Shanghai is a bustling area in China, a dazzling cultural cradle where so much creative artistry has thrived the most. Music, especially, had a prominent presence in the place since the 1920s, acting as the origin place of Shidaiqu – a genre that intertwines Chinese folk and Hollywood film music – as well as the main area for Western jazz to proliferate in the country. Those western influences never strayed, but kept in close distance within so much of Chinese music. Despite the difficulty in opening up people’s perspectives towards Jazz, the jazz scene in Shanghai continues to prosper and branch out into its own territory, letting newer musicians experiment with the genre and bring something unique out of it. Enamoured with the Jazz scene in Shanghai, Voision Xi has set a mission to immerse herself within it, eventually heading there after college to explore her musical endeavors. Despite being self-taught, meeting various musicians while working behind the scenes of JZ Club has trained and taught her immensely, allowing her to jump out into the spotlight in 2015 with Little Happiness Group, a small jazz band that comprised of her and other jazz musicians such as guitarist Zhang Xiongguan and Xiao Jun, saxophonist Li Shihai, and others more. Working together for 3 years has eventually led to their only release in 2018, ‘DEBUT’. A short EP that twists the melodic foundations of tracks like Nick Drake’s “River Man” and Stevie Wonder’s “Cause We’ve Ended As Lovers” into something vibrant. Brewing these classic songs with a different arrangement altogether, a variation done well by Voision Xi alongside the rest of the fellow jazz musicians that have worked with her on this EP. That experimentation only goes deeper, following things up in 2021 with the ‘4 loops in her way’ EP that displays her curiosity with ambient soundscapes. Using nothing but the OP-1 synthesizer and the Ableton Live software to create small, yet expressive ambient pieces. A testing point to her progression as an artist, a tease to how she’ll eventually blend her jazz influences with ambient tapestries. All of this eventually leads to Voision Xi’s debut album in 2022, ‘Lost For Words’. A grand self-expression that pulls so much from her gradual exploration as an artist, bringing so much of her experiences, emotions, and voices that swirl into a lot of fascinating ventures across ambient, folk, and jazz palettes, releasing so many words and expressions worth hearing. Further accompanied by various musicians – names like Kaidi Tatham, ILL MO, and Little Happiness Group being some of them – that amplify the album’s thematic concept. Providing so much distinctive moments across the otherwise impeccably rich record, from the vocal thrills that’s accompanied by nimble guitars and delicate woodwinds on “Monday Spirit”, Voision Xi’s spoken word and ILL MO’s rap flow blending immaculately across the lush jazz flourishes of “Butterfly, A Hyaline Beauty”, the soaring rock crescendos that gives “Magnetic Field” its pulsing rhythm and “Turn on the Planet” a spacious expanse across its lilting ambience, the jazzy freakout that occurs on “Hypnotist”, the lilting samba jam on “Ladders”, and the hypnotic ambient escapades that opens up on “Wolverine (Silent Chaos)” and “Crystalline Improv”. Skyrocketing Voision Xi’s artistic potential into the stratosphere. Her unique experimentation holds no bounds. Her approach to her sound continues to flourish two years later, following up with her sophomore album, ‘Queen and Elf’. It’s a record that still embraces her jazz roots, but there’s more focus on soothing walls of ambient electronics that colors the melodies with quaint pensiveness, one that makes sense within Voision Xi’s introspection surrounding holding onto our overall emotions amidst the process of letting go and coming back, a constant experience that inevitably comes with getting older. It’s a tangled emotion, yet Voision Xi manages to create a clear picture of that feeling through the set of lively electronica and gorgeous Bjork-inspired a cappella that blushes up the tender jazz compositions. Songs like “Birdling”, “Prelude To A Fortune”, and “Southern Shanghai” are trickled with liquid soundscapes, with electronic bits and swells adding more to their ethereal aura. Jazz leaning cuts such as the Bossa Nova of “Leaf Sheep”, the sweeping instrumentation of “No.8 Signal”, and the buoyant rhythms of “Muse (For Joyce)” are vivid in their melodic compositions, Voision Xi’s masterful production work amplifies the organic texture that the melodies bring to the table. The most entrancing moments in the album are the slow-building ambient tunes that open to an even evocative section. “How Do You Hold A Moonbeam?” is laced with cooing harmonies, accompanied by bright pianos and grooves just before Voision Xi’s vocalizations push further into the forefront. “We Could Be Shy” brings along woodwinds and pianos that gently accompany the drawn-out vocal lines, leading to the back half where the jazz restraint breaks apart into this post-rock progression with plenty of bright crescendos and soaring vocals. And “Kagi” takes its 6-minute excursion to explore, with cascading synths and pianos enveloping the vocals into a mystical cocoon, giving the path for the woodwinds to swoon. Eventually lifting up the grooves and the vocal harmonies to a heavenly sway. Voision Xi’s overall discography can only come from someone whose passion for jazz and electronica is treated in a way where experimentation and thoughtful observation are a must. An expression of her unique creative spirit that passed through so many experiences working in the Shanghai jazz scene and learning with jazz musicians in the local and international scenes, finally giving her the confidence to voice out her extraordinary talent and pulling together some of the vibrantly impressive jazz records in the 2020s. Constantly playing and touring, Voision Xi never stops exploring enticing soundscapes, opening more ears to what Shanghai’s jazz scene has to offer.
REVIEWS
SABAW SESSIONS: BARBIE ALMALBIS
When adversity strikes, Barbie Almalbis’ songwriting prevails; she takes her pain and either releases, soothes, or embraces it through her words, her conversations with her loved ones, and, of course, through her impeccable skills on the guitar.
TRACK REVIEW: Gaspari – KODAK BLU
Written by Lex Celera Gaspari, (also known as Gaspari 777) of Greenhouse Records has quietly become the go-to producer for GHR artists like Sica, SUPAFLY, and Gat Putch, while also gaining traction in wider hip-hop circles through collaborations with NIO, Yuridope, and Lexus. In a 2023 event to promote their upcoming album, Lexus of OWFUCK, hands on his chest, proclaimed Gaspari as one of his top music producers of choice: Then a relative unknown, he produced several track in the rap group’s EP ACIDIC, including the eponymous lead single. By 2024, Gaspari’s name carried more weight, most notably in Gat Putch’s “Crazy” featuring Sica, of which he has production, mixing, and mastering credits. Gaspari’s increased visibility wasn’t as much of a meteoric rise as it was a silent encroachment, racking up credits in some of Philippine hip-hop’s brightest and loudest in the past few years. Upon looking at his discography pre-Greenhouse Records, the Filipino-Italian producer began his career as a rapper as well, with one of his singles from this previous era still publicly available on his YouTube channel. It’s unclear which of the two came first, but 2025 marked his resurgence as a listed emcee with SUPAFLY’s “Puff Me Up,” Buddahbeads’ “Rollin,” and two of Gaspari’s own “BLOCKA FREESTYLE.” This resurgence pushed Gaspari into the limelight, and with it, a unique style that has become emblematic of his recent work: Punchy delivery and simple, catchy rhyme drowned out in a drowsy, effervescent voice. Out of his current discography, Gaspari shines the most in his solo track “KODAK BLU.” Twinkling piano-like melodies layered on a sparse production of synths, 808s, and percussion form a tantalizing instrumental where Gaspari’s viscous flow sticks out. The repetition of the already catchy hook allows “KODAK BLU” to borrow not just from the contemporary hip-hop playbook but also from the so-called algorithm-latching habits of music today. The same delivery, themes, and lyrics can be seen in his short recent discography; Beyond changes in beats and collaborators, his music struggles to offer variety. Maybe it is the hip-hop artist’s role to create and release permutations of its best qualities to see what sticks, and then abide by it until it wears itself off. By these ends, “KODAK BLU” emerges as the stickiest and most compelling out of Gaspari’s recent verses. But what’s most interesting about “KODAK BLU” is its title: a nod to Atlanta rapper Kodak Black. In mentioning his name in the title, Gaspari drives the connection between his own body of work and Kodak Black’s apparent. “KODAK BLU” is not an attempt to adapt Kodak Black’s persona to tell a story. There are kernels within the formula he works with that can feel uniquely his, especially as he tries out different flows in the second verse. Is Gaspari innovating or just borrowing? Both can be true. Hip-hop has always been a genre that thrives on its references, either through interpolation, sampling, or borrowing lines. And if Cardi B can make “No Flockin” into her very own “Bodak Yellow,” there’s space for Gaspari to conjure up the same formula and make it his own. Time will tell if he will wear out his welcome under the trappings he has made for himself in past months. “KODAK BLU,” meanwhile, is his foot in the door to possibly bigger and greater things – granted that he choose to mutate, instead of just permutate. Support the art and the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: Supafly — GRA GRA GC10SHEEP
Written by Elijah P. Greenhouse Records has never been short on rappers—the kind who call themselves “young stunnas” with a straight face, or the ones who treat head-to-toe blue as a genuine lifestyle rather than a fashion choice. Some are punchlines, others are bullet magnets, but Supafly? He’s built differently. Or at least that’s the idea. His latest album, GRA GRA GC10SHEEP, positions itself as a victory lap following 2022’s BAKASAKALI and his collaboration album with Because, but three years is a long time in rap, and Greenhouse’s rise—marked by block parties, barangay SK gigs, and a UP Fair slot—hasn’t necessarily sharpened Supafly’s edge. If anything, it’s left him leaning on a crew that’s more crutch than cavalry. Tracks like “LOOT” (featuring Hellmerry) and “Batista Bomb” stand out precisely because they’re among the few where Supafly doesn’t drown in guest verses. There’s a swagger here that doesn’t require a posse to prop it up—no filler, no dead space. But those moments are rare. Too often, GRA GRA GC10SHEEP feels like a relay race where nobody drops the baton, but nobody really sprints either. The album’s midsection is a revolving door of Greenhouse’s usual suspects: Gat Putch, Buddahbeads, Lexus, and Sica. Their verses don’t elevate each other; they congest the tracklisting from start to finish. On “AUTOFLY,” a hook that could’ve hit hard instead lands like an afterthought, buried under a testosterone pile-up. Worse, the production leans on references so blatant they border on parody. “SIZZURP” rides a Memphis bounce that’s less homage and more hand-me-down, while “BATISTA BOMB” nicks the skeletal menace of Travis Scott and Playboi Carti’s “FE!N” without adding anything new. When the album works, it’s despite itself. “LOOT,” “BALAGBAGAN,” and “DGHR” are chaotic in the best way; the kind of tracks where the energy feels live-wired, unpredictable, and hard-hitting production-wise. But this is supposed to be Supafly’s show, and GRA GRA GC10SHEEP rarely lets him own it. For a rapper who’s spent years carving out a name, this album oddly insists he’s just another face in the crowd. The irony? Greenhouse’s rise might’ve given him a bigger stage, but here, he’s still playing backup. Support the art and the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: Michael Seyer – Boylife
Written by Faye Allego During the peak years of the Bedroom music era, Michael Seyer was indeed in his bedroom and making music described as “Beachy Stoner Rock,” Alternative Dreampop, and even Hypnagogic Pop. However, his body of work is far from your typical bedroom sound: his debut album, Ugly Boy, is like that one SB-129 episode from SpongeBob in the way that existential longing and loneliness are its primary themes; in “Bad Bonez”, Seyer reconstructs a warm, aching sorrow that would be heard instead of being seen in an Edvard Munch painting; and in A Good Fool, a newer, heavier wave of tenderness that was slightly hinted in his Nostalgia EP tugs your heartstrings with more depth than any of his previous work. In Boylife, Michael Seyer doesn’t offer a coming-of-age bedroom pop anthem or a grand expedition on the epic highs and lows of navigating masculinity in the Fil-Am diaspora. Released under his brand new, independent DIY label Seyerland, the new album shares the same warm, subtle hues from his previous work through his persistent use of slow-moving percussion, delay effects, a mushy vignette of white and brown noises, and his loosely subdued vocals — only that this time, Seyer’s lair of creativity sheds layers of existential tensions and packs in horizons of growth, reflection, and endless love. Taking inspiration from John Lennon’s Plastic Ono Band where Lennon randomly adds a Cookie Monster adlib in “Hold On” to make the song more fun, personal, and maybe even hint an inside joke that the listener can’t understand, Seyer surely reflects on these quirks: forming his own knicks and bolts to create an effect in a dozen tracks of pure sound and soul that is 100% his own unique story. It’s a risky yet intimate act of connection between the songwriter and the listener when the former writes music for their own reflections only. We see Seyer take that risk in Boylife, dissecting boyhood through the overarching theme of his art: nostalgia. His unfiltered essence then transforms into shared emotion, where tracks like “Folktales,” “Taylor,” and “I Want To Be Your Dog” become hymns, choruses, and letters that come from understanding and experiencing. The first three songs off of Boylife are a Dolly-effect zoom into where Michael Seyer is in his mind: he’s everywhere. The album begins as a sensory experience — it unfolds less like repetitive songs and more like a grounding technique for a young man realising that he has a place in this world, and now questions himself: “Is there something a man is supposed to become?” and even takes a jag at God to realise what love could mean in “Fiend,” where he sings “I need God, God’s not back.” With each passing track, being worried about Michael Seyer is a non-negotiable. “Don’t Worry” uses a descending melody as Seyer descends into a full-fledged crash-out– an honest yet cannon event for most people. Followed by a messy drum sequence in “Manlife,” the listener is then whiplashed at the very end as a nearly inaudible, muffled voice that is Seyer’s Father reaching out to him: “Hey Migs, it’s Dad, call me.” Perhaps it’s safe to say that sometimes, all it takes is a voice call from a loved one to snap back into the real world, or to look through a lens that isn’t so clouded with grain and distortion. Speaking of distortion, the latter end of Boylife shies away from the loudness and upbeat songs about growing pains and stays loyal to the Lennon-esque demos and outtakes approach, where the primary instrument is an acoustic guitar that is paired with timeless serenades of love poems and reassurances. The lines “We can be ghosts together/And we’ll disappear/ We can be ghosts together/ When there’s no one near” conclude and showcase Seyer’s most deeply quiet yet distilled form. He isn’t trying to resolve the chaos of Boyhood, he instead embraces it. He embraces the liminality, the softness, the ache. Michael Seyer gifts a scrapbook of memories through ambient noise, whispered admissions, squeaky yet steady vocals, certainly a Stratocaster of sorts, likely a second-hand synthesiser from the Glam Rock era, and lovesick lullabies that feel so intimate yet so profoundly universal. Michael Seyer doesn’t gift a resolution but more a revelation to himself: the revelation of becoming. Becoming a son, a boy, a man, an artist, a lover, a person, and all the feelings that come with that. Support the art and the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: Jiji – Paborito
Written by Louis Pelingen At first glance, “Paborito” might seem like a sweetly tuned love song, where Jiji carries so much twinkling charm in her vocals. Softly cooing with an effortless grace that never takes away the listener’s attention, as the pluggnb beat carries enough bubbly texture from the glistening synths and the 808 beats that keep the atmosphere more joyous. She allows the catchy set of melodies to shimmer, all with a wink and a grin. But take a closer look, and some layers manage to peer through in the writing. Beneath this fluttering tune is a casual relationship that eventually has to end, where despite the wholesome moments being shared and the pure trust that’s being made in each other, Jiji knows that she’s not exactly prepared to really commit. Eventually ending the song with direct communication, cutting the relationship with no ill will on either person’s side. Musically pleasant and lyrically tender, “Paborito” is a song that gently leads to a decision that never takes away the special moments that were made in the relationship. Filling the glossy atmosphere with a sweetness that’ll stay for a long time. Even after the relationship has ended, the charming memories that were made will continue to be a favorite in Jiji’s heart. Support the art and the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: MoonDream City – Road Song
Written by Louis Pelingen Let’s all be blunt: there’s nothing wrong when pop-rock band MoonDream City starts embracing experimentation and throwing a ridiculous number of ideas at the wall. In order to eventually find artistic growth, it’s always a good thing for an artist to just test the waters in whatever genre or style shift they’re trying to approach and go from there, where eventually, they’ll be able to find some focus after trying whatever diversion they’re digging into. Experimentation could either be a hit or a miss. It could be successful or novel. There’s no in between. This eventually extends to how an act markets a shift in their sound that doesn’t always mean it’s bound to be the next “new genre,” an intriguing observation in forming a unique distinction amongst their contemporaries, even if this marketing trick will be a double-edged sword. Garnering the reactions that they might want, but not exactly the ones they’ll need long-term. These observations are relevant to Bon Jubert and Muntinlupa Jazzcore Society, acts that operate under the recently coined “ebascore”, a newly formed sound that loosely combines socially aware themes alongside jazz, funk, metal, and spoken poetry elements, then displays all of them with novelty and flashiness. MoonDream City’s ‘Road Song’ is a recent addition to this, throwing away their pop-rock instincts and replacing them with intense vocal shouts that toss between nu-metal, jazz, and funk grooves. On the basis of the finesse and volume alone, the song definitely pulls the listener into the whirling chaos that the band brings to the surface. A brief enough tune that unleashes emotional wallow and technical verve, but doesn’t exactly do much more with the compositions. Serving as a direction that brings the band to something new, but with the way the song is promoted paired with the hollowness of “ebascore”, the track falls apart really fast. What fails with the band’s attempt for their stylistic shift is twofold: one is the social commentary that’s given with vague winks, relying upon shouty complaints rather than precisely delving deeper into what made commuting such a hellscape for everyone. It may unleash those enraged emotions, yet their observation feels short-sighted and individualistic. Focusing a lot more on losing one’s beep card, switching from another FX, waiting for a less crowded jeepney, and lacking change to pay for a trike. A presentation of everyday occurrences that don’t offer much depth about the issue being discussed. But the more concerning issue is the flashy presentation that shrinks the execution to a mush. Bringing raw intensity that disguises the lack of structured melodies, flashy musicianship that simultaneously becomes self-indulgent, various genre fusions that are stitched in a half-baked way –- all of which only leads to the novelty of the sound borrowed from spoken-word style of Radioactive Sago Project or The Axel Pinpin Propaganda Machine ending up flimsy and surface-level, delivered in a neutered manner that doesn’t try to reach the verbosity and the melodic flourish of such acts. Leaving the output to end up like a sketched out impression of those sonic reference points, rather than allowing the band to take bigger risks and go for broke with their stylistic shift. To the band’s credit, it is a curious diversion from wherever they’re aiming to go in the future, yet the general ironic promotion and how it translates to the music only results in a song whose novelty and flash don’t bring more to what it’s being hyped about from the start. What ‘Road City’ — and the general “ebascore” trend as a whole — unfortunately sounds like an Oscar-nominated flick that aims to bring deeper themes, but once watched, the actual insights end up shallow and self-impressed. Stuffing technical stylism more than injecting substance into its thematic essence. Support the art and the artist:
MIXTAPE REVIEW: orteus – surgery
Written by Anika Maculangan As digicore begins to rise above its niche alcove with more artists like quinn, ericdoa, and blackwinterwells are starting to take on the genre. In surgery, orteus rides on the wave of Silent Hill’s aesthetic of liminal decay, implementing grunge tonalities that complement those glitchy overtones, we so often hear in hyperpop. While the thematic elements are depressing, dark, and bleak, fast-paced drum loops and maximalist synth lines counteract the gloominess that is rather highlighted, creating reactions that are antithetical to one another, but somehow complementary. Jam-packed with strong distortion and vocaloid, it’s almost eerie and unsettling to hear such distressing lyrics accompanied by such sweet instrumentals. But isn’t that the point of ‘eyestraincore’? Be vastly chaotic? Much like the internet, these facets are deliberately made to be in opposition to one another in hopes of creating that purposeful clash. With atmospheric qualities that are in reference to medical diction, layers of deep bass and snappy percussion, these elements amplify the depth, which allude to such concepts of artificiality and post-dystopia. In surgery, orteus collaborates with other artists, who mostly become evident in the treatment of vocals — some scaling from high-pitched, to more ‘soundcloud rap’ adjacent. This range among the tracks orchestrates a sense of diversity, which ensures that the flow doesn’t remain too monotonous to the standard rhythmic chops of 808s and pixelated effectors. Looking at songs like “you can’t just wait to be in a coma”, which have words that start to mish-mash into one another, the auditory mayhem is most recognizable, practically wreaking havoc on our ears, but in a fashion that’s considerably inspired and expressive. Incorporating these exaggerated motifs, while including such features as pronounced auto-tune and emphasis on trap-like inflections, the EP fits in well with the rest of the genre’s offerings. It isn’t inherently anything new or fresh, for its recycling of overused processes and manipulations within digicore, but it does take after the movement successfully, and guarantees that it treats it with respect. However, it goes without saying that the EP is more reflective of nightcore and crunkcore, especially since it focuses so much on steampunk-derived sensibilities. But one can wish that digicore projects may eventually try to be more daring in their progression as they evolve, since the whole point is to essentially employ a new approach to pop music. What bold nature would there be if we stick to the same accents? orteus could make do with further amplifying their usage of certain characteristics like the sharpening of reverb or application of intentional static in specific breaks. These are all modes of execution that, if better utilized, could make their sound more sonically creative. However, orteus was able to demonstrate a slight edge to her music: the abrupt pauses in between the tracklist. These random bouts of open air instigate a pause that leaves the listener cautious of when the next abrasive but dreamy beat may drop. Going through the album, the listener is constantly presented with an extensive span of oscillations. Although with a new digicore artist, there is always more potential and possibility for inventive patterns that either modify or disrupt the pre-existing. Support the art and the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: Fatigued – Negative Tide
Written by Adrian Jade Francisco The debut album from Fatigued arrives not with a bang, but with a whisper — yet its emotional resonance is anything but quiet. Nearly five years later, Emilio Gonzales’ solo project approaches to submerge us in the sentimental undercurrent of ‘Negative Tide’. Fatigued’s ten-track album is an introspective indie pop journey through uncertainty and quiet resilience, reflecting the experiences of the musician during the hectic process of ‘Negative Tide’. The opening track, “Oversized Words,” explores the struggle of articulating emotions and emotional disconnection in presence of hazy guitars, which is a prevalent theme throughout the release. A notable track “Temples” is a poignant commentary on the difficulty of self-improvement, expressing discontent with social expectations or conventions. Leaning on instrumentation, and the lyrics take a subtler, more restrained approach in “Take the Beating,” establishes the plea of emotional exile the best; the lines “Send me / To a home I used to be / Alone with my thoughts” echoes the theme of the album’s title and tone. What makes the track compelling is its stripped-back approach and emotional honesty holds back just enough to let the listener linger in the tension, the ache, and the silence of resignation. Fatigued channels his influences into something distinctively personal, crafting a sound that serves as a vessel for his ruminations. “Instant Disconnection” serves as a conclusion to its themes of inner turmoil and emotional exhaustion. While the album as a whole leans into a consistent mood of bleak introspection, it offers a subtle shift: not necessarily toward resolution, but toward resignation or quiet acceptance. The strength indeed lies in its thematic consistency and emotional honesty. Gonzales does not shy away from exploring discomfort and vulnerability. The lyrical quality is not overly abstract, making the weight of the tracks accessible and relatable to the listener. However, while the songs blend into one another, it lacks further dynamic shifts that could cover more emotional and sonic textures. The middle section of the album lacks space for experimentation; However, its sincerity and homage to the genre is still intact. ‘Negative Tide’ is a compelling indie pop monologue of emotional unrest. Fatigued’s sophomore album doesn’t just express vulnerability but inhabits it fully. The album has an unwavering commitment to thematic consistency and emotional transparency. Gonzales lives in a world where discomfort is explored with sincerity and grit, the band shows no signs of exhaustion — if anything Fatigued’s creative tide is still rising. For an album steeped in emotional unrest, it ends with remarkable clarity. Support the art and the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: tuesday trinkets – Cigarettes, Beer, & Stray Cats
Written by Noelle Alarcon Davao-based trio tuesday trinkets possess an eclectic demeanor to their name. Each of their heads is tinged with neon, and their personalities are written all over their cover art; From the distinctive ways they dress to the playful doodles over their faces. Their sound on the other hand? A promising, syrupy brand of power pop that would reverberate through the end of a 2000s chick flick. Endearing and reminiscent of good times long forgotten, like a trinket you dig up from a coat pocket on a random Tuesday. “Cigarettes, Beer, and Stray Cats,” tuesday trinkets’ debut single, is a bright, beaming introduction to what they have to offer. The plush guitar welcomes you: it’s fuzzed out enough to welcome you into a cozy atmosphere, but sharp enough to be radio-friendly. It’s a tasteful style akin to the way record label Dirty Hit crafts the whimsy of early aughts pop for the 21st century. Even the bass and drums are simple enough to let the song’s message shine through, zeroing in on delivering as much impact as possible. The thumping of the strings marches along the frets, a catchy bassline in between the tracks that makes way for the snare drum-drenched rhythm evoking as much nostalgia as it can. The band’s capabilities of writing catchy pop are audibly from experience; their influences undeniably nestle in between the lines. As early as their first single, they know how to tweak the blueprint to match their strengths. Their written word captures the zeitgeist of what it means to date in your youth. Smoking a pack of cigarettes together, feeding cats you consider your babies, and living for nothing else but the moment. It’s a love story plucked straight from Polaroids and crumpled, handwritten letters with promises written in cursive. Sure, there are plenty of other songs that sound like this one–but their awareness of what makes a song memorable shows that they’re headed in the right direction. It’s the simplicity of their approach that easily touches the listener. “Cigarettes, beer, and stray cats…” — the lyric echoes throughout the track until its conclusion. It’s such a simple set of words, but with the way tuesday trinkets paints the scene, they end up as components of moments you’ll relive until your very last breath. With a band as capable as them when it comes to invoking sentimentality, those who like to look back have a new shoulder to cry on. Whenever things get too heavy, there’s a pack of Marlboro reds, a cold bottle of beer, and a bunch of felines waiting to rest with you. Support the art and the artist: