Written by Lex Celera Almost three years after ‘WHOLE LOTTA LUVSHIT,’ it’s safe to say that Lil JVibe’s reputation continues to precede him – albeit not in the same way as it was in 2016. Since focusing on music, the rapper has found his niche in shaping Top 40 hits into hip-hop fare through sampling and interpolation. The formula is all but unknown in today’s music landscape – Supafly’s “Answer The G” and Nateman’s “Imma Flirt” come to mind – but no one is as consistently brazen as Lil JVibe. “Prince Say” and “Hip Or Thighs” indicate that there’s nothing that’s stopping him from riding on the coattails of pop’s most earworm-worthy hooks and calling it his own. With ‘2KLUVSHIT,’ Lil JVibe fires a miscellany of tracks that iterate on the same principles of his previous work in the same unbothered, uncohesive manner of a Datpiff mixtape. He does a good job choosing songs that are dated enough not to be overtly overshadowed by the original, but not so far back as to be unfamiliar. Justin Bieber, Neyo, and Ginuwine’s bodies of work are blatantly reborn anew with jersey club and drill elements. Like with the rest of his discography, it’s the reworking of the familiar that draws attention, but it’s the blatant commitment to the bit that makes it enjoyable. It just makes sense to pull directly from a hit to make another hit. “My Doja” is exactly that as it rises above with its take on Ginuwine’s “Differences” in a manner not unlike Pop Smoke’s own take in “What You Know Bout Love.” The result is Lil JVibe at his most riveting, where his experimentation bears fruit without holding back. We’re seeing the same tradition in hiphop upheld by the likes of Max B and Jim Jones, where an artist is known for their remixes. But familiarity works both ways: if a remix brings the original to mind, it’s only natural that hearing any of those sampled tracks now makes us think of Lil JVibe. And that list keeps growing. Support the art and the artist:
REVIEWS
TRACK REVIEW: cosmic suns – Ethereal
Written by Aly Maaño How does one hold on to a moment that’s almost palpable but fleeting? How does one express awe in the face of something ethereal? Sometimes, words hold no meaning when the otherworldly presents itself in forms that make you hold your breath. Hailing from Davao, cosmic suns attempt to express these intangible feelings in their debut single, “Ethereal.” In the world of shoegaze, pedals are tools for creating sensations that go beyond hearing. Cosmic suns know just how manipulate fuzz to achieve textured riffs that explode into microcosms of desire, longing, and turmoil. Their distorted guitars swirl and bend with other instruments while dreamy and distant vocals orbit around them like an invisible knot — connecting each conjured world into a single hazy soundscape. With these elements, “Ethereal” remains loyal to the genre. However, it finds itself treading into skramz territory as the chorus breaks into agonizing screams. But hearing a vocalist desperately screaming in a shoegaze track doesn’t break through the expansive wall of noise but merely complements its obscurity. Drenched in lush reverb and delay, the screams add a haunting effect that only intensifies the heavy emotions the song is channeling. When layered with clean vocals, the result is as visceral as a memory from years ago that leaves a lump in one’s throat. At this point, there’s no need to interpret; we must surrender willfully to the auditory frenzy. Cosmic suns may still be protostars in the vast shoegaze universe, but they already formed the core of their sound in “Ethereal.” In their evolutionary stage, will they continue redefining the genre’s blueprint? For now, we can only watch as they traverse celestial distances one heavenly song at a time. SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST:
TRACK REVIEW: inanotherworld – airfrying chicken nuggets for 10 minutes at 200°C
Written by Aly Maaño The beginning of the year is programmed for a personal reset. People eagerly work on their resolutions or, at least, plan the next step. But it’s not always how it’s set out to be. Some are still reflecting on the past year, revisiting old wounds to process what needs to be left behind. inanotherworld’s latest single, “airfrying chicken nuggets for 10 minutes at 200°C,” lets us linger in this period of reflection before release. This five-minute track blends the heavier sound of shoegaze with the slacker tempo and somber composition of slowcore to capture the dissonance of existing in a world that rewards constant movement over stillness. It starts with a chaotic frenzy of drums, pedal distortions, and glitchy frequencies that seem to echo an initial frustration. But it’s nothing that a long walk can’t subdue. This is what the first half of the song feels like. A long walk around the city after coming back from school or work after the holidays. The gloomy tone of the guitars pulls the listener out of their reality to observe what lies beyond the concrete jungle and urban sprawl. Even with melodies meant to evoke a melancholic mood, the track ironically inspires the listener to romanticize life and find serenity amidst the chaos. With beautiful, ghostly vocals accompanying sparse instrumentation, the experience is stretched out into a hundred blissful moments. As seen in the track’s cover art, snippets of the cityscape feel like a much-needed pause to take everything in. By the second half, “airfrying chicken nuggets for 10 minutes at 200°C” unfurls into a euphoric outburst, bringing banging snares and heavier riffs forward. During this prolonged sequence, a sense of comfort is instilled through sound rather than emotional lyricism. The repetition of downbeat melodies is meditative, healing almost. In this track, inanotherworld morphs common themes of slowcore — defeatism and somber slow burns — into a calm renewal. It turns a normal evening walk into an introspection while everything else moves in linear time. SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST:
ALBUM REVIEW: Feng – Weekend Rockstar
Written by Nikolai Dineros From his fish-out-of-water stories, inebriated romance attempts, and youthful recklessness across the board, Feng tries to reinvent the rock-and-roll star image through maximalism-veiled minimalism. In his first major album release, ‘Weekend Rockstar,’ the English-Filipino rapper follows a formula: take the scruff from the cloud rap template, then spruce it up with more contemporary elements of his time. Sometimes, this is done as a display of ingenuity, and other times, as a hint of the undercookedness of some ideas served too early. Except for his more daring ventures — such as in “F’d Up,” “J*b,” and “XOXO” — where Feng doubles down on the dreamy ambience produced by layers of glitchy synths and sample chops paired with his mellow delivery, much of ‘Weekend Rockstar’ falls short in capturing the self-flagellating levels of devotion rockstars give to the pathos of their sound; rather, they aggregate the unsuccessful attempt at embellishing a sound with unnecessary polish. Coincidentally, these three examples are also some of his most emotionally potent on the album, and the most Feng sounded like a rockstar. However, some of his more passive performances — like in “Dopest Girl,” “Superstar,” and “Best Friend” — exhibit a positive contrast to Feng’s bombastic highlights. But where Feng’s artistic direction stumbles, his storytelling shines. ‘Weekend Rockstar’ is best seen as a journal of a coming-of-age narrator in a drunken stupor for greatness. Deeply entrenched in the cold, dreary streets of his UK upbringing, Feng was upfront about his desire to add color to his life. By moving to the United States, as he aptly shared in his energetic album opener, “Cali Crazy,” he believed his life was about to change — that he was about to become the rockstar he was always destined to become. From there, Feng further explores the daze of becoming “teenage famous” through events of pure, juvenile ecstasy that he wears on his sleeves. These experiences range from hating his job before his big break (“J*b”), lamenting the changes to a new life (“Fireworks”), and failed relationships turned casual hookups (“XOXO” and “Ex Sex”). Softening the blow is “Superstar,” where Feng’s own admissions to the pitfalls of fame that he may be ensnared by (or the thoughts thereof that are keeping him awake at night) are on full display. Though whether there is guilt involved in these displays of vulnerability, we can not tell entirely, as his laidback approach to singing masks the true sentiment behind the flex.Whether he comes from a place of pride or shame, Feng believes these experiences will make him a rockstar, even just for a weekend. His pen game already proves that he has the makings of one. But in order to realize his full potential, he now needs to think about just how much farther his stardom can reach. Support the art & the artist:
SOUNDS OF THE SEA: CURB (Singapore)
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.
EP REVIEW: Fleeca Atmos – Keepin’ Up
Written by Adrian Jade Francisco Reuben Gonzales’ debut project ‘Keepin’ Up’ arrives somewhere between vintage pop nostalgia and the blow-burn sprawl of post-rock. A long-held memory, suspended in a grain of film—pale, worn, and hazy, where Fleeca Atmos invites you to step out of the noise of the present. Throughout the EP, analog textures, guitars, and synths conjure the ghost of a sun-faded era of pop. Rather than settling for mere retro-worship, Fleeca Atmos pulls at the edge of the sound—widening the frame to let the production breathe. The opening track, “Delorean Drives by the Old Compound,” is a poignant exploration of grief that manifests as a literal desire to outrun the clock, a fantasy of driving back to “Fairview” to bargain for what was lost. ‘Keepin’ Up’ finds its resolution in “Hermeto Hum,” after isolation through the descriptions of ‘life in space’ in “Moon’s Dust.” By going through the past, the void, and the present, the EP goes full circle, where Fleeca Atmos once begged to ‘change time’ to avoid pain, he realizes the only path he has is to change himself (“If I can change then I am free”). Gonzales writes in fragments and images, using repeated lines to act as emotional landmarks rather than a straightforward narrative. Ultimately, ‘Keepin Up’ functions as a sonic exhaling of the soul. Fleeca Atmos has crafted a debut that is both an ending and arrival. The EP proves that while we cannot drive back to the memories we’ve lost, we can find a profound, sun-drenched freedom in finally choosing to move forward. SUPPORT THE ART & THE ARTIST:
TRACK REVIEW: Asian Panganay – Disconnection Notice
Written by JK Caray Asian Panganay’s debut single, ‘Disconnection Notice, ‘ talks about Filipino family dynamics in an intimate, sobering way, centering on the panganay’s perspectives. As their band name suggests, Asian Panganay is an all-asian, all-Panganay, all-girls quintet. This common attribute allows them to have the personal edge that pops out of their debut single. Right off the bat, ‘Disconnection Notice’ starts strong and hollow, even vacant, though not in a bad way. A drum beat dragging itself on and simple riffs being fed through delay pedals give a sense of motion without the drive that actually brings it to life. This gives the song more dimensions in how it tackles the subject matter. The line “I don’t have anything to say/You never hear me anyway” distills all those years of neglect, accompanied by vocals that draw the line between ache and exhaustion. In a way, it acts as a parallel to the times when eldest daughters are expected to keep carrying on, even as fatigue eats them inside. For such a bold entry, the song has already generated a brand that audiences can look forward to. This can either be a pro or a con, depending on whether the band leans into it or decides to switch it up for their upcoming releases. For now, releasing ‘Disconnection Notice’ as their debut single was a necessary move to solidify the band’s striking presence in the current scene. Now that they’ve given a voice to the unheard heroes of a Filipino family, where will Asian Panganay steer the ship next? SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST:
TRACK REVIEW: A Piloto – Asphyxia
Written by Louis Pelingen A Piloto’s comeback song since the past two years immediately wrestles with a shocking surprise splattered through his writing: an old friend just died near his neighborhood. The chills that he encounters through that information fill his entire nerves, wracking him with a desperate plea for connection that turns into solemn avoidance at the end. It’s emotionally haphazard that A Piloto expresses well, with his raw vocals just storming through all that tense situation. The frigid indie rock spirit allows “Asphyxia” to rhythmically heave, as the grooves just charge through with shaky guitar maneuvers that explode onto the chorus. It never loses its raucous flair from the start, up till its very ending. Foggy ambience and gentle guitar atmospherics now give enough space for A Piloto. He now gets to simmer what has come to pass, calmly taking his time to breathe before moving onwards, even with the ache still weighing on his shoulders. Support the art and the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: mrt – all roads lead to cubao (or wherever my grave may be instead)
Written by Louis Pelingen What would inevitably become an interesting talking point later down the line is how the next generation – in this case, the Gen Alphas – will eventually carve their paths through a lot of the music spaces thriving right now. While it is early to say how they will respond and evolve past the local indie and mainstream music zeitgeists, observing how they’d touch upon the sounds and tones to assess their craft is enough to look into. At least for the time being. Case in point, the past few releases that 15 year old mrt has released last year immediately pull a lot of the alternative rock and screamo influences – think acts like Sintasan, North Sentinel, and Walktrip – that swerved into lo-fi, raw fidelities. Those two EPs – ‘hermosa’ and ‘bokeh’ – certainly tiptoed towards those tones, from mrt’s attempts to sing and scream across shambling production, to post-breakup wallowing that is peppered across his lyrics. Now, what “all roads lead to cubao (or wherever my grave may be instead)” does is sharpen his melodic instincts amidst an exercise in dynamics. It starts off with a lilting guitar passage contrasted with his composed screams, then the song breaks out into fuzzed-out shoegaze while mrt leans more on moodier singing. It effectively reinforces the emo-tinged emptiness that is buried in this track. All in all, mrt still has ways to go before he eventually hammers down the strengths in his songcrafting, yet the intrigue to do a bit more in this song does show some promise. The projects that he has currently pulled off might not blow things away, especially with how the alt-rock and hardcore scenes have only developed into fascinating nooks and crannies; there’s nothing wrong with testing things out. At the very least, he’s familiarizing himself by trying, and that’s good enough for now. Support the art and the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: Addy Pantig – Sandstorm
Written by Rory Marshall Addy Pantig heeds the listener with one thing: a warning. “Sandstorm” is an admonition explored through metaphor, showcasing the pitfalls of lost time, delivered through soulful blues rock, and with this being her debut single, it’s as gutsy as it is dramatic. Sandstorm paints a picture of gravitas and intensity, each line like a brush stroke to the canvas. The song is set in a room that’s slowly filling up with sand, and a girl, frozen in fear, realizes it’s too late. Addy has a knack for narrative, and her lyrics are a testament to that. Her “show, don’t tell” method of songwriting set the scene so well, and because of that, the experience lof istening to the track is nothing short of cinematic. The anxiety that comes with time running out rings through in her words and is further highlighted with the dramatic instrumental. Starting slowly with a steady acoustic guitar and vocals, with added elements joining in the setup as each bar progresses: an eerie violin, the muted drums, and the bass to carry the whole track, as if each new instrument is another grain of sand filling up the room. Then the build-up comes to fruition in the chorus, crashing down like a sudden moment of realization. The blues rock style complements the storytelling style of the lyrics well, which is prominent in blues. “Sandstorm” is an exemplary showcase of the magic she weaves into the music she has a hand in: Addy’s lyrics that bring with them storytelling and narrative, paired with the quiet yet intense passion that gilds her vocal performance. We’ve seen elements like this in her past work in different projects, and it’s refreshing to hear them still standing strong in her solo work. This track is the first of hopefully many, and will no doubt lay a great foundation for any tracks she releases in the future. SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST: