Spelled in full caps, Singapore’s CURB plays emo with a ferocious bite. The city-state has built a strong reputation in the genre since the mid-2010s revival, with bands like Terrible People, Xingfoo&Roy, and Forests helping push the scene into cult territory. CURB arrives from the same ecosystem, sharing creative ties with the indie lineage surrounding Subsonic Eye. The trio — guitarist Lucas Tee, bassist Sam Venditti, and drummer Farizi Noorfauzi — first met as diploma students at LASALLE College of the Arts. In their early days, they bonded over the precision of math rock and the intensity of emo’s technical side but eventually grew to appreciate more styles later on. Their debut album Hope You’re Doing Well, Michaella (2022) captures that shift. The record leans on blunt, diaristic lyrics and the kind of guitar crunch associated with bands like Title Fight, yet it resists emo’s more theatrical tendencies. Instead, songs such as “7AM” and “Insult Through Injury” thrive on tight, direct hooks. “Become Again,” one of the album’s heaviest moments, highlights the band’s collaborative dynamic, with all three members trading vocal lines over restless, back-and-forth grooves. By the time they reached the 2024 EP benjabes!, the group began stretching that formula. The record opens with a surprising detour: slurred half-rap verses delivered by rapper-producer Mary Sue, a longtime collaborator of Noorfauzi. From there, the band gradually slips back into the guitar-driven sound listeners recognize. For CURB, emo remains a starting point rather than a boundary. The band sees genre labels as temporary signposts rather than a fixed identity. In that sense, Hope You’re Doing Well, Michaella reads almost like a diary — a record of someone confronting their own contradictions while trying to move forward. Noisier, punk-leaning riffage surfaces in songs like “You’re Me But Worse” and “Blake & The Surf.” Both tracks seem more interested in the pull of friendships and fleeting fascinations than in the anxieties of growing up. In that sense, CURB taps directly into emo’s lineage, where immediacy and youth carry a kind of strange timelessness.
Category: TFL Columns
SABAW SESSIONS: Shanne Dandan
Shanne Dandan Holds No Pedestal for Love Written by Faye Allego Shanne Dandan is for lovers. When talking to her, it feels like you’ve known her forever; almost like a seatmate you never stopped talking to in elementary school and would eventually share school lunches with. In the age of yearning and finding love on a tricky, slippery slope, Dandan possesses a rare trait– she simply loves the way she loves. It’s a privilege to get to connect with artists in the local scene, they’re not to be put on pedestals because the stage itself is level with everyone else most of the time. Talking to them about their artistry can be done anywhere and sounds just like a Facetime call; and that’s exactly how Dandan approached the simplicity of love and how overcomplicating it is bound to happen, but that’s not what love is going to be like forever. It was almost surprising to learn then, that Shanne Dandan’s introduction to music was anything but intimate. Like many children shone onto the spotlights of stardom, Dandan started her career at around eight years old and at thirteen upon joining ABS-CBN’s very first The Voice Kids with immense pressure, however, she later deflated it through her discovery of passionate writing. She began breaking free from the child-star bubble through connecting with the Manila Sound Era of OPM through the love and help from her grandmother, she then began a series of covers and being invited to collaborate on soundtracks from films such as “My Husband, My Lover”, “Breathe Again”, and later “100 Awit Para Kay Stella”. Dandan then explored the music scene and later released her debut album in 2024, “Kung Iyong Mamarapati”, where she dissects her own vulnerability and relationship with everything emotional. Her new single, “Labs Kita”, is a tune to look out for this Valentines season, aiming for a more wholesome approach and homage to lovey-dovey OPM ballads, Dandan gracefully converses on her songwriting process and experiences. **This interview has been edited for clarity and brevity. FA: What kinds of music did you grow up listening to, and how did those early influences stay with you? Shanne Dandan: Growing up, I was really a different person, I wouldn’t really say I was an artist because before I was just being a performer. Since I grew up doing competitive singing then joining singing contests, I thought talaga na, ‘Well, it was a different time naman din before.’ Before, the only way for you to make music – or if you’re a singer, is that you have to join singing contests para ma “discover” ka. So, dinaanan ko yung path na ‘yon, bata pa ako as in! Nag start ako parang mga eight years old? Seven years old? Very young. I got exposed sa industry ng ganong ka aga. Pero music-wise, yung listening ko, na-adapt ko siya sa, syempre, kasama ko sa bahay, yung lola ko, my mom, and my dad. We’re all very musically inclined din, my mom is a singer, lola ko also a singer. So every day we were all listening to music palagi. Lola was always blasting yung radio niya. And yun, I grew up listening to that kind of music, yung pinapakinggan ng lola ko which was music from Pilita Corrales, Cely Bautista, Ella del Rosario… Nakalimutan ko yung channel sa radio, pero parang Sunday radio everyday [laughs] may kaunting religious [themed] podcasts… Pero laging ganon, so growing up, na adapt ko talaga siya and ever since, mahilig talaga ako sa mga lumang bagay. Tapos ayun, na dala ko siya and even nung nagkaroon nakong ng idea and ng c-change na yung environment towards the entertainment industry, meron nang, Instagram, Meron nang YouTube, so mas namotivate ako na “ah okay, ‘di lang pala ito yung tanging ‘way’ ko to become who i want to be!” So then I discovered the magic of songwriting nung siguro 15 ako? 14? Very late bloomer ako kasi up until that point in my life nag j-join parin ako sa mga singing contests, tas may na meet akong mga like-minded people na gusto yung mga bagay na gusto ko, dun ko lang na discover na “Ah I like to write pala” pero before songwriting i really liked writing as a journalist, I was in journalism clubs, and I’m a feature writer pero sa Tagalog/Filipino. Pagsulat ng lathalain! Mahilig ako magsulat ng mga short stories, fantasy, all that! When I discovered songwriting, narealize ko na “ah, may ganito pala, na you can blend your words tapos may melody,” parang nag merge yung dalawang hilig ko which is writing and singing! That’s when I also set boundaries sa family ko, sabi ko ayoko na mag join ng singing contests. Hindi nagustuhan ng mom ko kasi very stage mom talaga yung mom ko– di niya naiintindihan! Sabi niya “Huh? Hindi ‘wag ka diyan” tas nung una, sumasama siya sa mga gigs ko, sa mga bars, and hindi niya maintindihan kasi sanay siya sa mga gigs na ang dami nanonood kasi I used to sing in hotels and events talaga. I would always sing covers lang. So nung nakita niya na ang konti nanonood sakin, ang didilim ng mga bars… pero eventually naging supportive naman siya! Ayun mas naempower ako when I started going to communities that appreciate my craft. But to answer your question, I am very much influenced by my Lola and nag rereflect ‘yun to who I am today and what kind of music I write. FA: I had a conversation with my friends, and nasabi ko na parang harana na reversed roles yung mga songs mo, kasi with harana, yung audience or yung muse ang highlight kasi sa kanila nadedeclare yung pag-ibig, but with your songwriting, it highlights your own love for your muse. Shanne Dandan: [Laughs] I feel like nag rereflect din sa craft ko, yung music ko, yung sarili ko! Na I have so much love to give. As in, when you meet my family we
SOUNDS OF THE SEA: Wisp (Thailand)
In the middle of the vast ethernet lies a genre that has been stretched, flattened, recycled, and reborn more times than anyone can reasonably count. Shoegaze, once tied to distortion pedals, rehearsal rooms, and subcultural isolation, has since found a second life online, where riffs circulate as presets, moods become templates, and entire scenes form inside comment sections. Out of that churn emerged Wisp, a Thai-Taiwanese American musician whose rise traces how shoegaze slipped from niche fixation into one of the most accessible sounds of the 2020s. Wisp’s earliest material, dating back to 2023, lived where many young artists now begin: alone in a bedroom, posting short instrumental clips online. Her early TikTok uploads leaned into shoegaze “type beat” structures, dense guitar layers looping into themselves, melodies hovering for the majority of the track. These clips spread quickly because her contemporaries understood how it could function in a compressed, scroll-first environment. Shoegaze became texture first, atmosphere before statement, something listeners could step into alongside a rich story that traces back to influences of noise rock and post-punk in the 80s. That clarity carried into her first EP, Pandora released in 2024, which marked a shift from small snippets to fully formed songs. Tracks like “Pandora” and “Mimi” expanded her sound, pairing blown-out guitars with soft, hushed vocals that rarely rose above a whisper. Her voice became one of her defining traits, dreamy and lo-fi, sitting low in the mix as another instrument rather than a focal point. It gave the music a sense of closeness, as if the listener had stumbled into something private. At times, stepping into Wisp’s worldbuilding as the wall of noise envelopes the listeners one at a time. As her audience grew, so did the scale of her work. Wisp’s songwriting eventually sharpened her sensibilities in writing more melodic pieces of music; Her arrangements thickened, and her live presence followed suit. What began as solo bedroom recordings translated into full-band performances capable of filling festival stages, all while keeping the grimy, internet-bred edge intact. Shoegaze, in her hands, did not lose its heaviness as it grew louder. It simply became easier to step into. That evolution continues on her debut album If Not Winter released in 2025, where newer songs like “Black Swan” or “Sword” lean further into contrast. The guitars hit harder, the structures tighten, and the emotional palette darkens without drifting into excess. The whispery vocals remain, floating over walls of sound that feel heavier and more deliberate than before. It is music shaped by online beginnings yet no longer confined to them. Wisp’s career reflects a broader shift in how shoegaze functions today. Detached from strict lineage and carried by platforms that reward immediacy, the genre has opened itself to a new generation. Through texture and a clear sense of mood, Wisp helped make shoegaze feel less like insular and more like a shared space for a wider audience, one that listeners could enter from anywhere and stay as long as they liked.
SOUNDS OF THE SEA: Asunojokei (Japan)
Within the populated stretches of Tokyo, Japan, lies the flood of acts and bands that start by crafting music, pursuing their own identity that continues to grow year by year. Coming from such a place is a band named Asunojokei, a four-piece blackgaze band that was formed back in 2014. Takuya Seki (bassist), Kei Toriki (guitarist), and Seiya Saito (drummer) were close friends since their teenage years, only meeting up with their vocalist, Daiki Nuno, through social media after watching a video of him covering a Converge song. Since then, they stuck together, starting their musical journey that will continue to break their limits. While they started with a two-track demo release back in 2015, it is through their first EP in 2016, ‘A Bird in the Fault,’ that informs the start of what soundscape, melodic tone, and writing style they’ll keep building up into. Howling screams; pummeling streaks of blackgaze, post-hardcore, and other metal stripes; and numbed melancholic poetry are immediately attached to this band’s palette. Songs like “Silent Tears” go through their post-metal motions with these solemn guitars, just before Nuno starts shrieking and the wail of blast beats and stormy riffs that come afterward. And “Easy” tips the line within depressive black metal, most notably with the gloomy first few minutes, cultivating this downbeat atmosphere that continues getting more cavernous and stinging. Two years later, their 2018 debut album, ‘Awakening’, amplifies what the band showcased beforehand and expands upon melodic prowess that caters to more potent songcrafting, with writing that consists of pushing past dour emotions despite feeling hopeless and lonely within a momentous city. Leaner cuts like “Double Quotation Mark” and “Ugly Mask” indulge within thunderous black metal passages on the former and shimmering rock tones on the latter, carving out Nuno’s ability towards spoken word, singing, and screaming. “Bashfulness of the Moon” and “Thin Ice” maximize their post-rock structures to a different level, where lilting cooldowns lead to explosive blackgaze turmaturges, with Nuno sounding guttural and snappy in his wails. After releasing a couple of EPs throughout 2019 and 2020, they eventually took a bit more time before putting together ‘Island’, their sophomore record, which took a different direction in the way they compose their tunes. Said direction comes in the manner of implementing J-rock progressions to their post-hardcore and blackgaze roots, a blend of sound that this band manages to synergize in a big way. “Chimera” and “Diva Under The Blue Sky” simultaneously sound harrowing and magnetic all at once, bleary riffs and crushing screams become a bit brighter amid the accompanying J-rock melodies. There is happiness and company that’s worth looking forward to: A sign of forward momentum that is essential to the album’s songwriting, gently realizing that, despite the internal gloom that the protagonist is overwhelmed by. That is not to say the straightforward blackgaze tones are left behind, as cuts like “The Forgotten Ones” and “The Sweet Smile of Vortex” sound more ferocious with the band’s refinement across production and songcrafting. Nuno’s howls and spoken word are crushing and emotive as ever, clawing across frigid blast beats and melodic crescendos that kept building up into a punchy resolution. A characteristic that carries the momentum of this album from front to back, allowing compositions to sound heftier and stickier than ever. The seeds that came from that specific direction paved the path to their recent record this year, ‘Think of You’. Even moving further into that J-rock and J-Pop influences and leaning more into concise melodic structures, formulating a shorter, winter-themed album where the production and composition refinements are on full display. Said influences overall strengthen their signature blackgaze and post-hardcore bread-and-butter, crystallizing phenomenal melodic earworms that this band lands with gusto. “Magic Hour,” “Angel,” and “Stella” are invigorating as it is showstopping, with Nuno pulling out all the power into screams and the rest of the band pulling off dazzling melodic throughlines. “Dogma” still shows that, despite going in this direction, the band doesn’t forget their roots, with that blackgaze wall of sound combusts through its roaring riffs. So does the rampant rhythms of “In The City Where Cobalt Falls” with the soaring guitar passages and blast beats piercing through the skies. This level of vigor proceeds to how frosty and brighter the album sounds, a tone that complements the yearning, thoughtful sensibilities that are plastered on its songwriting. Always finding hope and confidence, an uplifting energy that echoes through “The Farewell Frost” and “Tomorrow is Your Day”. Utilizing gleaming atmospherics, cavernous vocals, and fiery compositions to drive that tender optimism higher. With each passing record, Asunojokei keeps flapping their wings and gradually crafting their own unique identity amidst Japan’s historic background towards its circulation of black metal and post-hardcore bands. Never leaving behind what they used to be in the past, just taking new steps to find a space that is their own. With an optimistic thoughtfulness being embraced that keeps shining brighter, the way that they’re going is up, flooding the skies with howls that put everyone awake.
Tender in A Selfish Universe: Ourselves The Elves
In an industry driven by visibility and speed, Ourselves The Elves embody a DIY ethic that builds on showing up and sustaining community and embracing contradiction across a decade of making music together
SOUNDS OF THE SEA: Mary Sue (Singapore)
The hip-hop scene in Singapore only continues to grow with every passing moment. Groups such as Construction Sight, Triple Noize, and Urban Xchange marked their impact in the 90s and the 2000s, yet it took quite some time before the culture flourished throughout the country. In the 2010s, more artists such as Akeem Jahat, Yung Raja, THELIONCITYBOY, ShiGGA Shay, and Masia One eventually made their name in the mainstream, carrying and shaping what is there to be shown in Singapore’s Hip-Hop space. Once the 2020s hit the surface, there came an artist who struck an abstract niche within the underground. Due to the isolation brought back in the pandemic, Siew Png Sim – with his love for acts like MIKE, Earl Sweatshirt, MF DOOM, and Navy Blue – dons the Mary Sue moniker and starts to illustrate his sound. Rougher beats, decisive flows, and pensive storytelling are the name of the game. He slowly shaped those foundations through EPs across 2020 to 2021. Those EPs are just a preparation for what he will be putting out since then. In 2022, he dropped his debut record, ‘KISSES OF LIFE’. Here, Mary Sue, alongside the insane row of producers and features across the world, establishes his creative tendencies in full as he lets loose personal experiences of grief and recovery, wading through the loss of his grandfather and the struggle with his grandmother’s dementia. It’s a reflection with memories that pulls him back and pushes him forward, swirling around production that’s simultaneously light and dark. “Moving On!” and “Spirits/Name” stretch out samples to a distressingly glitchy degree, whilst “Cavalry” and “Paper Generals” stall in muted but lighter beats. A juxtaposition that Mary Sue’s weathered delivery passes through without any trouble at all, like a conflicted spirit going through shades of grey. The following year sees him expound on his creative streak, with three albums that were released within a few months of each other. ‘For Sure’ replaces abstract collages with tangible instruments, a backdrop that soothes the ragged introspection he evokes in his bars. ‘OK!’ follows suit, a collaborative effort with other South East Asian beatmakers and musicians (Cravism, ABANGSAPAU, etc) to construct a breezier record, adorned with boom bap and pop rap to set the vibe. In contrast, Mary Sue’s collaboration with UK producer Psychedelic Ensemble flips into experimental territory on ‘CACOPHONOUS DIGRESSIONS, A RECORD OF MOMENT IN TIME,’ where the beats blare and crackle in every space, yet never smother Mary Sue’s presence on the microphone. His constant work ethic is showcased even further through the “Voice Memos” releases that he pushes out, where even in the midst of traveling to a foreign place, his knack for writing never stops. Recording 2022’s ‘VOICE MEMOS ACROSS A COUPLE BODIES OF WATER’ when he was in New York City for two weeks, and 2024’s ‘Voice Memos From A Winter In China’ when he was on a winter tour in China with Singaporean jazz quintet, Clementi Sound Appreciation Club. His wandering thoughts during those times are now encapsulated within these projects, containing a well of memories that he’ll cherish long-term. 2025 is an important year that shows Mary Sue’s growth as an overall artist. With the help of the Clementi Sound Appreciation Club, these two forces managed to craft a unique spirit that shines within Mary Sue’s overall discography, ‘Porcelain Shield, Paper Sword’. In comparison with most of his works thus far, he wields a keen disposition behind live instrumentation, a distinction that propels Mary Sue’s performances and lyric-making to the next level. Diverting away from his influences and embracing a style that he can call his own. The album’s major perspective on a time-traveling oracle observing the ambiguous and chaotic histories of the world is greatly reflected in the writing and sound that informs this character concept. Mary Sue’s observant insight and assured delivery resonate with the Clementi Sound Appreciation Club’s burnished melodic contributions. Gentle acoustics nimble across spare horns and keys of ‘Thief and the Bell’, creating serenity curtaining the ignorant thief who stole from the village. Rumbling guitars and drums are emphasized on ‘Haste’ and ‘Minesweeper’, creating stabs of heaviness that unveil the violence unspooling past centuries. ‘Horse Acupuncture’ is swallowed up with haunting gongs around burly guitar passages, fitting Mary Sue, Agung Mango, and Nakama.’s observations of people who are shunned by those who get to control the perception of others. With the release of this record, it only shows Mary Sue on an upward stream; his craft within Singapore’s underground hip-hop only gets more acknowledgement and refinement. His grounded experiences only give him more to speak about, a hopeful presence that shines amidst the swarm of darkness that surrounds him. With his newfound sword and shield equipped, his thoughtful wisdom leads to wider ground being shown, then gradually explored with a taut mindset.
SABAW SESSIONS: Hazylazy
Approaching Antagonisms The singular author of his work, Jason Fernandez, is a textbook solo artist. His brainchild, Hazylazy, remains his closest collaborator, revisiting the Antagonisms demos he released from his bedroom years ago. Written by Hannah Manuel Born in the post-internet age, Hazylazy is the project of Tagalog native Jason Fernandez. An indie rock internet secret of the early 2020s, Jason made waves in the (then online) scene as the solo mind behind The Resentment Segment. Tracks like Ultrawanker and Juxtapose were the lockdown anthems that eventually funneled crowds new and old back into dive bars and in-person gig venues. With Antagonisms, Hazylazy reemerges transformed, putting together years of musical exploration into a cohesive and deeply personal thesis. The genealogy of Hazylazy precedes the act itself. Spending his formative years in Laguna, Jason found his first audience performing with his five schoolmates at fairs in the local Catholic school circuit as Serotonin. In step with the rise of indie bands all over the country, led by the likes of Autotelic and Ben&Ben, the six-piece Biñan-grown band had the classic OPM toolkit at their disposal while somehow still maintaining impressive individuality for an adolescent outfit. Part of this ought to be due to Jason, who composed the original pieces they performed in between covers. Initially writing songs in the drum seat of the band, Jason first made his way to the mic when the band’s vocalist quit. This late 2010s indie rock sensibility transforms into something more atmospheric toward the latter part of Serotonin’s lifespan. When the band quietly dissipated into college and work, the singer-songwriter took to SoundCloud for a new solo project, where a trajectory of his work remains in view today. From chillwave to jangle pop to neo-psychedelia, Hazylazy is heavily inspired by the wild array of musical inspirations Jason holds dear. A multisensory and multidisciplinary trip, Antagonisms is the matured mastery of Jason’s exploration project years in the making. The singular composer and producer of the album, Jason’s closest collaborator is himself. Many of the tracks are years older than they let on, beginning as demos back when Hazylazy was still in its seedling stages. With an ethos of total authorship and a creative control of the acoustic environment he molds, the indie rock auteur revisits old compositions and converses, eventually completing a years-spanning project long awaited since his last release four years ago. He orchestrates his listening experience down to a T. From the warm decay of lo-fi synthesizers, to drumlines—a channel he is well acquainted with—like heartbeats in their earnestness, the time it has taken to get him here is a reward made even riper for those who were there with him from the start. Back in time, it was impossible to imagine Hazylazy as real. The adulterated frequencies of the real world were seemingly not the place for Jason’s ethereality. The boundlessness of the net—its lack of physical constraints, its endless archives, its potential for anonymous reinvention—serves Jason well, so well that it is easy to conflate it with the separate and equally boundless entity that is his mind. As time and a return to on-site gigs permitted, the underground bore witness to a new master. From an etiology of melancholy, Antagonisms arrives noisily and unapologetically, not giving a fuck about what the world thinks, blazing a trail through it anyway. A storied creation and a boundless frontier, Antagonisms is something to look forward to on the live stage. **This interview has been edited for clarity and brevity. HM: There are songs in Antagonisms and related to antagonisms written with years in between them and the final album. Specifically, the tracks “Another Self-Loathing Demo” and “ANTAGONISMS” which were released four and three years ago, respectively. Hazylazy: Yes, which is funny ‘cause “ANTAGONISMS” did not make it to the album. But “antagonisms”, it latched on as a name. Nagkaroon pa nga ko ng iba’t ibang album names in mind, and I was trying my best to not use antagonisms because I was telling myself na “Ah may nakarelease na track ng antagonisms, yeah, whatever”. But I figured if that’s the name that works, so be it. I just went for “Antagonisms” even though there already is a song called “Antagonisms” and wala siya sa mismong album. HM: Is there any relation between the two “Antagonisms”? Hazylazy: It felt like [the song] started the new sound for me? That’s when I separated from the previous sound, which is the sound that most people have heard from the Resentment Segment, and “ANTAGONISMS” was a big jump from what I usually make. It was a good starting point too, in a way that song started everything. And then lyrically, the album of Antagonisms fits the title. Parang kumbaga the “ANTAGONISMS” as a single, the one on SoundCloud, the sonic aspect and the lyric aspect don’t really fit in the album I’ve made, so I didn’t think to put it in. But looking back, the title really worked with how the lyrics were written: unapologetically saying anything, unapologetically following the sound that you want, not caring about what other people say to me. It’s like being antagonistic in a way, putting yourself first, being selfish quote unquote. HM: The singly credited composer, writer, and producer of your project. These are songs you’ve written with years in between them. Hazylazy: Yes, years apart but it’s not as if I’ve been working on those songs for the whole time interval. I just let it sit there and then when I decided I was gonna start recording the album that’s really the only time I revisit the song and there were changes here and there but not so much. I would say just production wise, na may onting adds lang and onting subtraction of things HM: In a way you’re revisiting a past iteration of yourself as well, in the year you first created those demos. As the sole auteur to your music, what is it like collaborating with a past
SABAW SESSIONS: MATOKI
Mas Madali Huminga Pag Andyan Ang MATOKI Nostalgia has countlessly been labelled as the key ingredient to dream-pop, but how does the power of friendship and utter passion from the DIY heartthrobs of Matoki give meaning to the music? Written By Faye Allego When they were just teenagers, Vladymir Estudillo, Yancy Yauder, and Emmanuel Acosta formed MATOKI originally as a three-piece band. As the roaring 2020s rose to uncertainty, they found identity through the alternative scene and beyond the confines of their bedrooms – their stylistic sound of choice? Shoegaze that is desired to pour out dreampop melodies that send the listener into a Sputnik-like orbit of nostalgia. The trio then decided that three could turn into six, and thus entered Ivan Casillano on drums, Kiyan Leal on tambourine/vocals, and Kendrick Tuazon on rhythmic guitar. Recently, a Facebook post from the page “Local Music Watch New England” circulated across my newsfeed. It says something along the lines of: “They’re not ‘just’ a local band. They’re the soundtrack to your town. Support them like they’re already famous.” Throughout the trajectory of their journey, MATOKI has amassed over 8,000 monthly listeners and more than 300,000 streams of their singles, “Strawberry Girl” and “The Streets,” both of which belong to their debut album, And Mend All Your Broken Bones. Achieving these big numbers independently with no attachment to any big company or label and strictly relying on their authenticity and community within the underground music scene, the band captures the true essence of DIY through touring in and outside Metro Manila. Their live performance not only differ in stylistic choices of whatever they desire that day but they also differ in the range of venues they play whether its at your local venue in QC, Makati, performing at Marikina Heights during dinnertime, capturing the hearts of students at RTU, PUP, UP Diliman, UP Baguio or even supporting causes from ARPAK KMP, SAKA, and many more college gigs. Through their dreamy echo chambers of polyrhythmic guitars seen in tracks like “Sarado Na Ang Makiling Trail (At Wala Na Kaming Mapuntahan)”, coming-of-age anthems like “Lemon” and heightened senses of wonder in “Paotsin”, MATOKI stays loyal to their DIY manifesto. **This interview has been edited for clarity and brevity. FA: What’s it like touring outside Metro Manila (especially the Under My Skin tour), and what makes it different from performing in venues like Mow’s? Vlad: Sobrang kakaiba yung excitement everytime na tutugtog kami na malayo sa usual at unfamiliar sa amin. Yung thought talaga na “nasa lugar ako na ‘to dahil sa music namin”, sobrang powerful nya para sa akin. As a DIY band din gustong gusto ko palagi yung challenge, kung paano pagkakasyahin yung resources, yung pera at energy. Sa recent tour, sobrang humarap kame sa challenges financially kaya right there and then pinagusapan namin kung ano ang mangyayari. Ayun, na resolve naman. Palagi kami nagkakaroon ng lessons kung ano ang mga bagay na effective at hindi kapag touring outside Manila. Yancy: Personally, magkakaiba kami pagdating dito eh, ako kailangan ko tipidin yung energy ko, mula sa byahe palang kailangan ko na tipirin yung energy ko, hanggang bago tumugtog. May excitement oo, pero alam kong kailangan ko limitahan yung energy. Laging may bubulong na “Oop, wag muna magkulit!” unlike sa Mow’s, mas sanay kami sa environment. Usually mga kakilala rin nakikita namin dun. Nakikita ko kase sila Vlad kaya nila mag kulit kahit wala pa kami dun sa pupuntahan eh. Tapos naiingit ako kasi di ko kaya yun. Ken: As a DIY Band that has to, well, do everything by ourselves, we could definitely say that it’s financially, mentally, and physically draining. We just always make the most out of our very minimal resources and just doing everything with raw, pure, and unending passion. What makes it different from performing in venues that are close to home is that it’s always an experience. It’s always a mixture of excitement, anxiety, and serenity. But it’s a good thing that anywhere we go, the support from our friends and supporters are also there. Kiyan: Syempre excited ako parang looking forward ako sa ibang culture at eksena tyaka sa mga bagong taong makikilala. Isa pa yung pinaka favourite ko yung kulitan sa biyahe, papunta palang andami mo ng ma experience agad. FA: Yancy, may mga panahon bang naisip mo na sana lumaki ka sa ibang lugar o panahon yung mas buhay pa ‘yung mga music subculture? Yancy: Madalas namin yan mapagkwentuhan dati ni Vlad eh, bago pa ata mabuo ang banda. Hindi ko lang sure sa kanya, pero ako ‘di ko talaga naiisip yung sana lumaki ako sa ibang lugar o panahon, kahit pa mostly ng pinapakinggan ko at influence na din talaga dati e galing isa ibang lugar at ibang panahon nga, I can say na iaadmire ko sila pati na din yung buhay na eksena nila noon pero never ko naisip na sana lumaki ako dun sa lugar nila or sa panahon nila. FA: Naapektuhan ka rin ba ng mga alaala sa paraan ng pagtugtog mo ng bass? Yancy: Yes, kapag nagrerecord ako ng bass sa mga tracks namin, sinisikap ko lagi ipicture yung sarili ko na andun sa setting nung kanta, or ifeel yung ineexpress nung kanta, nakakatulong yon para ma-tap ko yung ilang alaala na kung hindi man kahawig e eksaktong katulad nung gustong iexpress nung mga kanta namin, tapos ayon mula don kung ano lang din yung maramdaman ko sa mga alaala na yun isasalin ko lang din sya sa bass FA: When composing a song, which members think of a melody first? Do you all have to be present IRL in the writing process? Vlad: Most of the time talaga sakin nanggagaling yung main idea ng songs, katulong ko si Kiyan madalas, then we build from there. May time na si Emman nagsusulat din ng kanta tulad nung “For Choco“, pero ngayon ayaw niya na eh. Joke lang haha. Pero usually talaga pag may naisip akong idea, kukunin ko yung gitara,
SABAW SESSIONS: Michael Seyer
Michael Seyer, Do You Have What It Takes To Be A Man? Interview by Faye Allego Music has been a diary for songwriters for centuries, and Michael Seyer is no different. But how does a man write his legacy? Memory is ever-changing and sometimes fails to hold still. However, when used in music, we can preserve them forever. In his latest release, Michael Seyer introduces an amalgamation of his memories and experiences on boyhood vs manhood, family, love, and ghosts in Boylife. For nearly a decade, Seyer’s rise from the bedroom music scene has been unhurried and steadily paced – his distinct lo-fi, jazz-tinged dreampop and vintage soul sound originated from his 2016 debut album, Ugly Boy, and is further intensified in 2018’s Bad Bonez. Seyer’s diaristic lyricism, as well as sentimental textures of Japanese city pop and the reminiscent glow of early OPM influences in his 2021 album Nostalgia and throughout his discography, he never strays away from an inward gaze of his identity and perception of love. Talking to Michael Seyer from one bedroom to another at different sides of the Earth felt like catching up with an old mentor from high school, you really learn the essence of ‘dudes just being dudes’ who are really in tune with their passion. During the interview, he mentions that music is all he really knows, and it was said in the same way that Alex G thinks he’s a very boring person, from the receiving end of things, it’s honestly far from the truth. **This interview was conducted in June 2025 and has been edited for clarity and brevity. FA: Do you know what Lugaw is? Seyer: That sounds familiar. You know what? I love the Philippines. I was born there, but I left when I was three or four. So yeah, I just, I didn’t do my very best to keep the good look in my mind. FA: So, Lugaw is Porridge. Where in the Philippines were you born? Seyer: I was born in Manila. FA: Is nostalgia a recurring theme in your work? What role does memory play in how you write music or understand yourself? Seyer: I write about memory for sure, but it’s not the most overtly “themed”. It’s more in the sense that I write [about] my experiences. So, in that kind of really far stretch of my experiences, are my memories. Mostly, I’m writing about me looking back at certain things, how I am now, you know? Memory drives the music. I tend to write songs or do things in a way where it’s the music that I have found the most fond in my memory; I try to make my music sound in that way, that whole nostalgia EP, I was really into a lot of the Japanese city pop and even a lot of OPM music. I have always been listening to that kind of stuff. Even as a kid, I remember listening to it. I would take things from music that have really affected me in the past and then use that as a jumping-off point. I guess for this recent album, I was writing… a good amount. One of the songs on the new album, “1995”, that’s the year I was born, [and] I wrote that song specifically about the Philippines. The way I remember the Philippines is not– I don’t have a very concrete memory of it. I left when I [was] really young, and I came to America. So, a lot of the stuff that I do remember from the Philippines is really just abstract, senses, taste, and maybe the few images that I do remember, they almost feel like an old film reel that’s [a] really colorful and nothing is really graspable. It’s really ethereal. I was trying to write a song about the Philippines with my very limited memory and my really abstract memory about it. So those are a few ways, I guess, nostalgia or memory comes into play. FA: Are there any Filipino artists that are from the past or present that you’re curious about, in terms of musical influence, and your new record label, Seyerland? Seyer: Yeah, that’s a tough thing, right? We’re in a kind of an interesting situation with Filipino visibility, right? There aren’t many artists to really pick from, especially in my lane of music [in the West]. We have that Filipino Pride…Once anyone’s a fucking drop of Filipino, we claim it. That being said, there’s nothing there’s not much range that I could pick from. Obviously, I love all kinds of music. So I am always listening to everything, especially with OPM, Hotdog, and Bong Peñera. My parents would always play Parokya Ni Edgar, Eraserheads. Yeah, it’s… A lot of old stuff. I would love to find some artists that are more contemporary in that lane, and we don’t have that many options to pick from. So I’m just always trying to find new music. and I definitely want to encourage Filipino artists to carve out a lane for themselves, and I want to discover more artists who are Filipino [and are inclined to make] great music. Because we’re a fucking–we’re a musical culture. Nine out of ten of us can kill it in karaoke and belt out of nowhere. FA: You released your new album under your new independent label, Seyerland. Are there any lessons and niches you have gained in the behind-the-scenes process of starting your own DIY label? Seyer: Well, you know what? I am only a month into it. I’m not sure if I have any lessons to give anyone, but [a] part of the reason why I want to do this is because I’ve been doing [music] for a really long time– almost 10 years now, and through that process of being forged to release on my own [music], because I haven’t really had any connections. I was just someone who threw a project on the internet and then fell into this. I
SOUNDS OF THE SEA: jorud (Singapore)
Singaporean musician Jared Lim has been playing a significant role in various mainstay acts over the past couple of years, whether in his local country or elsewhere. Being the guitarist and producer of bands like Sobs and Subsonic Eye, as well as providing production assistance for Blush and The Purest Blue are just some of those notable credits. His ear for production sticks in your ear once you hear it: blissful synth chops, colorful instrumental mixes, and crisp vocal emphasis. A balancing act of sharp melodies and sparkling textures that are never put out of scale. An ability that only comes from very skilled producers who know how to leverage the mix without disruption. At some point, if he can help produce these songs for these bands, certainly, he can write songs for himself, too. Soon enough, that is what he just did. Donning the solo project Jorud, he pulled together his debut album, aptly titled ‘The Song’. This is Jared Lim expressing the colors that he has brushed over before, now splattered on a sonic canvas that is his own. Whether that be the saturated 80s ambiance on “Am”, speedy waves of breakbeats on “Harm”, chilled out dance beats on “Wannastop”, or the chiptune accents across surfing guitars on “Have It”. He has these soundscapes all layered out. Of course, it is not just him who gets the play around in these songs. Pauline Rana of The Purest Blue, Cayenne of Sobs, and elo elo provide contributing vocals in most of the album, filling the prismatic space with their friendly presence. Creating this slice-of-life feel where wholesome connections create more smiles along the way—shining the brightest on the title track’s sunny indie pop, “Friend” with its coat of shimmery hyperpop, and the raving, glitchy EDM of “Wideview”. The word “joyous” is the best way to describe what Jorud has put together with his debut album. A brisk walk in the park is remembered most due to the unabashed display of melodies and textures that are overall jubilant and vivid. These might be just a collection of songs, but once you hear them, you can’t help but turn your frowny days into smiley days. *The interview is edited with brevity and clarity: LP: When I hear your artist name, Jorud, I imagine someone who’s chill and lively. What was circulating in your head when you were figuring out the identity of your solo project? Lim: Actually, this project is kind of the first real music project I ever did when I was 15. I picked a stupid name that I don’t want to change, because I have all the URLs on Bandcamp and SoundCloud or whatever. It started when I was 15, [I was] learning how to use Ableton, and [was] just putting out stuff that I made on SoundCloud. Yeah, [there’s] not much thought to it, but I guess now, it’s been 10 years. So, I just felt like, “Uh, I should kind of do this properly.” See how it feels like to make an album and put it out properly and promote it and stuff like that. Yeah. LP: You mentioned that you were using Ableton at the age of 15. What invited you to do production work during those times? Lim: Before I started making my own stuff, I was making chiptune covers of songs. I’ll put them on YouTube. I did a few like CHRVCHES [covers], you know the band CHRVCHES? LP: Yes! Lim: Yeah, I did a few chiptune remixes of their songs, and they posted one of them on their Facebook. I was like 14, I was freaking out. Yeah, that’s kind of how it started. I was just making covers for fun, and then it led to making my own stuff. LP: How long have you been conceptualizing and working on your debut project? Lim: Some of the songs on it actually started quite a while ago, maybe like a year or two ago. But I didn’t properly think I was making something until, I think, it was December last year. I had the idea to send this instrumental track that I made three years ago to Pauline from [The Purest Blue]. I had that instrumental on my laptop for a few years and didn’t really know what to do with it until I had a sudden spark of inspiration. I decided to send it to her because I thought she would do something cool, and she did. That was December last year, and then from then on, I spent maybe three months combing through old ideas and making new stuff, and I just turned it into an album. LP: Speaking about those collaborations with Cayenne, Pauline, and Elo Elo. Did you have them in mind while creating the album, or were they a last-minute afterthought? Lim: [It’s] kind of a bit of both because, honestly, this whole album was like a last-minute afterthought. I made everything really quickly, but I always had those specific vocalists in mind for each song. The song with Elo Elo that actually just came out today [July 10, 2025], [it] originally was a remix I did for fun for this band that I’m working with. And that was more than a year ago. But I liked it too much that I wanted to keep it for myself. And Hui Jun (Elo Elo) heard that remix quite a while ago, and she said she liked it. So when I started working on the album, I was like, “Oh I should reuse that and I’m gonna ask her to sing on it”, and she did. LP: You said that, for three months, you tried to quickly comb through your ideas for this album. During that process, were you inclined to listen to music a lot, or did you just completely lock in on what you had in mind and never listen to anything that might disrupt those ideas? Lim: I feel like, generally, just in everyday life, I