noise”, “Pretenders” and “Maginhawa St” have exemplified different methods and styles of post-hardcore, leaving the listener with a varied selection of tracks that’s almost signature to the genre itself. But the outlier is Concepcion’s unorthodox, professor-like demeanor, teaching you that forgetting is a form of coping and that the concept of “time” could actually teach something valuable. But seeing its themes blossom on the forefront, there seems to be less profound hooks and significant rhythm sections compared to their previous release “The Bones We Used To Share”, treating some songs as almost filler-like by theory. Regardless of its shorter length and lesser catchy chants and riffs, Brickcity still has what it takes to break out from their own art form in practice. “We The Forgettables” is a statement not just for the scene but a love letter for the fans who have stayed with them. The album is a footnote, a reminder, that they’re about to move on to the next chapter. Support the art & the artist:
EP REVIEW: SHUICHI – YEAR OF THE RABBIT
Written by Jax Figarola Following shuichi’s well-received 2020 debut EP, “somniloquy,” he returns with “YEAR OF THE RABBIT,” a collection that invites listeners into a world of introspection and dream-like grief and longing. He presents a haunting blend of dream pop, bedroom R&B, and ambient electronic elements in music that creates a strong feeling of a bittersweet ache in your chest as you lie awake from grieving the loss of a person still living, distant and far away. The EP opens with “COUNTRY,” a track that sets the melancholic tone. You are greeted with arpeggiated chords that resemble faded photographs, each note a fragment of a lost love. The lyrics tug at a familiar ache – the longing for someone who feels like a distant dream, and shuichi captures it with a poignant honesty. The overall vibe invites quiet contemplation, allowing listeners to immerse and drift away in shuichi’s world of emotions. “SLIDE” throws its listeners into a disoriented spiral. The slow tempo and layered vocals evokes a deeper sadness – the desolate wistfulness that could be heard from the vulnerability in his vocal delivery. Yet, the solace of finding his lover only in dreams underscores the ephemeral nature of dreaming. Moreover, while almost unnoticeable, the tiny details of static sounds are a constant reminder that the images in dreams can be purely fantastical. And then, the despairing guitar line in the long outro builds towards a resolution that never arrives, as the track is abruptly cut off, transitioning into the next song. This abrupt ending could mirror the sudden shifts and unresolved stories that occur within dreams, because unfortunately, we all have to wake up eventually and face what we have lost. Next, “TILL THE MORNING” reinforces the record’s theme of anguished dreaming. The light synths and distant layered vocals are reminiscent of a half-forgotten nightmare. shuichi addresses his lover as if there were a real confrontation, but everything feels like a hazy memory due to the ambient and lingering layered and sampled sounds of audio recordings. The distant voice recordings are a desperate attempt to hold onto a fading, or faded, connection as if sanity is lost. The last tracks mark a shift towards a more meditative and romantic atmosphere. In “KEN’S TRACK,” unintelligible, dialogue snippets from a chillingly cold female voice, presumably his lover, against a lone piano melody evoke deeper sentimentality. This melancholic mood is continued with the seamless transition into the final song, “ILY,” which blends the dream pop, sound collage, and ambient elements that capture the feeling of bittersweet longing that define the EP. The lyrics express love for the other but also sound like a desperate plea to be loved back or be loved back again… It is a fitting conclusion that reflects the difficulty of letting go. “YEAR OF THE RABBIT” might feel slow and melancholic to some, but the thematic unity and sonically cohesive soundscape elevate the record into a work of artistic merit, where vulnerabilities are explored in a linear narrative. The rabbit signifies vulnerability, and the record is for those seeking a deeply personal and introspective experience, an invitation to confront vulnerabilities and find solace in the catharsis of emotions. It is the year to be vulnerable, as shuichi’s music isn’t just a listening experience; it’s a journey through a whispered conversation with the ghosts of love and loss that linger in the dreamscape of memory. Support the art & the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: Zeke Abella – Poems
Written by Elijah P. The Philippines has a heavily documented history when it comes to comedic viral stars turned musicians, the pipeline dates back to Yoyoy Villame in the 80s in his most sadistic form of humor of turning classic soft rock hits into parodies. Throughout the 90s to the aughts, you’ve got comedians taking a serious turn of their slapstick into the top of the pops with Michael V’s persistent chart topping singles that’s taken notes of earlier Weird Al Yankovic and Bayani Agbayani’s eternal childhood pop hit “Ocho Ocho”. But as the decades pass, the 2010s was a turning point for some who’ve grown up using the internet post-battle rap, late night TV and internet hugot culture. Take Vice Ganda as a worthy example of these comedians taking it to the bigger musical stage despite the influential catchphrases and next level sarcastic humor they’re known for. Entering the 2020s, the shelflife of a comedian-musician will last a longer internet lifespan of a shining star across the cosmos, especially for Cebuano native Zeke Abella’s shot to stardom in his latest single “Poems”. If you’re not convinced enough, Abella has reported about the VisMin hip hop scene months before being a Tiktok sensation on YouTube Channels. But the effect of being a casual comedian has further skyrocketed his exposure, putting his musical talent and his scene cohorts to the limelight. Absorbing the sensibilities and vocal runs of a SZA listener, Abella’s latest singles “Poems” deviates from his earlier material and the entire cliches of machismo in male-fronted r&b. Instead, Abella puts his vulnerability front and center, tapping into the struggling, emotional yearning on top of tasteful vocal harmonies and piano rolls, with no artificial additives and comedy involved. Zeke Abella may have given everyone a good laugh or two but his music has imminently put the VisMin scene to the spotlight for the coming years.
TRACK REVIEW: sister christine – driver’s license
Written by Jax Figarola “driver’s license” by sister christine immerses their audience in a sonic landscape that draws inspiration from iconic shoegaze bands like quannnic, Whirr, flyingfish, and my bloody valentine. However, the song combines the elements of grunge and shoegaze, capturing the essence of dark liminal spaces through its use of distant ethereal vocals, buried drums, distorted and heavy guitar riffs, and fuzzy textures that scratch the brain. The track opens with solitary guitar riffs that echo only through the left stereo, which set the stage for a long, dragging intro that lasts for half a minute before the opening verse comes. The murky and noisy atmosphere, achieved through the use of pedal-infused guitars and the deliberate use of distorted overlapping vocals, paradoxically instills a sense of calmness. The lyrics, nearly drowned by the loudness of the instruments, contribute to a sense of blasé sentiment towards the whole composition. However, and a big however, the emotive and distorted voice during the chorus is easily discernible, evoking emotions of hopelessness and entrapment in a dysfunctional relationship–a cycle of intoxicating pain. In short, while the established soundsphere of the instruments crafts a sense of deliriium, it is the vocals that stand out as the track’s most compelling element. Turning attention to the song’s discovery, it’s noteworthy that TikTok played a huge role. The cylical nature of attention in the age dominated by doomscrolling and an algorithm that often steers depressed people towards depressive content, the track resonates with TikTok users seeking relatable melancholic content. In a curated display of seemingly “liminal space” images, sister christine strategically utilizes the platform to promote their song by posting repetitive TikToks in a standardized format, featuring text like “pov: you found an underrated artist to obsess over” set against images, in a slideshow, of dark, eerie liminal spaces that invoke both familiarity and discomfort. Therefore, the intention of the artist feels like it plays a pivotal role in their success. If their intention is to seek attention, as the song suggests, then repetitive posts of the same script hoping to blow up is an impressive metaphor, similarly how Mallbangs’ “Gutter” was popularized through edits of the game Silent Hill or how Aphex Twin’s “Pulsewidth” had a resurgence in popularity due to slideshows of Y2K images. However, attributing sister christine’s success solely to TikTok strategies would be unfair. The artist adeptly leverages TikTok culture to create an easily streamable audio, tapping into the platform’s teen shoegaze and indie fans. Despite lacking a distinctly Filipino touch, the intense and obscure sound of “driver’s license” remains an impressive addition to the shoegaze genre. This doesn’t imply a requirement for the song to be in a Philippine language; rather, it just seems somewhat foreign, resembling international shoegaze acts like sister christine’s inspirations. Wrapping up with an air of mystery, the confusing title (at least, for me) of “driver’s license” remains an elusive riddle. The title makes no sense, inviting listeners to ponder its meaning even after the music has concluded. Support the art & the artist: