Written by Noelle Alarcon Proudly wearing their years in the local music scene under their belt, ONE CLICK STRAIGHT’s evolution is evident with every release they put out. Finding their niche through speaking out on matters of the heart, it’s no surprise they came up with “Telepono.” It’s as if they’re professing vulnerabilities through the coiled telephone cord, hoping you’ll make out the earnestness from the receiver. Over time, OCS has always kept their trademark: the production of their music closes in on your ears, engulfing you in the reverb of their spilled truths. This fits their style just right–with the heavy-handed strumming of their guitars, the rattling echo of the snare drum, and the breathy articulation of the Marquez brothers. In “Telepono,” they blend these elements with radio rock staples of the late ‘90s and the early 2000s. These are heard in the littlest quirks, like starting the song with a crescendo to a drum fill, or the brief moment where everything is so distorted the instruments crackle into static, making room for the vocalist’s poignance. It’s tracks like this, inspired by the desolation in cold city dweller settings, (as seen in their single covers) that people connect with most. But like long-distance confessions through the circuit lines, it’s hard to grasp the extent of affection “Ikaw lang ang gustong kausap” encompasses. For a song so honest, its intentions need more than the derivation of song structures that were once in fashion–”Telepono” yearns for the fullness of sound that OCS is known for. Criticisms aside, “Telepono” is another catchy, memorable track from OCS. The warmth it possesses keeps you company in the midst of the biting wind under evening skylines. It’s the late night dial you never expected to ring, whose words are filled with such endearment that they keep you up until the morning.
Author: Noelle Alarcon
ALBUM REVIEW: Barbie Almalbis – Not That Girl
Written by Noelle Alarcon If you’ve dug into the heyday of OPM, there’s no doubt you’ve come across Barbie Almalbis ‘ truths spread across her bands “Hungry Young Poets” and “Barbie’s Cradle.” Ever since becoming a solo act, Almalbis has shown immense growth–she tells us like it is in her latest release, Not That Girl. An album created to cope with “the most challenging year of her life,” her renewed outlook crafted a path for her most introspective, experimental record yet. Enriched with producer Nick Lazaro’s background in the metal genre, they managed to create an assortment of songs that are as familiar as they are fresh. Up to its mixing, the album utilizes everything at its sonic fingertips to tell its story. “Desperate Hours” shifts between your ears, a medley of multiple instruments banging and pattering against the sustained chord progression. Her eventual relief arrives when “finally the war is over” resounds clearer than any of her other lyrics, making way for her victory. “Homeostasis” follows suit in the first track’s whimsicality, equally as synth-laden and raw. It leans a bit more towards power pop though, reminiscent of the punchiness of her earlier works. Not That Girl hinges on Almalbis’ beliefs; it is what makes it so vulnerable, yet so comforting. “I tell my soul to only seek you, it’s the only real remedy,” she admits in “Happy Sad” through her signature unique delivery. The heavy metal-inspired track “Platonic” comes afterward, coated in cloying irony. You’d expect the bass drum-filled, fast-paced track to be cynical; until you hear Almalbis sweetly affirm, “I know God loves me, because you do!” All these songs build from each other; audible renditions of her life lessons making her stronger than ever before. “All U Wanna Do” is as feisty and loud as “Platonic,” yet there’s a calmness to the wandering synths that fill in its gaps while she bares her soul. “How To Weep” and the titular track “Not That Girl” prove Almalbis’ pen game is unparalleled. The former is a somber ballad, written straight from her heart: “Nobody knows I’m grieving alone; the way it comes, the way it goes.” The latter roars and howls, taking a more avant-garde approach to the worship songs she’s been acquainted with. “Tell them I’m not who I was before, I’m not that girl anymore!” Almalbis declares, calming the fierce storm inside her. Speaking of Almalbis and being unparalleled, she’s definitely one of the most influential women during Filipino alternative music’s peak in the 1990s and the 2000s. “Needy” and “Wickederrr Heart,” the album’s concluding tracks, greet you like an old friend you haven’t seen in a while. In this case, it’s her trademark sound that we all know and love. “Needy” is a bass-driven, drum machine-led proclamation, perfect for cruising along the road as you nod along to her lyrics filled with appreciation for loved ones in life. “Wickederrr Heart” is a bouncy, pop rock denouement of self-awareness, coated in the desire to change. “I can’t love you when I’m running; I know how it all turns out,” she admits to God, showing her true colors and encouraging you to do the same. Not That Girl is a testament to the fact that there’s always a light at the end of the tunnel. Its experimentality emphasizes its overall message. Life has its very own heavy metal highs, and sincerity-ridden, folk-inspired revelations. The ringing in your ears can seem like a catastrophic cacophony–until you take charge, and create something daringly beautiful out of it. Support the art and the artist:
TRACK Review: Mellow Fellow – Heaven
Written by Noelle Alarcon In this world, heaven is considered as the be-all, end-all of life’s course. Anything else euphoria-inducing that comes close is the nearest you’ll get to arriving at the cosmological paradise. For indie pop act Mellow Fellow, who emerged from Muntinlupa and is currently located in Canada, the agency to choose yourself is his equivalent of the bliss achieved beyond the stars. True to his name, “Heaven” opens with a mellow assortment of instruments smoothly cascading into his smooth vocals. The keyboard and the guitars twinkle along the periphery. They form the core of his trademark sound, reminiscent of the motifs that defined bedroom pop during the 2010s. The rhythm section doesn’t take a back seat, either. The thick strings of the bass dance to the variations of open-handed drumming, making the symphony full and whole. It creates an environment conducive enough to let his truth bloom across rich textures, intensified by titillating synths and alternating beats. “Heaven” is light and airy, with fierce proclamations adding a little kick to the artist’s signature cool. It propels you into the clouds through the unapologetic honesty its confessions spell out. It’s a reflection of the arduous journey to corporeal nirvana, aurally fleshed out in the highs and lows between the verses and choruses. This is Mellow Fellow’s invitation for you to ascend with him into liberation, through dropping the burdens of life that no longer serve you.