Written by Elijah P. The romanticization of the “universe” or the “universal” depends on the current conditions of the artist. Whether or not you come from a higher place in the Alps or from ground-level urban areas, this “universe” the artist is pertaining to might be a bubble that hasn’t burst yet. And this bubble we’re talking about is “Sansinukob”, a 6-track debut project from the fast-rising 5-piece outfit Dilaw. Coming from the province of Benguet, the then-Baguio duo of Dilaw has now expanded into a full unit, equipped with extra members to solidify their tighter material. What is left of Dilaw Obrero’s quips and qualms on the higher-ups and government officials made room for more material and slightly tolerable material about love, the galaxy being yours, or just being yourself in general. “Sansinukob” is an exhibition of Dilaw’s lyrical prowess and powerful stage presence both live and on record. With the title track suddenly showing its sudden double-time tempo right smack dab in the middle of the track, there’s experimentation sitting right in the bridges of Dilaw’s structures. The band isn’t a backing band; they’ve brought heavy and tighter skill to the table, and it goes without saying that the band has a lot to show other than their chief singer-songwriter. In “3019” and “Kaloy”, Dilaw ping-pongs aggressively back-to-back in tracks with the former talking about corruption (the numbers at the title literally mean Republic Act 3019, The Anti-Graft and Corrupt Practices Act) and the former taking the perspective of an individual on a downward spiral due to the surroundings affecting them. Both of these tracks sit right in the middle of the EP, making almost no connections or storyline threading to the previous title track, making not one but two sore thumbs stick out in the project. “Maskara” suffers the same fate as the two conscious rap tracks: defanging the biting power an artist has to call an initiative to go against the grain and demand for change. And now we get to the popular track — arguably the most popular track of the now — “Uhaw”. Backed by a ton of guitar licks, Obrero’s shivering and quivering journey for love. This shows that Obrero and company can write actual semi-ballads with no unnecessary tongue-twisting verses. But the need to have two versions in the same EP is cashing in on the hype, shamelessly including both the same songs just to reactivate some streaming numbers. Neither the defense of having two versions for narrative purposes barely helps in making “Sansinukob” any better. This isn’t a multiverse the MCU wants in terms of bringing two songs of the same feather. If anything, Dilaw’s shown so much impressive technical skill. Whether we like it or not, the band has the muscle and brain to think of cleverly written guitar lines, drum breaks, floating synths, and groovy basslines. However, there are songs that work to the rest of the song’s detriment, including the precious hitmaker. The EP is basically just “Uhaw” and friends. There’s nothing wrong with admitting that the EP is only in the public consciousness for That One Song. However, in what seems to be the most laughable twist of fate, the universe has a way of responding to its namesake. The band does not have the soul to breathe life to anything more than “Uhaw” Again, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with being a one-trick pony. However, for all its neighs and whinnies, this horse came out limping. Support the art and the artist:
Category: EPs / MIXTAPES
EP REVIEW: LORY – Cramped
Written by Elijah P. Terno Recording’s wunderkind Lory has stepped out of his comfort zone from being a lone bedroom pop producer from Parañaque to becoming a full blown three-piece with added layers in the mix. In his latest EP “Cramped”, you get to see Mikee Mendoza becoming more lethargic-sounding, scooping all the gruff and making his surroundings a bit louder, albeit a bit rougher than usual. He’s grown to unlike the pop fluff and embrace much of the textures. It’s almost getting there, it just needs a little stir in the pot. In other words, Lory and his friends just need a little bit of spoiled choices in soundscapes rather than choose to spoil the party entirely in reflection of past material. “Cramped” is treated as a sampler to Mikee’s next endeavors for his solo project rather than a bookend to his phase of city pop. Moving on to greater and bigger soundscapes rather than staying in the four corners of his room, you have tracks like “Huli Na Ba Kayo”, “Di Siguro” and “The Sun” embracing all the noise and continuously experimenting what he can do as a musician. Is the EP an “achievement” of sorts? Listeners would doubt its pop resonance and bright textures and would possibly question its length, but “Cramped” is more of an intentional practice of sorts. In “Slow Down”, you’ll be surprised by how this sounds like it should stay from the previous EP. Confidence is what is lacking in Mikee’s presence and maybe a bit of a looser and more liberating use of vocal filters to make Mikee’s voice shine as well as his lead guitars. But as his deadpan delivery persists in the latter half of the EP, the voice becomes a grower in a sense where Mikee’s voice does shine if you look at it in a more uncharismatic-charismatic lens. LORY’s “Cramped” has its ups and downs but to the project’s benefit, the reception is enough to not dismiss the project entirely for the lack of trying and enthusiasm being brought. There are guitar lines and synths being put to good use and maybe “Cramped” is seen better as Mikee’s ground zero compared to what the debut project was at the dawn of the post-lockdown last year. Support the art and the artist:
EP REVIEW: Disco Mobile Service – You’re Here Now
Written by Louis Pelingen Sometimes, we wonder what has changed with the places we missed visiting beforehand. We wonder if these places still end up today, if there is a change of tone and presence in the familiar paths and sceneries we always encapsulate in our minds so many times. Did these places, even if met with the chance of being abandoned, still hold up their gentle images to poke our unnerved spirits within sociopolitical events breaking us all apart? For Disco Mobile Service aka Jomied Armancio hailing from Visayas, he aims to form a record that collages samples to compose a tropical dystopian soundtrack for the country given political events that gets harrowing at every turn. It was an idea that he eventually worked on in 2022, moving past the universal mental anxieties most of us have gone through during pandemic lockdowns and steadily working his way to finally put out his first ever project under Disco Mobile Service, ‘You’re Here Now’. In this EP, Disco Mobile Service records still memories, and fragmented ambiance from environments he himself visited, and constructs sonic frameworks around it to formulate said tropical dystopian soundscape. Disco Mobile Service wanders around with this framework with measured ambient dub and downtempo, his compositions never snapping apart immediately and opting to modulate in and out of the sonic scope. ‘Eyesocket’ opens up its observations of this muted concept, the thumping tropical beat marches through as recordings of foggy birdsong are enveloped with these hypnotic synth swells. ‘New Forest Exit’ lurks further in the undergrowth of tactile and grainy field recordings as the dour synths drone through the song. The tempered percussion lines linger and rumble alongside spare yet gleaming keys combat that dourness within the forest of fleeting recordings. ‘Concrete’ ends the EP in its most ominous, waves of noise fogging the start before pillars of worrying synths wash over the track. The drum beat composed of tropical percussion and digital drums consistently stomps all the way through, paving its way through drops of conversations and beeping vehicles as it toughens up its rhythm lines, ending the EP where that propulsive beat lives through the dystopian view of the record. Despite a few instrumental passages that do jitter the flow of a few of these songs, ‘You’re Here Now’ is a statement of affirmation of where we are now currently after a myopic past few years. It reinstates our inner emotions in the present, viewing the rips and pieces of the past that we collected and remembered in our kaleidoscopic memory. It is ominous how Disco Mobile Service utilizes atmosphere and modulation in his compositions. But even with the dystopia that surrounds this EP, that trudging beat reminds all of us that even with the crushing state of the country at large and the environment that we thought to have changed for the worse, we are now wrapped with coats of comfort despite casted shadows that reminds us how much it’ll get uncomfortable in the future. Support the art & the artist: [bandcamp width=350 height=470 album=2609554962 size=large bgcol=ffffff linkcol=0687f5 tracklist=false]
EP REVIEW: Lil JVibe – WHOLE LOTTA LUVSHIT
Written by Elijah P. Lil JVibe’s “WHOLE LOTTA LUVSHIT” without a shadow of a doubt, has transcended the level of pop rap songwriting to the point that it’s impossible to retrace back to the days of piano-led “love rap” that was prominent in underground DIY hip-hop music in the mid to late 2000s in the Filipino music scene. But before we proceed to the conclusion, for past edgelords and terminally online historians, Lil JVibe aka Joven David used to be the subject of memes back in 2016 for simply showing the moves inside of an unnamed 7-Eleven branch somewhere in the urban parts of Metro Manila. From the Chris Brown-isms of his dance moves to the sudden transformation of Sample Drill from New York and Jersey Club rapper, Lil JVibe came out of the scene like a torpedo and he managed to hit every single target in the pop rap iceberg. “WHOLE LOTTA LUVSHIT” is the debut project we’ve never asked for but it is the debut project that we do need in this day of age. As much as the topic of sampling and rehashing ideas such as singing along to the chorus of your favorite pop songs is concerned, Joven does it so earnestly to the point that it doesn’t act to his detriment, but rather he gains from it exponentially; literally every track on the project such as “Prince Say” sampling Taylor Swift’s Love Story or “Hip o Thighs”, sampling Hypnotized by Plies and A-kon has ascended to a different level of existence. This goes without saying that Gem Productions’ hands-on work is nothing short of amazing. With the current soundscapes popping in and out, Joven slides across those beats almost flawlessly. There’s an unloading of unrequited feelings and there’s melodic longing all over in this project and those specific elements are home to no complaints. Lil JVibe’s “WHOLE LOTTA LUVSHIT” acts like a mixtape done with the literal meaning of labor of love and an untapped skill more rappers nowadays shouldn’t be scared of doing.
EP REVIEW: Mei Teves – /’hidn/
Written by Elijah P. Catanduanes is a scenic town, full of vibrant shorelines, tranquil surroundings, and peaceful towns. You have natural talents coming from the small towns and cities, like in Virac – a 76,000+ population where they’ve had a history with several datus and colonized areas, giving the island character besides its idyllic beaches. However, there’s a sense of vibrance provided by their own homegrown talent, Mei Teves. By way of San Juan, Teves brands themselves as a simple school student, waiting for the campus crush to arrive before the bell rings and the human psyche brought by the pressure of their current upbringing. As makata pop takes a step back from the meantime, Teves relishes in the spectacle of storytelling flipping the script by deepening the narrative-driven singing. There’s a sense of wonder when you look closely at Teves’ songwriting, especially when you take a look at their Wishcovery performances, they’ve dug deep below the surface to explore darker themes, establishing themselves as one of the songwriters to look out for post-lockdown. Teves’ debut EP “/’hidn/” capitalizes on that spectacle of storytelling sung in intimate acoustic guitar, except they’re more optimistic, surprisingly lighter than their previous material showcased in Wish 107.5. This is a far cry from the yawps, from the theatricality that is “Sino Ang Baliw” or the cry-for-help intimacy of “Pakialam”. Instead, we got bossa nova influences of “Wala Lang” or the easygoing folk-pop of “Pangalan” and the ecstatic, grandiose “Senpai, Notice Me” – the last track that acted as a bonus track for how alienating it is for their audience to hear Teves’ channel their anime simpery. “/’hidn/” is a light exercise to Teves’ songwriting chops, whether or not they could shy away from the usual, heavier themes that are displayed in the Wish 107.5 performances, but this is the complete opposite of what the others wanted, the EP is a result of an artist playing-it-safe. A Happy Meal in the middle of an apocalypse; The wildcard seemingly giving their 100% but the sonic palette feels lacking; There’s a lightness to the bite that Teves used to bring to the table, especially when the EP drags midway, there’s little to no specialty besides Teves’ impressive voice twirling across the strings. Overall, “/’hidn/” might be Teves’ foray into different adjacent genres or soundscapes they want to travel to, but instead, we got something else entirely and the result was middle on the ground all the way. Nothing special as the EP ends. SUPPORT THE ART & THE ARTIST:
MIXTAPE REVIEW: O $IDE MAFIA – O COAST
Written by Elijah P. The breaking news is what generates speculation and tension. We as terminally online human beings couldn’t resist the verification through live media. Normally one’s curiosity peaks at an all-time high when it’s game time. But a 3-minute “Freestyle” OMV and several provocative IG stories by a Malate-based trio were able to break the internet all over the hip-hop community; confirming that they are unfuckwithable. And that group turned out to be one of the most in-demand rap trios called O $ide Mafia. It wasn’t just game time for their members, namely Gee, Cashman, and Madman. It was game time for their entire district. After releasing bangers throughout the periods of lockdown in the country such as “Kinikilocs”, “Tokyo Drift”, “Yeah Hoe!” and their most recent hard hitter “Go Getta”, the trio have tested their haters by constantly releasing and proving themselves that they are hungry 24/7. Right around the corner are neighboring cities such as Pasay, Makati, and Quezon City. The group has reached a point where their hits have landed a collaboration with Laguna group Villa Mob, miles away than the usual 20-meter next-door kinship. Alongside the underground publicity O $ide Mafia was able to receive within the several months leading to their come up, their latest 5-track mixtape “O COAST” had a lot to say with regards to their current stature in the game, specifically for their de facto head honcho Cashman. Filled with verses that relate to their recent experience with the excess that comes with fame, gigs, and the urge to make content, Gee, Madman, and Cashman are equipped with the best resources at their disposal. “O COAST” to my surprise, is a tame project compared to their standalone singles. This doesn’t include the singles that were already out in the open in the past two years of their laborious string of releases. However, “Go Getta” is an easy contender for the best hook game of the year, wherein Cashman slides through every bar as if it were their DMs; “AMIGO” featured all three verses from the members, quietly scheme seamlessly in every syllable. “NO NET SHIT” is composed of one-liners that pinpoint the way of life as a hustler and effective code-switching. The darker edges of their sonic palette lurk around the production throughout the project. “Cold” is the operative word used by their producers Gee Exclsv and 808 Cash respectively, where their beats are led by simple nursery pianos plugins, and buzzing bass, and Gee’s unhinged flows are the highlight of each track, especially in tracks like “Go Getta” and “Cake”. But most of the pros in this mixtape aren’t really outweighing the issues in terms of consistency and overlapping themes of “O COAST”. O $ide Mafia have arguably emptied their tanks in terms of writing memorable hooks. Where we got loosies that aren’t included in the mixtape, we’re able to hear newer but minus the refreshing material. The listener got only a couple of smoky, calmer verses that rarely peak in each track. There’s rarely tension nor momentum built in any of these tracks, even though it’s embodied as a “mixtape”, you’d expect some sort of impulse of cohesion, but rather the mixtape felt slightly disjointed in terms of how slightly indifferent the other tracks sound production-wise. Overall, O $ide Mafia has showcased the new batch of tracks with an ample amount of promise and charisma. Cashman had the vocal presence, Gee had the production whiz and confidence, and Madman had precision and personality. This is enough to show that a mixtape like “O COAST” is a training ground for the relatively young group. SUPPORT THE ART & THE ARTIST:
EP REVIEW: Polyphonic Vision – Sudden Pictures
Written by Louis Pelingen The past 2 decades have seen a growing interest in artists using mostly instrumental motifs to archive downtime and the events that emerge in them. Strains of ambient music have touched upon these musings for quite some time now, but the emergence of certain electronic subgenres has done much more to delve deeper into this. Subgenres such as vaporwave and drone have explored musings of time, memory, and stasis of eras that have been forgotten and are clearing up the lens to find some appreciation for those stagnant, vintage stages of time. ‘That, alongside ambient music in the 2010s, has seen an emphasis on those concepts of time and decay, bringing along slowed-down samples, droning yet hypnotic melodies, and elongated track times to tell what needs to be said. It’s important to take note of these as they have been accompanied by the concept of liminal space and its own visual fragments of abandoned or even empty landscapes of places that all of us have commonly visited. It’s no wonder that the time of pure isolation brought about by COVID-19 in 2020 has elevated the concept of liminal space to the forefront, both in aesthetic and musical components. I bring all this up due to the fascinating debut EP from Polyphonic Vision, a synth-wave project from one-half of the dream pop duo Outerhope, Micaela Benedicto, as well as the mastermind of Big Hat Gang, Mario Consunji. The project came up during the isolation in the pandemic, the outputs now come out in a spontaneous burst, where the sonic snippets are pieced together during 2020 and 2021 and ready to be released for this year. ‘Sudden Pictures’ encaptures a holistic display of the past and the future in a time where the reflection of what was done before and what may happen after is now stuck in place. It’s an auditory mood board that wobbles through retro analog synthesizers, ethereal vocal recordings, and a soundscape that slowly modulates that relaxed yet contemplative mood for the entirety of its 22-minute runtime. It’s one whole trip to a fragmented memoir of memories, starting and ending off with instrumental murals like ‘Zoetrope’ and ‘Tides’, where the former track documents its purpose with its tapping fuzz of the percussion, the alluring echoing vocals, and the calming synth progressions, and the latter track tying things together with the layers of sweet analog synths that float amidst the stuttering percussion and cracking effects that entail the disintegration of those memories in the EP. Then there are the other tracks that frame its musings of memory with dreamy scopes. Starting from ‘Hemispheres’ with its pictures of cities and natural sceneries as Micaela’s shimmering vocals elicit the moments fading away from what she has seen and heard from those sceneries. It’s quite the dreamy song, with all of the cascading synth chimes balanced out with the whirring low-end and tapping drum patterns creating a relaxing mood. ‘Sudden Pictures’ focuses on the memories of someone that the protagonist still keeps, like a reel of film that pops out whenever they see them somewhere else either at close or far distances. That observation comes through with the cushions of gloss around the vocals and the background synths, accompanied by the layers of the quicker drum loops and deeper synth textures. ‘Submarine’ submerges itself into a slice of new wave, all with punchy percussive textures, blurry yet watery synth progressions, and levitating vocal melodies. Despite its watery imagery, it’s essentially an ode to the underground club scene and all the memories that we made and the people that we all meet there. It essentially archives what we have universally felt during the pandemic, reminiscing old memories, confronting past inner demons, as well as missing a sense of self as our social hubs have puffed for a while. However, with how the EP was made during the pandemic which is reflected even further in writing, the EP manages to hit an intriguing roadblock that has to do with oddly enough, timing. It’s a roadblock that specific instrumental projects like these have stumbled upon especially when they are also inspired by the thorns brought by the pandemic. Because as much as they have well communicated the fragments of memory through the ethereal, stabilized rhythms of the synths and vocal weariness, how it is going to age well in time and find resonance is a subjective and tangled discussion at best. Personally, it feels like a message that may possibly have been a lot more resonant if it was released during the isolation stages of the past two years. Because now that things are opening up and the lyricism focuses deeply towards reflections of memory and loneliness, it feels like a message that is sent two years late where with everything starting to open up, it personally makes the message feel less potent than it should be. It does not mean the EP has faults whatsoever. The ethereal waves of synths and vocals are composed with enough stable rhythms and loops to anchor the shards of memory and reflection that we all went through for the past two years. However, the passage of time has its funny way of letting us know of changes that we went through and our resonance with material focused on a specific event that this EP will have to go through. Because with 2022 opening up its walls, I wonder if this composed mood devised by the duo may work its peak of resonance during the time of isolation. Either way, the memories that the EP has captured still hold weight in a time when all of us are confronted to flip through pages of our past and contemplate through what may happen in our future, it’s just that, that resonance will be tested as time moves on. Listen to the artist:
EP REVIEW: medyo maybe – Porcelain People
Written by Elijah P. The Ilocos Region can rock everyone’s socks off. Yes, you read that right. The north side has something to say after all. Where the inflections of Will Toledo and the Boss Metal Zone guitar pedals rise from the collective bedroom and slide down their local sand dunes. It comes as no surprise that talent can come anywhere, everywhere. Enter medyo maybe – a solo project whose emotive sharpness is trained in Bandcamp and Soundcloud demos years prior to their latest release – is the indie rock sonic provider from Pangasinan out of all places. The 4-track EP is more than just a taste test. It’s a welcome party of all things influential for the songwriter, a love letter of sorts that span across the decade of 2010s indie treasure trove of guitar solos, freakouts, and all things emotionally direct diaristic lyricism. medyo maybe is ready in “Porcelain People”; no signs of any grazing rust, it’s promising beyond whatever jagged quality it had as long as the songwriter and their lead instrument make a great pair; it’s already made evident on the get-go that medyo maybe and their guitar is a dynamic duo. Tracks like “Don’t Ignore The Blame (Old Something Dies Hard)” drive the rhythms at a thrilling pace, and “Noiseless Noise Machine” has traces of noisy rock with familiar lines that resemble “Julie Tearjerky” at first glance, but the project distorts the iconic guitar line further with repetitive lines in the hook, making it something entirely theirs in the process, “Breaking The Plates” has synthetic synths and their lead vocalist sing in harmony across layers of riffages. This is only the start for medyo maybe and they’re going somewhere. SUPPORT THE ART & THE ARTIST:
EP REVIEW: SHNTI – ELMNT
Written by Louis Pelingen Ever since she started her career in 2019, LIAB Studios‘ very own SHNTI has been on her way to improving her skillset as a rapper and songwriter amidst her rise of success in subsequent years. Her laid-back delivery captures a sense of lowkey charm, a natural fit to her jumping points in lo-fi production that dips into jazz-rap soundscapes. Her melodic sensibilities are balanced out with loose flows, peppered with consistent rhyme schemes, flavorful wordplay, and honest writing that showcase the playfulness and introspection in the themes that are personal but are also resonant to a wider audience. These are the elements that she embraced ever since, and are working effectively well as she keeps on testing her limits as an artist. This year is a good year for her. Rerecording past songs from her increasing catalog is a sign of her growing confidence as a musician now showing through in spades. Additionally, provided that gigs are now available for face-to-face situations, it’s the right opportunity for SHNTI to put something out there, an anticipated debut project. And with ELMNT now released, it’s easy to say that the EP displays SHNTI’s artistic confidence in the best way imaginable. A collection of 6 tracks that nestles and branches out of SHNTI’s zone, embracing synth-inflected drum beats amidst lo-fi organic instrumentation that she smokes through effortlessly. Her signature relaxed vocals are prevalent, but they’re now oozing with an imposing attitude that was there before but is now refined, so far as standing out amidst the features in the EP. That attitude translates to her efforts as a songwriter, knitting together rhyme schemes and wordplay cohesively and attentively. In the 4 new tracks, SHNTI steps into the present, carrying an aura of confidence around her. “Bright” opens the EP with SHNTI shining through the airy synthscapes, additional backing and choir vocals, and pulsating grooves as she elevates herself and gives a middle finger on the past bonds that pulled her down. “ELMNT” lures you in as the addicting hook, snappy trap beats, and wobbly synth work are solid setups for SHNTI to just be in her element, allowing her slick flows along with clever wordplay to put her loose attitude to feel captivating, balancing out her garnered confidence with a self-aware discussion of fame and exhaustion. “Rhythm” displays her slickness into a flirty territory, her Doja Cat influence showing as she and Yorko’s playful and cheeky bars under punchy drums and pristine strings create a hazy and haughty seduction towards a woman that they’re into, a typically male-centric flirtatiousness that SHNTI steps into and makes it her own. And “YUH” featuring WAIIAN is the smokiest track on the record, reflecting upon their musicianship and how the criticism towards their work keeps them reaching for higher gains as their meandering flows slither around relaxed grooves and gloomy horn loops. While confident and strident, she looks back on 2 previously released tracks and polishes them to a new sheen, a reminder that she still puts introspection in the open. “Best Life” works through shuffling percussion aided by calming acoustic and bass guitar, allowing SHNTI’s laid-back flows to remind herself and everyone to not just live the best life, but put in the work to help other marginalized individuals have that same luxury. The EP eventually ends with “Could Be”, where the horn lines, textured percussion, and subtle bass, pianos, and strings swirl through SHNTI’s pensive musings of the realities of life. Realities that make her question existential thoughts, a question that she keeps repeating as the track glitches out, ending the EP abruptly. Personally, while it was an odd choice to put “Best Life” and “Could Be” on the tracklist at first more so based on worries that they might not fit in thematically and sonically. After a couple of listens later, however, they do deserve to be in this EP. Mostly because it reinforces the introspection that “ELMNT” and “YUH” provides, where “Best Life” sonically works as a cooldown before heading deep down into languid lo-fi jazz crannies of the last two tracks, and ‘Could Be’ acts as a great ending whose introspective questions linger past the EP, questions that may be answered sooner or later as SHNTI keeps on moving forward, as both an artist, and also as a human being. In short, I’ll admit that I’m trying to look so hard for any kind of nitpicks on this EP. But every time I look for anything to find flaws with, the elements in the varied instrumentation, balanced production, captivating performances and melodies, and deft writing just keeps snapping right back. And to quote SHNTI herself, she’s in her goddamn element, where the confidence that she built off for the past couple of years is paying off in great dividends. This is just her debut EP, and with the assured spirit that she has right now, I won’t be surprised if she keeps this streak up with a light that keeps on shining. Support the art & the artist:
EP REVIEW: Manic Mundane – Narrative Three
Written by Louis Pelingen I imagine that working on this EP has been the cathartic moment Manic Mundane needed. The stage name of Kath Dizon, she has been a musician for quite some time now, fronting a hardcore punk band during her college days in Iligan City, using the KTHDRLZ passion project during some time in the 2010s, as well as attending indietronica gigs during her stay in Dubai. But working as a PR executive during her 9-year stay in Dubai only exhausted her, deciding to return to her hometown in Mindanao in early 2020, where things get much worse with the start of the pandemic and her laptop that she used to produce music for five years eventually died out, leaving her with none of the drafts reserved for polish. But eventually, she has to start anew. And with Narrative Three, her debut EP as Manic Mundane – released under Melt Records – that fresh start is a relieving one. Right from the jump, the EP displays a set of tracks that are overflowing with colorful and layered instrumental textures courtesy of Sho Hiniko’s contribution to fleshing out the mixing of these tracks. Her vocals blend in with the sweeping synth-wave and electronica tracks, giving the soundscape its bombast with her upfront vocal tone. The EP has influences and similarities that make sense but also is surprising. Personally, there is a smattering of Let’s Eat Grandma and CHVRCHES from both the synth choices and the vocal tone that Manic Mundane uses, but her influences from Bjork and Grimes also make sense. The melodies don’t leap out immediately and take their time to get front and center. And when the melodies do flesh out and the cathartic lyrics bring out its impact, it really sticks with you. “Awake/Solitude” has this gothic tinge to the swarming synth patches that let itself push through along with the punchy drum loops and Manic Mundane’s gripping vocal melodies, effectively allowing the dire religious reflections to feel riveting. ‘Pavements’ immerses itself with splashes of reverberating synth work, pulsating percussion, soaring vocal melodies, and gleaming guitar chords from Mckie Alvarez of Filipino shoegaze band WYWY that lets loose for a blaring guitar solo that brings in all of the other elements to coalesce to a gratifying finish, mirroring the dramatic details of Manic Mundane’s decaying relationship with religion and the darkness that comes with it. “Spring Waves” ends the album in a positive light: the glittery synthesizers and thumping drums allow Manic Mundane’s uplifting vocals and lyrical details of love with dreamy affectations. While the production and the vocals are well done for the most part, there are times when the melodies just don’t have enough fullness to give their impact. “Astral Bodies” repeats its chorus like a mantra after the verse melodies, leaving the track underwhelming as it coasts through the glimmering instrumentation and lyrics of connection with a cosmic touch. While “Lover” with the shimmery synth textures and romantic refrains in the lyrics are pretty, the melodies themselves and the way they are structured make the flow of the song end up sloppy. There are aspects of the lyrics that feel quite dull and show Manic Mundane still growing as a songwriter. It does not mean it’s entirely bad, the religious and otherworldly details fit well when the instrumentation is this layered and the melodies give the themes of love and grappling against religion an immense impact. But the writing itself doesn’t find itself digging deeper into creative liberties, making the writing reliant on those religious, otherwordly aspects to stick. And if it’s not for those details, the writing could end up being uninteresting. But as a whole, Narrative Three is an EP where the catharsis can be found with flying colors where the instrumentation is full and textured, production that balances out all of its layered synth work, confident vocal performances from Manic Mundane, and strings of melodies that makes the extensive themes of love and religion to land effectively. But there are still flubs with the general writing of the lyrics as well as some songs where the melodies just don’t sweep the listener the way they should. Still, the best songs of the EP allow Manic Mundane’s ideas to leap away into something more, something where greatness will be found. Support the art & the artist: