Written by Louis Pelingen Constraints can be a demotivator towards an artist’s own journey towards creation, whether that be due to the limitations that they’ve struggled through either the environment that they’re in during a specific point of time, the collaborations with other creatives that need a specific amount of mutual understanding to follow through their output, or the sudden frustrations within one’s own capability as an artist. Because whether reasons that may be, the one thing that an artist wants as they grow older is to let go of the stirring process to create and allow that spontaneous liberties to flow through; allowing them to be at ease in every step of the creative process just to make something that still shows that they still got it. After 2 years of going through creative frustrations himself, Gabba Santiago of Instrumental post-rock and prog-rock band Deb & Gabba (FKA Tom’s Story) takes a different tact towards creating his solo debut album, where his process for collaboration and composition has a lot more free rein that allows for a lot of creative liberties. A kind of tact that treats the making of music more as an expression of Gabba’s own imaginative spirit with a lot of casual, back-and-forth exchanges with his collaborators as well as letting his creative mind do the talking when it’s time for him to make the melodies in this record. Letting spontaneous ideas bubble up rather than leaning into a calculated mode of music-making. It circulates all in ‘Recollections’ being an album that celebrates Gabba’s personal freeing joy in creating music as well as serving as a sonic diaristic journey towards his life experiences. And true to its name, the album does have a lot of blends in terms of tones, dynamics, and textures that lay into Gabba’s technical musicianship and the collaborations that helped along with the project. The Math Rock riffs and pulsating rhythms of ‘Overcurrent’ and ‘Puzzle’ swivel through the post-rock sensibilities, not breaking them apart as the added presence of synthesizers as well as Clara Benin’s vocals on a couple of songs makes a lot of those fiery guitar and drum patterns to be a lot more comforting and loose. The same thing goes for ‘Woodcraft’ with the Saxophone playing by Miguel Jimenez with its calming tone that eventually accompanies the soaring progressions in the latter half of the song, the buzzy synth tones that slide around Bea Lao’s shuffling drum work on ‘Linear’, and the frenetic drum patterns that drive around the low-key atmosphere of ‘Paradigm’. While the record presents a lot of calming soundscapes all throughout the record, Gabba also embraces a lot of progressive rock swerves that allow his joy to be immense in scope. The crashing drums and expressive guitar riffings of ‘Zoomies’ certainly do their work, especially with its brief 2-minute runtime. And the distorted guitar tones that are present on ‘Fury’ and ‘Coastline’ certainly end the record on a high note where the former song imbues the unwinding melodies with an erupting edge, all with crumbling riffs and sneering noise; the latter song sweeps the meditative melodies and mix with the echoing guitars letting out one more emotive charge just before it calms down in the end, the eventual calm after the storm. It certainly has a lot to offer given the amount of tones, collaborations, and textures that are sewn into this record and Gabba certainly had a lot of fun making this in the studio, but there are some issues that can either be distracting or underwhelming. On the former instance, it’s mostly towards the mixing of the record, where a lot of the drum and guitar fidelities can sound haphazard from track to track even if it makes sense due to the composed feel that this record is providing, but it can still be quite the frustration every time it pops up. And on the latter instance, there are certain experimentations on the additions of sound that could’ve been implemented into these songs a lot better, as some of the synth and vocal implementations are there for fleeting texture rather than adding a lot more to the melodies of these songs as well as the fuzzy drum machines that may add a different tone from the organic percussions laced throughout the record but can sound flimsy than it should be. The shorter interludes like ‘Goofy’ and ‘Layout’ don’t do much in the tracklist at all with their repeating motifs that only thin out in the end. ‘Fridge Magnets’, ‘Quiver’, and ‘Interim’ also have their weak spots, where the progressions that settle into that calming atmosphere don’t open up into intriguing transitions or switch-ups alongside texture over melody soundscapes make them sound unremarkable than the others. And then there is ‘Here Now’ where despite the presence of the keys and the electronica that tilt at the end of the song, it’s one of the instances where that lilting presence ends up being a bit more hamfisted as a result. Gabba’s solo debut is an effort that shows a lot of strengths as a result of him finding a freeing process of making music, sharing ideas with his collaborators in a much more casual manner, and letting the music be a celebration and an inspiration for himself and for others as well. It may be a collection of songs that have their high points and low points, though it also pretty much feels like reading through a diary where you’re able to see how that person is going through, joys and frustrations and all. While it is frustrating at a few spots due to the haphazard mix, meager sonic implementation, and bland melodies, to hear Gabba feeling a lot more joyous and explorative within the record through the amount of variety of sounds and styles does shine through a lot. A starting point for sure, “Recollections” is a record that’s led to its highs rather than lows. Support the art & the artist:
Tag: Album Review
ALBUM REVIEW: Noa Mal – The Anatomy Of Emotional Hijacking
Written by Louis Pelingen Starting around 2019 and onwards, no one is putting in the amount of output that Noa Mal has churned out year after year. In other parts of the world, there are a lot of artists like Noa Mal wherein they’re getting a widespread reputation due to how many projects they can consistently release – think King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard, Viper, and the smattering of obscure electronic, folk, and black metal acts that have that artistic capacity to just brute force their way into a year with 3 or more projects done – looking into the local scene, there is no one like Noa Mal at this current moment. And despite carrying that sort of reputation might be interesting and outstanding to some, that can also be the kind of title that can get frustrating and lead to bigger expectations. Mostly because, with that brand of ‘quantity over quality’ release cycle being stretched over in the consecutive years, the worries surrounding sonic and thematic retreads; lack of surprises in the formula; and meager interest towards improvements across the board will come up more and can lead to going through that kind of discography to be daunting and may end up being less interesting when those boxes are ticked off. Now, after going through Noa Mal’s entire discography, the results can be a mixed blessing. While her brand of lo-fi grunge rock and slowcore comfort zone definitely mesh together easily – her gloomy topicality surrounding relationships and personal angst starts to get extremely thin due to her plain way of writing as well as persistent mixing and mastering issues that doesn’t allow the recordings to blend altogether – there are projects that do show her improving on the composition and production front. ‘Everything Is Science, Baby’ is a good starting point as it best represents Noa Mal’s sound across the board, which you can then follow up on her other 2022 released records like ‘My Corrupted Hard Drive’ that leans on the softer grunge and slowcore cuts and ‘Fear Fiction’ for some synth implementations that she’d eventually explore even further just this year with ‘Suspended Animation’. Going through with her tradition, ‘The Anatomy of Emotional Hijacking’ is her 3rd record that she released this 2023, just after the volume and banger heavy ‘Holy Hour’ and the synthetic drum and synth-inflected ‘Suspended Animation’. It continues to retain Noa Mal’s compositional strengths on the record, from the moody drenched ‘The Actress’ where Noa Mal’s prim vocal lines work well with the wavering guitar licks and percussion beats, the trudging indie rock of ‘Luci’ and ‘Deeply Tinted Glasses’ as the former staggers through due to the quicker flash of melodies alongside these carefree vocal lines and the latter coasts through grungier guitar lines that adds into the smoked out vibe of the track, the sunnier indie rock of ‘Dance For Me, Puppet!’ with the gliding vocal melodies amidst the stable fuzzy drums and brighter guitar lines, and the tempered acoustics of ‘Sepanx ka nanaman’ that brings an open space away from the numbness of the moment. As said before, with her writing surrounding numbing cycles of relationships and personal angst that has gotten stale that doesn’t give her a lot of favors at this point, the writing this time opens up Noa Mal’s writing scope as there are a couple of songs that provide more context towards the relationship that eventually fluctuates before it even started. The universal sorrow of ‘Luci’ that tackles the loss of everything and everyone as well as the social exhaustion of Noa Mal’s generation represented through Luci is an example of this that continues further with ‘Dance for me, Puppet!’ through the puppet metaphors as well as the glancing subtext of familial disappointment on certain tracks like ‘Intro: Hijacked’, ‘My Golden Town’, and ‘Sepanx Ka Nanaman’. These moments do add more to Noa Mal’s dulled-out relationship throughout the record like the tiring cycles of everyone showing her how to love on ‘The Actress’ which eventually colors how the numbness that she feels creates a different tone to the “love songs” of ‘The One Who Really…’ and ‘My Golden Town’. Songs may have this emotionally intimate tone to them, but given the context of social exhaustion from her peers and the personal dullness from all the cycling relationships, it’s now put into darker framing wherein Noa’s numbness has now bordered into irrationality, making the relationship an emotional hijacking that she eventually disposes away on ‘Sepanx Ka Nanaman’ and eventually succumbs to more layers of numbness that makes her feel free at the very end. Despite the strengths that Noa Mal has honed in on this record, the mixing of the record does get a bit uneven, more so the guitars and drums that do peak on the mix. While this issue does permeate on her 1st 2023 record, ‘Holy Hour’, it is at least consistent in terms of how loud it can be that does get compensated with punchy grunge melodies just flooding through and through, while ‘The Anatomy of Emotional Hijacking’ takes those grunge melodies with a sunny like flair that does need more balance on the mix. And despite her writing that does work a lot more in this record, it did stumble on ‘Angel of Romantic Death’ with the plainspoken metaphors that may show Noa Mal’s agency but just ends up being clunky as a result. But overall, ‘The Anatomy of Emotional Hijacking’ might not feel special in Noa Mal’s ever-growing discography at first glance even if the composition still does come off as developed, the writing and emotional throughline on the relationship Noa Mal is presenting here offers a different layer and side of her style and framing thus far. A lot more tangled and is paired with an extra set of context around it that does broaden Noa Mal’s skill as a writer given her plain style of writing hasn’t stuck out much in her past records. It’s very
ALBUM REVIEW: bird. – oshin
Written by Elijah P. 11 years after the release of dream pop and post-punk band from Brooklyn, New York’s DIIV, another band from the other side of the planet decides to name their debut album after the onomatopoeia of “ocean”. Enter Locked Down Entertainment’s bird. from Metro Manila, a 5-piece established by members from Chicosci, Save Me Hollywood, Musical O and Lindenwood. They’ve got experience and veteran status on their sleeve but as bird., they got a clean slate in the 10-track album “oshin”. The album sounds equal parts aquatic and desert-like; the former equipping drowned-out guitars and the latter chest-bumping percussion that has a high potential in clipping through the speakers. You might think that it’s balanced with all elements of the earth, but in reality it’s just 5 members showing off their surf tricks at the coast. That, in particular, is what made this band essential: surf music. But there’s more to it than just riding the waves and sitting by the beach side. Ever since their inception around early 2019, they’ve had “#vibecore” written all over their bios, but the album neither justifies the tag. They’re a step above what their descriptors are. There’s something that sounds incredibly wider production-wise – a lot more robust than any other tender-sounding band that gives off the weekend at the beach during peak season with the family. bird. doesn’t hold back its punchy rhythm sections, drummer Hannah’s tight performance, and vocalist Eco Del Rio’s ghostly presence. It’s all 100 percent from here. Significant highlights like “maria”, “Weekend”, “hardwood jack” and “the stranger” possess this kind of spiritual alternative rock taking over the musician’s astral plane while “Ride”, “san juan” and “sl” share the commonalities of being in a vacation. As mentioned before, there’s a balance to the self-confessional side of Eco Del Rio and the side of the band’s frolicking nature all the while kitting out the heavier guns at the studio. bird. is a culmination of everything that alternative rock has the potential to be locally: atmospheric, unserious, rugged, honest, and raw. SUPPORT THE ART & THE ARTIST:
ALBUM REVIEW: Alyson – DEFINITELY LOVE
Written by Kara Angan Metro Manila-based band Alyson shed their indie rock sound for Japanese city pop in their debut album ‘DEFINITELY LOVE!’. After sparse releases and landmark self-titled debut EP over the past years, the 5-piece band and their continuous championing of Ateneo’s music scene basically rebranded themselves; evoking the nostalgia of 80s Japanese fashion and music. The inspiration is clearly seen in the aesthetic surrounding the album—from the Japanese letters on the album cover to the fashion choices for their music videos for “Kiliti” and “Feel So Good” featuring beabu. At its core, this record is a faithful love letter to the genre and aesthetic. ‘DEFINITELY LOVE!’ opens with “Kiliti,” the band’s first single off the record. It starts off strong with a brass riff that introduces the overall feel of the album. Lead singer Pio Ligot’s voice is accented with backing vocals that continue the strong city pop influences of the LP. The upbeat, horn-led sound is consistent throughout the first half of the album. “My Love” and “Ginhawa” feels reminiscent of the sound off their 2018 EP, but with a stronger synth presence. The second half of the album opens with the second single, and arguably best track of the album, “Feels So Good” featuring beabu. The track evokes the spirit of Michael Jackson and Stevie Wonder-style 70s-80s pop ballads, and has the catchiest melody that becomes instant earworm-material. beabu’s lower register vocals is a great complement to Ligot’s falsettos. The bridge of the song is a solid climax as the two voices sing over each other, ending with beabu’s strong belt and Ligot’s riffs. The latter half of the album is the stronger of the two halves, featuring a more diverse-sounding set of songs. Aside from “Feels So Good,” “Summer Nights” open with a Japanese city pop-style spoken intro, “Fool” leans into 80s motown, “Babalik” opens with an a capella intro before segueing into the album’s prominent city pop sound, and “Underpass” is a strong record closer despite being a slower track compared to the rest of the album. It also includes Japanese dialogue during the interlude, which parallels their 2018 EP track “Telescope.” ‘DEFINITELY LOVE!’ is a cohesive-sounding album. However, this can be a double-edged sword—with the cohesion comes the pitfall of tracks sounding a tad too similar and borderline indistinguishable, such as the first three songs of the record. The latter half offers a better selection of diverse sounds, especially with strong tracks like “Feels So Good,” “Fool,” and “Underpass.” The city pop elements distinguish the band from their contemporaries, and is the proof of their more mature sound compared to their 2018 release. If the band continues to explore more of the 70s and 80s era music, it could offer more diverse and standout releases that still sound cohesive without being too similar in arrangement. Overall, this is a good debut album and a great reintroduction of Alyson to the local scene. Support the art & the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: Kenaniah – s/t
Lipa, Batangas’s very own Kenaniah has been hitting it big since the past year with viral Spotify hits such as “Bahala Na”, “Hindi Ikaw” and “Better Now”. O/C Records has consistently kept his schedule busy by playing a bunch of large-scale shows in the past year or so, building networks in the circuit of festivals all around the country. The 18-year old artist ticks all the boxes for sharing the same swagger with the big dogs of mainstream pop rock acts that have a suit, a tie, and a guitar. He is what other “Pogi Rock” zoomers aspire to be: a talent that’s planted by the industry. After years of brewing singles, sharing one video teaser after teaser and one record milestone after the other, Kenny looks and feels like he’s ready for the music world, and so he did it by releasing his debut self-titled album under the label; The result of which was turned upside down. The 9-track album is all duds. No variation, no complimentary sonic palette whatsoever. It’s a slog to listen to, not even your favorite performative rock band that got banned from a festival couldn’t reach the level of disappointment this album has. The self-titled album starts off with “Study First”, gated reverb from the drums greets the listener in ear-grating fashion. “Bahala Na” is followed up right away but the smash single doesn’t go hard enough to justify the outdated sound Kenaniah equipped by the time of the songs being written and recorded. Heck, even mentioning all the songs in this album feels like a waste of a single burning phrase if it was commissioned per word. The album and its songs just scream “not ready”. But we all know that Kenaniah took this sound choice a step further, bringing back the sound of 2016 in zombifying effects and beating the production and writing techniques like a dead horse. This demo quality of an album is an insult to a major label that could afford solid mixing and mastering, wherein the album already feels and sounds like it’s a highschool project: it’s raw and unfinished, nothing left to chew or bite on remarkably. This self-titled debut album would rather put a caveat of “fatigue” because of how drawn out the structures are, making the album almost impossible to distinguish if it was dissected in a “music review” format. If this is what the future of Cueshe or Adie dreamed of seeing, then the word “OPM” might be already doomed by the time they first stepped into the scene. Support the art & the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: The Purest Blue – All is True
Written by Louis Pelingen The past we have left behind manifests through still memories that have comforted us through the paths of growing up. The small bike that was used to roam around the neighborhood, the color blue that reminds us of comfort puffing in the skies, the dollhouse that embraces the imagination of a child, and the gentle warmth that gathers when we see our parents and loved ones in front of us. And even when those moments pass through us, it doesn’t mean that there is no opportunity to find comfort in them when we do get older. For Pauline Rana and her musical project The Purest Blue, that sentiment is a truth that we need to remind ourselves all the time. In the aptly titled debut project, ‘All is True’, the smallest and tightest of packages bring a lot to the table. There is a lot of tenderness and sweetness on this very record, where the production from both Pauline Rana and Sobs & Subsonic Eye member Jared Lim allows a lot of the instrumental textures to be crisp and splashy, allowing the melodies to glisten and soar, and make that return of past memories with a deeper appreciation from our present selves to really hit home. The glinting waves of synths that opens up ‘Stationary Bike’ as it sweeps through the bustling acoustics and Pauline’s cooing vocals is quite the breezy ride to start the record, which then proceeds to simmering shoegaze on ‘Blackie’ with the crystalline hiss from the guitars, the percussive breakbeats of ‘The Truth is Blue’ and ‘Carnation Pink’ that gives a lot of energy from the buzzy synth, organ keys, and lo-fi acoustic run of the former track and the sunny pop tune of the latter track, the undulating atmospherics of ‘Small House’ with the layers of melodies brushing up to the end, and the rather straightforward dream-pop soundscape of ‘Tenderness and Purity’ with the driving bass lines, soothing vocal melodies, and shuffling drums just before the soundscape breathes and moves close to the front of the mix. The only hiccup this record has is the synthetic warble of ‘That’s Us’, where even if it does fit with what the song is going for due to the swaying details of time, the synthetic vocal production doesn’t really mesh that well with the dreamy melodies and instrumentation. While this record takes that saccharine quality burst for the bright moments to shine, it doesn’t shy away from going through the grief that Pauline feels as she returns back to those memories, especially the ones that involve her past self and her father. She rolls through that grief on ‘Blackie’ and ‘The Truth is Blue’, where despite trying to find a sense of comfort on the opening track, she finds herself feeling a sting thinking through the loss she felt from past memories, overall making her feel blue, a color signified for sadness and loneliness. But that color also stands for comfort as well. In ‘Small House’ and onwards, those memories of the people and pets that she really missed from her childhood are still there with her, teaching her how to love herself and find the comfort she needs in her present self. To realize that what we feel like is missing is there somewhere in past memories, acting as truths that validate a positivity that we have to keep on providing not just to ourselves, but to everyone that we always meet and interact with. Overall, ‘All is True’ is a reflective record where the splashy quality not only resides with the colorful production and melodies from Pauline Rana and Jared Lim on the array of prismatic dream pop, alternative pop, and shoegaze, but also with the sense of finding one’s own joy from returning to the transitory space of memories even if having to find that joy also means simmering through the sadness that shakes us before. If you ever find yourself feeling like something is amiss within yourself, don’t be afraid to open the door of a past space, you might find the truth you’ll need to move forward. Support the art & the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: ONE CLICK STRAIGHT – ONE CLICK STRAIGHT
Written by Louis Pelingen If you look at the cover, the One Click Straight in the present has shifted away from the One Click Straight of the past. Their image, once observed, has always been a frustration towards the band and their overall output. In their debut album, ‘The Midnight Emotion’, they kneeled over the synthpop worship that has its significant influences from the gauzy sides of the 70s – 80s synthpop. While well-produced with its use of gauzy synth textures, the rest is nothing but a blur. It tries to resort to a ‘foolish romantic chase’ theme, but the writing itself has shunned away from instilling wonder, in that romance and the melodies themselves came off fumbling at the seams. It is interested in the aesthetics of a new romantics leaning synthpop, but never breaking free to consider morphing into something new. This flailing fascination goes to their EP in 2020, conceptualized as a sweeping set of baroque-accented songs treated with a cosmic, starry-eyed harana that goes bigger in scope: polished in its lusher arrangements and melodic chops, but letting the vocals and writing lay limp as a result. The band switched away to another transition in sound and style 5 years into their debut. They used to pull away from their Synthpop worship and replace it with Pop Rock worship; now they pull the stops as a mark of change and growth in their self-titled LP. It is swirling with a rush of energy, urgent and thrilling on the edges as the band picks up strands of Pop Rock, and Post Punk that threads itself down to a cohesive 14-track offering. Going in this direction is a good fit for the band to expand upon their sonic wheelhouse. It brings out the band’s improvements to the table regarding their writing, composition, and production in a way that feels more propulsive, focused, and immediate. “Wake Me Up” is a track evident of this, with all of its driving percussive beat and guitars amidst all the synthetic feedback, pop rock melodies that take some nods to The 1975 to great effect, and crisp vocal chops that seek to snap awake from overthinking surrounding one’s relationship and their own personal doubts. “Hahayaan” shrugs off the judgments that are propped against them, peppered with shuffling guitar strummings and snappy percussion that swarm around the chilled-out vocal melodies. “Untitled 1” opens up with percussive grooves and cycling guitar licks that accelerate and crash through as it progresses, building off a rebellious spark from those who will take the autonomy of their lives. And “Isang Kawalan” closes things off, a retreat from one’s beloved when their identity has faded. It’s a stomping closer where the crashing drums and guitar melodies pick up the rhythms as it plows through to the end. Going even further – when they do strike gold, they make out some of their best tracks to date. The quiet longing of “MRT” is a grand standout for a reason, the warmth from the solemn vocal lines is situated within an excellent chorus and the twiddling guitars and punchy drums. “Synecdoche” and its tender balladry acquaints itself with glimmering synths and calming keys, coating the melancholic loneliness and changes that permeates through the song. But beyond all of that quiet pain comes the bright presence of the lover that’s always in one’s mind, a sentiment that the song delivers wondrously. The 2010s pop rock tunings of “Untitled 2” varies itself as it incorporates some house grooves underneath, allowing the hook to pop out with the grumbling guitars. And “Gulo,” with its waving guitar progressions over the rapid drum pattern, brings enough bewilderment to the post-breakup situation of the song. It plays its bewilderment until the very end, the piano murmurs the regretful musings of the relationship. As much as the band finds their footing with this stylistic shift, they’ve embraced it to a fault that they still find themselves carrying their influences rather than carving a form that is their own. One major culprit for this is that, just like them taking huge notes on 80s synthpop in their debut, this record has a lot of rubbing off of the flagrant 90s – 2000s pop rock and post-punk stylistics that only makes the record less fascinating than it should be. “Dahan-Dahan” has its trudging groove progressions aided by the pianos that may sound thrilling at first, circulating around pacing yourself calmly amidst a world that may leave you behind. The vocal cadence and the shoutier delivery don’t have that same pumping swerve to them, leaving the song to lack any sort of wild edge to it even with the progressions trying to claw things through. “Gitna” goes to a similar issue, where the post-punk nods get rather trite with the shouty vocals and the stomping percussion and guitars. It sketches out the confusion and questions of where one’s life might lead, but the compositions don’t wrestle with themselves to make that point resonate stronger – ending up being clunky as a result. And then there is ‘Some Kind Of Girl’, an immediate dud in the record about the shy yearning towards a girl that then proceeds to put the situation in the friendzone. It’s a dull adult alternative song, paired with the obvious cloying guitar strums, processed beats, and a vocal delivery that sounds more stiff than enthralling. To dig even deeper, there is a part of the execution of these songs that makes the album frustrating to go through. As much as the production stays consistent with how the textures crumble and warp in the mix, the static rhythms of a lot of these songs make it hard to justify the 54-minute runtime of the album. It makes the album sluggish to get through, and without a big switch-up to the structure of the songs just makes things clunky and drag as a result. While the aforementioned obvious pop rock and post-punk influences hold these songs back with the progressions
ALBUM REVIEW: OH, FLAMINGO! – PAGTANDA
Written by Nikolai Dineros A friend of mine once said, “Oh, Flamingo! is the definitive OPM band of this age.” It’s a thought that has since been stuck at the peripheries of my brain. I wonder if my friend was onto something or if it was just the alcohol talking. Oh, Flamingo! was at a critical juncture at the time: the release of their sophomore EP Volumes saw the band deviating from the brazen, indie-textured 2000s pop-rock sound in favor of a trippier, more visceral psychedelic rock motif — something up the alleys of the titos and titas. While it might not have been the cup of tea of every Oh, Flamingo! fan at the time, Volumes was a welcoming treat. I left the record thinking that the band was cooking something up for their first full-length release. And they did, but not in the way that I had anticipated. Enter Pagtanda, Oh, Flamingo!’s first full-length album, and their most introspective release yet. What I thought to be the band’s culmination of their seven-year run of wacky concepts and sonic experimentations turned out to be a recollection of the human pathos, funneled by the members’ own experiences expressed through song. On the surface, Pagtanda is their most straightforward record to date. It carries heavily from its mid-’70s to ‘90s influences — the Manila sound — and proudly wears it on its sleeves. The guitars are more subdued this time around, which gave more room for the keyboards and the brass sections to shine, but guitarists Pappu de Leon and Howard Luistro still have their moments every now and then. Drummer Pat Sarabia and bassist Billie Zulueta (who also took on a more active role as a singer) are still the strong backbones of the band, often providing that trademark groove from which the other members get their momentum. The songs on Pagtanda are more downtrodden than they have ever been for the band. At times, they even get existential with the lyrics as they chronicle every point of loss and regret as one trudges the early stages of adulthood. The opening track “Makina” takes you on a trip down anxiety lane, away from the mundanity of life. In “Na Naman”, Howard and Billie sing of the shame and resentment a person would feel from being trapped in the vicious cycle of a toxic relationship. “Sa Totoo Lang” deals with a lot of heavy stuff — inner struggles, fear of the unknown, and coming to terms with one’s mortality. It also sounds like a proper OPM anthem in the ‘90s. How so, I’m not sure myself. Batang ‘90s lang nakakaalam! (I am Gen-Z) “Pag-ibig Lang Ba,” for how off-kilter its riff gets, posits a philosophical question many young adults have probably come across at least once in their lives. “Galit” is a personal favorite of mine. I couldn’t count how many times I have bobbed my head to its bubbly ‘70s funk groove and Pappu’s excellent riffage while humming about contempt and betrayal. A mood. But for how bleak some of these moments are in Pagtanda, it never felt out of place. Nothing from Oh, Flamingo!’s limited but already colorful discography has. “Sigurado” is a teaser track memorable not only for capturing the Manila sound’s sweetest pop sensibilities but also for what it stands for. The song is a love letter to our fur babies and their strong bond with their respective hoomans. The lyrics will surely tug your heartstrings if you haven’t heard it yet (Seriously, why? You’re missing out!). And while you’re at it, share this tune with your lola. Tell her you’re welcome. Pagtanda is a record of self-reflection and change. Stylistically, the album is Oh, Flamingo’s most toned-down. It was not the return to form to the eponymous EP or the evolution of Volumes I had anticipated from a band my friend thought of as “definitive OPM”. Rather, Pagtanda is the enclosure Oh, Flamingo! needed to complete their trifecta of artistic growth — from ambitious beginnings to wild, deviant phases, and to a tranquil point of maturity. This three-record run is a framework that encapsulates the human experience, and Oh, Flamingo! nailed the ending perfectly with Pagtanda. This is not to say the band should stop making more albums to ruin this excellent run. But if there is a legacy they can leave behind, it is their diverse catalogue of songs capturing the OPM sound that stands as an impetus to the experiences many can relate to, regardless of age and circumstance. Also, I think my friend was a genius all along. Support the art & the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: Cheats – Houseplants
Written by Elijah P. After almost 5 years since their last album “Before The Babies”, alternative-rock 7-piece Cheats talk about everything that’s past after their sophomore album; everything that’s past the lockdown, and everything that’s past the grieving process in their latest album titled “Houseplants”. Housing over 12 tracks and running over at 49 minutes, it took a while for the band to let the songs they’ve written for this album to sit and simmer. Let alone some songs were written when their members were facing turbulent times of their lives, even pre-pandemic. If their debut was a honeymoon period for indie rockers and their denim jackets, “Before the Babies” were the millennial anthems and wishes that could’ve been, then “Houseplants” is a culmination of the band’s chemistry, both as a musician and non-musician perspective. Although lengthier and front-loaded than their previous albums, Cheats hold no punches when it comes to writing lines about appealing to a lover, asking for someone to stay even longer or to survive in a tragic event, and so on and so forth. “Houseplants” has all members grow artistically not just individually but also as a unit, especially for the tandem of vocalists Candy Gamos and Saab Magalona-Bacarro; Their layered vocals hit the notes on top of every single textured guitar riffage, possessing every bit of melody that’s been in the playbook of pop songwriting while surfing on a Broken Social Scene-esque template. In tracks like “Cans”, “Honey Calm Down”, “Kapit” and “Hakbang”, vocals shine throughout the entirety of its runtime, gracefully singing every anthemic hook after hook. “Not To Be Alone” and “Cake” are slower and gritty drum machine-assisted tracks where rhythm guitars shine the most. “Houseplants” has it all balanced to a T. But maybe those benefits won’t be able to weigh the actual length that it goes to finish the album in one sitting. Some tracks like Snooze (Pinto) and “Cashier Club” are slightly meandering and should’ve been cut from the album overall due to its least powerful performances, mostly caused by the anthemic and compelling tracks that come before them. Surprisingly enough, frontman Jim Bacarro takes a bit of a backseat in leading the album vocal-wise. And another surprise to mention is Johnoy’s Danao “Morning After” performance, calling back to The National’s Matt Berninger due to their brooding vocal tone. Overall, Cheats’ latest offering is a product of the band’s 2-year long wait. It all had the pros of a Cheats song: fuzzed-out guitars ringing in the back, commanding percussion leading the way and most importantly the three vocalists trading every line like it was a sport. And the cons are either the band not slightly surpassing the fervor of the previous albums or the performances that didn’t show any riskier moves or soundscapes. But this was an album or rather a period where everyone took their time to live a little, surviving most of the time. Then you have “Houseplants”, an album that could’ve been released any other time, but instead, it was released at a time where we wanted it the most. Support the art & the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: Whereistome. – First Edition God Complex
Written by Elijah P. Some music journalists claimed “First Edition God Complex” to be a first glance at a “hyperpop” or deconstructed version of pop in the context of the Philippine music scene. Meanwhile, producer and singer-songwriter Tome. describe themselves vaguely to be “pop”. Maybe as a form of guessing for music writers or listeners just to create this sense of curiosity. And as the ears try not to deceive the listener, their debut album falls under the r&b and glitch pop canon. This album exhibits experimental production and sensual r&b that goes far beyond their usual sonic spectrum. But before anything else, Tome. doesn’t push anything further than aping already innovative production techniques from their influences or constant left turns in the mix that is already done years before. Rather, they advocate something than just mere “copying” – as some naysayers would mention. Tome. does it in ways where their emotive songwriting could expand the worldbuilding in writing in “First Edition God Complex”. After listening to the album in full, the listener can say that this is Tome’s own world and we’re just living in it. The first three tracks of the album, “gravity (intro)”, “ATLAS” and “iridescence”, give us a taste of Tome’s offerings, setting a precedent going forward to the debut album. There are copper snares, metallic-sounding percussion, and heavy synths that pale in contrast to their EPs 2 years ago. Album highlights like “AMOEBA”, “NO!!”, “BAKUNAWA” is designed to be played at an underground club filled with leather and flashing lights. Although not aimless, there are hints that Tome’s still getting there in terms of polishing their own sound. But in terms of the unrelenting “oomph” factor, the album’s production is tighter than most alternative-r&b records that claim to be the “hardest”, and Tome. does it with trial and error. The guests in tracks like “ATLAS” and “4LIFE” have significant misses in guests keeping up to Tome’s stylistic production and pacing. But that doesn’t diminish the quality of Tome’s r&b-accented music displayed in a conceptual hellscape somewhere in the middle of nowhere. This is heaven on earth more than it is a hellish experience lurking in the ears of its listener. Slightly leaning in a more promising direction, “First Edition God Complex” is an impressive feat for a debut album. And it’s not impressive without its big misses in between. You have underwhelming performances; production overshadowing the vocal lines every verse or two; the overall track arrangement isn’t as notable as their previous EPs. But looking at the bigger picture, Tome. can and will break through time and time again. This is a promising artist you folks shouldn’t miss out on and this is just the first edition. SUPPORT THE ART & THE ARTIST: