Author: Louis Pelingen

  • ALBUM REVIEW: VVINK – It Starts With A Wink

    ALBUM REVIEW: VVINK – It Starts With A Wink

    Written by Paolo Elwick

    P-pop is currently enjoying a much-deserved moment in the mainstream spotlight thanks to the nation’s girl group BINI and pioneers SB19. While mostly positive, the increased levels of attention give the new generation of groups a different, much more nuanced, challenge to face: standing out in a scene that’s no longer just fighting for a seat at the table, but one competing to keep it. After a steady stream of singles released over the past year, five-member group VVINK is ready to step up to the plate with ‘It Starts With A Wink,’ a versatile debut album filled with personality and Filipino charm.

    Built around the idea of a wink as a silent gesture of connection, the album’s foundation is approachable and relatable storytelling — something that the initial set of singles leading up to its release support. Whether it’s the lovestruck “Tulala,” the earnest anxiety of wanting someone to confess their love on “Kailan Ka Aamin,” or the hopeful, Aladdin-inspired “Tatlong Hiling,” VVINK leans into everyday emotions and experiences, making the album easy to relate to and even easier to sing along with.

    That familiarity extends to the production, where VVINK builds their identity by proudly embracing Filipino sounds and reshaping them into something that’s their own. “Baduy,” their DJ Love-produced rendition of budots, shines the brightest by proudly embracing a genre that’s turned into a meme and often overlooked by mainstream pop while simultaneously reclaiming baduy as a badge of confidence. On the opposite end of the spectrum, “Ikaw Ikaw” takes a page out of emotional Filipino ballads with a relatively stripped-down instrumental, allowing tender and heartfelt lines like “Sa oras ng lungkot, ika’y yakap / Sa mga luha, may pag-asa / Sa’yong mga kamay / Pag-ibig ay damang dama” to pay tribute to loved ones who have supported them throughout the years. Then there’s “It’s a Rap,” a high-energy track that serves swagger through anthemic verses that flex the group’s achievements while remaining cognizant of the journey ahead. Together, these songs show a group that’s not simply borrowing from Filipino sounds, but confidently making them part of their own musical identity.

    This versatility makes it all the more frustrating when the group’s songwriting settles for easy, formulaic writing. For example, the undeniably infectious and alive “Pag-ibig Fun” has a runtime mostly occupied by the repeating “fun, fun, fun, fun” and “one, one, one, one” refrains. While intentionally designed to be as catchy as possible, the repetition runs thin, leaving the song feeling less clever and not as playful. Unfortunately, similar moments appear elsewhere, where memorable production sometimes has to carry lyrics that can’t always keep up.

    Still, ‘It Starts With A Wink’ succeeds because Angelika, Ayaka, Jean, Mariel, and Odri bring enough chemistry, charisma, and youthful energy to make the album feel unmistakably theirs. That’s what makes this debut so exciting. In a P-pop scene growing faster than ever, technical polish alone won’t separate one group from the other — but personality will. Luckily, VVINK seems to have lots of that already. So don’t blink; they’re only getting started.

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  • ALBUM REVIEW: SHNTI — Melting PT.

    ALBUM REVIEW: SHNTI — Melting PT.

    Written by Noelle Alarcon

    SHNTI is one of the local hiphop scene’s darlings; coming from Quezon City, her verses and bars are as explosive as the busy landscape of the metropolis she resides in. With her bright orange hair, this era and cover artwork are equally as striking; her debut album ‘Melting PT.’ is purely her; loud as firecrackers and as unapologetically radiant as the sparks that follow right after.

    Though SHNTI mainly rose to prominence through chill, laid-back pronouncements over lo-fi beats, ‘Melting PT.’ shows a whole other side to her artistry. Infusing her raps with the clever daringness of other genres like breakcore and dance pop. This debut album starts off hot and continuously heats up until the very last track, setting ablaze to a more sonically adventurous path in her journey as an artist.

    Bass-boosted opener “Heartless” establishes the playful yet self-assuredly brash vibe that prevails throughout the album. The thumping, bass-boosted instrumental is fired up, a bouncy medium for SHNTI to serve a steaming hot plate of righteousness: “your father raised a dirty son / what more have you really done/keep getting older/your victims not over twenty-one.” The choruses even descend into breakbeats, centering on the rage that funnels through the song.

    ‘Melting PT.’ also displays SHNTI’s knack for making magic out of collaborations; this album features Pette Shabu on “DND” and FEIFEI on “My Girls.” Both tracks play to the strengths of their collaborators: the quickfire, hard-hitting lines of the former (“tanginang mukha ‘yan / kailangan din ng beat switch”), and the chill, smooth vocals that grace the latter.

    SHNTI continues to present this rage in multifaceted ways across tracks. This is heard in the rap metal anthem of determination that is “BREAK” and the breakcore-influenced “not(shygirl),” where the artist huffs and puffs about taking up space and staying true up to the very end. Hidden in between the breaks and plugins are the rhymes that paint the conflict of SHNTI versus the world, and how she continues to stay 100% authentic despite the hurdles that come her way.

    There is quiet, vulnerable simmering that lies beneath all the fierceness of ‘Melting PT.,’ too. In contrast to the blaring synths that crowd “OMO,” there is self-reflection that takes a great deal of maturity to admit; “kung ako ay iibigin/ayoko sana na maubos ka,” sings SHNTI. Closer’s “melting point” encapsulates the struggle of growing up under the public eye in a manner that is truly heartfelt, committing her to growth. “I will unlearn my shame/and it’s all for love.”

    This album’s momentum starts off fast and heavy, but somewhere in the middle, it seems to be indecisive about whether it wants to accelerate further or slow down to accommodate the inhibitions that bring its explosiveness to light. Every once in a while, a couple of songs are contingent upon similar sonic patterns that can be hard to differentiate, at times, as heard in “(not)shygirl” and “timebomb.”

    But despite such remarks, ‘Melting PT.’ is a phenomenal debut. It may be miles away from the SHNTI sound that everyone was hooked on in the beginning, but this is her flame-embossed mark on the world: an unexpected, yet creatively authentic shift of sound. ‘Melting PT.’ shows SHNTI is not finished exploring the tricks up her sleeve—she’s just getting started. 

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  • ALBUM REVIEW:  Jimmy Khalo – GOLDILOCKS

    ALBUM REVIEW:  Jimmy Khalo – GOLDILOCKS

    READ THE FULL REVIEW IN THE TFL WEBSITE RIGHT HERE: 

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    Written by Noelle Alarcon

    With an album cover that pays homage to Johannes Vermeer’s ‘The Milkmaid,’ Jimmy Khalo’s debut album ‘GOLDILOCKS’ is a clear example of what happens when self-expression is unapologetic and undeniably at the forefront. 

    According to the artist themself, it’s “the soundtrack of our 20s, [and] a love letter to our 30s and beyond.” The 11-track release is laden with influences from the soundscapes of Khalo’s youth, inspired by the pop records of the time, like Lady Gaga’s ‘Born This Way’ and Beyoncé’s ‘I AM…SASHA FIERCE.’ There’s the sensual appeal of contemporary R&B, mixed with the groovy invitation to the dancefloor by afrobeats influences, and funky, consistent basslines paired with harmonies that build upon the excitement of anticipation. Produced independently, ‘GOLDILOCKS’ is a testament to what dedication to a vision can bring to life.

    Sonically, Khalo’s music shines best when it references the past that conjured this project altogether: dreamy synths and brash 808s make a bold statement that shows their daringness to explore the limits of sound. This is heard in standout track “NYMPH,” where the vocals are hard-hitting and anthemic, singing of the artist’s determination and inability to be tamed.

    There’s a quality of honesty embedded in every lyric Khalo writes, and these steal the show, flashy, uptempo beats aside. In “AMUSE YOU,” they’re singing about intimacy and a good time in bed on a house beat. On “RAIN,” the artist sounds unstoppable in finding themselves in the complicated journey that is life. From the lightness of “I’ll send you to heaven and seal with a kiss” to the strength and resolve in “I’m wiser than my years, still, I trip with my own toes,” it’s admirable to observe the honesty that oozes through these tracks.

    It is exciting to see the many sounds that the artist can stick with while still maintaining the central theme of ‘GOLDILOCKS,’ but at the same time, there’s a sense of disconnect that can be found every so often throughout the album. It’s a set of songs knotted altogether, but quite roughly. In its quest to look for the self, it sounds like the rope that it casts far and wide tends to fray at times.

    The intensive look into cohesiveness aside, Jimmy Khalo’s debut album is a promising look into what charisma and belief in oneself can bring to the table. It’s a product of someone who was raised by pop hit after pop hit, delivering a manifestation that the reality of adulthood helped to shape.

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  • TRACK REVIEW: Delinquent Society – Kuha Bag

    TRACK REVIEW: Delinquent Society – Kuha Bag

    Written by Julia Harumi Kudo

    You’d expect a hip-hop track entitled “Kuha Bag” to dead stop at mere materialism, but this one does not. Burgeoning around it are 808s, clipped hi-hats, and even a puny horror-sorrow verve. Formed in 2016 and hailing from Davao City, Delinquent Society continues to attest to its prowess in transcending not only the confines of the hip-hop enclave but also the cultural barriers that traditionally demarcate artistic movements. This gritty act emerges not merely as a linear progression but as a powwow of cultural forces, weaving its way into the collective consciousness of an expansive and diverse audience.

    “Kuha Bag,” featuring longtime collaborator Rjay Ty and now a new chapter led by Aud and Contemplate, introduces a creeping tension before the rhythm locks into familiar trap demeanor with frigid beats. Yet producer SCOOP DOGG crimsons those expected elements with layers of distorted electronic texture, an ebbing interference that makes the entire beat feel unstable, almost hacked. Aud’s prose views success as an escape velocity, “Para to sa mga stuck hood and they still there. Now we in the building ‘di mo ‘lam yung feeling”, while keeping the hood in memory although it refuses to just solely be trapped within them. Contemplate muses, “Raming nag hate, alam kasi nila kami favorite ni God. Partida pa nga to hindi pa to sinagad, malala”, with the confidence of someone who has overcome countless doubts that criticism now is just futile background noise. Delinquent Society sounds older now, not tired. Sharpened. Less interested in proving they belong because they never really needed permission.

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  • ALBUM REVIEW: elijah – South II

    ALBUM REVIEW: elijah – South II

    Written by Julia Harumi Kudo

    True north is believed to be unwavering, ironclad. We like to imagine there is a fixed point somewhere ahead of us, killing time to vindicate every wrong turn. But on ‘South II,’ Elijah Canlas — or overtly elijah, as he asserts on being known here — offers a different orientation. The title gestures toward a place rather than an aspiration: ‘South II,’ the Cavite subdivision where he spent his formative years. The album doesn’t necessarily seek enlightenment so much as it excavates Elijah’s genesis. It is less concerned with becoming someone; it is, instead, hell-bent on remembering who he was before anyone was watching.

    For an actor who has primarily built his public image by inhabiting other people’s roles, ‘South II’ is, in a sense, a form of self-disclosure. “Sa acting… Hindi ako yung pinapanood nila. Ito ako lang ‘to eh. So parang, paano yan, diba? Parang husgaan nyo ako all you want. But I guess that’s the beauty of music”, Elijah remarked while discussing the album’s release with Philstar. Throughout the album’s compact runtime, you’d certainly hear Elijah still learning how to occupy his own voice after years of mastering everyone else’s, with the shadows of Kalel, Cairo, and the many characters that made him one of his generation’s most compelling young actors. And that voice is, admittedly, still finding its footing.

    The opening track, “Oras Mo Na Raw,” is intended as a declaration of mission, depicting a moment of awakening after a youth wandered too long, but it comes across more like a sketch than a revelation. The production is simple, and the lyrics are scuffed. It’s a surprisingly understated introduction, giving the impression of an artist who seems ready to introduce themselves but only offers a weak handshake. Still, even the album’s weaker moments reveal something refreshing: Elijah’s refusal to posture, to simply flow ersatz. Unlike many debut rap records, ‘South II’ contains significantly less mythmaking. Elijah hardly ever presents himself as supreme; instead, he ultimately acts as someone who has always been aware of his own immaturity. Whether that humility is instinctive or constructed, it still becomes the record’s greatest strength.

    Elijah, then, starts to turn into a firestarter when he’s not trying too hard to rap and instead becomes a storyteller at heart. “Mousetrap,” one of his favorite tracks, captures the kamikaze mythology of South II with enough detail to feel lived-in rather than just nostalgic. In “Asar Talo,” he muses, “I am not OA. I’m just not ok. Dami-daming gago dyan sa tabi mukhang kokey.” It’s ridiculous and brilliant at the same time. And the references fly fast, the enthusiasm faster. You can hear the poet before you hear the rapper, and that distinction matters. “U Wanna Be?” featuring SHNTI is beyond a shadow of a doubt, the album’s first undeniable spark. The production is sharper, more spacious, and substantially more confident. SHNTI’s flair adds an effortless charisma that transforms South II from a promising debut into the record it seems determined to become. By the time “Bituin” arrives, the album reveals what it has been moving toward all along: hope. This final track, based on an unfinished song by Elijah’s late brother JM, unravels the album’s ambition. The inclusion of JM’s original audio recording makes its simplicity all the more moving. In its wake, South II no longer feels solely moored to a subdivision. It belongs instead to the people who continue to linger in it, even in memory.

    ‘South II’ is an album title that suggests a geographical direction, but its emotional journey points somewhere else entirely. In these songs, Elijah spends his time clawing back old streets, revisiting old mistakes, and speaking to loved ones. By the end, finding your true north has little to do with moving forward; rather, it lies in understanding the south you came from.

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  • EP REVIEW: Slinky Fever – Feverish

    EP REVIEW: Slinky Fever – Feverish

    Written by JK Caray

    Slinky Fever, Megumi Acorda’s recently announced solo side-project, goes online with its synthpop debut EP ‘Feverish’ as the musician’s fresh venture into electronic music. Best known as the frontwoman of one of the local underground’s most successful dreampop acts, a move like this that seems to have completely come out of nowhere. Thus, it puts into view a few questions, with the most obvious one being: does the magic in her main band still carry into a project like ‘Feverish’?

    Opening with “Factory Girl, E.S.”, the world of ‘Feverish’ is introduced as a tasteful homage to the 80s New Wave that once dominated the airwaves. It’s got all these trademarks of glittery pads and dance drum loops with the added flair of feeling like you’re alone inside a dark room, solely lit by neon disco lights. In a way, ‘Feverish’ manages to make synthpop sound intimate with the tiniest bit of claustrophobia, in part due to the confessional lyrics and the electronic atmosphere, a decision that makes the EP more compelling.

    Initially created as a dump for Acorda’s music homework back in college, it has since been an outlet for the artist’s production practice. For the most part, the release being a “practice” makes sense. A few issues make it clear that she’s still finding her footing within the style of ‘Feverish’, most notably with the latter part of “There You Go Again”. Alongside the obsessive lyrical narrative, the juxtaposition between the unfeeling drum loops and the airy synths does not evoke the effect it’s attempting to give. 

    Performance-wise, Acorda’s signature soft, dreamlike vocals remain a welcome constant during the bulk of the EP. On tracks like “Heaven” and “Away”, these create a liminal environment that amplifies the longing and the neediness found within the tracks. However, it leaves more to be desired for the other tracks “There You Go Again” and “Factory Girl, E.S.”, both of which needed a more dynamic vocal presence to elevate their mood.

    Nevertheless, the handful of lows do not discredit the Slinky Fever’s promising experimentation into electronic pop. In the current sea of industry plants and trendhoppers, seeing a renowned musician risk their credibility to explore a different take on their artistry means a lot for budding artists scared to put their work out for the general public to scrutinize. 

    After all, Megumi Acorda and Slinky Fever are just two sides of the same coin; it’s still the same gentle voice, the same affective yearning. So, as long as the artist continues to authentically express their conceptual world, whether in different genres or mediums, that same magic will still be found in whatever kind of art they produce.

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  • EP REVIEW: Panjia – Astroboy

    Written by Paolo Elwick

    Shaun Alina’s Metro Manila-based alt rock outfit Panjia returns with their second EP ‘Astroboy,’ a sharper, more focused follow-up to their 2023 EP ‘all the colors that make you!!!’ Across the four-track project, the band paddles deeper into the waters of shoegaze and noise rock with a dense, feedback-heavy sound that feels both abrasive and vulnerable. The result is an EP that perfectly captures the kind of exhaustion that comes from living in a crowded city where everything feels too loud, too fast, and emotionally distant all at once.

    From the explosive, almost-cinematic intro that is “Rat Attack on Metro Manila!!!” to the relentless onslaught of drums on “Nauubusan Nanaman Ng Pagmamahal Si Belinda,” Astroboy is clearly built on a foundation of tension. And this is most evident when guitars crash through layers of distortion to create textured riffs that feel like the sonic equivalent of running your hands across concrete—which is exactly what makes the EP work. The distortion isn’t just there for aesthetic or shock value, it’s actually embedded into the storytelling itself. 

    The use of repetition, feedback, and grating instrumentals all come together to stage a sonic atmosphere that feels suffocating in a way that mirrors the emotional and physical fatigue of the urban day-to-day experience. But even at its most chaotic, the EP never feels directionless because the three-man group understands how to control momentum, allowing tracks to swell, collapse, and breathe without losing any weight. At times, the songs even feel like they’re on the verge of imploding or falling apart, but that instability is exactly what makes Astroboy exciting.

    It’s also no surprise that underneath all the noise and texture is a generous amount of vulnerability. Whether through melodies or personal lines buried underneath rough riffs and distorted strings like “Can’t you see / That I am not / Whoever you / Must think I am” from the closing track “Astroboy,” Panjia consistently finds a way to make chaos feel human by injecting softness and vulnerability into the harsh walls of sound they create.

    For a project with a run time of just over 13 minutes, ‘Astroboy’ is remarkably cohesive. Panjia captures the overwhelming nature of modern life without overexplaining it, trusting texture and atmosphere to communicate what words often can’t, creating an EP that’s loud, restless, and emotionally worn down—but also deeply alive.

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  • ALBUM REVIEW: dreaming blue flowers – endomorphins

    ALBUM REVIEW: dreaming blue flowers – endomorphins

    Written by Paolo Elwick

    Since introducing themselves with “Do(es) I(t) Matter?” at 123Block on June 21, 2024, dreaming blue flowers has bloomed into one of the more emotionally resonant acts in the local indie scene with songs rooted in vulnerability, introspection, and atmosphere. For members Lissia Ciel, Hannah Angelica, and Kern, that sensibility fully manifests on ‘endomorphin’, a mellow and melancholic debut effort that puts the lingering ache of heartbreak into words and notes before it slowly fades into memory.

    Setting the scene is a set of instrumentals either knee-deep in keys or swimming in strings — both, however, are excellent foundations that allow Lissia Ciel’s soft yet seemingly distant vocals to shine. The three-member indie folk band then adds a layer of vulnerability through lyrics like “I will find a way / to get through the maze / of failure to feel oneself / on countless days” from the title track “endomorphin”. While heartbreak remains the album’s emotional anchor, its songs are equally concerned with the aftermath of loss — the guilt, self-doubt, and emotional exhaustion that naturally accompany the end of any meaningful relationship. Across the album’s 43-minute runtime, these feelings seamlessly shift from wounds to reflections, making it clear that endomorphin is an exploration of how people carry pain, not how they get over it. 

    The arrangements reinforce that emotional weight by slowly unfolding, layer by layer, allowing pianos, strings, and percussion to thrust those emotions into the spotlight. This is particularly effective on “breath of life,” where the gentle instrumental mirrors the search for belonging amidst uncertainty with bright highs and muted lows, while “spaces between” starts mellow before eventually ramping up into a riff to represent the stress of wrestling with the painful realization that some relationships cannot be held together by effort alone.

    For both tracks, the drums are noticeable, but they rarely demand attention—instead, they serve to subtly shift momentum, while the strings and keys act as emotional cues that guide listeners through the album’s many moments of reflection. Even the vocals, echoing and softly drifting throughout the project’s runtime, contribute to this sense of restraint by creating distance that pairs well with the album’s introspective nature. In the process, everything comes together cohesively for an ephemeral, dream-like experience — something that isn’t always a given for full-length debuts, especially from burgeoning bands. But dreaming blue flowers seems surprisingly aware of who they want to be and the sound that they want to make.

    While having a clear identity is mostly positive, the songs on ‘endomorphin’ can sometimes feel too cohesive, often blending into one another with too much ease as if they’re one 40-something-minute song. The same patience that gives the album its dream-like quality also means that the songs often unfold in similar ways, with soft vocals, strings, keys, and adjacent themes occupying much of the same space. As a result, certain tracks sometimes blur together over the album’s runtime. For more present listeners, this might not be an issue, but this project rewards a listener who’s fully present with an immersive experience filled with nuggets of emotion, warmth, and depth.

    And maybe that’s exactly the point. Much like the memories and emotions it draws from, ‘endomorphin’ rarely arrives in sharp focus. Instead, it drifts between moments of clarity and haze, allowing heartbreak, regret, and longing to bleed into one another until they become inseparable. In doing so, dreaming blue flowers puts into sound a difficult truth about healing: our wounds never fully go away — they simply become part of the lives we live.

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  • EP REVIEW: Tarsius – Vikslotov

    EP REVIEW: Tarsius – Vikslotov

    Written by JK Caray

    Six years after their last album ‘Culture Cow’ in 2020, a few sets at international festivals, and appearances on a lot of compilation albums, Tarsius makes a long-awaited comeback with the release of their new EP ‘Vikslotov.’ In letting the tracks evolve and marinate, the Manila-based duo has surprisingly come out with a release reminding us that one of the electronic scene’s most acclaimed acts is still here to innovate.

    As the opening track, “Autophagy” doesn’t waste time introducing the plane of existence it belongs to. Arguably the EP’s standout track, “Autophagy” exists in different phases of a cerebral journey, guided by Jay Gapasin’s precise percussion work. In general, drum loops are used extensively throughout the EP, with the track “Oui” ditching traditional acoustic drums for more compact drum machine beats that sync with the song’s alienating leads and occasional vocal chops. Speaking of, “IKR”s more engaging use of chopped vocals does the heavy lifting in giving the track its own identity, leaning more on its playful, almost sassy sonic profile. Lastly, “Vagabond” rounds off the EP with a satisfying aural shift towards Melodic House beats after the tense, rhythmic push-and-pull present in “Spectrum”.

    At a distance, ‘Vikslotov’ looks like a release that came from the mix of different styles Tarsius has dabbled in after a long period of inactivity. With the risk of seeming like an “All must go” kind of EP, ‘Vikslotov’ may not be the duo’s most cohesive collection, but it’s the breathing, ever-present rhythm living inside these tracks that holds the release together. Building on that groove, ‘Vikslotov’ shows us the different forms Tarsius is capable of taking shape in. Though it may cause whiplash from the differences between the tracks’ personalities, it is a welcome change since Tarsius knows how to make each song interesting. Besides, when stripped down to its most basic form, isn’t electronic music simply about making insane drum beats and doing tons of experimentation?

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  • TRACK REVIEW: KXLE, Maxy Presko – Marlboro 

    TRACK REVIEW: KXLE, Maxy Presko – Marlboro 

    Written by Adrian Jade Francisco

    The local rap scene has built a habit of reshaping globally familiar sounds into something closer to home. Filipino hip-hop interpolation thrives as cultural déjà vu rather than just familiarity—KXLE and Maxy Presko inhale Post Malone’s “Psycho” and exhale something local known as “Marlboro.”

    The track opens with an instant earworm of a chorus, with lyrics “May chick ako na psycho / Di niya ko niloloko / Nandiyan lang sya palagi / Yung yosi nya Marlboro.” Its lyrical hook can sound silly, as in NATEMAN’s “IMMA FLIRT,” but its catchiness still lands just as hard. This time around, KXLE leans on his honed cloud and pop rap production. Drawing from his long experience in the genre, he filters “Psycho’s” melodic memory into the humid texture of Pinoy rap.

    While it lacks added sonic flavors in its instrumentals compared to its contemporaries who interpolate music from previous years, it instead thrives on its raw infectiousness. The interpolation doesn’t sit on top of the beat; however, it is the beat’s backbone.

    In “Marlboro,” that tradition continues not as imitation, but as translation—where borrowed melodies are reshaped into something that feels unmistakably local.

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