Written by Faye Allego Without a shadow of a doubt, Ely Buendia has an iconic and notably one of the most recognizable voices in OPM. His wordplay, chord progressions, and a whirlpool of psychedelia you feel after reaching the coda is top-notch during the Batang 90’s era of OPM. But now I ask myself: Is there a dark cloud of doubt in his newly released record, Method Adaptor, in the rearview? When Buendia released “Bulaklak Sa Buwan”, his lyricism shone through, continuing to create parallels and paradigms conveying themes of delusions, misconstrued mindsets, and the irony of fantasy. That being said, this body of vulnerability as a whole could constitute as a throwaway Eraserheads mixtape from the ‘ole Cutterpillow days. The lead single itself is a wonderful homage to the batang 90’s sound. It surely brings exuberance to fans who have been there during Buendia’s early rise to fame and have witnessed his impact on the OPM genre in real-time, however, like (almost) every artist who goes solo after years of being in a successful and impactful band, their past reputation precedes every lyric their future solo albums has to say. In Method Adaptor’s lead singles, you hear what Buendia feels, but do you feel it too? It’s there to sing and dance along to, but not enough to swoon over Buendia’s typical magical ingredients that make his songs linger. In multiple interviews pertaining to the release of Method Adaptor, Buendia created this album out of reflection on fame and life- and the stresses that come with it. It’s an inside look into the mind of someone who spent a long time pondering what it means to have lived a life ruled by youth, art, and irrevocable passion. In tracks like Faithful, however, it seems like the thought was there, but emotional umph was stagnant. In fact, he even communicates this precariousness in the same track: “There’s so much that I wanna say/ I just don’t know if I can say it this way” The narrator of the song is tired and in limbo, yet, the tune he plays lives on, almost never-ending. As one may know, if it’s Buendia on vocals, it’s almost guaranteed that the listener will hear an upbeat hymn that may tell any story out of the ordinary. A great example of this out-of-body experience that you feel when listening to Buendia’s voice actually comes the song titled “Shallow Breathing” from his debut solo album, “Wanted Bedspacer”. With Method Adaptor, “Tamang Hinala” is a song that exemplifies Buendia’s lyrical and instrumental devices and approaches that fuel this album. You get a repetitive yet addictive chorus as well as verses that show off stimulating cadence such as “Ang tanim ay siya ring aanihin/Guguho ang kastilyong buhangin/Madulas ang balbas parang Hudas/Ganyan lang talaga ‘pag minalas”, Every instrument seeps perfectly into the chorus without sounding overpowering or underwhelming. The appeal of tracks like “Chance Passenger” or “Deadbeat Creeper” is colorless to the point where certain verses like “And you wear your spirit well /Satisfy the clientele /Make me want to set her down” as well as vocals that are bordering on the stringy spectrum that confuse the narrative of the song. It feels like I’m reading a notes app poem- there’s nothing wrong with a notes app poem, however, translating feelings of desire into melodies is critical to transform filler songs into album staples in an album like ‘Method Adaptor’. Alternatively, if Buendia continued or even interweaved his experimental sound and velvety vocals highly executed in his previous songs, namely “Monday Mundane”, “Hotchik”, and of course, “Ligaya”, I could have understood and truly felt the thematic undertones of reliving youth, regret, grief, and desire more deeply. Overall, Ely Buendia’s distinguished and seasoned love for songwriting is definitely evergreen and everpresent, his music legacy will always be a pillar of inspiration for generations to come, but his reflections seen in his second album, Method Adaptor, seems to translate into feelings of muffled confusions that almost glaze over what could have left a lasting memory of his caliber of a voice and mind. Support the art & the artist:
Tag: alternative rock
EP REVIEW: The Revisors – Salagubang
Written by Elijah P. The ‘90s alternative rock revival is in full swing, with Twosday channeling Britpop sensibilities, Panjia exuding youthful energy and charm, sci fye embracing grunge-era aesthetics, and The Revisors paying homage to the Eraserheads with their songwriting groove. But wait for just a second, this isn’t a dig nor a reductive statement to compare the neophytes to an already lionized four piece. In fact, they are different. “Salagubang” would beg to differ if it were to play the game. Their 5-track debut EP is worth taking into account. “Salagubang” has a bevy of tracks that aim to reminisce an era and at the same time add something new to the formula: flourishes of guitar noise in “Alina”, the mixture of sunshine pop and chaos in “Take My Hand” or the rambunctious yet wholesome demeanor of “OK Lang Yan”. – there’s so much to pick in terms of highlights. Keoni, Raco, Ninja and Zell add a lot to the table with juxtaposing sensibilities of powerful vocal melodicism and fuzzy textures that add so much personality to their arsenal. Nowadays, the music industry is filled to the brim with vocalists and bands that overstay their welcome in terms of falsetto vocals and slow intimate pacing to add some sort of dramatic yet lazy, ineffective attempts. However, the band in question did it with a fresh mind and a redecorated take on the cliches that come with the conventions of standard “OPM” singer-songwriter rock. And with the formula in mind, The Revisors played it to their advantage in “Salagubang”. There’s an entire scene waiting for them, and the current modern-day power pop/pop rock circus is in good hands with the quartet entering the fold. Support the art & the artist:
EP REVIEW: sci fye – who knows?
Written by Anika Maculangan For those of us who grew up in Manila — a love/hate relationship often prospers. We carry so much frustration toward the city, yet also a fondness for it. With experiences like staying past curfew, hopping on the LRT right when it’s about to be full capacity, and sipping a cold San Mig along Manila Bay, we’re mostly indecisive on what to think of it. So what comes out of our subdued thoughts when we hear a song like i hate manila from sci fye’s latest EP entitled who knows? I don’t know, who knows, at this point? Maybe that’s the solid aimlessness it tries to convey. Like a pseudo-Cobain with more of a local undertone, sci fye highlights a grimy, snappish texture. Like washed-out graffiti beneath the underpass. Or scraps of crumpled receipts and candy wrappers along the tunnel. Think baggy jeans that reach the concrete, and skateboards with loose pivots. Densely immersed in distortion and fuzz, tracks like deadbeat generation extend a darker impression of rock. Although a debut, sci fye moves itself with its own surprising capacity for good mixing and stable production — something a lot of debuts are usually still shaky with upon their onset. However, the duality that is provoked within the songs’ reverb-studded guitars and brash, shrill drums is something that can be titled as imposing, for its harsh yet punkish accents. More soppy tracks like hanggang sa walang hanggan yearn to wake up just in time to see the sunrise trickle through the seams of transmission towers and billboards. What is another thing to observe in sci fye’s debut is the different personalities that each track seems to embody, distinct from one another. Although there is still symmetry somewhere along those varieties, since they still all fall within the same relish for dissonance. Songs like whiteflower and magulang profusely releases its greatest bouts of dread and foreboding malaise toward the city’s chaos. Perhaps it communicates the desire to escape its madness. Repeating the lyrical lines “Ako’y nahihilo sa ikot ng mundo”, what we can discern is the want for a pause, a break, or a ceasing halt to all the babel. Maybe sci fye is called that for a reason, because it suggests so many dystopian themes, perhaps through the language of lengthy bridges and Brutalist condominiums. Like putting on your tangled earphones one sweaty afternoon, who knows proffers the emotive features of parking next to NAIA, to watch airplanes either land or leap off the ground. Every track is a tribute to grunge in one way or another, placing emphasis on garage-metal basslines and riffs. Sci fye instigates a static-doused tonality, one that matches Manila’s musical palette for enkindled overdrive. Gritty and loud, like the engine of a retro Corolla about to ride down Aurora Boulevard, they amp compression over to its appendages, for waveforms that defy frequency. What they ultimately bring to the table is the age of a post-Pearl Jam, or even Soundgarden noise range, making a name for its own Manila equivalent, in light of pondering over journal entries in pieces of yellow lined parchment paper. Support the art & the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: July XIV – Hunger
Written by Louis Pelingen Six years might be a long time, but the result is worth the wait. July XIV is an indie rock group whose debut project has been waiting in the wings for some time now. Back in 2018, they first put out “Hunger,”, their very first single that carries off a potent rock tune amidst Evee Simon’s tender vocals punching through the vigorous grooves and soothing melodic flair. That song is perhaps the only song they’ll put out in the open during that time, as they have been focused on performing live since then, with more songs that they will eventually bring onto the record. Some of those live songs will be then released in 2022, keeping that upcoming project still bursting with hope after all that silence. 6 years have since passed, and July XIV have finally put together their debut album, charmingly titled after that debut single, Hunger. Running just around 28 minutes, July XIV brought together a tightly-knit package of indie rock cuts, a straightforward enough descriptor executed well through the stronger compositions by members of this band, as well as the production, mixing, and mastering duties by Evee Simon, Kevin Ingco, and Megumi Acorda respectively. Allowing these cuts to have a consistent sound quality, even if the dryness can run together at spots. But nevertheless, the blend of punchy textures paired with contrasting moments between flashy passages and tender moments are at least solid, from the riveting guitar work and solid grooves of “Chainsmoker,” the aforementioned “Hunger” where Evee’s vocals spark every time the song hits the chorus, the grunge flair that pops up on cuts like ‘Belief’ and ‘Deus Ex Machina’ with the meaty guitars smashing through with aplomb, and the string accented ‘(with feeling)’ allows the album to end in a more solemn note as those weary strings anchors a welcome emotive presence within the instrumentation. Ruminating towards the lyricism, the album title “hunger” feels apt for what Evee Simon is reaching out within this album, as her writing focuses on yearning for so much more within life despite the sense of loss and hardships being felt and gathered over time. This focus sticks the landing due to the sharp metaphors intensifying the drive to live within a grounded reality. Clinging towards dreams, memories, and fantasies keeps the protagonist moving onwards which eventually culminates in “No Sugar” where the protagonist ruminates how getting older does make them wiser and stronger, yet that maturity still can’t drift away the pang they still feel towards losing some important to them on ‘Revelations I’. But despite all that, “(with feeling)” put things back to a much more hopeful but also complex scope, where despite questioning the overall spectacle towards what it means to be a musician, it still gives a reason for the protagonist to feel alive—perhaps creating a new dream that they want to achieve sooner rather than later. Despite the cut-and-dry approach to the production alongside the briefness that can leave the back half feeling less stellar as a result, the melodies that July XIV puts into have some invigorating moments, and the lyrical arc that observes and reflects one’s own hardships and yearning to hold on to better things have sharp details that are worth looking into. Hunger as an album might be a double-edged sword, keeping everyone who has waited for this album to feel satisfied on one side but also leaving too much empty space on the other. Yet, when the album does hit its stride – an exceptional one at that – it leaves us hungry for so much more. Support the art & the artist:
TFL’s THE 23 FILIPINO TRACKS OF 2023
Every year, something monumental happens in the music scene, whether it would be an army of alt-kids taking over a mall show, a rapper taking over the country by storm on Tiktok or a DIY venue at the verge of crumbling after two shoegaze bands. Genres have multiplied into bubbles, ecosystems emerge as newer venues from the highways of Cavite to the driveway of a basement at a Chinese restaurant. There’s a steady scene rising, amplifying louder one year after the other: 2023 is a year where those highlights have made made an impact beyond NCR. From Luzon, Visayas to Mindanao, we present to you a yearly tradition that the editorial team would always prepare themselves for; Not just because it’s the task that’s daunting, but it’s the journey and the result of 11 months of scouring the internet and gigs for the best of Filipino music. Here it is, The 23 Filipino Tracks of 2023. 23. P4BL0 – baka magalit mf mo In the “18 Commandments of the Boybestfriend”, there’s unnecessary fluff written along those ridiculous rules. However, P4bl0’s “baka magalit boyfriend mo” has this lasting effect delivered by its cloud-9 like production, ultimately writing one of the best pop hooks in the game now. It hasn’t been written on the scribes nor the tablets that South Metro Manila regular P4Bl0 made a banger track tailor made for the rebounds. Whether it’s the wacky gimmick of BBF/GBFs or the semi-ironic execution, P4bl0 has proven and tested that the undying concept of love and yearning can be done in a dreamy cloud-rap fashion. -Elijah P. 22. O Side Mafia – My Thang It’s been an endless streak of hit singles for O $ide Mafia despite the lackluster collaborations and disputes between territorial beef and fan leaks; “My Thang” is a victorious reaction to all of the success outweighing all of the group’s cons in the game. The simple old-school 2000s G-Funk influenced synths, the satisfying braggadacio three-verse combo and the killer hook is an all-time career highlight for the group and they just stay winning while all the haters watch. -Elijah P. KRNA expand on their infectious sound by expanding their soundscapes to include reverse guitar samples while pairing back on KCs vocal strength. The single shows the band’s mastery of making heartwarming music and a story of yearning that feels like a warm embrace being whispered while in a slumber. -Janlor Encarnacion Armi Millare announced her return to the music scene with a dissonant pop single – taking the time to show her own prowess in music creation with a tune leaning towards more pop and r&b. Roots signals the metamorphosis and re-emergence of OPMs signature voices and we can’t wait for more. -Janlor Encarnacion ‘Sonic Tonic’ is the long-anticipated debut that charges Suyen’s magnetic presence amidst the fray of fringed pop rock, a bottle of riot grrl and grunge blends where Suyen just sounds high-spirited in her craving for that adrenaline rush. Sam Marquez’s production is impeccable in bringing the heatwave atmosphere to ‘Sonic Tonic’, where the already remarkable chugging riffs and splashy drum work are vibrant and immense. Enough to keep everyone cheering along the soaring hook, ‘Sonic Tonic’ is a striking first cut from Suyen who is never afraid to jump first into action, letting her do anything to reach a gratifying emotion that will keep her feel alive. -Louis Pelingen ‘SOUFSIDE’ is a meteoric statement from the Cebu Hip-Hop collective ASIDE BOONDOCKS as they erupted through the scene with their tastes for boom bap and hardcore hip-hop. Flagrant in their hyperbolic expressiveness, that ecstatic flair allows each of their distinct flows to tumble through the stirring hypnotic beat that has a quirk of its own due to its swaggering bass lines and buzzy synth waves. ‘SOUFSIDE’ stamps a mark that will break further ground for the Odd Future-inspired Hardcore Hip-Hop ASIDE BOONDOCKS are leaning towards, where they’ll spark an explosion that you can’t help but feel its heat. -Louis Pelingen With Waiian’s recent return for his sophomore album, ‘SMILE’ is a track that has a familiar thematic trudge from this rapper who has a lot more to observe past his 2020 debut. In this pensive reflection on the mortality and bullshit of life, Waiian invites Yorko and U-Pistol to pen down their emotions on the table amidst a relaxed boom-bap beat and calming piano lines. As a result of that writing session, ‘SMILE’ ended up being Waiian’s best song to date where the melodies are tight and catchy on all quarters from Waiian and Co. No wonder that ‘SMILE’ is one of the lead singles for Waiian’s recent project for a reason, as it’s a respite that brings a gentle smile on constant repeat. -Louis Pelingen 16. PETTE SHABU – Bulbulin Ka Na As PETTE SHABU goes deeper into her experimental rap tapestry with every track she puts out, her transgressive lyricism and ferocious flows become more sharper. That in itself eventually led her to release dozens of challenging sonic bangers in 2023, with ‘Bulbulin Ka Na’ bringing the most sting out of her thus far. Through every whirling wordplay PETTE SHABU spits out, her flow turns impenetrable as PETTE SHABU confidently carries herself within horseboyy’s dense glitchy beat. ‘Bulbulin ka na’ is a bulldozer that keeps PETTE SHABU in control of her agency, lashing down everyone who comes for her without shame. -Louis Pelingen The dizzying hyper-pop artist known as AHJU$$I may have retired from that moniker, but his rebirth as Pikunin has those old bits and pieces intact, now ribboned with UK Garage rhythms and ticklish vocal flair. These characteristics manifest through Pikunin’s debut track, ‘Tadhana’, using Armi Mallare’s cooing vocals as the Jersey club beat tiptoes around it which also serves to be a bouncy springboard for Pikunin’s chirpy vocals and twee lyricism. Starry-eyed in nostalgia with a modern touch, Pikunin spins a refreshing take on the classic song that updates his eccentric brand of pop with gleeful yearning. -Louis Pelingen
EP REVIEW: Toots – Jargon State
There’s a lot to process in “Jargon State” – the debut EP of alternative-rock and indie-folk solo act Toots. For listeners, this may sound like the typical coming-of-age project in the form of a Donnie Darko-inspired backdrop. For Toots, it’s not easy being green; He embraces his own worth, the age that he’s in, and the surroundings that engulf the sonic palette throughout the EP as well. It’s as rewarding as it is an adventure to course through. “Jargon State” is a five-track debut EP worth keeping. Written and recorded during the periodic times of searching for himself in a strong emotional tidal wave; it’s either during the search for a peace of mind or wrestling against a bigger force. But in “Jargon State”, Toots has proven himself lyrically otherwise that it’s okay to let things sit, gradually waiting for the storm to turn into a calmer state of mind. From the alienation themes of closer “Jargon State” to the angsty dissatisfaction of the stellar opener of “Fall”, there’s a lot to pick up in terms of production and instrumental choices in this project. In “Hide and Seek”, the loud-quiet-loud dynamic has found a perfect balance; Acoustic guitars morphing into a heavier, more robust electric guitar. In “Memory is a Trap”, you have the intensifying yet gentle accompaniment of the protagonist’s vocals and his trusty guitar, “Shell” and its pop structure make you lift your spirits at an all time high. Toots’ varying levels of vocal delivery are the obvious highlights through and through. But on the surface level, the relationship between the instrument and the artist are its greatest assets in “Jargon State”. As you listen to the EP more, you’ll start to notice that he has triumphantly submitted several acts of catharsis whether it would be distorted vocals, plucked sections of intimacy and synths weaving across a verse filled with several trains of thoughts. “Jargon State” has all whatever variables of intimacy you can find in an indie-rock record. There’s vulnerability than there is shattering, off-putting states of emotion. A resolution with a fine-tuned ending. A heroes’ redemption arc with the added human, adulting themes. Carved like Ben Gibbard but determined like a Built to Spill narrator, Toots is in his own league in his debut outing. Support the art & the artist:
DEMO REVIEW: cheeky things – demo
In the local DIY community today, Metro Manila outfit cheeky things arrived in the first quarter of 2023. Their URL story started with a Soundcloud page – a lone Duster parody – and a couple of noise pop covers. The five-piece follows suit to the IRL, championing a tweemo backdrop with the help of their indie guitar heroes in live shows. And for a band that has been teasing their WIPs ever since the release of their little “demo” two months ago — by the way, a Bicol tour is already set in stone at this point — one would expect at this stage that a full-on record should be ripe for the picking. But hey, we now have a three-track demo, and it is packed to the brim with loud, grungy guitars, high-tempo drums, and the dreamy sensibilities that are commonplace in any track. But while this project certainly has all the makings of an EP, it is still a personal dilemma to me whether or not to make heads or tails of it as it is — a demo — and base my judgment of it on what it is, what it could be, or what it could have been. For the uninitiated, this demo is a gateway. The seemingly compact demo is a sonically massive 3-track project to look out for. It is raw, absolutely balls-to-the-walls, and unapologetically alternative. I would even be remiss not to mention how the oversaturation of the shoegaze-twee-alt-rock fusion bands writ large has made it all the more difficult for cheeky Things to come through as their own, but the result of which made the success of this release all the more commendable, and eventually carved a niche that is proudly one of their own. For the listeners who have listened to their plethora of influences and sensibilities, fans of the garage sound are in for a treat: tracks like “korean blackout curtains 7ft (1 pc, not set)”, a noise-rock anthem that has cemented its place as a favorite amongst the Manila alternative crowd, is Mellon Collie down to a T, and has a phenomenal intro that will transport you back to a time when you first listened to Psycho Candy. The song’s outing also meant the first for the band to incorporate Tagalog in their lyrics, making it an easy sell for many. While “smashing” on the other hand, while not as talked about, features some of the best dynamics between each member. Whatever your thoughts on this release, this cheeky Things demo serves as a litmus test for both the artist and the listener. In its current state, whether finished or unfinished, you either get it or you don’t. And even if you do, there’s still a lot to unpack in its heavily loaded arsenal; it does not hinder itself from pushing the noise level past its threshold. And who knows, maybe we have not seen the last of these songs and if we’ll still be as (un)accepting of them as they are now once we’ve witnessed them in their final form. But enough speculation. As far as I’m concerned, I passed the litmus test. Support the art & the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: Japanese Surplus – unceremoniously
Written by Elijah P. Soundcloud in 2023 is rich in material to the point that solo artists are still celebrated to this day, whether it would be a bedroom musician making random notes on a toy piano to the nearest black metal project found in your local barangay. And one of them that shares the local spotlight is up-and-coming singer-songwriter, Japanese Surplus. In their latest track titled “unceremoniously”, there’s a lingering feeling from the fuzzy reception of “lovespring” to the recurrence of themes in the latest track. The artist’s warm voice shines brighter than the lackadaisical guitar chords and beatbox, acting as a hybrid of Aly Cabral’s vocal runs and Jasmine Rodger’s (bôa) melody-making. Albeit the uncommon comparisons, there’s fair treatment of potential waiting to come out at any given time. And Japanese Surplus is one of the writers to watch out for today in the current province-wide crop of singer-songwriters. SUPPORT THE ART & THE ARTIST:
EP REVIEW: Goon Lagoon – Rocket Peace
Written by Nikolai Dineros Elev8 Me L8r has no shortage of young, explosive rock-oriented bands to their name, but Goon Lagoon’s unapologetic take on grunge harkening back to the genre’s ‘90s roots proves to be their one defining aspect. The last couple of years has also shown us bits and pieces of what the band has going for with their sound (with varying degrees of success), with 2022’s Machine Gun being their most notable. In one of our previous reviews, we highlighted the song for its off-kilter motif and chaotic twists and turns. Now, with the release of Rocket Peace, Goon Lagoon’s identity is much clearer — and what used to be the band’s best work is now a part of something bigger. As the Goon Lagoon hype ele8ed (sorry) with gig announcements alongside this EP launch, so did Machine Gun’s cult fame, while a slightly superior Down The Drain seeped through the cracks as the band’s best material to date. “Down the Drain” is in-your-face in almost every way, with its muffled vocals, infectious riff, and drowning levels of flangers. Amid the chaos and noise, the songs in Rocket Peace have a lullaby quality reminiscent of Sonic Youth, with guitar solos and synths aplenty. This is especially the case with the closing track “Pocket Grease,” which I assume is a wordplay on the record’s name or the other way around. ‘Rocket Peace’ is so full of surprises that it’s almost criminal of me to include that in this review, as the EP’s explosiveness is what the record is built upon; each surprise comes when you least expect them. And when they do, they hit you at just the right spot. SUPPORT THE ART & THE ARTIST:
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: