Written by Louis Pelingen Six years might be a long time, but the result is worth the wait. July XIV is an indie rock group whose debut project has been waiting in the wings for some time now. Back in 2018, they first put out “Hunger,”, their very first single that carries off a potent rock tune amidst Evee Simon’s tender vocals punching through the vigorous grooves and soothing melodic flair. That song is perhaps the only song they’ll put out in the open during that time, as they have been focused on performing live since then, with more songs that they will eventually bring onto the record. Some of those live songs will be then released in 2022, keeping that upcoming project still bursting with hope after all that silence. 6 years have since passed, and July XIV have finally put together their debut album, charmingly titled after that debut single, Hunger. Running just around 28 minutes, July XIV brought together a tightly-knit package of indie rock cuts, a straightforward enough descriptor executed well through the stronger compositions by members of this band, as well as the production, mixing, and mastering duties by Evee Simon, Kevin Ingco, and Megumi Acorda respectively. Allowing these cuts to have a consistent sound quality, even if the dryness can run together at spots. But nevertheless, the blend of punchy textures paired with contrasting moments between flashy passages and tender moments are at least solid, from the riveting guitar work and solid grooves of “Chainsmoker,” the aforementioned “Hunger” where Evee’s vocals spark every time the song hits the chorus, the grunge flair that pops up on cuts like ‘Belief’ and ‘Deus Ex Machina’ with the meaty guitars smashing through with aplomb, and the string accented ‘(with feeling)’ allows the album to end in a more solemn note as those weary strings anchors a welcome emotive presence within the instrumentation. Ruminating towards the lyricism, the album title “hunger” feels apt for what Evee Simon is reaching out within this album, as her writing focuses on yearning for so much more within life despite the sense of loss and hardships being felt and gathered over time. This focus sticks the landing due to the sharp metaphors intensifying the drive to live within a grounded reality. Clinging towards dreams, memories, and fantasies keeps the protagonist moving onwards which eventually culminates in “No Sugar” where the protagonist ruminates how getting older does make them wiser and stronger, yet that maturity still can’t drift away the pang they still feel towards losing some important to them on ‘Revelations I’. But despite all that, “(with feeling)” put things back to a much more hopeful but also complex scope, where despite questioning the overall spectacle towards what it means to be a musician, it still gives a reason for the protagonist to feel alive—perhaps creating a new dream that they want to achieve sooner rather than later. Despite the cut-and-dry approach to the production alongside the briefness that can leave the back half feeling less stellar as a result, the melodies that July XIV puts into have some invigorating moments, and the lyrical arc that observes and reflects one’s own hardships and yearning to hold on to better things have sharp details that are worth looking into. Hunger as an album might be a double-edged sword, keeping everyone who has waited for this album to feel satisfied on one side but also leaving too much empty space on the other. Yet, when the album does hit its stride – an exceptional one at that – it leaves us hungry for so much more. Support the art & the artist:
Category: ALBUMS
EP REVIEW: Austri – the place where birds meet
Written by Anika Maculangan The place where birds meet, Austri’s first official EP release, takes one on a roadtrip across SLEX, through every province, with no destination in mind. It’s the stops at gas stations, piling up in the 7-eleven, and camping out at the back of the car, that tracks like “Circling” reminds us of. Purely acoustic, with the undertone of ambient tonalities, this is Austri’s initial venture into making music of his own. Once just making covers of Elliot Smith’s “Between the Bars” and The Microphones’ “My Roots are Strong and Deep”, it seems so that Austri has taken it upon himself to try his hand at finding his own original sound. His discovered sound, as demonstrated in this EP, is melodically tame, exemplifying a tender and gentle temperament. Perhaps still a bit demure and modest, from being the introduction to hopefully, many more music to come. Austri’s vocals, crisp and mellow, are able to counteract the deep essence of the lyricism. “Learn to live but first learn to die” he sings in “Thousand Winds,” which evoke the rest of the EP’s blithe and carefree nature. Austri takes risks in this EP, especially when it comes to the honesty he brings forth in his music. In the build-ups that progress to grander compositions, Austri links his folkish tendencies to more of an indie pop disposition. In this harmony of warm cadence and soft inflections of resonance, there is reference to the migration of birds — how they never stick to the same place, and are constantly moving from one place to another. In a similar sense, we too, humans, have this penchant for change. As time goes by, we find ourselves at different places, depending on where the wind takes us. In this EP, this is what Austri seeks to make us realize. It’s the wooden plaque or wall decal you’ll see somewhere, trying to pull you into being motivated and inspired again. Something that says life is a journey or whatnot, that feels cheesy at the moment, but holds its own true merits. Who knows, maybe in that moment, you actually did need the reminder, and you were only too stubborn to see it for its genuine validity. This project feels personal and intimate, and for Austri to confide in his listeners, feels like a special privilege of sorts, as we hold the key to this secret garden. It’s a kindred level of frankness we can also garner from other artists such as the likes of Adrienne Lenker and Phoebe Bridgers.The place where birds meet is an insightful look into what it might look like from above, from a bird’s eye view. It brings into perspective how things may appear on a larger scale, when looking at the bigger picture. For someone making their debut, this is the exact enthusiasm they may need to keep that ambition going. In Austri’s case, the sound of trees rustling and birds chirping somewhere in a wheat field is what incites his creative engines to turn. Though a subtly calm setting, this environment is what brings out these profound introspections from Austri’s end, unleashing a candid and sincere collection of songs. What The place where birds meet brings to the table is simple and light accents of sound which we need more of these days, most especially during these typhoon-ridden times. It’s home, it’s refuge, it’s a passage away from the noise. Support the art & the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: Fax Gang + Parannoul – Scattersun
Written by Louis Pelingen When reaching a sense of stability, there is no doubt that it’s sometimes a fleeting moment, a feeling that provides meditation and strength just before everybody has to push forward to the next phase of tension in their lives. On the last projects that Fax Gang and Parannoul have put out, this does ring true as they take a lot more effort to embrace the sense of the calm before the storm: Fax Gang offers more openly brighter melodies and textures on Dataprism and Parannoul moving away from the aghast distorted perks of his debut as he takes more dreamy wistfulness on After The Magic. So now that they’re both under Topshelf Records, the possibility of working once again since their collaboration on the last track of Dataprism feels like a star that can be reached, where the light keeps on burning brightly. And it sure does, as on Scattersun, Fax Gang and Parannoul merge their varying worlds in absolute delight. Within this project, Fax Gang and Parannoul’s musical chemistry bounces off in a way that resonates with their strengths as they leap off into various characteristics that morph into their own being – all filled with post-rock crescendos, eclectic sound design, distinctive production palette, and amorphous genre swervings that Fax Gang and Parannoul just makes it all work. Riding these risky musical ideas that both acts are willing to do, and create an exciting endeavor where those risks are rewarded tremendously, intersecting their creative worlds where they know which parts of their ideas will work and proceed to experiment even further outside of their comfort zone that also manages to stick the landing in a remarkable fashion. ‘Double Bind’ showcases this toast of ideas clearly, with the first half lurking within the familiar bit-crushed soundscape from Fax Gang with PK Shellboy’s vocals rummaging through that chaos, just before it slowly and sleekly transitions to the usual fractured distortion from Parannoul’s part on the back half that also has a jersey club rhythm implemented within, displaying familiar pieces of sound that work around with newer facets of experimentation. This experimentation continues further all across the project, from ‘Quiet’ where PK Shellboy joins within the crisp and bulky alt-rock palette that’s clearly Parannoul’s signature wheelhouse but is wrapped around with warping synths, ‘Lullaby for a Memory’ with the jaunty array of rapid organic breakbeats, wistful synth progressions, and galloping crescendos that spearthrows itself into the skies, ‘Wrong Signal’ where the warbling production creates a cacophonous black hole for Mudd the student of Balming Tiger and PK Shellboy to break through with anxious performances just before the production clears up into a danceable but still suffocating beat, ‘Circular Motion’ takes a mellower tone where both PK Shellboy and Parannoul’s vocals are cushioned within the spare lilting synths and chalky percussion that eventually collapses into a charged EDM instrumental passage that bolts to the end of the song, and ‘Soliloquy’ may as well be the absolute charming cut from album – filled with glorious melodic progressions that can fit into a rhythm game song selection as the sweeping drums and synths glimmer before it cracks and dishevels as it moves along, even adding a random jazz sample that swivels into the cut’s last ecstatic chorus. And even despite ‘Ascension’ and ‘Scattersun’ paling off for different reasons – with the first song that could’ve expanded upon its harmonies and the second song that could’ve sharpened parts of its transitions and melodies, they still manage to land with aplomb as the former cut’s fleeting calmness creaks from its fuzzy textures that never overshadow the performances of every vocalist – gatka’s soothing vocals especially – and the latter cut’s attempt on creating a 10-minute plugging, cloud rap, and drill epic is nothing short of impressive in just going along on that idea and just making it happen. This overall scale is also reinforced within the writing of the record, taking a grand leap as Fax Gang and Parannoul return back into exploring humanistic existential dread that they find themselves lurking within, all with an embrace of abstract metaphors that expound the exhausting emotions even more. There is a desperation to cling to the brighter future that they try to reach as much as possible even despite all the murk that keeps on piling up more and more each day, intensifying the anxious dread that they want to avoid for their sake. Yet it is an attempt of avoidance that they cannot do successfully anymore, especially with the doomed tone displayed on cuts like ‘Wrong Signal’ where internet doom-scrolling will continue to display the destructive parts of reality that they can’t risk to not care about anymore. Thus, it overall colors the bleak aspects within these deeper reflections, whether that be having to mature and moving past their inner child on ‘Lullaby for a Memory’, reaching out to friends and trying to help them out even if they themselves are dealing with their own struggles on ‘Ascension’, and just how accepting a defeatist mindset due to the constant effects of isolation, aging, and ennui in this devastating world soon collapses upon ‘Scattersun’, the darkest cut in the album as there is a realization where the process of reflecting through these harrowing moments don’t seem to make sense anymore and is easier to just find some release in self-harm – a dour thought that’s compounded from the continuous wallowing that pushes everybody else away, and leaves them struggling with not knowing who they are anymore. Eventually concluding on the aptly titled ‘Circular Motion’ as the null in this negative state of mind will persist, a stillness that may never be broken apart where loneliness seems to be the only relief for all of this. As a whole, there is an astoundment that swings around Scattersun and all of its elements. A collaboration that tries to break out of their comfort zone where Fax Gang and Parannoul embrace their wildly varied musical components and
ALBUM REVIEW: Munimuni – Alegorya
Written by Louis Pelingen 5 years after its release, Kulayan Natin is quite the impressive musical landmark for the quintet band Munimuni. Not just because of the breadth of melodic phrasing and comfortable aura that it provides, but the fact that Munimuni was able to put their spin on progressive folk in the local scene and push the sound a little further where the rustic compositions unfold in a fascinatingly majestic fashion that allows the beauty of the emotional resonance from the poetry and performances to captivate with aplomb. However, the band has experienced bumps on the road, taking a needed hiatus due to the isolating lockdown in 2020 and TJ de Ocampo leaving after the band’s comeback in 2021. Since then, the band has taken their time to ruminate what had transpired beforehand as they carefully kept putting more songs on the road as well as adding their new member Ben Ayes in 2023 to contribute more flourish to the band’s instrumental beauty. All of this culminates in the long-awaited sophomore album of Munimuni, Alegorya, and how it mostly retains the progressive tapestries that are usually filled with wondrous melodic swells and buildups that end in fantastic quality, courtesy of the delicate array of woodwinds and acoustics that are twinkling as ever. But there is a shift in the compositions and performances this time around. Adj Jiao’s singing tries to push his vocals in more expressive ranges to pair off with the compositions that have more groove and textures taken from modern indie rock which makes the melodies more tasteful in their direction to go for more immediate swerves, a direction that can become a double-edged sword, especially when the production makes the textures and mixing bit too modestly pristine and tame for its own good and the melodic stripes all across the album may carry some of their usual dynamic progressive tapestries but don’t have the same impactful heft that the band managed to pull together back on their debut album. It doesn’t mean the band doesn’t carry it well enough as they still create flickers of melodic charm. The lilting air of “Sikat ng Araw” is soothing as the vocal harmonies, blurry guitars, and winsome flute melodies are soaked with a warm aura around it, Adj’s vocals build the sense of assured realization as he picks up more bombast on Alegorya, the layered melodic progressions on “Paraiso” successfully leads up to the frenetic solo guitar melody careening off at the end, the overwhelming instrumental freakout on “Alpa” is a welcome surprise as it slowly composes itself before it soars up to the skies with an ecstatic blaze, and the spare acoustics and flutes gliding around Adj Jiao and Barbie Almalbis’ gorgeous vocal harmonies on “Tupa” are terrific even if it could’ve been extended so the string section can have more presence to add more emotional swell to their harmonies instead of being used to accent the atmosphere at the very end of the song. The emotions that were written in the poetry also took a flip as well. Unlike the comforting tones that were embedded all across their debut, this album generally delves into musings of frustration and melancholy. Emotions that put the band in a state of creative burnout on “Respeto’, which eventually leads to the subsequent pieces of writing to feel like an exploration within that gloomy space, providing an introspection towards understanding the range of emotional raft in addition to the existential reflection towards love, life, and identity. All of these are tied together through the imagery of a cave that may serve as the metaphorical personal journey of the band’s introspective process, one that allows the insight and realization to parse through their mind but can also become a limit when it becomes a hideaway that never allows them to move past that melancholy. Yet, amidst all of that sorrow, there is still a consistent cling on yearning to the aspect of love, a presence that despite all odds, gives them hope to move on forward to that dark abyss and come out feeling much better at the end. Creating an emotional throughline that does have its resonance, yet the use of details and imagery could’ve been pushed forward, allowing the moving quality to be intensified as there are spots in the lyricism where the simplistic phrasings don’t exactly support the internal emotional insight that the performances and compositions try to sell. Moving into and out of the darkness, Alegorya pivots around with its sound, performances, and writing to create reflective pieces of the personal struggle that the band works through, pieces that eventually hold together when the specks of melodies and writing manage to stick the landing. As much as parts of the compositions open up the emotions to poignant places, the exploration of this pathos is less stellar, where the production, poetry, and progressions have a semblance of restraint that hides that poignancy rather than open it up much more. The allegory of this journey may be well-defined, but there is a hushness that keeps the feelings from echoing astoundingly. Support the art & the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: FERVIDS – SONIC BOOM
Home to some of the spiciest dishes in Philippine cuisine and the beautifully shaped Mount Mayon, Bicol’s music scene is just as hot and active, with many names making strides from within and beyond their home province; DWTA, for example, has seen major success as of late, going as far as making it to the 2024 Wanderland Music Festival’s lineup. Bicol’s success in cultivating a vibrant music culture can be attributed to the efforts of its many community-based art collectives that are constantly ideating and collaborating to produce high-caliber releases and events that give Bicol its formidability as a producer of some of the best local artists in the larger music ecosystem. One such collective is Legazpi City’s Children of the Mist. Fervids is one of the major players under Children of the Mist. This young and exuberant rock band is no stranger to explosive live sets – no matter the distance – and their sophomore album SONIC BOOM embodies that destructiveness down to the T. It is not the first time we at The Flying Lugaw have set our eyes and ears on Fervids. In my initial review of the band’s material (see: TFL’s review of “SWEET TOOTH ACHIN’”), though middling, I saw potential – one that they have not yet fully embraced but the traces of it they had already worn on their sleeves. I was excited. Now, with a full blues rock-inspired album in their catalog, stage notoriety among the Manila crowd following an electrifying performance in TFL’s 2023 anniversary gig (Damn, if their set doesn’t get you going, then I don’t know what will), newfound inspiration from different styles of garage rock, and sharper songwriting experience in their toolkit, Fervids has never been more exciting. As exciting as it comes, though, the band does not immediately let on with their new style, as “SONIC BOOM” was teased with “ANNIHILATION” as some sort of a sequel or a spiritual successor to their self-titled debut album: a riff-heavy hard tune that draws primarily from the British Invasion era of classic rock. Even in the mastering of the album, this trend is evident. It isn’t until the third track ‘TRUE’ that their influences from modern contemporaries begin to flourish. This progression makes for an enjoyable listening experience, as “SONIC BOOM” is filled with banger tracks in this confluence of styles, each waiting to ignite. “THE VAMP AND THE SHEIKH” is a good example of a song that takes classic rock as the prominent element and elevates it to match the wavelength the band operates on. The result is something that Pete Townshend would approve of: a constant flow of kinetic energy pushing harmoniously against each other, and a sweet guitar solo from Andre you can never go wrong with. “I WANT YOU ALL THE SAME” operates similarly to “THE VAMP AND THE SHEIKH,” serving as Fervids’ take on a power ballad. This time, garage rock takes the driver’s seat. “EGO’S GRAVE” is easily the best track on “SONIC BOOM” and arguably in Fervids’ entire library thus far, only behind ‘Foolish Notion’. One of the few instances where the band donned a punk veil, “EGO’s GRAVE” shows Fervids going back to the drawing board and throwing out the window a lot of the things that made the band the renowned Bicolano blues-rock sensation they were known for. As a result, they made a song that was so emotional and dramatic despite its simplicity that it’s almost criminal that it only lasted for a little over two minutes. Its aggression almost reminds me of Comedown Machine. SONIC BOOM is a product of Fervids’ unwavering authenticity. Though it may have carried some of the characteristics that I marked as criticisms in my review of “SWEET TOOTH ACHIN’” two years ago, they are definitely working in their favor now. And given their prestige as some of the most electrifying young bands in the underground live scene today, each new song will only add more to their growth. But as tempting as it is to draw a connecting line between their growth and the evident success of SONIC BOOM as a rock album, there’s another comforting thought that I’d like to believe in. I want to believe that SONIC BOOM is Fervids’ way of proving us wrong. For thinking that wearing their influences on their sleeves would be to their detriment. For doubting them the first time around and showing us that their methods work, like the rock stars that they are. Support the art & the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: Amateurish – A gentle reminder to rest
Baguio is quickly becoming the new source of music in the Luzon archipelago, birthing the likes of Dilaw and Turncoats. From the most unexpected of places comes a new entry into the math rock/emo/pop punk ring: Amateurish. Don’t let the name fool you, they are nothing but. With tight instrumentation and relatable lyrics, the quintet hailing from the mountains of Baguio has made a name for themselves by blending elements of math, emo, and pop into an addictive sugar rush that comes with a post-rush emotional downer. A lot of math rock and pop punk influences are used throughout the album – notably in the single releases – but also some alternative and funk sprinkled in to keep the listening experience fresh, specifically in some acoustic parts in the title song towards the end. The rollercoaster of emotionscoversr a plethora of feelings such as indifference, heartbreak, depression, and resilience with heavy metaphorical drug references – each song providing an intense but quick dosage of each emotion in each song. This places the title track as a fitting end to the whole experience: a somber reminder of getting back to reality and rest. The band’s recent signing to Offshore Music is a well-deserved milestone for the band. They are currently planning a multi-stop tour to promote the release and is a no-brainer for any avid music fan; their live performances are a sight to behold. One thing is for sure, though – they are not amateurs. Support the art & the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: U-Pistol – Last Splinter
Written by Louis Pelingen A decade after he first popped up in the local music scene, Zeon Gomez has worn many masks under his belt through the multitudes of projects and collectives that he has worked on and contributed with, overall showcasing him as a jack of all trades within the local musical circles, namely his other side project Promote Violence; bands like Rome and the Cats, Moon Mask, Spirit Ocean; and collectives like YoungLiquidGang, and BuwanBuwanCollective. Through these jumping points that Zeon has taken from differing acts after another, an important part that needs to be acknowledged is that even as he flits across various side-projects, his knack for venturing within the waves of gleaming synth electronica, stirring pop melodies, and personal lyrical flair has always carried over, developed further under his main musical alias: U-Pistol. Through his first two albums in the 2010s, his ambition to embrace those characteristics above is shown in their clearest sights, not to mention the features spanning from Sarah Bonito, Aseul, Yikii, and others that reveal his firm stance towards curating Asian artists as he was deeply invested with J-Pop, K-Pop, and C-pop during the time. While he hasn’t donned that mask quite often in the 2020s as he slowly starts working behind the scenes through the music prod Kashira, his growth as an artist over time hints at a sonic shift waiting to happen, especially with his embrace of hip-hop under the U-Pistol and Promote Violence namesakes. 8 years since he put out his last material, Last Splinter is the 3rd long-awaited installment under U-Pistol’s discography, careening through sonic foundations that he propped up in his past projects like “Waste” and “Girlfriend,” but the overall showcase of his brand of synth gleaming electronica has now matured, branching off into an evolved version of his style. Underneath the glassy synth works are an array of elements that create a genre-shifting project where past aspects of his past projects now manifest here, further bringing in blaring guitars and shuffling rhythms that only hone in U-Pistol’s great strength towards creating snappy hip-hop and pop melodies amidst propulsive production within the project’s 35-minute runtime. His performances on ‘Glass Garden’ and ‘Hortensia’ in particular are remarkable, his mellifluous range as he silkily flows across the feet-shuffling soundscape of the former and tenderly sings on the somber acoustics of the latter shows that he has exceeded as a rapper and a singer. Of course, it’s not a U-Pistol project without a collage of collaborations helping out in this project, settling more towards the local music scene, an intended decision that gets reflected through a specific part of the eventual narrative. Fellow Kashira prod members like Calix and Tatz Maven help crystallize a lot of the colorful instrumental soundscapes as well as the sonic clarity of the project; Hanako and Syn under the old Spirit Ocean band lend their vocals, where Hanako’s prim voice assists on the tuneful albeit instrumentally clunky “Blue-Eyed Grass” and Syn’s stark performance on the reworked version of a previously released Spirit Ocean track “Marigold, in the Afternoon” with additional guitar work from Arkyalina carries the exhausted yearning of the track; VS VIDEOTAPES’ and yx2’s co-production on the light and fuzzy textures of “VS VIDEOTAPES INTERLUDE” and the jersey club groove of “Plum Blossom” respectively are exciting additions that manages to blend within the consistent production scope of the album, allowing the melodies to bounce and fizz a bit more; SHNTI’s sense of effortless cool works in-tandem with U-Pistol’s sleek flows on “Wisteria” and its scratchy beat as “Wilting, if Forever Never Comes” tailors the thematic arc of the project. The sense of maturation eventually sneaks through in the overall narrative of the project. Conceptualized around the masked man in his glass garden waiting for a certain flower to bloom that acts as a metaphor for U-Pistol’s self-isolation post-break-up, it paints a familiar theme that he has waded upon on his past projects. Namely surrounding the wilted romance that he still yearns and clings to, a connection that he wishes to keep sparking despite knowing that the ex in question now has somebody else entirely. It’s a situation that leaves him conflicted and hurt, the angst pulling him deeper and deeper into melancholy. Yet as the album progresses, he gently picks up past the heartbreak and eventually decides to leave the entire situation as he notices that there’s no benefit in waiting for that flower to bloom. It’s a vivid arc that U-Pistol portrays effortlessly, yet the personal emotional nuance is deepened a little bit further, specifically directed toward the collaborations he pulled in for this project. In ‘The Chained Man Inside the Glass Garden’ interlude specifically, there are these various murmurs from multiple people that call out to Zeon, expressing worry towards his state of ennui, asking him to hang out and telling him if he’s feeling alright. These voices that were heard don’t come from strangers but are the friends, collaborators, and various people that Zeon knew and bonded with personally in his life, placing their overall presence in this specific interlude as an acknowledgment of the support that Zeon has during this eventful turmoil and seeing him not through the U-Pistol name and his various musical works, but under Zeon as the person that they know and care about deeply. It’s a small moment that does so much, recognizing the number of people that Zeon cares about as he acknowledges how much they’ve helped him back in his life, overall making the collaborations of this project feel so much more personally heartfelt and synergistic. And with that comes the project’s overall blast of sonic mixtures and a case of strong foundations embellished with the well-placed blending of sound textures, styles, and performances from U-Pistol & co paired with neatly arranged compositions and familiar yet deeply invested emotional throughline. As U-Pistol leaves outside of that glass garden, there is another field that opens more space for him to flourish in. Last Splinter
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:
ALBUM REVIEW: Memory Drawers – Memory Drawers
Written by Faye Allego Picture this: It’s 2014, your entire personality is based on photos of succulents with a VSCO app filter that is reblogged on your Tumblr page, a poster of Unknown Pleasures hanging by a thread (in this case, tape that has lost its purpose of sticking on the wall above your bed), and your element of mystique is buried with every emotion that bedroom music playlist makes you feel. Although the pleasure of being an angsty, indie-music-centered-teenager back then is a well-known phenomenon, Memory Drawers seems to bring back that unique feeling of individuality and whimsicality in their long-awaited debut album. It goes without saying that this album perfectly fits in the dreamscape milieu of Indie Pop. The lyrics, composed by Kevin Ingco and Paula Castillo, read like a prologue to a retrospective novel about one’s memories of youth that were never to be just written in a diary tucked away in a drawer. Found in the final couplet of Lovingly, Andrea Alegre sings: “Didn’t think, didn’t think I’d hear a word/ Said ‘There’s nothing left for me, in this world, in this world.” This alone uses repetition in a way that isn’t – for lack of a better word – repetitive to hear. This track along with others such as Luuv and Esc Esc Esc feels like changing the color of my laptop’s cursor to black and opening a blank document to write whatever I want at the expense of depression and for the sake of expression. However, I find myself asking if every track creates cohesion to the album and builds an overall narrative, or if it is just a polished compilation of their past, tempting the listener for upcoming endeavors that may sound even better in that said dreamscape milieu. Nearly a decade has passed by since Hart found its way as the first track of Memory Drawers. The original version first appeared on SoundCloud and was later revamped to fit the precision found in Ingco’s mixing, and the mastering by Diego Mapa. The same can be said for the following track, Maybe, originally released in 2016. I hesitated at the thought of these songs resurrecting on the debut album instead of leaving them as hidden gems to be found on their own. The last track, …For Any Of This, was also previously released as a single but now acts as a beautiful epilogue through its upbeat nature that makes you feel like you’re knee-deep into the night; as if Ingco and Castillo along with Alegre’s voice planted a Whomping Willow that would later produce seeds for a mystifying glowing Willow throughout all these years (not to mention the album art looks like a tree’s growth rings). This is the “upcoming endeavor” I mentioned earlier. Indeed, I yearn to hear more.