PURE BLISS NO WORRIES is the second album released by Bling, a Filipino-American band based in Los Angeles. Irony is an ever-present theme throughout this 26-minute record. The grainy noise gradually builds up together like an anxious thought, unlike what the album title suggests. Another irony is that “build-up” never reaches an apex. The tracks feel like they are itching to be listened to on a train ride – only that the train ride could be destined for a train wreck. It’s one of those albums that you listen to as background music while attempting to do something productive, but unlike the productive mind, I worry that PURE BLISS NO WORRIES doesn’t add anything new to the table. Compared to their debut album titled “fuck”, Jinro Yo and Lianna Gutierrez’s vocals seem much campier and arguably more lucid in their sophomore record. The drums by Nick Castillo carry each track with fluidity and match well with the strum of Jaed Noleal’s guitar. If only the rest of the album used the sonic experience that was applied on the third track, ix3Chocolaté, we could have hopped on a bedroom rock road trip that either went down the “core memory” lane or the “headbang like no one is watching” route. Nevertheless, each instrument and modulation used in this record are easily malleable to make longer tracks like Patiently Waiting a memorable listening experience. I hope to hear something more similar in their future work so their sound appears to smooth out the grainy noise. The aesthetic choices of Bling’s attempt at a blissful theme such as the Angel Numbers present in the track length (Say Hi 2 Forever is 2:22, Nowhere… is 1:11, and RiskOne is 3:33) solidly create a mist of bliss. My question is, will that mist diffuse quickly? Support the art & the artist:
REVIEWS
ALBUM REVIEW: Brickcity – We The Forgettables
One thing I learned about Brickcity as of late: they still pack a punch, both literally and figuratively. As a 5-piece resting on their laurels as a cult band for the heavy music genre since the late aughts, they’re still going at it decades after being seen as the seminal post-hardcore band doing spoken word pieces amidst a chaotic mixture of acrobatic riffages and odd time signatures. Resulting in the creation of their latest album titled “We The Forgetabbles”, released under the Desperate Infant Records label not too long ago. If bands like Arcadia, Lindenwood, and TNG can surpass time and still ultimately become cool and palatable bands in the year 2024, then what more for a band like Brickcity which has honed their style since the dawn of blogosphere pop punk and forum-driven post-hardcore. Centered around the theme of mortality, time treated as a social construct, and intentional memory loss, there’s a lot to unpack with the complexities of each page being turned as the album progresses. Jacques Concepcion – the lead of this ever-evolving unit – doubles down on the preachy approach. Spattering every syllable from non-sequiturs to daring takes about human nature. There’s a certain charm to Concepcion’s delivery compared to most whiny, almost cracking vocal stylings of the post-hardcore scene’s vocalists that he was able to possess. Maybe it’s a god given gift or a curse, depending on who’s playing the instruments and holding it down. The album made sure that it balances the technical wonder and Concepcion’s in-your-face vocals. “We The Forgettables” has spread out consistently without compromise nor hesitation. Despite all the technicalities and chords sprinkled on the album, one dangling curiosity the casual listener would ask: Is there any more gas left in Brickcity? In “We The Forgettables”, Concepcion answers this question more often than not throughout the entire album. Is their rust showing? Will there ever be another Brickcity release for another half decade? Concepcion and the rest of the band beg to disagree that they are “forgettable” but rather an acceptance that a scene is changing. The young vanguard is approaching. Certain practices and philosophies have sharpened and Brickcity has never defanged their approach ever since, introducing this almost hostile style to the underground up until the mainstream stages. Tracks like “Bermuda Noise”, “Pretenders” and “Maginhawa St” have exemplified different methods and styles of post-hardcore, leaving the listener with a varied selection of tracks that’s almost signature to the genre itself. But the outlier is Concepcion’s unorthodox, professor-like demeanor, teaching you that forgetting is a form of coping and that the concept of “time” could actually teach something valuable. But seeing its themes blossom on the forefront, there seems to be less profound hooks and significant rhythm sections compared to their previous release “The Bones We Used To Share”, treating some songs as almost filler-like by theory. Regardless of its shorter length and lesser catchy chants and riffs, Brickcity still has what it takes to break out from their own art form in practice. “We The Forgettables” is a statement not just for the scene but a love letter for the fans who have stayed with them. The album is a footnote, a reminder, that they’re about to move on to the next chapter. Support the art & the artist:
EP REVIEW: SHUICHI – YEAR OF THE RABBIT
Written by Jax Figarola Following shuichi’s well-received 2020 debut EP, “somniloquy,” he returns with “YEAR OF THE RABBIT,” a collection that invites listeners into a world of introspection and dream-like grief and longing. He presents a haunting blend of dream pop, bedroom R&B, and ambient electronic elements in music that creates a strong feeling of a bittersweet ache in your chest as you lie awake from grieving the loss of a person still living, distant and far away. The EP opens with “COUNTRY,” a track that sets the melancholic tone. You are greeted with arpeggiated chords that resemble faded photographs, each note a fragment of a lost love. The lyrics tug at a familiar ache – the longing for someone who feels like a distant dream, and shuichi captures it with a poignant honesty. The overall vibe invites quiet contemplation, allowing listeners to immerse and drift away in shuichi’s world of emotions. “SLIDE” throws its listeners into a disoriented spiral. The slow tempo and layered vocals evokes a deeper sadness – the desolate wistfulness that could be heard from the vulnerability in his vocal delivery. Yet, the solace of finding his lover only in dreams underscores the ephemeral nature of dreaming. Moreover, while almost unnoticeable, the tiny details of static sounds are a constant reminder that the images in dreams can be purely fantastical. And then, the despairing guitar line in the long outro builds towards a resolution that never arrives, as the track is abruptly cut off, transitioning into the next song. This abrupt ending could mirror the sudden shifts and unresolved stories that occur within dreams, because unfortunately, we all have to wake up eventually and face what we have lost. Next, “TILL THE MORNING” reinforces the record’s theme of anguished dreaming. The light synths and distant layered vocals are reminiscent of a half-forgotten nightmare. shuichi addresses his lover as if there were a real confrontation, but everything feels like a hazy memory due to the ambient and lingering layered and sampled sounds of audio recordings. The distant voice recordings are a desperate attempt to hold onto a fading, or faded, connection as if sanity is lost. The last tracks mark a shift towards a more meditative and romantic atmosphere. In “KEN’S TRACK,” unintelligible, dialogue snippets from a chillingly cold female voice, presumably his lover, against a lone piano melody evoke deeper sentimentality. This melancholic mood is continued with the seamless transition into the final song, “ILY,” which blends the dream pop, sound collage, and ambient elements that capture the feeling of bittersweet longing that define the EP. The lyrics express love for the other but also sound like a desperate plea to be loved back or be loved back again… It is a fitting conclusion that reflects the difficulty of letting go. “YEAR OF THE RABBIT” might feel slow and melancholic to some, but the thematic unity and sonically cohesive soundscape elevate the record into a work of artistic merit, where vulnerabilities are explored in a linear narrative. The rabbit signifies vulnerability, and the record is for those seeking a deeply personal and introspective experience, an invitation to confront vulnerabilities and find solace in the catharsis of emotions. It is the year to be vulnerable, as shuichi’s music isn’t just a listening experience; it’s a journey through a whispered conversation with the ghosts of love and loss that linger in the dreamscape of memory. Support the art & the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: Umo – Cream Flower
Written by Aly Maaño “Gutom na naman ako, alas dos ng umaga. O grabe na to…” I don’t know who I relate to more: the cat or the owners. After releasing their debut album last year, Cream Flower is back with a new single titled “Umo.” The dreamy track shares the POV of the duo’s orange rescue cat, Umo, who apparently doesn’t let them sleep unless they give him food. Although it started as a joke, the duo is successful in luring the dream pop/shoegaze/cat-loving audience with this new anthem. Surprisingly, the lyrics are sung in Tagalog; a shift from their usual choice, which adds a sentimental charm to the track, making it even more relatable. When listening to “Umo,” Celina’s wistful, reverb-drenched vocals echo similar to how a lullaby is effective in your 2 a.m. sleep routine. Instead, the room swirls into a hazy, distorted dreamscape while you let your ears soak in Jam’s fuzzy, textured riffs overlapping with emotive chord progressions that invoke a somber mood. The song builds up to a grimy, distort-heavy guitar solo carefully subsumed with rippling modulations and delay. When it ends, the echoing juxtaposition of tones lingers for a moment, enveloping you like a cat’s warm, furry embrace. “Umo” is a hypnagogic hallucination. Surely enough, Cream Flower is another testament to Bicol’s electric and diverse music scene. From Sgt. Pepper’s Club in Legazpi to Quezon City’s favorite underground gig venue, Mow’s, this indie-pop duo is bringing noisy, colorful, crooning, and hypnotic textures of sounds to the stage from the Luzon’s North and South. Support the art & the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: GRE! – Sa’kin
Written by J.K. Caray QC-based producer/rapper GRE!’s latest single is unlike anything you’ve ever heard from him. Released mere days after his other single “äll.gre!,” ‘Sa’kin’ shows a completely different side to GRE!’s capabilities, all without the cost of stripping his signature style. This track marks another turning point in his ever-changing discography. In a natural evolution from his usual sonic aesthetics, “Sa’kin” displays the masterful marriage of two genres: Pluggnb and Hyperpop. Bound within the flawlessly tight production, GRE! displays his musical prowess in a way that furthers both. Starting off with dreamy and atmospheric synths, the performance in this track impresses with its vocals, reminiscent of hyperpop artists like glaive and ericdoa, encased within the confines of ice cold autotune. The infectious trap beats, piercing chiptune melodies and heart-thumping string sections create a behemoth of a song that sounds larger than life at times; a refreshing yet much-needed style to alleviate the plugg scene from his repetitive contemporaries. It’s obvious that GRE! knows exactly what he’s doing and he’s not afraid to switch it up. As his third single for the year, the track could very well be a part of a new album or a new era but if one thing is for sure, it’s that he’s going to go far. After “Sa’kin,” you’re left to wonder, just what else can he do? How far is he going to go? And most importantly, can you still keep up? Support the art & the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: japercc – Way too ahead
Written by Aly Maaño japercc is an up-and-coming hip-hop artist from Cebu who began releasing music on SoundCloud in 2023. Since then, he has been continuously serving the cloud rap scene with head-bopping tracks that blend synth-derived melodies and chiptune elements woven into rage trap beats. For your serial Playboi Carti enjoyer, one of his latest releases, “Way Too Ahead” produced by anthonyramx, passes as an instant banger. japercc successfully executes the low, slurred vocals akin to the mumble rap genre. The catchy, repetitive hooks and bass-heavy, gummy beats easily bring listeners to a codeine-induced frenzy. The high-pitched vocal swishes at the bridge add a playful flare before the second verse. While it is a sonic treat, “Way Too Ahead” doesn’t stray away lyrically from the snazzy, braggadocio rap template. But overall, the outward swag and quality of the whole production compensate for its lack of lyrical variety and substance. japercc tastefully gathered and fused the ingredients to whip up an effortless bop for fellow flared jeans enthusiasts. Although it might not fit everyone’s palate, “Way Too Ahead” makes sure to leave an impression; it adequately encapsulates what rage rap is all about. With japercc giving us a taste of home-cooked trap music, it’s exciting to know what he can bring more to the table. We’re just going to have to let him cook. Support the art & the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: Memory Drawers – Memory Drawers
Written by Faye Allego Picture this: It’s 2014, your entire personality is based on photos of succulents with a VSCO app filter that is reblogged on your Tumblr page, a poster of Unknown Pleasures hanging by a thread (in this case, tape that has lost its purpose of sticking on the wall above your bed), and your element of mystique is buried with every emotion that bedroom music playlist makes you feel. Although the pleasure of being an angsty, indie-music-centered-teenager back then is a well-known phenomenon, Memory Drawers seems to bring back that unique feeling of individuality and whimsicality in their long-awaited debut album. It goes without saying that this album perfectly fits in the dreamscape milieu of Indie Pop. The lyrics, composed by Kevin Ingco and Paula Castillo, read like a prologue to a retrospective novel about one’s memories of youth that were never to be just written in a diary tucked away in a drawer. Found in the final couplet of Lovingly, Andrea Alegre sings: “Didn’t think, didn’t think I’d hear a word/ Said ‘There’s nothing left for me, in this world, in this world.” This alone uses repetition in a way that isn’t – for lack of a better word – repetitive to hear. This track along with others such as Luuv and Esc Esc Esc feels like changing the color of my laptop’s cursor to black and opening a blank document to write whatever I want at the expense of depression and for the sake of expression. However, I find myself asking if every track creates cohesion to the album and builds an overall narrative, or if it is just a polished compilation of their past, tempting the listener for upcoming endeavors that may sound even better in that said dreamscape milieu. Nearly a decade has passed by since Hart found its way as the first track of Memory Drawers. The original version first appeared on SoundCloud and was later revamped to fit the precision found in Ingco’s mixing, and the mastering by Diego Mapa. The same can be said for the following track, Maybe, originally released in 2016. I hesitated at the thought of these songs resurrecting on the debut album instead of leaving them as hidden gems to be found on their own. The last track, …For Any Of This, was also previously released as a single but now acts as a beautiful epilogue through its upbeat nature that makes you feel like you’re knee-deep into the night; as if Ingco and Castillo along with Alegre’s voice planted a Whomping Willow that would later produce seeds for a mystifying glowing Willow throughout all these years (not to mention the album art looks like a tree’s growth rings). This is the “upcoming endeavor” I mentioned earlier. Indeed, I yearn to hear more.
TRACK REVIEW: Zeke Abella – Poems
Written by Elijah P. The Philippines has a heavily documented history when it comes to comedic viral stars turned musicians, the pipeline dates back to Yoyoy Villame in the 80s in his most sadistic form of humor of turning classic soft rock hits into parodies. Throughout the 90s to the aughts, you’ve got comedians taking a serious turn of their slapstick into the top of the pops with Michael V’s persistent chart topping singles that’s taken notes of earlier Weird Al Yankovic and Bayani Agbayani’s eternal childhood pop hit “Ocho Ocho”. But as the decades pass, the 2010s was a turning point for some who’ve grown up using the internet post-battle rap, late night TV and internet hugot culture. Take Vice Ganda as a worthy example of these comedians taking it to the bigger musical stage despite the influential catchphrases and next level sarcastic humor they’re known for. Entering the 2020s, the shelflife of a comedian-musician will last a longer internet lifespan of a shining star across the cosmos, especially for Cebuano native Zeke Abella’s shot to stardom in his latest single “Poems”. If you’re not convinced enough, Abella has reported about the VisMin hip hop scene months before being a Tiktok sensation on YouTube Channels. But the effect of being a casual comedian has further skyrocketed his exposure, putting his musical talent and his scene cohorts to the limelight. Absorbing the sensibilities and vocal runs of a SZA listener, Abella’s latest singles “Poems” deviates from his earlier material and the entire cliches of machismo in male-fronted r&b. Instead, Abella puts his vulnerability front and center, tapping into the struggling, emotional yearning on top of tasteful vocal harmonies and piano rolls, with no artificial additives and comedy involved. Zeke Abella may have given everyone a good laugh or two but his music has imminently put the VisMin scene to the spotlight for the coming years.
EP REVIEW: Salem and the Stellar Cats – “Salem!”
Written by Jayne Caray Between shouting nyan’s and near-death experiences, what else can you possibly expect from a cat band? Well, after more than a year of anticipating drops; first with the release of “Reflections after Salem”, followed by “Ate Memy’s Halal Patir” and “Smores”, Pasig’s Salem and the Stellar Cats are finally out of the bag to show you just what they’re capable of with the release of their debut ep, “Salem!”. At its heart, “Salem!” centers on the retelling of songwriter and vocalist Yones’ vibrant life experiences sung in an uncomplicated yet authentic way that would make anti-folk artists of the 2000s proud. Starting off with a snappy droning guitar in “Ate Memy’s Halal Patir”, the band immediately flaunts their kittenish, tongue-in-cheek qualities. Guitarists Vlad and Kiyan’s easily memorable punk riffs serve to retain the high energy of the next song, “C5”. Here, the tight rumblings of Emman’s drums mimic the busy streets of the famed road as the lyrics, quite literally, meows about an unpleasant experience Yones has encountered in which she fears for her life. The EP takes a swift left turn in the second half as it slows down yet arguably features the better and more sentimental tracks of the entire release. “Reflections After Salem” brings a sober introspection on life without Salem. The charmingly quirky instrumentals build up to a Wes Anderson-esque mood while the vocals recall Salem’s precious moments in a monologue buried deep within the production. It’s raw and genuine without brooding too much, mature in its own grieving way. Lastly, “Smores” wraps up the ep with a somber tone. Backed with gorgeous acoustic guitars and single melody synths, its sonically one-note nature only adds to the gut-wrenching and vulnerable musings of an owner missing their feline companion. The track is sentimental and hopeful, strangely evoking the feeling of a peaceful sleep after crying your eyes out. Equally humorous and melancholic, SATSC may have started as the “neophyte gimmick band”, but their wholehearted passion and sheer dedication to the craft have certainly propelled them forward to the next stage. DIY-ing music from scraps of fur, bedroom pop tunes, and personal anecdotes, “Salem!” marks a promising start for a group of cat lovers who breathe just to create. Support the art & the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: sister christine – driver’s license
Written by Jax Figarola “driver’s license” by sister christine immerses their audience in a sonic landscape that draws inspiration from iconic shoegaze bands like quannnic, Whirr, flyingfish, and my bloody valentine. However, the song combines the elements of grunge and shoegaze, capturing the essence of dark liminal spaces through its use of distant ethereal vocals, buried drums, distorted and heavy guitar riffs, and fuzzy textures that scratch the brain. The track opens with solitary guitar riffs that echo only through the left stereo, which set the stage for a long, dragging intro that lasts for half a minute before the opening verse comes. The murky and noisy atmosphere, achieved through the use of pedal-infused guitars and the deliberate use of distorted overlapping vocals, paradoxically instills a sense of calmness. The lyrics, nearly drowned by the loudness of the instruments, contribute to a sense of blasé sentiment towards the whole composition. However, and a big however, the emotive and distorted voice during the chorus is easily discernible, evoking emotions of hopelessness and entrapment in a dysfunctional relationship–a cycle of intoxicating pain. In short, while the established soundsphere of the instruments crafts a sense of deliriium, it is the vocals that stand out as the track’s most compelling element. Turning attention to the song’s discovery, it’s noteworthy that TikTok played a huge role. The cylical nature of attention in the age dominated by doomscrolling and an algorithm that often steers depressed people towards depressive content, the track resonates with TikTok users seeking relatable melancholic content. In a curated display of seemingly “liminal space” images, sister christine strategically utilizes the platform to promote their song by posting repetitive TikToks in a standardized format, featuring text like “pov: you found an underrated artist to obsess over” set against images, in a slideshow, of dark, eerie liminal spaces that invoke both familiarity and discomfort. Therefore, the intention of the artist feels like it plays a pivotal role in their success. If their intention is to seek attention, as the song suggests, then repetitive posts of the same script hoping to blow up is an impressive metaphor, similarly how Mallbangs’ “Gutter” was popularized through edits of the game Silent Hill or how Aphex Twin’s “Pulsewidth” had a resurgence in popularity due to slideshows of Y2K images. However, attributing sister christine’s success solely to TikTok strategies would be unfair. The artist adeptly leverages TikTok culture to create an easily streamable audio, tapping into the platform’s teen shoegaze and indie fans. Despite lacking a distinctly Filipino touch, the intense and obscure sound of “driver’s license” remains an impressive addition to the shoegaze genre. This doesn’t imply a requirement for the song to be in a Philippine language; rather, it just seems somewhat foreign, resembling international shoegaze acts like sister christine’s inspirations. Wrapping up with an air of mystery, the confusing title (at least, for me) of “driver’s license” remains an elusive riddle. The title makes no sense, inviting listeners to ponder its meaning even after the music has concluded. Support the art & the artist: