Baguio is quickly becoming the new source of music in the Luzon archipelago, birthing the likes of Dilaw and Turncoats. From the most unexpected of places comes a new entry into the math rock/emo/pop punk ring: Amateurish. Don’t let the name fool you, they are nothing but. With tight instrumentation and relatable lyrics, the quintet hailing from the mountains of Baguio has made a name for themselves by blending elements of math, emo, and pop into an addictive sugar rush that comes with a post-rush emotional downer. A lot of math rock and pop punk influences are used throughout the album – notably in the single releases – but also some alternative and funk sprinkled in to keep the listening experience fresh, specifically in some acoustic parts in the title song towards the end. The rollercoaster of emotionscoversr a plethora of feelings such as indifference, heartbreak, depression, and resilience with heavy metaphorical drug references – each song providing an intense but quick dosage of each emotion in each song. This places the title track as a fitting end to the whole experience: a somber reminder of getting back to reality and rest. The band’s recent signing to Offshore Music is a well-deserved milestone for the band. They are currently planning a multi-stop tour to promote the release and is a no-brainer for any avid music fan; their live performances are a sight to behold. One thing is for sure, though – they are not amateurs. Support the art & the artist:
REVIEWS
TRACK REVIEW: Shaira – Selos
Some call it “B-BOP” (Short for Bangsamoro Pop) and some call it “music you would hear at the public market” or straight up a “2000s Banger”, we call it a masterpiece. Moro Singer-Songwriter Shaira Abdullah Alimudin, better known by her stage name Shaira, has unexpectedly swept the charts with her single aptly titled “Selos.” If you think about the track carefully, there’s actual staying power with tracks that are as immensely effective as Shaira’s booming career alongside her Moro cohorts. The public perception of Disco Moro as being inferior shouldn’t stay any longer as the music thrives all over the country’s music scenes. Characterized by a rhythmic blend of colorful synths – whereas the melodies replicate the bamboo flute – and groovy electronic drums synonymous with Indonesia’s Dangdut and other varied selections of Western Disco and Malay Dance Music influences over the decades, Disco Moro has been a community staple for parties, weddings and other religious celebrations alike. But other than writing the celebratory anthems in Disco Moro, the most common themes are love, everyday dilemmas, etc. Shaira is one of those artists who proves that interest in Disco has never waned over the years among their communities. “Selos” is rich with hooks, humor and energy on a normal day. It is purely a pop anthem for many to listen. While there are existing discriminatory efforts to bring the music down, there’s actual community support from her Moro Singers, ranging from Koronadal City, Lanao Del Sur, Marawi, and many more cities from Mindanao who have a heavy roster of talented keyboardists and singers who are fully booked for months. This is a call for celebration for not just Shaira as an individual artist living in Mindanao but for Moro Music at large. Support the art & the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: U-Pistol – Last Splinter
Written by Louis Pelingen A decade after he first popped up in the local music scene, Zeon Gomez has worn many masks under his belt through the multitudes of projects and collectives that he has worked on and contributed with, overall showcasing him as a jack of all trades within the local musical circles, namely his other side project Promote Violence; bands like Rome and the Cats, Moon Mask, Spirit Ocean; and collectives like YoungLiquidGang, and BuwanBuwanCollective. Through these jumping points that Zeon has taken from differing acts after another, an important part that needs to be acknowledged is that even as he flits across various side-projects, his knack for venturing within the waves of gleaming synth electronica, stirring pop melodies, and personal lyrical flair has always carried over, developed further under his main musical alias: U-Pistol. Through his first two albums in the 2010s, his ambition to embrace those characteristics above is shown in their clearest sights, not to mention the features spanning from Sarah Bonito, Aseul, Yikii, and others that reveal his firm stance towards curating Asian artists as he was deeply invested with J-Pop, K-Pop, and C-pop during the time. While he hasn’t donned that mask quite often in the 2020s as he slowly starts working behind the scenes through the music prod Kashira, his growth as an artist over time hints at a sonic shift waiting to happen, especially with his embrace of hip-hop under the U-Pistol and Promote Violence namesakes. 8 years since he put out his last material, Last Splinter is the 3rd long-awaited installment under U-Pistol’s discography, careening through sonic foundations that he propped up in his past projects like “Waste” and “Girlfriend,” but the overall showcase of his brand of synth gleaming electronica has now matured, branching off into an evolved version of his style. Underneath the glassy synth works are an array of elements that create a genre-shifting project where past aspects of his past projects now manifest here, further bringing in blaring guitars and shuffling rhythms that only hone in U-Pistol’s great strength towards creating snappy hip-hop and pop melodies amidst propulsive production within the project’s 35-minute runtime. His performances on ‘Glass Garden’ and ‘Hortensia’ in particular are remarkable, his mellifluous range as he silkily flows across the feet-shuffling soundscape of the former and tenderly sings on the somber acoustics of the latter shows that he has exceeded as a rapper and a singer. Of course, it’s not a U-Pistol project without a collage of collaborations helping out in this project, settling more towards the local music scene, an intended decision that gets reflected through a specific part of the eventual narrative. Fellow Kashira prod members like Calix and Tatz Maven help crystallize a lot of the colorful instrumental soundscapes as well as the sonic clarity of the project; Hanako and Syn under the old Spirit Ocean band lend their vocals, where Hanako’s prim voice assists on the tuneful albeit instrumentally clunky “Blue-Eyed Grass” and Syn’s stark performance on the reworked version of a previously released Spirit Ocean track “Marigold, in the Afternoon” with additional guitar work from Arkyalina carries the exhausted yearning of the track; VS VIDEOTAPES’ and yx2’s co-production on the light and fuzzy textures of “VS VIDEOTAPES INTERLUDE” and the jersey club groove of “Plum Blossom” respectively are exciting additions that manages to blend within the consistent production scope of the album, allowing the melodies to bounce and fizz a bit more; SHNTI’s sense of effortless cool works in-tandem with U-Pistol’s sleek flows on “Wisteria” and its scratchy beat as “Wilting, if Forever Never Comes” tailors the thematic arc of the project. The sense of maturation eventually sneaks through in the overall narrative of the project. Conceptualized around the masked man in his glass garden waiting for a certain flower to bloom that acts as a metaphor for U-Pistol’s self-isolation post-break-up, it paints a familiar theme that he has waded upon on his past projects. Namely surrounding the wilted romance that he still yearns and clings to, a connection that he wishes to keep sparking despite knowing that the ex in question now has somebody else entirely. It’s a situation that leaves him conflicted and hurt, the angst pulling him deeper and deeper into melancholy. Yet as the album progresses, he gently picks up past the heartbreak and eventually decides to leave the entire situation as he notices that there’s no benefit in waiting for that flower to bloom. It’s a vivid arc that U-Pistol portrays effortlessly, yet the personal emotional nuance is deepened a little bit further, specifically directed toward the collaborations he pulled in for this project. In ‘The Chained Man Inside the Glass Garden’ interlude specifically, there are these various murmurs from multiple people that call out to Zeon, expressing worry towards his state of ennui, asking him to hang out and telling him if he’s feeling alright. These voices that were heard don’t come from strangers but are the friends, collaborators, and various people that Zeon knew and bonded with personally in his life, placing their overall presence in this specific interlude as an acknowledgment of the support that Zeon has during this eventful turmoil and seeing him not through the U-Pistol name and his various musical works, but under Zeon as the person that they know and care about deeply. It’s a small moment that does so much, recognizing the number of people that Zeon cares about as he acknowledges how much they’ve helped him back in his life, overall making the collaborations of this project feel so much more personally heartfelt and synergistic. And with that comes the project’s overall blast of sonic mixtures and a case of strong foundations embellished with the well-placed blending of sound textures, styles, and performances from U-Pistol & co paired with neatly arranged compositions and familiar yet deeply invested emotional throughline. As U-Pistol leaves outside of that glass garden, there is another field that opens more space for him to flourish in. Last Splinter
ALBUM REVIEW: Bling – PURE BLISS NO WORRIES
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:
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.