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:
Tag: EP Review
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:
EP REVIEW: Polyphonic Vision – Sudden Pictures
Written by Louis Pelingen The past 2 decades have seen a growing interest in artists using mostly instrumental motifs to archive downtime and the events that emerge in them. Strains of ambient music have touched upon these musings for quite some time now, but the emergence of certain electronic subgenres has done much more to delve deeper into this. Subgenres such as vaporwave and drone have explored musings of time, memory, and stasis of eras that have been forgotten and are clearing up the lens to find some appreciation for those stagnant, vintage stages of time. ‘That, alongside ambient music in the 2010s, has seen an emphasis on those concepts of time and decay, bringing along slowed-down samples, droning yet hypnotic melodies, and elongated track times to tell what needs to be said. It’s important to take note of these as they have been accompanied by the concept of liminal space and its own visual fragments of abandoned or even empty landscapes of places that all of us have commonly visited. It’s no wonder that the time of pure isolation brought about by COVID-19 in 2020 has elevated the concept of liminal space to the forefront, both in aesthetic and musical components. I bring all this up due to the fascinating debut EP from Polyphonic Vision, a synth-wave project from one-half of the dream pop duo Outerhope, Micaela Benedicto, as well as the mastermind of Big Hat Gang, Mario Consunji. The project came up during the isolation in the pandemic, the outputs now come out in a spontaneous burst, where the sonic snippets are pieced together during 2020 and 2021 and ready to be released for this year. ‘Sudden Pictures’ encaptures a holistic display of the past and the future in a time where the reflection of what was done before and what may happen after is now stuck in place. It’s an auditory mood board that wobbles through retro analog synthesizers, ethereal vocal recordings, and a soundscape that slowly modulates that relaxed yet contemplative mood for the entirety of its 22-minute runtime. It’s one whole trip to a fragmented memoir of memories, starting and ending off with instrumental murals like ‘Zoetrope’ and ‘Tides’, where the former track documents its purpose with its tapping fuzz of the percussion, the alluring echoing vocals, and the calming synth progressions, and the latter track tying things together with the layers of sweet analog synths that float amidst the stuttering percussion and cracking effects that entail the disintegration of those memories in the EP. Then there are the other tracks that frame its musings of memory with dreamy scopes. Starting from ‘Hemispheres’ with its pictures of cities and natural sceneries as Micaela’s shimmering vocals elicit the moments fading away from what she has seen and heard from those sceneries. It’s quite the dreamy song, with all of the cascading synth chimes balanced out with the whirring low-end and tapping drum patterns creating a relaxing mood. ‘Sudden Pictures’ focuses on the memories of someone that the protagonist still keeps, like a reel of film that pops out whenever they see them somewhere else either at close or far distances. That observation comes through with the cushions of gloss around the vocals and the background synths, accompanied by the layers of the quicker drum loops and deeper synth textures. ‘Submarine’ submerges itself into a slice of new wave, all with punchy percussive textures, blurry yet watery synth progressions, and levitating vocal melodies. Despite its watery imagery, it’s essentially an ode to the underground club scene and all the memories that we made and the people that we all meet there. It essentially archives what we have universally felt during the pandemic, reminiscing old memories, confronting past inner demons, as well as missing a sense of self as our social hubs have puffed for a while. However, with how the EP was made during the pandemic which is reflected even further in writing, the EP manages to hit an intriguing roadblock that has to do with oddly enough, timing. It’s a roadblock that specific instrumental projects like these have stumbled upon especially when they are also inspired by the thorns brought by the pandemic. Because as much as they have well communicated the fragments of memory through the ethereal, stabilized rhythms of the synths and vocal weariness, how it is going to age well in time and find resonance is a subjective and tangled discussion at best. Personally, it feels like a message that may possibly have been a lot more resonant if it was released during the isolation stages of the past two years. Because now that things are opening up and the lyricism focuses deeply towards reflections of memory and loneliness, it feels like a message that is sent two years late where with everything starting to open up, it personally makes the message feel less potent than it should be. It does not mean the EP has faults whatsoever. The ethereal waves of synths and vocals are composed with enough stable rhythms and loops to anchor the shards of memory and reflection that we all went through for the past two years. However, the passage of time has its funny way of letting us know of changes that we went through and our resonance with material focused on a specific event that this EP will have to go through. Because with 2022 opening up its walls, I wonder if this composed mood devised by the duo may work its peak of resonance during the time of isolation. Either way, the memories that the EP has captured still hold weight in a time when all of us are confronted to flip through pages of our past and contemplate through what may happen in our future, it’s just that, that resonance will be tested as time moves on. Listen to the artist:
EP REVIEW: medyo maybe – Porcelain People
Written by Elijah P. The Ilocos Region can rock everyone’s socks off. Yes, you read that right. The north side has something to say after all. Where the inflections of Will Toledo and the Boss Metal Zone guitar pedals rise from the collective bedroom and slide down their local sand dunes. It comes as no surprise that talent can come anywhere, everywhere. Enter medyo maybe – a solo project whose emotive sharpness is trained in Bandcamp and Soundcloud demos years prior to their latest release – is the indie rock sonic provider from Pangasinan out of all places. The 4-track EP is more than just a taste test. It’s a welcome party of all things influential for the songwriter, a love letter of sorts that span across the decade of 2010s indie treasure trove of guitar solos, freakouts, and all things emotionally direct diaristic lyricism. medyo maybe is ready in “Porcelain People”; no signs of any grazing rust, it’s promising beyond whatever jagged quality it had as long as the songwriter and their lead instrument make a great pair; it’s already made evident on the get-go that medyo maybe and their guitar is a dynamic duo. Tracks like “Don’t Ignore The Blame (Old Something Dies Hard)” drive the rhythms at a thrilling pace, and “Noiseless Noise Machine” has traces of noisy rock with familiar lines that resemble “Julie Tearjerky” at first glance, but the project distorts the iconic guitar line further with repetitive lines in the hook, making it something entirely theirs in the process, “Breaking The Plates” has synthetic synths and their lead vocalist sing in harmony across layers of riffages. This is only the start for medyo maybe and they’re going somewhere. SUPPORT THE ART & THE ARTIST: