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:
Tag: EP Review
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:
EP REVIEW: vice* – syzygy
Written by Elijah P. Electronic artist and singer-songwriter vice* laces together the heartaches of emo-rap and the intricacies of glitch pop into a neatly tied debut EP. In a world where the Lil Peeps and Wicca Phase Spring Eternals have shifted into heavier and denser material, there exists a younger and fresh breed of producers hopping on the stepping stones of the aforementioned artists, and vice* is one of those fresh artists alley-ooping themselves to the grander playing field. In debut EP “syzygy”, the 6-track project constantly builds a world of its own; it finds itself deconstructed, intentionally self-destructing and implodes everywhere. But the end result is it finds a place to fall sprucely. The possibilities of this project falling under banal, predictable pacing and lyrics are slim. There’s potent pop writing to be found in “syzygy”; In “hit me!”, trance and math-rock chords find themselves in constant harmony with each other while “takeUdown” forces the shattering, glitchy, frying pan percussions to shine among the poppy hooks. “inner me” showcases a more straightforward, lesser noise in the forefront but capitalizing on melodic writing at the combat zone. If you think about it carefully, for the project to escape the monotony of emo-rap and its cliches, vice* opens a new window of possibility in terms of blending emotive vocals through explosive, maximalist production. vice* can range from distressing to level-headed delivery, the production does most of the talking. Prancing past the familiarity of what emo-pop and emo-rap did during the mid 2010s Soundcloud explosion, vice* knows how to structure a full-length release from its hyper highs to its emotionally-charged tamer back half. The first half of the project has found its comfort zone, linking together genre labels and ultimately liquifying those same labels, forging into something groundbreaking in the end. From front to back, vice* has a unit behind him that’s supported him from the very start, eventually creating a sonically rich project that can possibly stand the test of time. With vice* being in the 2020s, there’s a balance in the world of experimental pop and hip-hop. SUPPORT THE ART & THE ARTIST:
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:
EP REVIEW: MAKI – TANONG
Written by Elijah P. Tarsier Records’ Maki ticks a lot of boxes for the casual pop r&b stan. Think of Jonas Brothers adopting Zack Tabudlo’s falsettos and the result of that amalgamation is the young singer-songwriter himself. After earning a fair amount of virality throughout Spotify playlists and movie soundtracks earlier in the year, the young up-and-comer has a lot of things to unpack and undoing in his debut EP titled “Tanong” – a 5-track exercise of questions that’s hellbent on asking the true meaning of love. Quite cheesy and cliche on paper. However, from the actual listening perspective of it, the EP is actually cut from the same cloth as his contemporaries – painfully similar yet eerily mimicking those who came before him. The EP opens with an intro titled “Sigurado?” – welcoming the listeners with a question albeit a weird fade out that interrupts the immersive listening experience. One thing that listeners should absolutely question is the mere fact why the intro is even necessary to begin with. Moving along to the flow of the EP are one-dimensional tracks: the viral hit “Saan?”, “Bakit?” and “Kailan?”. If the listeners would tell from the bright production, “childlike” and playful songwriting and neverending falsettos, they wouldn’t tell the difference of how easily distinguishable this sound palette is in the year 2023. Even if you pale this to Zack Tabudlo in comparison, you would go as far as calling them blood brothers of genericness at this point. There’s not even a single lick of difference or variety listening to “TANONG” due to the fact that Maki does not even dare to go outside of the box in this release. Although, there are commendable production choices such as the punchy, upbeat “Saan?”, but that’s about it when it comes to highlights more than there are lowlights, some parts of the EP might as well be called “midlights” just because they are substandard, mediocre and borderline background music for a normal Baguio trip. Support the art & the artist:
EP REVIEW: Precal Dropouts – Little One, Travel Far
Written By Elijah P. Davao City’s Precal Dropouts are easy to spot in the current crop of local shoegaze, dream pop and post-punk revival bands. You have guitarists Josh and Jan Mark and bassist Ben going back and forth in scorching riffages and swells higher than the altitude of a souvlaki space station. In their debut EP “Little One, Travel Far”, the three-track project feels less of an overdue and more of an arrival right on time in the shoegaze-dreampop canon. Their sensibilities can go beyond the gazing distortion and winding chords; there are prog influences here and cohesion there. Precal Dropouts might as well become the unit that’s become new-fashioned and refreshing among their scene contemporaries. The result of “Little One, Travel Far” and its intended songwriting are ripe enough to achieve the level of ambition as far as shoegaze/dreampop goes; Josh’s wave-causing riffages are enough to combat John Mark and Ben’s driving instrumentals. There’s actual synergy happening behind the noise and we’re here for all of it. The aughts post-punk influenced title track is a sonic introductory to the band: fast, interlocking fuzz and distortions and reverberated yet not overbearing vocals. “Stay…It’s Eventide” hangs on tight with its buildup ready to bust down some soundproof walls. The last and centerpiece of the entire EP “There & Back Again” are filled with guitar solos after the other, sprinkling the track with colorful arpeggios and impressive technical skill displayed by its beautifully arranged rhythm section. It’s safe to say that there aren’t any hiccups and overlapping melodies that ruin any of the noise, it’s as straightforward as any shoegaze record in the 2020s could get; Genuine friendship can make up the best product of art, but Josh, Jan Mark and Ben are the best of friends even if the pedals are off in “Little One, Travel Far”. Support the art & the artist:
EP REVIEW: Mei Teves – /’hidn/
Written by Elijah P. Catanduanes is a scenic town, full of vibrant shorelines, tranquil surroundings, and peaceful towns. You have natural talents coming from the small towns and cities, like in Virac – a 76,000+ population where they’ve had a history with several datus and colonized areas, giving the island character besides its idyllic beaches. However, there’s a sense of vibrance provided by their own homegrown talent, Mei Teves. By way of San Juan, Teves brands themselves as a simple school student, waiting for the campus crush to arrive before the bell rings and the human psyche brought by the pressure of their current upbringing. As makata pop takes a step back from the meantime, Teves relishes in the spectacle of storytelling flipping the script by deepening the narrative-driven singing. There’s a sense of wonder when you look closely at Teves’ songwriting, especially when you take a look at their Wishcovery performances, they’ve dug deep below the surface to explore darker themes, establishing themselves as one of the songwriters to look out for post-lockdown. Teves’ debut EP “/’hidn/” capitalizes on that spectacle of storytelling sung in intimate acoustic guitar, except they’re more optimistic, surprisingly lighter than their previous material showcased in Wish 107.5. This is a far cry from the yawps, from the theatricality that is “Sino Ang Baliw” or the cry-for-help intimacy of “Pakialam”. Instead, we got bossa nova influences of “Wala Lang” or the easygoing folk-pop of “Pangalan” and the ecstatic, grandiose “Senpai, Notice Me” – the last track that acted as a bonus track for how alienating it is for their audience to hear Teves’ channel their anime simpery. “/’hidn/” is a light exercise to Teves’ songwriting chops, whether or not they could shy away from the usual, heavier themes that are displayed in the Wish 107.5 performances, but this is the complete opposite of what the others wanted, the EP is a result of an artist playing-it-safe. A Happy Meal in the middle of an apocalypse; The wildcard seemingly giving their 100% but the sonic palette feels lacking; There’s a lightness to the bite that Teves used to bring to the table, especially when the EP drags midway, there’s little to no specialty besides Teves’ impressive voice twirling across the strings. Overall, “/’hidn/” might be Teves’ foray into different adjacent genres or soundscapes they want to travel to, but instead, we got something else entirely and the result was middle on the ground all the way. Nothing special as the EP ends. SUPPORT THE ART & THE ARTIST: