Written by Noelle Alarcon Proudly wearing their years in the local music scene under their belt, ONE CLICK STRAIGHT’s evolution is evident with every release they put out. Finding their niche through speaking out on matters of the heart, it’s no surprise they came up with “Telepono.” It’s as if they’re professing vulnerabilities through the coiled telephone cord, hoping you’ll make out the earnestness from the receiver. Over time, OCS has always kept their trademark: the production of their music closes in on your ears, engulfing you in the reverb of their spilled truths. This fits their style just right–with the heavy-handed strumming of their guitars, the rattling echo of the snare drum, and the breathy articulation of the Marquez brothers. In “Telepono,” they blend these elements with radio rock staples of the late ‘90s and the early 2000s. These are heard in the littlest quirks, like starting the song with a crescendo to a drum fill, or the brief moment where everything is so distorted the instruments crackle into static, making room for the vocalist’s poignance. It’s tracks like this, inspired by the desolation in cold city dweller settings, (as seen in their single covers) that people connect with most. But like long-distance confessions through the circuit lines, it’s hard to grasp the extent of affection “Ikaw lang ang gustong kausap” encompasses. For a song so honest, its intentions need more than the derivation of song structures that were once in fashion–”Telepono” yearns for the fullness of sound that OCS is known for. Criticisms aside, “Telepono” is another catchy, memorable track from OCS. The warmth it possesses keeps you company in the midst of the biting wind under evening skylines. It’s the late night dial you never expected to ring, whose words are filled with such endearment that they keep you up until the morning.
REVIEWS
MIXTAPE REVIEW: sobe – ICED OUT
Written by Elijah P. The year of 2024 has completed its axis around the sun. Galaxies have aligned to meet the greatest talents and achieve the biggest milestones ever reached. In the case of local music, it’s reached way over its quota. We’ve spent 365 days receiving or witnessing all the accolades and essays from last year’s highlights. From a land thousand miles away mind you, and they managed to catch our attention online. Like a buzzer beater of sorts, it’s a different kind of “plus aura” when you get to be under a listener’s radar for the rest of the year while still being incredibly talented in the same regard. Enter sobe: a Fil-Am musician based in Las Vegas showcasing both unhinged electronica and alternative r&b to the forefront. Their latest mixtape titled “ICED OUT” is as balls-to-the-wall and it is ferocious as it gets. Described as a “maximalist hip-hop tape”, it has quite literally everything an experimental music fan would hope for. Sugary production bitcrushing; hyperpop influenced breakdowns; downright chaotic squeals between pastiche producer tags, sobe has the entire music world on her shiny fingertips. However, this is more than a rager than most everyone would dismiss it to be. These soundscapes give more justice than it is credited for. sobe is out here counting these bands while the rest of her arsenal cooks up more glitch-hop mayhem one track after the other, linking together the bombast of rap mixtape sensibilities with the destructive ease of the crushing mallets landing right on your speaker monitors. Alchemy is in the works in “ICED OUT”. Highlights include overwhelming left turns such as “tiradores” and its blown out production: low pass filters, rattling hi-hats, and disorienting pitches; “4uuuu”, a self-professed ‘broke girl anthem’ while keys jangle in the backdrop of a big-room club banger. She showcases more than just plain lyrical braggadocio in between hosting her own mixtape, the entire project exceeds expectations past production flexing. sobe’s versatility in “ICED OUT” shines the brightest. In “wadditiss”, sobe contemplates on taking out bad exes and taunting on guys for not getting ‘hoes’ while scratches and revving subwoofers cry at the back; “tip” keeps up with sobe’s signature falsetto vocals – a slightly unorthodox approach that would make her lightyears away from most r&b copycats. It has that tongue-in-cheek quality yet bolsters in being earth-shattering. “break in 2” dabbles in pluggnb inspired synthwork, the flourishes include xylophones that patterns like a lullaby while choppy vocals poke in and out of the track. All in all, it’s safe to say that sobe is a proud kababayan making it in the underground of Las Vegas, riding ahead of the trend waves in rap and alternative r&b. Ultimately creating a lane that’s uniquely her own. And like her hometown, Sin City, she continues to break the rules in rap, and that also includes space, time and sound in “ICED OUT”. Support the art and the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: Wuji Wuji – Careless
Written by Jayne Caray Despite ending the past year with close to no media presence and zero hints of a release, Wuji Wuji ends it with a surprise announcement; 2024 was not for naught after all, the sextet was busy doing something else, something new. In a Facebook post made 4 days before 2025, the band teases their single called “Careless” from their upcoming release “NOVISION”. Now, the question is, how much difference did one year make? Right off the bat, the latest track signals a stylistic departure from their former releases. Wuji Wuji initially spent 2023 exploring and experimenting with multiple genres. The band initially got recognition as a City Pop act inspired from retro Japanese aesthetics; ranging from the 80’s fluorescent green-tinted street style to the 2000’s old school Hip-Hop. In “Careless”, the band retains a few of these elements, but musically, they have become quite unrecognizable. The Disco and Hip Hop influences from “NOSOUL” are missing as we see the band donning new sonic textures denser and more mature than their previous tracks. The bassline along with the heavy-hitting drums set a slow burn that drones out throughout the entire song. Engulfed in its misery, the vocals drown yet echo a haunting loneliness that resembles aching from the Slow Rock bands of decades past. The single stands as one of the more somber tracks in Wuji Wuji’s discography, a possible indication of the foreign yet intriguing path to be taken by the upcoming EP. It makes one wonder why Wuji Wuji switched up again all of a sudden. Was it a new persona to add? A new direction for the band? Going into the track, “Careless” was initially confusing. The band has changed musical styles throughout the years, making their discography as colorful as ever and so, with 2023’s “Kanluran”, you would expect them to lean heavily into their City Pop roots. As much as this was not the case, the latest single has proved itself worthy of being taken seriously. The dedication and amount of effort the band has poured into their new sound is evident within the single. Wuji Wuji has made it clear that they’re not just messing around and that ending up with a year of inactivity is just the consequence of doing so. Although “Careless” was far from being expected, it still wound up as an endearing change to their discography. Support the art and the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: Ligaya Escueta – Dollweb
Written by Anika Maculangan Ligaya Escueta’s latest album entitled Dollweb is a means to commemorate the occasion of turning 18 — a pivotal moment in one’s life, with lots of changes to come. Not to be fooled by her gothic aesthetic, the album comes to one’s knowledge in the vein of ‘coming-of-age’, as one follows through her journey of self-discovery and reflection. Escueta’s music career launched as early into her life as she was 13, being mentored by some of Manila’s household names such as Acel Bisa-Van Ommen and Mikey Amistoso, who have helped her flourish over the years as a musician. From her first single The End to now, a full album, one can clearly acknowledge how much her sound has evolved. In Dollweb we notice vocals to be more concise and polished, demonstrating how much more care was taken in mixing and production. It’s also to be noted that Escueta’s instrumentals have become more complex and multi-layered, contrary to her earlier songs, which were more humble and simplistic. Her rise and growth as an artist is comparable to other musicians like beabadoobee, who started as a young creative making music out of her bedroom, to playing for larger audiences. It’s a sense of progress that’s inspirational at best, since it allows for listeners to follow them through their success as an artist. By listening to Dollweb, it’s still detectable that Escueta is just like every teenager who garners some influence from bands like Weezer and Blur — although, that’s what makes the album all the more genuine and authentic. Dollweb doesn’t try to go beyond itself, it sticks to where it came from. Just by Dollweb in itself, we can envision what Escueta’s bedroom looks like — band posters splattered across every wall, a tower of effect pedals in one corner, and a diary of collages, journal entries, and lyrics laying by a desk. Escueta doesn’t feel like a ‘distant’ artist, introducing that sense of truthfulness in almost every song she conceptualizes. All of the emotions and thoughts which she expresses in her tracks stand out the most for their validity — as they convey in such accuracy, the confusion and messiness that is to be met upon entering youth. While more synchronicity could be tended to in the future, these small flaws are what makes the album true to where she is in life right now. We mustn’t forget that at the end of the day, she is just 18, as we all once were, and nobody is ever perfect at that age. If anything, the slight malfunctions, mostly in musicality such as late tempos and missed beats are what furthers Escueta to being an honest artist. Someone much younger than her could be streaming her music, and realizing that there is no inherent requirement to immediately be immaculate. She also informs her audience that it’s never too early to start. While it’s hard to be taken seriously as a young musician most of the time, she proves otherwise. One of her tracks Laughing in Milk had managed to be released under Tenzi Records, and by that time, the local scene had already gained familiarity with her music. Dollweb is her most cohesive project, exemplifying just precisely how she wishes to develop her music moving forward. At the moment, her sound is reminiscent of other dollcore-adjacent artists like Lalleshwari (Katie Jane Garside) and Solya, however for all we know, this could shift at any given moment. We can see that there’s a lot more definite room for exploration, as Escueta still has the freedom to better solidify her sound. For now, she has Dollweb to concretize her presence in the music scene. She’s one of many, who represents the younger generation of the local community, and it’s always exciting to have that glimmer of hope — that there are up and coming musicians who the torch can be passed onto. What Dollweb provides is a promising future — that edgy undertones within the indie rock scene will persist. Dollweb is an album that speaks the veracities of adolescence, from the most anguish-ridden to the most delightful. It brings all of these mixed elements into one collection of songs and brings the listener back to those days — when everything seemed so mundane yet complicated. The album justifies these encounters and experiences, making it all the more vital for younger listeners, who need something to connect with — amongst the vast pool of musicians, who cater more toward older generations. Support the art and the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: Arkyalina – Ersatz
Written by Adrian Jade Francisco It is as certain as gravity that the local electronic ecosystem is an infinite realm. Alongside the likes of U-Pistol, Kindred, and LONER, Arkyalina is in his own separate reality. The opening of “Ersatz” uploads his shoegaze-infused digital soundscape domain onto your ears, fading into a cacophonous surge of guitar riffs. Tavin Villanueva’s multi-instrumental ability delivers intricate layers of sounds, where each section of the song is a resonating immersion that grooves vigorously through the gateways of your senses. As the banger chorus hits, Arkyalina’s intense vocals are on display in the background, which feels like a desperate scream to be heard as this “ersatz.” Filled with atmospheric strings and samples that enriches the color of the punching resonance. On top of that, Arkyalina and Kashira’s Calix’s mixing production is a seasoning that gives a full-flavor to this delicacy, leaving no ingredient undercooked for the listener to savor. Arkyalina’s diverse musical talent continues to remain evident, fusing a spectrum of ideas into a seamless alternative pop finesse. Once you hear those melodies, the layers of vocals and instruments, it is a magnet that draws you to come back and listen. “Ersatz” further lays groundwork for Arkyalina as an artist, keeping us anticipated on what the shoegaze electronic cyberpsycho will release next.
ALBUM REVIEW: Noa Mal – I’m the outsider, looking in
Written by Nikolai Dineros “Quality over quantity,” a popular adage that has guided countless artisans, artists, and authors in history into crafting masterpieces. However, it appears that Noa Mal is not a huge proponent of this. For the famed lo-fi grunge pop artist, it’s quality through quantity. “I’m the outsider, looking in” marks Noa’s return after a busy four-album run in 2023, a feat that made her stand out from the rest of her contemporaries. And much like her past releases, in true DIY fashion, she handled everything from the writing to the arrangements, and production, all the way to the promotion post-rollout. This level of work ethic is as commendable as it gets, but her 15th album release showed us that her hardworking nature is less of a flex of her discipline and more of a fundamental part of her creative process. With all the roles she assumes under her moniker—as a lyricist, musician, producer, promoter, and as the very character she presents—Noa Mal has always kept a tight grip on the self, compartmentalizing her feelings across different tracks that show different sides of her very complex personality. For example, “Someone Like Me” sees Noa claiming her many tendencies as intrinsic parts of her being, and no other person in the world can come close enough to draw a baseline similarity from which to form a connection. In contrast, “The Serpent” shows her willingness to let someone in, though not without giving caution. These are no unique concepts per se. Even in her past albums, she employed similar approaches to songwriting. While, from this example, she doesn’t steer too far from being a starkly different person from one song to the next, she chops up several aspects of her whole self and scatters them across multiple tracks where nuance can then take shape. As far as her style of lyricism goes, Noa Mal has stuck to her guns in her latest record. However, the same cannot be said about her approach to production, which showed hints of boldness and resistance from her usual artistic disposition. “I’m the outsider, looking in” is arguably the most electronic Noa Mal has ever sounded, which opened new doors to how she packages her music and accentuates her messages. For instance, the guitar work in “I Am Not Someone / Drink from the cup” reached a bellowing low that was never achieved in prior Noa Mal releases. The drum machine displayed in the album has also never sounded more artificial—and, by virtue of grunge, has never sounded more grunge. It was almost as if Noa Mal was rebelling against her past records that never attempted to go all out the way “I’m the outsider, looking in” did. Ultimately, Noa Mal’s uncontested discipline and dedication to her craft extend not only to her work ethic as an artist proven competent in releasing music in quick succession. It is also rooted in the foundations of her creativity. Every piece of music Noa Mal puts out is short and sweet, and every album release is a claim of her individuality with all its many faces, some of which look the same as another but with different intricacies tied to each layer. It is through this sheer quantity of her scattered pieces that she was able to build an image we can never mistake for anybody else in the slowcore umbrella. “I’m the outsider, looking in” provides another piece to that puzzle. Support the art and the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: The Braille Flowers – The Magician Was Shot Dead (Scarlet Rivers)
Written by Nikolai Dineros If you’re just hopping on The Braille Flowers now and this is the first song you hear from them, we won’t blame you if the dream pop aspect raises a few question marks above your head. The four-piece band started their journey by taking a dream pop-adjacent route in “Just to See You” before going on an indie pop direction in “Lately.” And now, with “The Magician Was Shot Dead (Scarlet Rivers),” the band is pushing a flashier and headbang-worthy sound into their mix. Less delicate and more pedal-to-the-metal, “The Magician Was Shot Dead (Scarlet Rivers)” is as direct as it gets for an alt-rock song. From the guitars that are as gritty as The Smashing Pumpkins in their “Gish” days to the shamelessly harmonic guitar fill-in licks and solo section, it’s almost as if The Braille Flowers was measuring how far they can take this loudness without steering too far from their mellower roots. Even the lyrics, courtesy of Francis Masangkay, now have more wit to them. Francis employs a less self-reflective and vulnerable approach in favor of a more playful and adventurous (yet at the same time, cryptic and self-preserve) approach without sacrificing the emotional core of their songwriting seen in their two previous releases. The band was simply having fun putting together “The Magician Was Shot Dead (Scarlet Rivers),” continuously looking for ways to reinvent themselves. It is still up in the air how The Braille Flowers will navigate their sound with all the genres they have already explored and incorporated into their sound in such a short amount of time. If anything, they have proven themselves capable of writing such captivating songs while adopting different styles, with “The Magician Was Shot Dead (Scarlet Rivers)” being their second-most cohesive thematically, only behind their debut “Just to See You.” On one hand, their listener base may not prefer if the band continues to stray from their dream-pop roots. But on the other hand, it would be interesting to see it all come together, now that they have more than just a couple of tools in their toolkit.
EP REVIEW: Daspan En Walis – Askal Projection Vol. 1
Written by Gabriel Bagahansol When you and your friends listen to “Askal Projection Vol. 1” for the first time, it’s imperative that you lock yourselves in a room and let the first track, “619 (Comfort Zone V),” heighten the energy between all of you. You’re going to need all the power you can bottle from that song: once the members of Daspan En Walis unleash an ecstatic force of noise and grooves, you’d all be hopped up from a renewed sense of vitality, which is just what the band would love you to have. After radiating exciting sounds in different spaces up and down Metro Manila, and through a few singles, throughout last year, Daspan En Walis entered 2025 with their very first collection of songs. Listening through the five tracks that make up Askal Projection Vol. 1, it’s clear that their time cutting their teeth in the gig scene is paying off well, as they have delivered action-packed tunes that examine youth in a hopeful but serious way. The band’s roots in the hardcore punk scene means that most of their songs rarely lament the sign of the times, instead imploring the listener to take action right here and right now, and take a good, hard look at themselves while they’re at it. The fuel that drives Askal Projection Vol. 1 is a righteous form of pragmatism. On the first track, lead vocalist Myxj sounds off on people’s inability to get through their plans and problems, wailing “Walang paggalaw dyan! Gumalaw ka naman!” over the sound of chugging guitars and a hypnotic rhythm section. You can imagine people heeding the call and moshing to this at a Daspan En Walis show, but it’s a call they should all remember once they return to their everyday lives. Things slow down a little on “Therefore I Conclude,” which, ironically, is about people who never stop yapping and always shut themselves out from other people’s ideas. In a time where netizens click first and think later, it’s an indictment of the rudeness that has permeated discourse on social media, and a reminder to never get too heated too fast, or “baka’y ikaw ang mauna, una, una.” “Money Harmony,” meanwhile, calls out the bums who keep going broke on their vices. The swing rhythm the band goes into in the middle of the track makes for a delightful mockery of those good-for-nothings that keep asking other people to fund their lifestyle. This ability to sneer at the wrongdoings of the people around them really is the strength of Daspan En Walis on this EP. However, that means that when they talk about trying to get by these same struggles, it can feel as though the music’s losing a little steam: on “Compute to Commute,” Myxj, along with guitarist Randel, now plays a broke person, in the form of a salaryman trying to make sure he has enough money to pay for his commute. It’s a true tale of the perils of petsa de peligro, where Red Sting could be the only thing keeping you going through a day that seems directionless. It’s a sharp turn after three songs where it seems as though the band has got lots of things figured out, making it a bit out of place at first listen, but they make up for it with a solid performance and a very catchy chant for the coda (“Ubos na naman ang aking salapi!”), the type of which punctuates every song on the project. But the highlight within these five songs is the irresistible funk metal number that closes this EP, “143 (Will You Memorize)”, a song of unbridled love for someone whose lips taste sweeter than Mango-flavored Zest-O. Myxj delivers these fantastically ridiculous lyrics about a romance that rivals all of Lino Brocka’s movies in the best possible vessel for them: a throaty voice that wouldn’t have sounded out of place in 2000s radio. Add the walls of distortion courtesy of guitarists Leoj and Randel, and the smooth rhythm played by bassist Ralf and drummer Jhong, and you get the kind of song that would’ve had a warm, highly- saturated music video that kept airing on a certain music video channel twenty years ago. For as much as Daspan En Walis critiques the messiness of youth, they have just as much fun reveling in it. Daspan en Walis’ “Askal Projection Vol. 1” present a band determined to be an optimistic yet serious voice that’ll jolt their audience into making a change for themselves. In a way, the members of Daspan En Walis have indeed channeled the askals braving streets all over the country: strong, self-assured, and fierce enough to make you keep going, all with a big grin on their faces.
TRACK REVIEW: Fresh-iLL Club – INYAFACE
Written by Gabriel Bagahansol At last, P-Pop is huge. Ever since the genre’s explosion in popularity last year, more and more people are now finally noticing the pop groups that have been honing their craft as trainees in the entertainment industry over the last few years. But amidst the highly engineered careers of today’s Filipino boybands, there is still room for boybands of a different kind: one informed by a commitment to make art on their own terms. Fresh-iLL Club is one of these kinds of acts: the hip-hop collective with the mentality of a bonafide unit. Groups like them have the ability to mix their brash attitude, street cred, and blaring beats with the inviting excitement of pop and R&B, and after giving a taste of their sound with a bunch of singles throughout 2024, they close out the year with “INYAFACE” – a track that really sums up what they have to offer now and in the future. On “INYAFACE”, you hear everything you’d come to expect from a hip-hop group with boyband ambitions: cool, braggadocious verses, with some passionate singing for the bridge, delivered to you in smooth, dynamic flows over a siren-beat that never relents. Though in this case, the latter comes off just a little bit tame. Its ferocity is slightly diminished by a mix that dulls the song with a dollop of bass in the wrong place. However, everything else about the beat works. It allows Fresh-iLL Club to be laid back in their delivery, only going full-throttle when they need to. In the middle of the track, members Sebastian Kidd and D.Vaughn spit rapid-fire lines on just how far the group has come to this point, how dedicated they are to their craft, and how the group will become, in Vaughn’s words, “the face of hip-hop.” It’s the perfect segue to a stunning bridge where Vic Olive reanimates prime Bearface (in the grand tradition of hip-hop boybands channeling their inner BROCKHAMPTON) to brag about the collective aura all seven of them have as FC. It’s clear that Fresh-iLL Club wants to take over the scene. Like with every other future superstar, their ambitions come alive in this track, urgency weaving across the music and the words. You must pay attention. While parts of the track indicate their journey to the top is still ongoing, especially when they’re treading the ground their predecessors ran, the future is nevertheless bright for these boys, who may just stand a chance as they go into the new year. They just need to keep reaching their potential until, one day, FC will be on all y’all’s faces. Support the art & the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: Pette Shabu – SPRAK
Written by Jax Figarola The word “sprak” means rage, and rage, after all, is and can be feminine. For centuries, masculinity has been associated with strong emotions like anger and aggression, but realizing that women are always subjected to restrictions and objectifications and all the other painful suffering a woman must endure, then rage is exactly feminine. Pette Shabu’s SPRAK is experimental, transgressive, and confrontational. She wears the beats of industrial hip hop and electronic sounds of techno, metal, hard dance, and then struts, rampages, and jerks us off unapologetically into her frenzied world. The trans goddess asserts herself in the world that her art stems from navigating a violently gendered world, all of which are etched into every synth, every guttural scream, and every angst-laden bar born from personal struggles as a queer woman. With Pette’s lyricism and wordplay cutting sharply reminiscent of FlipTop rap battles and her sound similar to Death Grips, every track demands attention to the lyrics. Naturally, what makes SPRAK so electrifying is her unrelenting commitment to confront the uncomfortable, the violence – the local political landscape, genocidal world leaders, misogyny, and patriarchy. With beats from known local producers in the scene like T33G33, Horseboyy, and Dwaviee, the intense lyrics create an even more abrasive and harsher sounds that seem aggressive to the ears. Yet, listening to her rap over the beats feels like consuming a familiar unknown ulam. You eat them anyway because suddenly you are interested in figuring out that ulam, only to find out that it’s a one of a kind food only available at a specific time and place. No one does it like her. The quick repetitive beats become listenable only because she proves that she’s the only artist capable of rapping on them. But all of this also means that not everyone wants to eat her food, as one’s first listen to Pette Shabu may be surprised with how unorthodox her art is, especially for the wider audience in the Philippines. Nevertheless, her instructions are clear: to cleanse the world of ugliness. She reclaims “pangit” and “ugly,” not as descriptors of physical appearance, but as metaphors for the different faces of her oppression. She rebukes these ugliness with extreme rage, especially after being used to describe her art by those who don’t understand her. The tracks build toward the techno track POKPOK for its climax, a personal favorite, as she spits bars that are both irreverent and deeply personal, reclaiming slurs and shoving them in the faces of those who weaponize them. Beneath the pounding bass and metallic overtones, there’s a catharsis in embodying her anger and emotions with the act of active listening to her rhymes and wordplay. And then, the momentum carries into XDEAL O BARIL and NATURAL HIGH, both techno-heavy songs that sound as though the world is teetering on the edge of collapse. The beats in these closing tracks become euphoric acts of reclaiming and manifesting, which perfectly captures the album’s push and pull between destruction and rebirth. These outro feel like a mirror to SPRAK’s broader themes of queer resistance. Therefore, it ends as violently as it begins. Pette’s art is not for passive listening, as she demands and commands us to witness her narratives of structural violence through her lens. In the chaos, there’s catharsis. In the rage, there’s declaration. And in the rawness, there’s power. The goddess rebirths the world and ascends above it, now she’s untouchable and incomparable. But then again, with such gospel from her, it’s guaranteed to have heathens who would not challenge the self to listen through the queer, chaotic sounds that she’s been through. It’s all because she’s the highest, and there’s no else like her in the Philippines. It’s because she’s Pette fucking Shabu. Support the art & the artist: