EP REVIEW: Pinkmen – Neptunes

Written by JK Caray Following a string of single releases spanning a couple of years, Offshore Music’s Pinkmen finally released their debut EP after a period of constant track launches within the past year. Far past their 2019 hit ‘Hanggang Sa Muli’, Pinkmen had the better part of 5 years to focus on progressively honing their distinct style within the music scene; however, the question still nags a few, was the long wait even worth it? The answer whether or not it was lies in Pinkmen’s dedication to their latest release ‘NEPTUNES’. With a runtime of 35 minutes, the EP begins with the track ‘Historical Revision ’24’; a reprise of their catchy political 2021 single ‘Historical’, consisting of even more tongue-in-cheek references and quips. ‘Di Pa Rin Sapat (Ang Sahod)’ drives the band’s stances even further, carried by vocalist/lead guitarist Giro Alvarado’s moving and powerful vocal performance over a somber instrumental that reflects the common folk’s everlasting problem.  Third on the list, “Lately” includes droney, weeping guitars that decorate a thick wall of sound. The dense ballad structure makes it an unassuming first listen, yet it turns into a sentimental banger upon multiple listens, enough to be a solid pick for a break-up playlist. Oddly enough, ‘Art Song’ breaks the immersion that came from the earlier tracks. Its position momentarily skews the flow of the album, due to its nature of being a ‘nonsensical’ song, as it comes directly after two earnest ballad songs. Nevertheless, Pinkmen proudly wears their influences here, with the track being eerily similar to a ‘Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band’s song. In ‘Hourglass’, bassist Mark Armas animates the song forward with his highly infectious grooves and licks. Arguably one of the more enjoyable moments of the EP, the track seamlessly blends elements of neo-psychedelia and disco to form a fresh and distinctively unique sound. ‘Habulan’ sells a rich narrative as it features local rockstar Ely Buendia’s signature poignant songwriting at the center of the song. Themes of ambition and longing make up for an empowering track that makes ‘Habulan’ an anthem for hope and resiliency.  Lastly, NEPTUNE’s last song ‘Miscom’ stands out as the resonant end to the entire release. Evocative and nostalgic, the song banks on classic feel-good musical conventions—jangly guitars, dynamic drums, and compelling chord progressions—paired with bittersweet lyrics to deliver that familiar sense of melancholy. And it succeeds in doing so, with the entire track sounding like a trip to the past, a chat with people you’ve sworn to hate but have since forgiven with time. After years of waiting, we could only hope for the band to continue riding the momentum of the ‘NEPTUNES’. This release marks a milestone in their discography and has shown the band that they could make it; because now that they’ve proven themselves capable, nothing’s stopping Pinkmen from getting to higher heights. 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:

EP REVIEW: Austri – the place where birds meet

Written by Anika Maculangan The place where birds meet, Austri’s first official EP release, takes one on a roadtrip across SLEX, through every province, with no destination in mind. It’s the stops at gas stations, piling up in the 7-eleven, and camping out at the back of the car, that tracks like “Circling” reminds us of. Purely acoustic, with the undertone of ambient tonalities, this is Austri’s initial venture into making music of his own. Once just making covers of Elliot Smith’s “Between the Bars” and The Microphones’ “My Roots are Strong and Deep”, it seems so that Austri has taken it upon himself to try his hand at finding his own original sound. His discovered sound, as demonstrated in this EP, is melodically tame, exemplifying a tender and gentle temperament. Perhaps still a bit demure and modest, from being the introduction to hopefully, many more music to come. Austri’s vocals, crisp and mellow, are able to counteract the deep essence of the lyricism. “Learn to live but first learn to die” he sings in “Thousand Winds,” which evoke the rest of the EP’s blithe and carefree nature. Austri takes risks in this EP, especially when it comes to the honesty he brings forth in his music. In the build-ups that progress to grander compositions, Austri links his folkish tendencies to more of an indie pop disposition. In this harmony of warm cadence and soft inflections of resonance, there is reference to the migration of birds — how they never stick to the same place, and are constantly moving from one place to another. In a similar sense, we too, humans, have this penchant for change.  As time goes by, we find ourselves at different places, depending on where the wind takes us. In this EP, this is what Austri seeks to make us realize. It’s the wooden plaque or wall decal you’ll see somewhere, trying to pull you into being motivated and inspired again. Something that says life is a journey or whatnot, that feels cheesy at the moment, but holds its own true merits. Who knows, maybe in that moment, you actually did need the reminder, and you were only too stubborn to see it for its genuine validity.  This project feels personal and intimate, and for Austri to confide in his listeners, feels like a special privilege of sorts, as we hold the key to this secret garden. It’s a kindred level of frankness we can also garner from other artists such as the likes of Adrienne Lenker and Phoebe Bridgers.The place where birds meet is an insightful look into what it might look like from above, from a bird’s eye view. It brings into perspective how things may appear on a larger scale, when looking at the bigger picture. For someone making their debut, this is the exact enthusiasm they may need to keep that ambition going. In Austri’s case, the sound of trees rustling and birds chirping somewhere in a wheat field is what incites his creative engines to turn. Though a subtly calm setting, this environment is what brings out these profound introspections from Austri’s end, unleashing a candid and sincere collection of songs. What The place where birds meet brings to the table is simple and light accents of sound which we need more of these days, most especially during these typhoon-ridden times. It’s home, it’s refuge, it’s a passage away from the noise. Support the art & the artist:

EP REVIEW: LONER – DROPSTAR

Written by Jax Figarola Stepping back from the energetic beats and quicker rhythms of drum n’ bass in Lean Ordinario’s sophomore album ‘Make Noise,’ LONER—his solo project—ventures into new territory with five tracks of mellow techno-trance music in his third album, ‘DROPSTAR.’ This shift in genre reflects the influence of Metro Manila’s underground rave and club culture, which has surged in popularity post-lockdown era.  Transitioning from syncopated breakbeats and heavy basslines to faster tempos and ambient synths, LONER charts a new course while maintaining a kinetic pulse that keeps his old fans in the scene engaged. His shift from creating drum n’ bass, which is a genre relatively uncommon in the Philippine electronic music scene, to a more conventional blend of house and trance might initially seem like a move towards the familiar. Yet, ‘DROPSTAR’ defies expectations, proving to be anything but ordinary. While it might lack the novelty of his earlier work, it certainly rises above mediocrity. LONER still embraces the fast tempos characteristic of his previous releases, but this time, with a spirit of experimentation. He incorporated elements of house music, crafting seamless, repetitive melodic pounding of kicks and hi-hats against rich ambient synths, creating beautiful instrumental interludes. Furthermore, his charismatic and resounding vocals, especially on tracks like ‘Stop Playing’ and ‘Don’t Wanna,’ fit well in the project’s theme of noncommittal love and situationships. His voice feels like an invitation to an intimate, late-night dance—just you and LONER, lost in the rhythm, filled with moxie and mutual infatuation. The serene four-on-the-floor drum patterns where his vocals are absent offer a refreshing change of scenery. Beginning with the pre-game energy of ‘Stop Playing’ and building up to the dreamy crescendo of ‘Figure It Out,’ the album evokes a hypnagogic state on the dance floor. Each track during its instrumental passages offers a corrosive and psychedelic moment, transporting the listener to another world. My personal world was under the mushrooms in a forest, where I danced with Pinoy gnomes to a storm of spores. Despite the project’s brevity, clocking in at just under 15 minutes, ‘DROPSTAR’ quickly becomes an earworm especially after repeated listens. Each track, while distinct, contributes to a cohesive whole art piece. The ambient synths that dominate when vocals are absent beautifully complement LONER’s voice when it reappears, peaking the dance experience in standouts like ‘Bahala Ka Na’ and ‘Figure It Out.’ Despite the seemingly minimal production typical of trance, the production in ‘DROPSTAR’ is anything but minimal—it’s a profoundly sublime art piece in its entirety. With his amazing past releases and this new project, LONER’s contributions to the Philippine electronic music scene truly deserve applause. SUPPORT THE ART & THE ARTIST:

EP REVIEW: Yaelokre – Hayfield 

Written by JK Caray Keath Osk, more known by their stage name Yaelokre, has captured the attention of the Medieval fantasy-loving, Renaissance Faire attending part of the online community—garnering millions of streams, likes, and even a fandom of their own. An all-around storyteller, weaving stories through music, art, and performances, the artist first showed promise through their single “Harpy Hare”. After a few months, Yaelokre follows up with their debut album “Hayfield,” the prologue to their ongoing musical centered around the world of “Meadowlark”.  Depicted with gorgeous art and a strong stylistic direction, it’s clear that “Hayfields” is part of the love project that Keath Osk has been brewing for years. However, it is still the kind of art that can be hard for some people to digest due to its perceived peculiarity. As for the music itself, “Hayfields” is a tight and cohesive concept EP, with influences that range from The Oh Hellos to AURORA. Although it suffers slightly from its unpolished production, the picturesque storytelling paired with the eloquent almost Nordic style of singing proves effective at showing the points across. “Hartebeest” for one sets a thrilling introduction, hyping up the entire album aside from its cryptic lyrics. In it, the scene is vivid: it feels like running in a mystical forest that promises one-of-a-kind adventures. “Harpy Hare”, the more known single, is a catchy stomp-and-holler song about an overprotective mother told through interesting symbolisms and metaphors. The track carries the energy that Hartebeest starts with and adds more to it; Yaelokre’s headstrong voice being the center of the song, every word pristine. In “And the Hound”, the blistering tempo mellows down as it goes to a more ballad approach, featuring the most moving and most powerful vocal performances of the entire EP. Here, Yaelokre boasts their prowess in songwriting, the lyrics being equal parts morbid and captivating.  The closing song “Neath the grove is a heart” starts with gentle flutes and builds up the song along the way. Compared to the other songs, the song is much lighter yet still as grandiose. Warmth is felt across the beating of its drums and the harmonious vocals in the end, innocent and magical. It is an enchanting ending that calls back to the start of the EP as it includes leitmotifs of “Harpy Hare”, and “Hartebeest”, further hammering the feeling of going home.  By now it’s obvious that this kind of project does not mix well with some, but Yaelokre’s instant rise to success may have exemplified the amount of naysayers. Scrolling through the comment section of some of their posts, a horde of people express their disapproval of the concept calling it “cringe.” While the question of it being cringeworthy is subjective and varies from person to person, is it bad to just have whimsical fun?  “Meadowlark” as a whole is a world built on childlike wonder, a time where judgment was not yet commonplace—would it hurt for us to revisit what it felt like back then? Sure, Hayfields and the rest of Yaelokre’s works may not be for everyone, but when it does hit, it hits you hard. Support the art & the artist:

EP REVIEW: Yung Masa – MY KARMA RAN OUT

Written by Elijah P. Being a jack of all trades can take you somewhere, especially when you can balance out the dynamics of being a producer and a songwriter. These particular skills are something to masterfully juggle throughout your entire career span. Moreover, up-and-coming rapper and songwriter Yung Masa takes on the challenge of balancing different subgenres of rap in his debut EP titled “MY KARMA RAN OUT,” teetering with synthpop, drum n bass, digicore, and 2020s anti-pop sensibilities, mixing them into this cauldron of a project. The end result? A hot mess scattered by a relentless number of influences that don’t consistently gel well. “PRELUDE (could’ve been)” is an opener that overstays its welcome, while “GOODBYE” expresses my excitement for this EP to be over—not to mention the weak hook and singing. “DOWN” has harmonies that yearn for a Christmas Time remix from Alvin and the Chipmunks, while “RUN!” wishes to write like contemporary local rappers that sound like RB Slatt. However, “LOSE MYSELF” and its overall production could have defined the EP as a whole, with emotionally resonant vocal delivery and drum patterns that pay homage to 2020’s electronica. However, one takeaway the listener can get from this album is to not mistake all the futuristic, cyborg, Blade Runner-like visuals for actual material substance. “MY KARMA RAN OUT” was a frustrating listen from front to back. Sometimes the possible influences can get in the way and act as a detriment to its content. It’s like Mokujin except the impersonations don’t fully resonate to render the journey victorious. Its punches are weak, the lyrics are out of it, and the bar is extremely low for the remainder of this debut EP.  Yung Masa’s “MY KARMA RAN OUT” should be renamed to a different title; maybe “My Originality Ran Out” is more fitting. Link:

EP REVIEW: BINI – Talaarawan

Written by Louis Pelingen With the news of BINI breaking new grounds on the Billboard charts and eventually dethroning Ben&Ben on Spotify in terms of being the most streamed OPM group in around 2 years, it showcases a grand successful milestone not just for BINI themselves, but for the P-pop scene in general: a hurrah for a lot of P-pop and K-pop fans where they celebrated the return of Bubblegum Pop in the mainstream local scene given the acoustic folk-pop chart dominance for a long time now. Although the Bubblegum Pop sound has been boiling in the local indie spotlights if you know where to look, there is still value to be had towards this groundbreaking success of BINI as it gives a fresh coat of paint to the local mainstream music scene right now. This all leads to the first EP of BINI, Talaarawan. To start, the performances and the melodies have a solid foundation throughout the EP, allowing the collection of cheery P-pop songs to feel vibrant and well-composed. The performances naturally carry off the loose and charming tones that are not just embedded into the hook-driven melodies, but also the writing and instrumentation that also surrounds them. While they do stumble a bit whenever they break out on the rap verses, they do at least manage to keep up the upward optimism that remains quite infectious.  However, for an EP that is described to encapture the breadth of emotions and stages of life and love, that essential idea starts falling apart really quickly with a few glaring issues that sadly overshadow the melodies and the performances. The lyricism, despite the passing metaphors that differ from song to song, does not have enough intriguing flair to go alongside it. As it immediately goes into romantic platitudes where the sense of yearning and empowerment blurs into one another, Talaarawan lacks any detail that can open up the emotional depth of the writing, making it less special. Besides the writing, a lot of these songs still carry the same mixing issues as the previous BINI projects, where cuts like “Karera” go a bit too loud in the mix,  “Pantropiko” and “Na Na Nandito Lang” having similar loud mixes and then some, and the inconsistent vocal fidelities that create a big distraction on those two songs. But this all rolls into the big frustration of this EP: the production. From the general synthetic instrumentation to the stiff and dated production choices, they never really allow the melodies to properly pop off and the vocal harmonies to be as stellar as they need to be, eventually taking away the brisk vibes that these cuts are going for, especially on “Pantropik” where the synthetic textures completely blemish the summery tone of that song.  However, there are still moments of passing quality that BINI still pulls through: The effortless opener of “Karera” where the performances just go off amid the decently bubbly beat; the melodic glimmer on “Salamin, Salamin” remaining really sticky even despite the bass rhythms getting a bit janky on that song; and “Diyan Ka Lang’” that closes off the EP on a good note with enough remarkable synth lines that blend well with the retro-inspired drums. Even with all of that, there is a big missed opportunity for BINI to take a drastic swerve in terms of their sonic palette, especially when their shift in sound from project to project has always seen slight changes, taking the safest tangents instead of diving into fascinating genre influences and experiments that the contemporary K-pop scene has currently embraced.  Because, if they did manage to take that colorful array of genre elements alongside production and writing refinements, it could strengthen the concept of this EP, where the variation within genres and production textures paired with the solid vocal and melodic foundations at the core can be an absolute boon to BINI. But, Talaarawan as a whole just does not go there. Instead, in every passing good note there are disheveled musical scribbles that overshadow the better aspects of the EP.  Stuck in a stiff sound that doesn’t allow BINI to encapsulate the set of emotions they wanted to express in these diary pages, they at least managed to land on the important emotion that will guide them onward: joy.  Support the art & the artist: 

EP REVIEW: SHUICHI – YEAR OF THE RABBIT

Written by Jax Figarola Following shuichi’s well-received 2020 debut EP, “somniloquy,” he returns with “YEAR OF THE RABBIT,” a collection that invites listeners into a world of introspection and dream-like grief and longing. He presents a haunting blend of dream pop, bedroom R&B, and ambient electronic elements in music that creates a strong feeling of a bittersweet ache in your chest as you lie awake from grieving the loss of a person still living, distant and far away. The EP opens with “COUNTRY,” a track that sets the melancholic tone. You are greeted with arpeggiated chords that resemble faded photographs, each note a fragment of a lost love. The lyrics tug at a familiar ache – the longing for someone who feels like a distant dream, and shuichi captures it with a poignant honesty. The overall vibe invites quiet contemplation, allowing listeners to immerse and drift away in shuichi’s world of emotions. “SLIDE” throws its listeners into a disoriented spiral. The slow tempo and layered vocals evokes a deeper sadness – the desolate wistfulness that could be heard from the vulnerability in his vocal delivery. Yet, the solace of finding his lover only in dreams underscores the ephemeral nature of dreaming. Moreover, while almost unnoticeable, the tiny details of static sounds are a constant reminder that the images in dreams can be purely fantastical. And then, the despairing guitar line in the long outro builds towards a resolution that never arrives, as the track is abruptly cut off, transitioning into the next song. This abrupt ending could mirror the sudden shifts and unresolved stories that occur within dreams, because unfortunately, we all have to wake up eventually and face what we have lost. Next, “TILL THE MORNING” reinforces the record’s theme of anguished dreaming. The light synths and distant layered vocals are reminiscent of a half-forgotten nightmare. shuichi addresses his lover as if there were a real confrontation, but everything feels like a hazy memory due to the ambient and lingering layered and sampled sounds of audio recordings. The distant voice recordings are a desperate attempt to hold onto a fading, or faded, connection as if sanity is lost. The last tracks mark a shift towards a more meditative and romantic atmosphere. In “KEN’S TRACK,” unintelligible, dialogue snippets from a chillingly cold female voice, presumably his lover, against a lone piano melody evoke deeper sentimentality. This melancholic mood is continued with the seamless transition into the final song, “ILY,” which blends the dream pop, sound collage, and ambient elements that capture the feeling of bittersweet longing that define the EP. The lyrics express love for the other but also sound like a desperate plea to be loved back or be loved back again… It is a fitting conclusion that reflects the difficulty of letting go. “YEAR OF THE RABBIT” might feel slow and melancholic to some, but the thematic unity and sonically cohesive soundscape elevate the record into a work of artistic merit, where vulnerabilities are explored in a linear narrative. The rabbit signifies vulnerability, and the record is for those seeking a deeply personal and introspective experience, an invitation to confront vulnerabilities and find solace in the catharsis of emotions. It is the year to be vulnerable, as shuichi’s music isn’t just a listening experience; it’s a journey through a whispered conversation with the ghosts of love and loss that linger in the dreamscape of memory. Support the art & the artist:

EP REVIEW: Salem and the Stellar Cats – “Salem!” 

Written by Jayne Caray Between shouting nyan’s and near-death experiences, what else can you possibly expect from a cat band? Well, after more than a year of anticipating drops; first with the release of “Reflections after Salem”, followed by “Ate Memy’s Halal Patir” and “Smores”, Pasig’s Salem and the Stellar Cats are finally out of the bag to show you just what they’re capable of with the release of their debut ep, “Salem!”.  At its heart, “Salem!” centers on the retelling of songwriter and vocalist Yones’ vibrant life experiences sung in an uncomplicated yet authentic way that would make anti-folk artists of the 2000s proud.  Starting off with a snappy droning guitar in “Ate Memy’s Halal Patir”, the band immediately flaunts their kittenish, tongue-in-cheek qualities. Guitarists Vlad and Kiyan’s easily memorable punk riffs serve to retain the high energy of the next song, “C5”. Here, the tight rumblings of Emman’s drums mimic the busy streets of the famed road as the lyrics, quite literally, meows about an unpleasant experience Yones has encountered in which she fears for her life.  The EP takes a swift left turn in the second half as it slows down yet arguably features the better and more sentimental tracks of the entire release. “Reflections After Salem” brings a sober introspection on life without Salem. The charmingly quirky instrumentals build up to a Wes Anderson-esque mood while the vocals recall Salem’s precious moments in a monologue buried deep within the production. It’s raw and genuine without brooding too much, mature in its own grieving way. Lastly, “Smores” wraps up the ep with a somber tone. Backed with gorgeous acoustic guitars and single melody synths, its sonically one-note nature only adds to the gut-wrenching and vulnerable musings of an owner missing their feline companion. The track is sentimental and hopeful, strangely evoking the feeling of a peaceful sleep after crying your eyes out.  Equally humorous and melancholic, SATSC may have started as the “neophyte gimmick band”, but their wholehearted passion and sheer dedication to the craft have certainly propelled them forward to the next stage. DIY-ing music from scraps of fur, bedroom pop tunes, and personal anecdotes, “Salem!” marks a promising start for a group of cat lovers who breathe just to create.  Support the art & the artist:

EP REVIEW: Jikamarie – L0VER G!RL

Written by Elijah P. Jikamarie’s career in the music industry has reached another landmark. Ever since releasing a stellar debut single “Lutang” causing the internet to go head over heels during the lockdown. This immediately positions herself as a must-see act live, especially when Jika and company have opened for arena pop legends Coldplay for two-days straight. She’s also rolled out several singles that either shout the color green or show off the saucy, rhythmically rich vocal chops – it’s safe to say that it’s high time to release a full length release. But before that, “L0VER G!RL” has emerged from her arsenal. The release sounds and looks like a taste test. But the training wheels are off and it is time to showcase more of her genuine artistic side. For over the past 3 years, Jikamarie did what she could to make it to the top of the r&b food chain, emerging talents like Illest Morena, Denise Julia and Jason Dhakal all have their fair share of grace and fanbase. However, Jikamarie does it with a musical oomph and visual aesthetic cherry picked like it was a careful K-Pop reveal calendar. At the pace of these single releases in the past year, there’s momentum to all of this like it was cinema; themes of yearning in a garden of eden-type setting, giant butterflies walking across a hypnotic graveyard, what have yous. “L0VER G!RL” in particular is a debut that any r&b head wouldn’t miss. Or so they thought they would.  “L0VER G1RL” starts off at a strong note with “gusto kita”, the vocal performance having its backseat. However, the following track “HINAHANAP-HANAP” was startling with its mixing inconsistency. This, in a way, slightly ruins the listening experience. Like a sore thumb sticking out of its colorful production – that’s trap-laden and dancehall inspired – tailored for Jika’s vocal finesse. At first, this was a listening experience error that would be easily brushed off by the casual listener, but this inconsistency has repeated twice by the back half of the EP, most noticeable in “lito” and “bawi na lang sa next life”.  Whether or not this volume level clipping was intentional, it was hard to dismiss the talent Jika showed in this EP. It was less on experimentation and letting loose but it was more of reveling in the art of pop songwriting; the trap drums, the smooth, airy synths, and the tastefully harmonized vocals. Surely, the fundamentals were in full display but filler was sitting pretty in the midst of its soaring momentum. “L0VER G!RL” had its highs such as “DKSI” and “HINAHANAP-HANAP”, surprisingly zero lows, but the EP as a whole has its noticeably average writing loophole. There’s ease to her runs and curls but it’s hard to mask it all up when the structure has no strong staying power. It’s easy to escape the notion of being a lazy songwriter, but it’s troubling to go beyond being an afterthought, all the more a forgettable r&b musician in this day and age. And like all pop music, “L0VER G!RL” is best enjoyed in bite-sized pieces.  Support the art & the artist: