Written by Elijah P. Solo artist jucu doesn’t fake it. His latest EP, tanging alaala, plays like a memory dragged into the present—half-faded, half-reconstructed, but it doesn’t pretend to be authentic. The “distant memories” he sketches out aren’t framed through nostalgia but through the raw texture of alternative sounds. These are genres that doubled as both shelter and symptom during the post-pandemic ennui: post-punk, shoegaze, indie-folk, and other guitar-led corners of the scene. It’s a familiar palette for Gen Z’s genre-hopping musicians—the ones who aren’t afraid to twist the template and upload the results straight to the void (for this case, his expansive discography on his Soundcloud account). tanging alaala reads like a dare. It’s a direct translation: “only memory.” Obvious? Sure. But it works because jucu doesn’t try to cloak honesty in metaphor. The name is a low-hanging fruit, but sometimes, that’s where the sweetness is. From the opening tracks, “Insomnia” and “Salubong ng Ating Mata,” jucu shoves expectations aside; Drum machines sprint, and the acoustic riffs snap into reverb-heavy guitar washes. The production jolts, but it holds together. “Cookies and Cream,” the EP’s centerpiece, sprawls out at six minutes—a dangerous length for a young artist worth their salt in sticking to one sound—but jucu makes it land. The track meanders through hazy shoegaze into a kind of misted-over noise rock, his vocals ghostly, but it so happens to stay grounded throughout the entire thing. By the time “our love has faded away” hits, the emotional terrain feels more regional than imported, it is transformed into post-punk grown from local soil instead of borrowed from across the ponds of the revivalists of the North Americas (think Beat Happening, Surf Curse or even Voxtrot) or even the cloudy skies of the United Kingdom (think Cleaners from Venus, Joy Division or Young Marble Giants). No, tanging alaala doesn’t transcend genre—it doesn’t try to. And maybe that’s its biggest strength. jucu knows the blueprint and doesn’t flinch. He stays inside the frame but paints it with a sense of clarity most genre experimenters tend to blur. The textures, the pacing, the commitment to the mood: it’s all consistent. Maybe too consistent, whereas the conventions might act as a detriment if ever they choose to lessen the experimentation and continue to rely on these conventions heavily. There are moments in this EP that beg for rupture or surprise, but jucu plays it straight, showing that sometimes the best way to make a statement is to simply do the thing well. It’s not anything new, per se, but rather a refinement of the sound. There’s something real forming here—maybe even something worth sticking around for. tanging alaala diamond in the rough waiting to be discovered. SUPPORT THE ART & THE ARTIST:
Tag: alternative rock
ALBUM REVIEW: Linger Escape – We All End In The Same Place
Written by Faye Allego At midnight, gasping for air, wondering where life will take on, emptiness appears in a dreamlike sequence. It’s peculiar, it’s suffocating, but it has always been familiar, like the hand of a lover who swore to hold on tight when diving deep into the trenches. Well, Linger Escape holds a requiem for that feeling in their debut album, We All End In The Same Place. In the world of nu-gaze, it’s easy to put on a respirator to filter out the fumes of repetitiveness found in shoegaze and other genres that fall under that umbrella; that repetitiveness being the same knobs of emotion being turned on the guitar pedal, the longing, the distortion, the buzzing, the fizzling, the static, the reverb, all of it. Perhaps, things don’t have to sound unique to be good, or the very essence of repetitiveness is not inherently bad, and that is where Linger Escape proves that those fumes aren’t toxic at all: In “Nothing”, the 2000s Nu-metal riff seeps in and blends with the honesty found in the lyrics. Instead of pairing the growling vocals with a sensual approach, the low-frequency phone call effect used in the primary vocals instead creates a dichotomy of past versus present, or, bringing emphasis to the lyrics “still digging for the bones, of what once was, of what has been”. Their most popular track, “Whisper”, thrusts a knee-jerk response to the listener prompted by the change in atmosphere. The song takes you to outer space where everything is uncertain, and all there is left is to ponder, once the riff glides into climax, the song ends as if the listener is taken through a metaphysical spiral, circling through the axis of experiences, memories, and so on. We All End In The Same Place is an 8-track album where the first half seems as though the band is hurriedly yet slowly establishing their true voice, presenting their sonic capabilities through varied quirks and sequences in the guitar distortion and the heavier percussion. As the latter half of the album proceeds after the 5th track, Linger Escape progresses and establishes that unflinchingly honest voice and sound. In “Gone”, the longest track on the record, the band unleashes the restraint of complex emotions that are evident in “Kin” and “Vermin”. Unfolding into a slow yet cathartic release with the soft yet stern meddles of the drums and the guitar as raw as the vocals, the listener is almost compelled to feel doom that the song will eventually come to an end. Will they be in the same place as they were before? Only time and the act of submersion into nostalgia can tell. As the album ends with “Bloom”, Linger Escape’s evolution is palpable. A sense of finality hits, and everything makes sense: the very sequence of before, during, and after. Shoutout to all the Life Is Strange fans out there. This is Max Caufield as an album. Overall, this album paves the way for the Bicol Shoegaze scene. It isn’t just a debut album; it’s a statement of intent. The four-piece doesn’t shy away from merging different sounds into one nostalgia-core mood board, and it doesn’t try to reinvent the genre either– they hold a mirror, albeit smudged and fogged, and let the listener look into its depths and take a deep, long breath. SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST:
TRACK REVIEW: .foollstop – L
Written by Adrian Jade Francisco Fallen angels—once held in the heavens, now cast down, wandering in the aftermath of their descent. .foollstop’s “L” is shaped in a similar sentiment, an anthem of loss, reflection, lost in the reverie of ill-fated romances. San Pablo’s .foollstop has released their initial shoegaze track, a year elapsing since their live debut at Mow’s. The euphonious mix of the instruments, Huwakin’s and Ice’s vocals are cascading rivers of tears that transcend into sound, echoing throughout the song. A touch of rap alongside shoegaze is featured in the second verse, which is not something you hear in the genre every day; The monologue section before the breakdown of “L” is a bursting bottle loaded with emotions that erupts in the ending, drowning in tremolo-picked guitars and layers of vocals. Taking a glimpse at their “L” demo in Sining Shelter’s compilation “tunes for a true home,” the band slid the key into the right lock in the final version by incorporating more audio tracks in the mix. “L” weaves biblical metaphors into its narrative, portraying the perspective of a fallen angel caught in a fleeting situationship. Just as the fallen angel once knew the embrace of heaven, the narrator reflects on the short-lived moments of a love that couldn’t last. You may interpret various words from “L” such as “loss,” “ love,” or “limbo” but you can not associate the band’s debut with “loss.” Unlike the fallen angels, .foollstop’s wings chose to soar and may further introduce something of substance in an uncertain future. Support the art & the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: Chinese Garden – In Hiding
Written by Elijah P. There is something spellbinding about Chinese Garden’s debut single, “In Hiding.” From the first note, the track pulls you into a world that’s haunting and hypnotic. The lead vocalist’s longing, almost yodeling runs are the centerpiece, weaving through a sonic landscape that feels both intimate and expansive. Twisted electronic textures flicker in the distance, while sparse, echoing instruments create a sense of unease. Meanwhile, the loud, fuzzy guitar in the foreground anchors the track, giving it a visceral edge. The band’s mellow arrangements and poetic syntax feel tailor-made for the yearning hearts and restless souls of “In Hiding.” The production teeters on the edge of collapse, like a glitching computer on the verge of melting—yet it never loses its grip. Instead, it adds a layer of unpredictability that makes “In Hiding” all the more compelling. Bright, shimmering guitar tones cut through the haze while the delays stretch into infinity, creating a dreamlike atmosphere that’s hard to shake off. “In Hiding” speaks a language that resonates with dive bar scenesters and acoustic purists who’ve embraced the digital age. It’s a track that defies easy categorization, drawing comparisons to Phoebe Bridgers and Snail Mail but ultimately carving out a sound entirely its own. By the time the song ends, it’s clear that Chinese Garden isn’t just another band in the indie crop—they’re a unique force that’s unafraid to blur the lines either from the organic and the electronic, the nostalgic and the futuristic. The track lives in between. Support the art & the artist:
EP REVIEW: SUYEN – SUYEN IMNIDA
Written by Louis Pelingen For many people born in the early to mid-2000s, the knowledge of living in their early 20s in the year 2025 is a pressure that can’t be shaken easily. Time is running past them quickly, requirements and responsibilities are stacked high, and the world is opening below their feet so much that it is hard to keep up with its tide. It’s an overwhelming time to grasp what’s happening in front of their eyes, but sometimes, it’s important to live through it and find something to cope with amidst that exhausting part of their lives. To SUYEN, she faces that exhaustion by picking up her red guitar and unleashing her feelings through her debut EP, SUYEN IMNIDA. Assembled as a timestamp of her young adult emotions, she waddles through pieces of pop rock with bits of brit-pop shimmer and twee sensibilities as the cherry on top. She’s yearning to cope with the pressures she carries as a 21-year-old, her passions lie through her girlish delivery that showcases her exuberance. The title track plays with her name being mistaken for her identity through nimble guitars and playful vocal deliveries. “Tampo” glimmers with the additions of rondalla amidst admirably lilting tones, and “Bente” stomps with its staccato keys and flaring guitar passages that build into a riotously joyous chorus. While the small-scaled scope allows SUYEN to release all those bubbling feelings from her sleeves, her stumbling points can be quite noticeable. Her production with the assistance of Zild and Sam Marquez may provide snappy flair to the melodies, yet the inconsistent mixing doesn’t give them many favors. Vocals tend to be in a tug of war with the guitars, leading them to be pushed either in the front or the back in the mix. It’s also evident that SUYEN is still curious about gauging her vocal presence to the music at large, sometimes capturing the sense of yearning and playfulness decently, but not exactly working well when trying to be enticing on “Something ‘bout u“. This follows through with the overall sound itself, embodying 2000s pop-rock flourish very well. Yet the lack of a distinct melodic core leads to SUYEN wandering within this general sonic palette: texturally full, but sometimes becoming musically dull. For what it is, SUYEN IMNIDA opens the gates to where SUYEN’s ambitions will lie – a snapshot of where she was in the past and a reminder of the roads that will open up for her in the future. The journey into the bewildering 20s may be scary to some, but for SUYEN, with her red guitar in her arms and a cheery demeanor on her face, is enough to take on the world ahead of her. Support the art and the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: One Click Straight – Telepono
Written by Noelle Alarcon Proudly wearing their years in the local music scene under their belt, ONE CLICK STRAIGHT’s evolution is evident with every release they put out. Finding their niche through speaking out on matters of the heart, it’s no surprise they came up with “Telepono.” It’s as if they’re professing vulnerabilities through the coiled telephone cord, hoping you’ll make out the earnestness from the receiver. Over time, OCS has always kept their trademark: the production of their music closes in on your ears, engulfing you in the reverb of their spilled truths. This fits their style just right–with the heavy-handed strumming of their guitars, the rattling echo of the snare drum, and the breathy articulation of the Marquez brothers. In “Telepono,” they blend these elements with radio rock staples of the late ‘90s and the early 2000s. These are heard in the littlest quirks, like starting the song with a crescendo to a drum fill, or the brief moment where everything is so distorted the instruments crackle into static, making room for the vocalist’s poignance. It’s tracks like this, inspired by the desolation in cold city dweller settings, (as seen in their single covers) that people connect with most. But like long-distance confessions through the circuit lines, it’s hard to grasp the extent of affection “Ikaw lang ang gustong kausap” encompasses. For a song so honest, its intentions need more than the derivation of song structures that were once in fashion–”Telepono” yearns for the fullness of sound that OCS is known for. Criticisms aside, “Telepono” is another catchy, memorable track from OCS. The warmth it possesses keeps you company in the midst of the biting wind under evening skylines. It’s the late night dial you never expected to ring, whose words are filled with such endearment that they keep you up until the morning.
TRACK REVIEW: Wuji Wuji – Careless
Written by Jayne Caray Despite ending the past year with close to no media presence and zero hints of a release, Wuji Wuji ends it with a surprise announcement; 2024 was not for naught after all, the sextet was busy doing something else, something new. In a Facebook post made 4 days before 2025, the band teases their single called “Careless” from their upcoming release “NOVISION”. Now, the question is, how much difference did one year make? Right off the bat, the latest track signals a stylistic departure from their former releases. Wuji Wuji initially spent 2023 exploring and experimenting with multiple genres. The band initially got recognition as a City Pop act inspired from retro Japanese aesthetics; ranging from the 80’s fluorescent green-tinted street style to the 2000’s old school Hip-Hop. In “Careless”, the band retains a few of these elements, but musically, they have become quite unrecognizable. The Disco and Hip Hop influences from “NOSOUL” are missing as we see the band donning new sonic textures denser and more mature than their previous tracks. The bassline along with the heavy-hitting drums set a slow burn that drones out throughout the entire song. Engulfed in its misery, the vocals drown yet echo a haunting loneliness that resembles aching from the Slow Rock bands of decades past. The single stands as one of the more somber tracks in Wuji Wuji’s discography, a possible indication of the foreign yet intriguing path to be taken by the upcoming EP. It makes one wonder why Wuji Wuji switched up again all of a sudden. Was it a new persona to add? A new direction for the band? Going into the track, “Careless” was initially confusing. The band has changed musical styles throughout the years, making their discography as colorful as ever and so, with 2023’s “Kanluran”, you would expect them to lean heavily into their City Pop roots. As much as this was not the case, the latest single has proved itself worthy of being taken seriously. The dedication and amount of effort the band has poured into their new sound is evident within the single. Wuji Wuji has made it clear that they’re not just messing around and that ending up with a year of inactivity is just the consequence of doing so. Although “Careless” was far from being expected, it still wound up as an endearing change to their discography. Support the art and the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: Ligaya Escueta – Dollweb
Written by Anika Maculangan Ligaya Escueta’s latest album entitled Dollweb is a means to commemorate the occasion of turning 18 — a pivotal moment in one’s life, with lots of changes to come. Not to be fooled by her gothic aesthetic, the album comes to one’s knowledge in the vein of ‘coming-of-age’, as one follows through her journey of self-discovery and reflection. Escueta’s music career launched as early into her life as she was 13, being mentored by some of Manila’s household names such as Acel Bisa-Van Ommen and Mikey Amistoso, who have helped her flourish over the years as a musician. From her first single The End to now, a full album, one can clearly acknowledge how much her sound has evolved. In Dollweb we notice vocals to be more concise and polished, demonstrating how much more care was taken in mixing and production. It’s also to be noted that Escueta’s instrumentals have become more complex and multi-layered, contrary to her earlier songs, which were more humble and simplistic. Her rise and growth as an artist is comparable to other musicians like beabadoobee, who started as a young creative making music out of her bedroom, to playing for larger audiences. It’s a sense of progress that’s inspirational at best, since it allows for listeners to follow them through their success as an artist. By listening to Dollweb, it’s still detectable that Escueta is just like every teenager who garners some influence from bands like Weezer and Blur — although, that’s what makes the album all the more genuine and authentic. Dollweb doesn’t try to go beyond itself, it sticks to where it came from. Just by Dollweb in itself, we can envision what Escueta’s bedroom looks like — band posters splattered across every wall, a tower of effect pedals in one corner, and a diary of collages, journal entries, and lyrics laying by a desk. Escueta doesn’t feel like a ‘distant’ artist, introducing that sense of truthfulness in almost every song she conceptualizes. All of the emotions and thoughts which she expresses in her tracks stand out the most for their validity — as they convey in such accuracy, the confusion and messiness that is to be met upon entering youth. While more synchronicity could be tended to in the future, these small flaws are what makes the album true to where she is in life right now. We mustn’t forget that at the end of the day, she is just 18, as we all once were, and nobody is ever perfect at that age. If anything, the slight malfunctions, mostly in musicality such as late tempos and missed beats are what furthers Escueta to being an honest artist. Someone much younger than her could be streaming her music, and realizing that there is no inherent requirement to immediately be immaculate. She also informs her audience that it’s never too early to start. While it’s hard to be taken seriously as a young musician most of the time, she proves otherwise. One of her tracks Laughing in Milk had managed to be released under Tenzi Records, and by that time, the local scene had already gained familiarity with her music. Dollweb is her most cohesive project, exemplifying just precisely how she wishes to develop her music moving forward. At the moment, her sound is reminiscent of other dollcore-adjacent artists like Lalleshwari (Katie Jane Garside) and Solya, however for all we know, this could shift at any given moment. We can see that there’s a lot more definite room for exploration, as Escueta still has the freedom to better solidify her sound. For now, she has Dollweb to concretize her presence in the music scene. She’s one of many, who represents the younger generation of the local community, and it’s always exciting to have that glimmer of hope — that there are up and coming musicians who the torch can be passed onto. What Dollweb provides is a promising future — that edgy undertones within the indie rock scene will persist. Dollweb is an album that speaks the veracities of adolescence, from the most anguish-ridden to the most delightful. It brings all of these mixed elements into one collection of songs and brings the listener back to those days — when everything seemed so mundane yet complicated. The album justifies these encounters and experiences, making it all the more vital for younger listeners, who need something to connect with — amongst the vast pool of musicians, who cater more toward older generations. Support the art and the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: Noa Mal – I’m the outsider, looking in
Written by Nikolai Dineros “Quality over quantity,” a popular adage that has guided countless artisans, artists, and authors in history into crafting masterpieces. However, it appears that Noa Mal is not a huge proponent of this. For the famed lo-fi grunge pop artist, it’s quality through quantity. “I’m the outsider, looking in” marks Noa’s return after a busy four-album run in 2023, a feat that made her stand out from the rest of her contemporaries. And much like her past releases, in true DIY fashion, she handled everything from the writing to the arrangements, and production, all the way to the promotion post-rollout. This level of work ethic is as commendable as it gets, but her 15th album release showed us that her hardworking nature is less of a flex of her discipline and more of a fundamental part of her creative process. With all the roles she assumes under her moniker—as a lyricist, musician, producer, promoter, and as the very character she presents—Noa Mal has always kept a tight grip on the self, compartmentalizing her feelings across different tracks that show different sides of her very complex personality. For example, “Someone Like Me” sees Noa claiming her many tendencies as intrinsic parts of her being, and no other person in the world can come close enough to draw a baseline similarity from which to form a connection. In contrast, “The Serpent” shows her willingness to let someone in, though not without giving caution. These are no unique concepts per se. Even in her past albums, she employed similar approaches to songwriting. While, from this example, she doesn’t steer too far from being a starkly different person from one song to the next, she chops up several aspects of her whole self and scatters them across multiple tracks where nuance can then take shape. As far as her style of lyricism goes, Noa Mal has stuck to her guns in her latest record. However, the same cannot be said about her approach to production, which showed hints of boldness and resistance from her usual artistic disposition. “I’m the outsider, looking in” is arguably the most electronic Noa Mal has ever sounded, which opened new doors to how she packages her music and accentuates her messages. For instance, the guitar work in “I Am Not Someone / Drink from the cup” reached a bellowing low that was never achieved in prior Noa Mal releases. The drum machine displayed in the album has also never sounded more artificial—and, by virtue of grunge, has never sounded more grunge. It was almost as if Noa Mal was rebelling against her past records that never attempted to go all out the way “I’m the outsider, looking in” did. Ultimately, Noa Mal’s uncontested discipline and dedication to her craft extend not only to her work ethic as an artist proven competent in releasing music in quick succession. It is also rooted in the foundations of her creativity. Every piece of music Noa Mal puts out is short and sweet, and every album release is a claim of her individuality with all its many faces, some of which look the same as another but with different intricacies tied to each layer. It is through this sheer quantity of her scattered pieces that she was able to build an image we can never mistake for anybody else in the slowcore umbrella. “I’m the outsider, looking in” provides another piece to that puzzle. Support the art and the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: The Braille Flowers – The Magician Was Shot Dead (Scarlet Rivers)
Written by Nikolai Dineros If you’re just hopping on The Braille Flowers now and this is the first song you hear from them, we won’t blame you if the dream pop aspect raises a few question marks above your head. The four-piece band started their journey by taking a dream pop-adjacent route in “Just to See You” before going on an indie pop direction in “Lately.” And now, with “The Magician Was Shot Dead (Scarlet Rivers),” the band is pushing a flashier and headbang-worthy sound into their mix. Less delicate and more pedal-to-the-metal, “The Magician Was Shot Dead (Scarlet Rivers)” is as direct as it gets for an alt-rock song. From the guitars that are as gritty as The Smashing Pumpkins in their “Gish” days to the shamelessly harmonic guitar fill-in licks and solo section, it’s almost as if The Braille Flowers was measuring how far they can take this loudness without steering too far from their mellower roots. Even the lyrics, courtesy of Francis Masangkay, now have more wit to them. Francis employs a less self-reflective and vulnerable approach in favor of a more playful and adventurous (yet at the same time, cryptic and self-preserve) approach without sacrificing the emotional core of their songwriting seen in their two previous releases. The band was simply having fun putting together “The Magician Was Shot Dead (Scarlet Rivers),” continuously looking for ways to reinvent themselves. It is still up in the air how The Braille Flowers will navigate their sound with all the genres they have already explored and incorporated into their sound in such a short amount of time. If anything, they have proven themselves capable of writing such captivating songs while adopting different styles, with “The Magician Was Shot Dead (Scarlet Rivers)” being their second-most cohesive thematically, only behind their debut “Just to See You.” On one hand, their listener base may not prefer if the band continues to stray from their dream-pop roots. But on the other hand, it would be interesting to see it all come together, now that they have more than just a couple of tools in their toolkit.