In recent years, we’ve noticed screamo music making a comeback amongst younger generations. Now, it’s referred to as ‘skramz’, which claims to be a contemporary approach to the classic genre. Do a basic search on ‘skramz’ and you’ll probably stumble upon bands like Catalyst…, Knumears, and Vs Self. But the catch is, most of them are from the U.S., whether the rural midwest or some suburbia out of the west coast. This makes their music often reflect Western imagery — something that is hard to relate to and resonate with if you didn’t grow up in America. Especially since most of their songs circulate within the themes of one’s teenage years. Although, thankfully, we have bands like Fragile now, to make skramz more applicable to our locality. There’s no denying that there’s some sense of contentment in finally having a skramz band, that is from the Philippines, and as a matter of fact, from Cavite. Skramz no longer feels like such a distant genre, hanging from the fringes of Western culture. It is now also something that we, as Filipinos, can define for ourselves, in our own version of it, independent from its Western counterpart. The track deep enough is angsty, melancholic, and with guttural vocals. It cuts through the senses like a sharp knife, bellowing with downtrodden lyrics. It provides that satisfying levity that we often feel, from listening to skramz, as if transcending towards heaven, and maybe even hell. The instrumentals hold a feel for nostalgia and sentimentality, which paired with harsh vocals, end up with great contrast and texture. However, the overall ‘recipe’ of the song still reflects a bit of what we hear in bands like Algae Bloom, Versera, and seahorsechoke. While there’s still some room for improvement, one could place priority on originality. Perhaps exploring themes and subjects within their ideas that are not so generic upon their temperament of what’s ‘angsty.’ Maybe something more rooted to the Filipino experience of the coming-of-age. Less on the dread, and more on the context. Asking questions like what is our (Filipinos) account on what torments us? And how can we convey such a niche experience through musicality? Although to add onto that, they’re still a relatively new band, and it always takes time to develop one’s unique sound. With this, comes an opportunity for them to establish a skramz sound that is purely authentic and genuine to the local scene. Despite it being quite common for skramz bands to fall into the trap of repeating a pattern of redundancy out of their own peers’ music, Fragile seems to be a capable band in breaking that frequent occurrence. Hopefully when they do, it won’t be a blueprint to what Western bands have already come up with. For one, they already produce more spirited, vigorous instrumentals that, in all honesty, is difficult to find in this day and age’s gloom-for-doom type of skramz. Despite clearly withholding aesthetics that are influenced by industrialism and perhaps even slightly nihilist, the overall sound of the band does not sound ‘dead’ and in fact livelier than ever. But maybe that’s the hope we Filipinos have, speaking for itself – always looking for the light at the end of the tunnel. Basically, free of mimicry and replication, without the inclination to imitate earlier skramz bands. Hence, there’s a lot of pressure for a band like Fragile, who is bringing a fresh genre into the community. Yes, screamo has been in the country for years, but skramz is an entirely new variety of it, and its presence is still pristine to the country. Certainly a big responsibility, one can place their bets that as they discover more of their sound, they’ll make a distinct name for Filipino skramz. Support the art & the artist:
REVIEWS
ALBUM REVIEW: emma bot – Radio Emma
Written by Louis Pelingen There is a sudden rush of emotions that’ll overwhelm everyone once they hit a certain age, wherein processing the state of their life thus far peels back all the ups and downs they’ve experienced as they continue to live and do the usual stuff in their routine to survive. It brings out the frustrations that may wallow in the present, but over time, it’ll die down as there is more to look forward to in the future. It might take time to push out those frustrations, but it is necessary to wade through them to learn and grow. For Sab Morado aka Emma Bot, they process that emotion within the set of pop punk and indie rock palette in their debut album, Radio Emma. Composed and produced by Emma Bot themself, with additional help by the members of Warpten amongst others, there’s a striking consistency and emotional punch within a lot of these songs, further grasped by the excellently sequenced album structure that allows both mellow and frenetic melodies to follow through without any flubs in momentum. Carrying through a familiar sonic streak that might not shift the sound of pop punk, but when these melodies are just catchy and filled with invigorating grooves, snappy performances, and fantastic production work, it leads to a lot of these songs just stick in the brain. Whether that be the rumbling bass and guitar passages on “Parallax (in Another Age)”, the stomping groove of “Mothing Feels Good”, the lively melodic throughlines of “P”, the shift from the wandering groove to the synth accents and flourishing guitars of “Coming of Age”, the soft build-ups that effectively lead to the explosive guitars of “On the Pavement” and the emotive final hook of “Easy”, the riotous melodic panic of “Japan”, and the wistful tone that’s amplified further by the additional vocals of Nica Feliciano and Howard Luistro on “Some Days (are Bad Days)”. It’s not just the melodies that manage to stick, as Emma Bot does write a compelling reflection within the themes of the record. Essentially, Emma Bot is trying to move away from whatever ache they feel, yet it doesn’t exactly come with an easy hurdle, especially as their mind is still filled with memories from the past that keep floating by. It’s an introspection that tangles itself down the line, getting a bit more existential through mentions of feeling numb, being a bit too wasted and sleep-deprived, and getting worked up with growing older that only creates the impression of getting close to giving in to cynicism as heartache and existential crisis only pulls them down further into the abyss. Yet amidst all that, Emma Bot acknowledges that there is still worth looking forward to beyond all of that cynical musings, where being able to see themselves alive is at least a positive moment to think about. The lingering pain might still be carried and there’s an unsureness about what else is there to dream about, but the important part is to keep grasping onto hope. The aspect in life that ensures that everything will be okay in the end. In short, Emma Radio is the sort of debut album that manages to hit the landing and showcases just how many roads Emma Bot could sonically proceed in the future, especially as there isn’t much risk taken within the production and compositional aspect of the album. Still, Emma Bot manages to strike the sweet spot on their first go, carving impressive melodies that have only gotten better with great pacing, sharp production, and nuanced writing that might wallow in the stormy heartache but is aware enough to grasp toward hope. It’s a radio channel full of palpable tunes that are worth the listen. Support the art and the artist:
EP Review: LU – Not Fragile, Just Tired
Written by Aly Maaño As 2024 came to a close, some of us couldn’t help but be in a somber mood. Aside from the festivities and family reunions, we also needed to prepare for a new transition which can often put us in a state of reflection, regret, and second-guessing. In her debut EP, Not Fragile Just Tired, 22-year-old LU sends us into a spiral of emotions on the precipice of a new year. Growing up in Aurora province, LU is no stranger to seeing gigantic sea waves off Baler’s coast, but when the tides of melancholy hit, surfing through the turbulence may not be an option. Sometimes, the waves roll in on you, each as strong and bold as the last. The EP’s opening track, BLAME IT ON THE BEER, sets a downcast tone, with its introspective lyrics, distorted riffs, and powerful guitar breakdowns fusing into a melodic, post-rock treat which is highlighted by the cacophony of aggressive guitars and LU’s haunting vocals towards the bridge. Lyrically, the same level of anguish is felt in LIVE FOR WHAT but it possesses more pop-rock sensibilities due to its consistent mellow and jangly sound, serving as a momentary crash in preparation for the next track. The great wave of desolation peaks at LINES, a song featuring Yusilo. In this track, LU finds herself in a tornadic waterspout of her own emotions, clashing with Yusilo’s heavier guitar textures and progressive rhythms. At this breaking point, LU further showcases her expressive vocal prowess with Calvin Borja, Yusilo’s frontman, impressing us with his vocal dynamic and range. As if all hope is lost, the track abruptly ends after the outro, signaling the end of the storm. While the first three tracks were all guitar-heavy, the latter half of the EP features acoustic tracks like CONTROL and KINDER. The soft plucking of guitars along with LU’s hushed voice evokes the quiet, calm, and desolate aftermath of the first act. The mood picks up again at ASTERISK, ushering upbeat drum patterns and grungy guitars. But this hopeful undertone doesn’t last for long. As if to harness the sea’s agony, the last track transitions mid-song to a subdued atmosphere with the lyrics building up to LU’s pleading screams, “I wanna give her the world,” which continues like a prayer to whoever may listen. LU’s first EP is brimming with potential. Their evocative vocals and contemplative lyricism are far from being one-dimensional and the fresh elements in her sound don’t fall off the bar either. LU sings about the transient nature of emotions much like the quavering sea, with its waves present and passing. Not Fragile Just Tired represents the rising and ebbing tides and each track is a wave-sound bearing a satisfying symphony. Support the art & the artist:
TRACK Review: Mellow Fellow – Heaven
Written by Noelle Alarcon In this world, heaven is considered as the be-all, end-all of life’s course. Anything else euphoria-inducing that comes close is the nearest you’ll get to arriving at the cosmological paradise. For indie pop act Mellow Fellow, who emerged from Muntinlupa and is currently located in Canada, the agency to choose yourself is his equivalent of the bliss achieved beyond the stars. True to his name, “Heaven” opens with a mellow assortment of instruments smoothly cascading into his smooth vocals. The keyboard and the guitars twinkle along the periphery. They form the core of his trademark sound, reminiscent of the motifs that defined bedroom pop during the 2010s. The rhythm section doesn’t take a back seat, either. The thick strings of the bass dance to the variations of open-handed drumming, making the symphony full and whole. It creates an environment conducive enough to let his truth bloom across rich textures, intensified by titillating synths and alternating beats. “Heaven” is light and airy, with fierce proclamations adding a little kick to the artist’s signature cool. It propels you into the clouds through the unapologetic honesty its confessions spell out. It’s a reflection of the arduous journey to corporeal nirvana, aurally fleshed out in the highs and lows between the verses and choruses. This is Mellow Fellow’s invitation for you to ascend with him into liberation, through dropping the burdens of life that no longer serve you.
The Flying Lugaw presents: THE 𝗕𝗘𝗦𝗧 𝗙𝗜𝗟𝗜𝗣𝗜𝗡𝗢 𝗥𝗘𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗘𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰
2024 was the year where Filipino musicians and artists valued the full-length release. There are bands that shot for the moon right away by releasing an album with 12 songs while others released a mixtape like it was 2013 all over again. Streaming platforms like Bandcamp and Soundcloud are important in searching for those who wish to push the envelope in releasing new music. There are no limitations when it comes to releasing an album; you can create a “season” of your own while another up-and-coming local act is cooking something up behind the scenes. Music deserves to be heard in the form of an album (or at the very least releases that have more than 3-4 songs) The Flying Lugaw crew would like to make a wish that in the year 2025, or any year for that matter, more albums, EPs, Mixtapes or any other release with a collection of songs would be pushed more for artists, by artists. 30. Pat’s Soundhouse – Khaen Solo Vol. 1 (anika) Heavy on instrumentation, this one’s for long car rides. Maybe when you’re stuck in traffic or driving through the freeway. Poignant, with a touch of elegance, the sound of the khaen is brimming with liveliness as if embodying the spirit of a human within its chords. Encapsulating the aura of what it feels like to stargaze, Khaen Solo is rich with vastness in tone. LINK: https://open.spotify.com/album/2webH6kaLadcVoHd6uBEET?si=HJaFOd1-S_SNL6x2qq-D1w 29. To love everything ever again – Nineveh (aly) Emotional, vulnerable, brooding yet hopeful. In his first EP, “To Love Everything Ever Again,” Janpol Estrella, who goes by the moniker Nineveh, bares his soul by intricately weaving gut-wrenching lyricism with glitchy synthesizers, noisy distortions, playful drum beats, and chamber pop elements to uniquely capture an emotion and to tell a story. Referencing biblical characters and verses throughout the EP, Nineveh questions his relationship with his faith as he boldly shares his internal struggles, even if his voice shakes. LINK: https://open.spotify.com/album/1ZLfneo1HaEkbv4g7a57Gn?si=cdb26387ac754144 28. Soldados kan Tios – Walang Titulo (nikolai) More than a post-metal sludge release, ‘Walang Titulo’ is a protest. With heavy contributions from renowned artist and activist Alex Pinpin, this newly formed hardcore band decries in the album the plight of farmers whose lands are taken by the elite class. LINK: https://open.spotify.com/album/046CsHH1cBlsg411TmmRgF?si=668f301ae3bc4dbe 27. Tydings-Mcduffie – s/t (louis) Ever imagine a period piece coming back as a message to the present times? Tydings-Mcduffie takes you on the highs and lows of the Philippine Commonwealth Era. Amidst the brief ride, the tides of their self-titled record zoom into its protagonists and all they have to dream, experience, and sacrifice – paired with smooth jazz compositions that give you a tune to remember. Tydings-Mcduffie provides a penchant for what the past believed in: an optimism that persists beyond melancholia. LINK: https://open.spotify.com/album/35vNlk6c2W6c3SXPS8ka1W?si=11d57ae092e04085 26. Haley Heynderickx – Seed of a Seed (anika) Folkish and devoted to the nature of Oregon, Seed of a Seed projects the gentleness of trees, flowers, and insects when brought into a tender symphony. Like ripples on a river, doused with rainwater, Seed of a Seed introduces an organic approach to composition. Bringing in Heynderickx’s ability to produce poetic lyricism, she enkindles the profuse vibrance that one can find in mundanity. Surrounded by lush imagery, the musicality speaks for itself when it wants to convey that sense of fullness. LINK: https://open.spotify.com/album/5WjjIOn40MG9kLfaeHBS5a?si=03125d230e504161 25. PRY – Resignation Letter (jax) Pry is aggressive and unapologetic in their female rage, in their sophomore album RESIGNATION LETTER, which slices through indie rock, alternative, punk, and noise rock with emotional edge. The constant surveillance and judgment for their non-conformity to established concepts of femininity and identity are anathema to the band. Unlike their debut “The Party’s Over,” which leaned heavily on riot grrrl and cathartic screaming, their new sound now explores more lilting rhythms, slower tempos, and stickier textures. This evolution is a goodbye letter to their anguish like a lump on their throats, but still, fitting in their principle of being punk. LINK: https://prymusicph.bandcamp.com/album/resignation-letter 24. Switchbitch – Silang (jk) switchbitch’s bombastic debut release sets the stage aflame as they solidify themselves as Filipino Conscious Rap heroines. Women rapping about peasant and working-class advocacies sounds exactly as badass as it looks on paper, Silang is just another way of getting their points across. Heavily equipped with sardonically blunt quips and fast code-switching, the lyricism is wildly compelling at riling people up and igniting the simmering anger we already feel. It evokes inspiration and anger—one out of frustration and one out of hope, all in the sense of creating a better nation. From the current state of affairs in the Philippines, it seems that this isn’t the last we’ll hear from them. They said it best in their outro, “Ako at sila ang magtutuloy ng pagpunla sa pag-asa hanggang sa makamtan natin ang tagumpay.”; as long as there is injustice, there will always be a switchbitch spitting bars on the oppressor’s face. LINK: https://open.spotify.com/album/3TfSuIKsQfT6R1LFJ1f6FS?si=155c9dca615a4302 23. Brickcity – We the Forgettables (nikolai) Kinetic energy and deep angst envelope the room in Brickcity’s ‘We the Forgettables’. For 25 minutes, you are treated to pure skramz goodness with not a moment to rest besides ‘Pretend’. A must-listen if you’re into bands like TNG. LINK: https://open.spotify.com/album/6wBzB53uUrFW32BtxSpwnp?si=f263574b8ce94259 22. vice* – syzygy (louis) ‘syzygy’ is a notebook scribbled with every idea that vice* can execute with the hand of a careful adept. An EP that crosshatches glitch pop illustrations with emo-pop doodles notably aware of his influences, yet using that knowledge to establish his style within. What results is a melting pot of bassooning beats; fractious guitars; and bending vocal stirs that tie up into prismatic melodies. All chaotic pieces, linked into one mesmerizing frame. LINK: https://open.spotify.com/album/3wthcVGeUFteuz3gNZnPDC?si=0b713105c79f4788 21. sci fye – who knows? (jk) Something needs to be said about the beauty in mundanity. As an open hate/love letter to the buzzing existentialist cityscapes of Manila, who knows? captures its worldly essence to a tee—but not without unwittingly writing an ode to its intricacies. From the sweltering afternoon
The Flying Lugaw presents: THE 𝗕𝗘𝗦𝗧 𝗙𝗜𝗟𝗜𝗣𝗜𝗡𝗢 𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰
The year was met with an overwhelming amount of new artists releasing amazing tracks everyday. 24/7 we are experiencing another golden age of local music from Luzon, Visayas and Mindanao. We have surf rock riding the waves in the lo-fi scenes, electronic music merging with the alternative and grunge community, and hip-hop greatly influencing pop music for the better. It’s that time of the year to celebrate the greatness that is the Filipino Music scene, both from the mainstream and the alternative. These are the songs that have caught our attention and hopefully they get to catch yours. Hear everything from January to December 2024. 40. r0xxy – Fashion Killa (jk) Clocking in at about a minute and a half, “FASHiONKiLLA” waits no time in grabbing your attention and stringing you along for a little ride. Alongside ethereal and lush beats, the character r0xxy portrays here is swag, in all sense of the word—striking as the type of guy walking inside a grocery store in a full-on silver chrome hearts drip. He knows he is cool, he makes sure you understand that. And then, in between the busy dairy and meat produce section, he’s gone just as quickly as he arrived, leaving you interested and asking for more. Link: https://soundcloud.com/r0xxstvr/fashionkilla-prod-fuctjin 39. Polkadots – unstuck (aly) Straight from the Bay Area, Polkadot is back with another tweemo soundtrack befitting the precipice of a new year. Four years after releasing their debut album “Feeling Okay,” they teased their sophomore album “…to be crushed” with a track called “Unstuck” following their lead single “Pulling Threads”. Unlike the songs in their first album, “Unstuck” banks heavier on the angsty, emo sound with heavier guitar riffs, fuzzy distortions, and profoundly reflective lyricism from Daney Espiritu. The track is vulnerable and honest to boot, with poignant melodies and nuanced vocals that aren’t meant to get easily “Unstuck” in your head. Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hVSipia8gUI 38. Arkyalina – readmymind (elijah) “readmymind” is a diary entry written in digital ink. You get flourishes of guitar, Tavin Villanueva’s frustrations translated in the ether, and earnestness addressed via audio call. The track is 2-step crossed over with shoegaze influences, wandering and glitching into the world of Arkyalina’s mind palace. We just so happen to live with it. Link: https://open.spotify.com/album/5hNFl261HfMy1ZB7dvDus3?si=1a7e35bec89a4f0e 37. A piloto – in light (anika) Picture this: you’re a stem major, who’s truly an art student at heart, but the world keeps pitting against your favor. In light calls for poetry written on converse, the guidebook to surviving your early 20s when they tell you to cut your overgrown hair. If an ‘angel lost its wings’, A piloto reignites the ability to fly. Fuzzy with reverb and overdrive, “in light” beckons to the feeling of burning the midnight oil at Mow’s, all the while wishing you didn’t have to go home. Think stickers on a Stratocaster, timeworn. Link: https://soundcloud.com/user-877377412/in-light 36. Uncertain specimen – I knew you then I knew you now (anika) Primarily a soundcloud-based artist, “I knew you then I knew you now” is a synthwave project at best. Uncertain specimen, clearly functions within a tiny keyboard, and that’s where a lot of its DIY aura comes from. Lots of bells ring in this track, as if a ringtone you would have picked up from an old Nokia. Link: https://soundcloud.com/uncertain-specimen/i-knew-you-then-i-know-you-now 35. Lomboys – Spartan (elijah) Rhythmic chants are heard across the streets of Palangoy, Binangonan, Rizal Province. “AHU! AHU!” were made clear through small alleyways and eskinitas, but we’re not talking about actual Spartans charging towards an army. These are real life gangs arriving on the street like it’s a normal Sunday afternoon. “Spartan” by Lomboys could either be the equivalent of The Imperial March in boom bap form or the natural progression of Rizal’s storied rap history re-emerging into the scene. Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GUnszWGjRlM 34. YiYi – Jasper Jeans (jk) Among the standout trends of the year, it seems that a cultural shift has gone towards making “cringe” and “heartfelt” art once again. Despite being overly simplistic and soppy, “Jasper Jeans” allows us to view it as an edge. Showcasing how a little goes a long way, the track wears its emotions on its sleeves for all of us to see and it’s nothing short of endearing. For YiYi, sentimentality is a bullet that pierces through all. Link: https://open.spotify.com/track/2EfCPxDimVgTqzATke3dSp?si=752bcf0652c945bd 33. Felip – envy (elijah) Felip belts out a remark that could win a breathing contest, but this isn’t just a casual braggadocio. He’s an equestrian reaching a higher bar for the sole purpose of being the dark horse of his own league. SB19’s Felip balances elegance, opium-pilled juvenile astonishment and a brash presence that’s far away from his boy group image in “envy”. Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zq2l7PJJFMI 32. Shanni – Kdrama (anika) In a world of ‘fandoms’ and whatnot, it’s easy to daydream your idealized version of a story. “Kdrama” is a track that extends those feelings toward longing, yearning, and wishing for a happy ending where everything falls into place. Endearing and melodious, Kdrama sets the tone for seeking the ethereal within reality. That experience of binging on a Kdrama with someone, one episode to the next, as the rest of the world fades into a standstill. Link: https://open.spotify.com/track/7xOdR15gtoAH1B4KYkcDqR?si=08533594885049c4 31. Cherry Society – Recluse (jk) If there was one song that Kat Stratford from 27 Things I Hate About You played after her iconic poem scene, it would definitely be Cherry Society’s “Recluse”. This is the main appeal of the track; the deliciously lively instrumentals and feminine angst dialed up to 11 create the perfect backdrop to having your weekly “nobody likes me” moment. Being the band that brands their music “adjacent to a 2000s teen movie soundtrack”, the quartet knows exactly what kind of music they want and is not afraid to make it. Link: https://open.spotify.com/track/2OC4bmeBYQ7Nn6GOEyMlOB?si=8b10e7521dae473f 30. dizzy.FM – mary_jane (+ku1buk0l +mr.kupido77 +peew33 +ocsiber! (prod. sandin x wintfye! x warheart) (louis) This song can only come from a vape-doused romanticism. It is the sonic equivalent of typing too much
ALBUM REVIEW: Ely Buendia – Method Adaptor
Written by Faye Allego Without a shadow of a doubt, Ely Buendia has an iconic and notably one of the most recognizable voices in OPM. His wordplay, chord progressions, and a whirlpool of psychedelia you feel after reaching the coda is top-notch during the Batang 90’s era of OPM. But now I ask myself: Is there a dark cloud of doubt in his newly released record, Method Adaptor, in the rearview? When Buendia released “Bulaklak Sa Buwan”, his lyricism shone through, continuing to create parallels and paradigms conveying themes of delusions, misconstrued mindsets, and the irony of fantasy. That being said, this body of vulnerability as a whole could constitute as a throwaway Eraserheads mixtape from the ‘ole Cutterpillow days. The lead single itself is a wonderful homage to the batang 90’s sound. It surely brings exuberance to fans who have been there during Buendia’s early rise to fame and have witnessed his impact on the OPM genre in real-time, however, like (almost) every artist who goes solo after years of being in a successful and impactful band, their past reputation precedes every lyric their future solo albums has to say. In Method Adaptor’s lead singles, you hear what Buendia feels, but do you feel it too? It’s there to sing and dance along to, but not enough to swoon over Buendia’s typical magical ingredients that make his songs linger. In multiple interviews pertaining to the release of Method Adaptor, Buendia created this album out of reflection on fame and life- and the stresses that come with it. It’s an inside look into the mind of someone who spent a long time pondering what it means to have lived a life ruled by youth, art, and irrevocable passion. In tracks like Faithful, however, it seems like the thought was there, but emotional umph was stagnant. In fact, he even communicates this precariousness in the same track: “There’s so much that I wanna say/ I just don’t know if I can say it this way” The narrator of the song is tired and in limbo, yet, the tune he plays lives on, almost never-ending. As one may know, if it’s Buendia on vocals, it’s almost guaranteed that the listener will hear an upbeat hymn that may tell any story out of the ordinary. A great example of this out-of-body experience that you feel when listening to Buendia’s voice actually comes the song titled “Shallow Breathing” from his debut solo album, “Wanted Bedspacer”. With Method Adaptor, “Tamang Hinala” is a song that exemplifies Buendia’s lyrical and instrumental devices and approaches that fuel this album. You get a repetitive yet addictive chorus as well as verses that show off stimulating cadence such as “Ang tanim ay siya ring aanihin/Guguho ang kastilyong buhangin/Madulas ang balbas parang Hudas/Ganyan lang talaga ‘pag minalas”, Every instrument seeps perfectly into the chorus without sounding overpowering or underwhelming. The appeal of tracks like “Chance Passenger” or “Deadbeat Creeper” is colorless to the point where certain verses like “And you wear your spirit well /Satisfy the clientele /Make me want to set her down” as well as vocals that are bordering on the stringy spectrum that confuse the narrative of the song. It feels like I’m reading a notes app poem- there’s nothing wrong with a notes app poem, however, translating feelings of desire into melodies is critical to transform filler songs into album staples in an album like ‘Method Adaptor’. Alternatively, if Buendia continued or even interweaved his experimental sound and velvety vocals highly executed in his previous songs, namely “Monday Mundane”, “Hotchik”, and of course, “Ligaya”, I could have understood and truly felt the thematic undertones of reliving youth, regret, grief, and desire more deeply. Overall, Ely Buendia’s distinguished and seasoned love for songwriting is definitely evergreen and everpresent, his music legacy will always be a pillar of inspiration for generations to come, but his reflections seen in his second album, Method Adaptor, seems to translate into feelings of muffled confusions that almost glaze over what could have left a lasting memory of his caliber of a voice and mind. Support the art & the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: Haley Heynderickx – Seed of a Seed
Written by Louis Pelingen Looking back on Haley Heynderickx’s debut project is like observing a seedling grow into a lively tree, as there are a lot of elements within the record that keep on growing the more time passes by. Spanning across the pastoral writing wherein despite the generally loose themes – there is enough captivating poetry wading through, the rich performances that Haley Heynderickx offers with her striking vocals, as well as the well-produced and well-composed melodies that have enough enticingly warm progressions to allow them to stick a lot deeper. Since then, there has been a quiet period after I Need To Start A Garden, just before this year where she finally pulled together her sophomore record, Seed of a Seed. Within this long-awaited project, more awe-inspiring elements serve as an overall refinement of Haley Heynderickx’s debut output. The production is now much more organic in its mix where the expanded instrumentation and vocals nestle well to the point that it evokes a thrilling tone to these songs, the array of folk melodies have a lot of sticky charm from the instrumental refrains and the inviting chorus lines, and Haley Heynderickx’s presence as a vocalist soars further as she pulls more from her expanded vocal range that lands with ease – really letting these songs linger with charm from start to finish. The layers of strings, acoustics, and vocals render a harmonious touch on “Gemini” as they go on these lush melodic swings throughout the song, the ramping rhythmic shuffle of “Foxglove” that’s elevated further with Heynderickx’s rich vocal delivery, the emotive strings and the jangling acoustics on “Seed of a Seed” that never sounds so comforting on their warm tone, the glorious escapade of “Redwoods (Anxious God)” where the grand swells are encaptured by the melodic progressions that never lose their sweeping momentum, the arpeggiated guitar structure of “Jerry’s Song” that builds into this heavenly crescendo that the vocals land splendidly, and the aptly titled “Swoop” has these melodic structures from the acoustics and strings that swoops with a gleaming sway every time it goes to the chorus lines, ending the record with a gracefully strong finish. This is where Haley Heynderickx then also evolves as a writer, where there is at least a semblance of connecting themes spiraling within her mostly enthralling poetry. Still lingering within the pastoral touches that she has snuggled to a tee, yet there are some fascinating topics going through the details. The overall songwriting essentially grapples with the essence of growing older, whereas Haley Heynderickx is looking into a pastoral dream that may or may not be worth it in the long run amidst the indecisive frustration that comes with aging. Yet it is not just the only subject matter that she wanders through, where songs like “Seeds of a Seed”, “Mouth of a Flower”, and “Swoop”, there is a lingering reflection of generational divides and how Haley Heynderickx acknowledges that she is in a much better space than where her father, mother, and grandmother might have been back then. It adds an extra context to the overall themes, adding a subtle anxiousness in reflecting on growing older and looking to search for those dreams. That, paired with just how robust and big the melodies tend to be, does impart how much she is willing to be tossed over to that uncertain flow, where even if she did find a sense of gratitude on ‘Sorry Fahey’, it’s not going to stop her on reaching towards greater pastures in life. Perhaps, the big frustration within this record as much as it is enveloped with so many gleaming compositions all around it, might be in the writing itself. Not that it takes away from the refinements within, but there is that pastoral framing that creates a barrier on how much Haley Heynderickx’s reflections will stick further. Because as much as that personal arc can be traced the more time spent thinking through the concise poetry, this brand of pastoral beauty can be a double-edged sword, leading to gleaming musings that gesture towards those personal emotive touches rather than fully touching upon it. But despite those personal nitpicks in the writing, there are a lot of exceptional moments traced within Seed of a Seed. Brimming with some of Haley Heyndrickx’s strongest songs to date that come from the overall array of performances, compositions, production, and writing, this sophomore output ended up amusing. Even if the overall personal touches could have been observed with a closer look, the improvements are enough to make the project stand stronger than her debut. It might be just a seed of a seed, yet how it grows is all up to its control. Support the art and the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: LUSTBASS – inner space
Written by Anika Maculangan Having been in the game for a while, LUSTBASS delivers new intonations of soulful jazz and R&B modulations into the sphere of what is contemporary in style. A proclamation of lush beats, innerspace is the conglomeration of fruitful collaborations amongst the artist himself with other seminal artists like Jess Connelly, Jason Dhakal, Fern., Cavill, RJ Pineda, Waiian, Akio Rene, Nicole Anjela, and ((( O ))). Just when summer has ended, it makes us anticipate the next one even more, with this relaxed, beachy, and casual expression of sound. Effortless, wavy, and adjacent to chillwave, LUSTBASS explores the multitude of areas that the downward tempo scale of pop can encapsulate, if done right. With its easy-going, almost nonchalant ambiance, innerspace is a composed way of merging the stoical with the serene, in a more or less, leisurely mellowness. Known for his keen, cutting-edge approach to the assembly of rhythm, LUSTBASS best demonstrates this skill in this motley of modish, sophisticated indication of experience and background of joint teamwork with other fellow artists. Some tracks are more atmospheric than others like Yeyuhh, the album is transcendental in the sense that it touches every ounce of one’s attention to notation. Motioning from one switch to the next, the songs in this collection flow with immeasurable poise and flair. Not often are producers given the full stage in most cases of how we laud them in the Philippine context, but in the case of LUSTBASS, this awareness of the man behind is well apparent. In LUSTBASS’ signature polishness, it’s swift for one to recognize LUSTBASS’ appeal to reverberation from a mile away. In addition, the vocalists he collaborates with in this album, bring out even more, the smoothness of his instrumentals. Having previously collaborated with some of these artists LUSTBASS displays his propensity to apply his personal touch in all of his projects — a sharp, crisp, melodious harmony of percussion and refined grandeur. This album comprises tracks that anyone could bring with them to a vacation, and not regret it, because it’s a concise dash of opulence that is not too pronounced but just the right amount to make the sky appear broader. Brightly colored, like fresh tangerine or sand along the coastline, LUSTBASS has a certain character to his musicality, that is funky, fun, and vibrant. It instantly brings us to our feet and makes us want to start the day with an uplifting temperament. If only we could make LUSTBASS’ interspace our alarm sound to waking up every morning — so that we’d be more energized to jump back into productivity. Support the art & artist:
EP REVIEW: The Revisors – Salagubang
Written by Elijah P. The ‘90s alternative rock revival is in full swing, with Twosday channeling Britpop sensibilities, Panjia exuding youthful energy and charm, sci fye embracing grunge-era aesthetics, and The Revisors paying homage to the Eraserheads with their songwriting groove. But wait for just a second, this isn’t a dig nor a reductive statement to compare the neophytes to an already lionized four piece. In fact, they are different. “Salagubang” would beg to differ if it were to play the game. Their 5-track debut EP is worth taking into account. “Salagubang” has a bevy of tracks that aim to reminisce an era and at the same time add something new to the formula: flourishes of guitar noise in “Alina”, the mixture of sunshine pop and chaos in “Take My Hand” or the rambunctious yet wholesome demeanor of “OK Lang Yan”. – there’s so much to pick in terms of highlights. Keoni, Raco, Ninja and Zell add a lot to the table with juxtaposing sensibilities of powerful vocal melodicism and fuzzy textures that add so much personality to their arsenal. Nowadays, the music industry is filled to the brim with vocalists and bands that overstay their welcome in terms of falsetto vocals and slow intimate pacing to add some sort of dramatic yet lazy, ineffective attempts. However, the band in question did it with a fresh mind and a redecorated take on the cliches that come with the conventions of standard “OPM” singer-songwriter rock. And with the formula in mind, The Revisors played it to their advantage in “Salagubang”. There’s an entire scene waiting for them, and the current modern-day power pop/pop rock circus is in good hands with the quartet entering the fold. Support the art & the artist: