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:
Tag: EP Review
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:
EP REVIEW: SHNTI – ELMNT
Written by Louis Pelingen Ever since she started her career in 2019, LIAB Studios‘ very own SHNTI has been on her way to improving her skillset as a rapper and songwriter amidst her rise of success in subsequent years. Her laid-back delivery captures a sense of lowkey charm, a natural fit to her jumping points in lo-fi production that dips into jazz-rap soundscapes. Her melodic sensibilities are balanced out with loose flows, peppered with consistent rhyme schemes, flavorful wordplay, and honest writing that showcase the playfulness and introspection in the themes that are personal but are also resonant to a wider audience. These are the elements that she embraced ever since, and are working effectively well as she keeps on testing her limits as an artist. This year is a good year for her. Rerecording past songs from her increasing catalog is a sign of her growing confidence as a musician now showing through in spades. Additionally, provided that gigs are now available for face-to-face situations, it’s the right opportunity for SHNTI to put something out there, an anticipated debut project. And with ELMNT now released, it’s easy to say that the EP displays SHNTI’s artistic confidence in the best way imaginable. A collection of 6 tracks that nestles and branches out of SHNTI’s zone, embracing synth-inflected drum beats amidst lo-fi organic instrumentation that she smokes through effortlessly. Her signature relaxed vocals are prevalent, but they’re now oozing with an imposing attitude that was there before but is now refined, so far as standing out amidst the features in the EP. That attitude translates to her efforts as a songwriter, knitting together rhyme schemes and wordplay cohesively and attentively. In the 4 new tracks, SHNTI steps into the present, carrying an aura of confidence around her. “Bright” opens the EP with SHNTI shining through the airy synthscapes, additional backing and choir vocals, and pulsating grooves as she elevates herself and gives a middle finger on the past bonds that pulled her down. “ELMNT” lures you in as the addicting hook, snappy trap beats, and wobbly synth work are solid setups for SHNTI to just be in her element, allowing her slick flows along with clever wordplay to put her loose attitude to feel captivating, balancing out her garnered confidence with a self-aware discussion of fame and exhaustion. “Rhythm” displays her slickness into a flirty territory, her Doja Cat influence showing as she and Yorko’s playful and cheeky bars under punchy drums and pristine strings create a hazy and haughty seduction towards a woman that they’re into, a typically male-centric flirtatiousness that SHNTI steps into and makes it her own. And “YUH” featuring WAIIAN is the smokiest track on the record, reflecting upon their musicianship and how the criticism towards their work keeps them reaching for higher gains as their meandering flows slither around relaxed grooves and gloomy horn loops. While confident and strident, she looks back on 2 previously released tracks and polishes them to a new sheen, a reminder that she still puts introspection in the open. “Best Life” works through shuffling percussion aided by calming acoustic and bass guitar, allowing SHNTI’s laid-back flows to remind herself and everyone to not just live the best life, but put in the work to help other marginalized individuals have that same luxury. The EP eventually ends with “Could Be”, where the horn lines, textured percussion, and subtle bass, pianos, and strings swirl through SHNTI’s pensive musings of the realities of life. Realities that make her question existential thoughts, a question that she keeps repeating as the track glitches out, ending the EP abruptly. Personally, while it was an odd choice to put “Best Life” and “Could Be” on the tracklist at first more so based on worries that they might not fit in thematically and sonically. After a couple of listens later, however, they do deserve to be in this EP. Mostly because it reinforces the introspection that “ELMNT” and “YUH” provides, where “Best Life” sonically works as a cooldown before heading deep down into languid lo-fi jazz crannies of the last two tracks, and ‘Could Be’ acts as a great ending whose introspective questions linger past the EP, questions that may be answered sooner or later as SHNTI keeps on moving forward, as both an artist, and also as a human being. In short, I’ll admit that I’m trying to look so hard for any kind of nitpicks on this EP. But every time I look for anything to find flaws with, the elements in the varied instrumentation, balanced production, captivating performances and melodies, and deft writing just keeps snapping right back. And to quote SHNTI herself, she’s in her goddamn element, where the confidence that she built off for the past couple of years is paying off in great dividends. This is just her debut EP, and with the assured spirit that she has right now, I won’t be surprised if she keeps this streak up with a light that keeps on shining. Support the art & the artist:
EP REVIEW: Manic Mundane – Narrative Three
Written by Louis Pelingen I imagine that working on this EP has been the cathartic moment Manic Mundane needed. The stage name of Kath Dizon, she has been a musician for quite some time now, fronting a hardcore punk band during her college days in Iligan City, using the KTHDRLZ passion project during some time in the 2010s, as well as attending indietronica gigs during her stay in Dubai. But working as a PR executive during her 9-year stay in Dubai only exhausted her, deciding to return to her hometown in Mindanao in early 2020, where things get much worse with the start of the pandemic and her laptop that she used to produce music for five years eventually died out, leaving her with none of the drafts reserved for polish. But eventually, she has to start anew. And with Narrative Three, her debut EP as Manic Mundane – released under Melt Records – that fresh start is a relieving one. Right from the jump, the EP displays a set of tracks that are overflowing with colorful and layered instrumental textures courtesy of Sho Hiniko’s contribution to fleshing out the mixing of these tracks. Her vocals blend in with the sweeping synth-wave and electronica tracks, giving the soundscape its bombast with her upfront vocal tone. The EP has influences and similarities that make sense but also is surprising. Personally, there is a smattering of Let’s Eat Grandma and CHVRCHES from both the synth choices and the vocal tone that Manic Mundane uses, but her influences from Bjork and Grimes also make sense. The melodies don’t leap out immediately and take their time to get front and center. And when the melodies do flesh out and the cathartic lyrics bring out its impact, it really sticks with you. “Awake/Solitude” has this gothic tinge to the swarming synth patches that let itself push through along with the punchy drum loops and Manic Mundane’s gripping vocal melodies, effectively allowing the dire religious reflections to feel riveting. ‘Pavements’ immerses itself with splashes of reverberating synth work, pulsating percussion, soaring vocal melodies, and gleaming guitar chords from Mckie Alvarez of Filipino shoegaze band WYWY that lets loose for a blaring guitar solo that brings in all of the other elements to coalesce to a gratifying finish, mirroring the dramatic details of Manic Mundane’s decaying relationship with religion and the darkness that comes with it. “Spring Waves” ends the album in a positive light: the glittery synthesizers and thumping drums allow Manic Mundane’s uplifting vocals and lyrical details of love with dreamy affectations. While the production and the vocals are well done for the most part, there are times when the melodies just don’t have enough fullness to give their impact. “Astral Bodies” repeats its chorus like a mantra after the verse melodies, leaving the track underwhelming as it coasts through the glimmering instrumentation and lyrics of connection with a cosmic touch. While “Lover” with the shimmery synth textures and romantic refrains in the lyrics are pretty, the melodies themselves and the way they are structured make the flow of the song end up sloppy. There are aspects of the lyrics that feel quite dull and show Manic Mundane still growing as a songwriter. It does not mean it’s entirely bad, the religious and otherworldly details fit well when the instrumentation is this layered and the melodies give the themes of love and grappling against religion an immense impact. But the writing itself doesn’t find itself digging deeper into creative liberties, making the writing reliant on those religious, otherwordly aspects to stick. And if it’s not for those details, the writing could end up being uninteresting. But as a whole, Narrative Three is an EP where the catharsis can be found with flying colors where the instrumentation is full and textured, production that balances out all of its layered synth work, confident vocal performances from Manic Mundane, and strings of melodies that makes the extensive themes of love and religion to land effectively. But there are still flubs with the general writing of the lyrics as well as some songs where the melodies just don’t sweep the listener the way they should. Still, the best songs of the EP allow Manic Mundane’s ideas to leap away into something more, something where greatness will be found. Support the art & the artist:
EP REVIEW: Teleheart – Bubbles
Written by Elijah P. The earlier, more symphonic soundscapes — less punk-influenced era of shoegaze — are channeled through two highschool friends in this little EP titled “Bubbles”. The band Teleheart is a project made up of classmates hailing from Philippine Science High School – Central Luzon Campus, both members are home based in Bataan and Olongapo individually, whose identities are yet to be revealed as of this writing, are hands down of the most promising alternative bands to come out this year, albeit being more anonymous, may it be intentional or not. Their goal for this project is simple: To reach and help out to those who are in mental duress. The tracks vary from piano-backed instrumentals, wall-of-noise that’s layered on classical compositions, a choir of amplifiers, noise rock freakouts that drizzle the outro of the tracks, and many more. This isn’t just a love letter to the genre these kids are paying homage to, but its an entire 100+ page textbook about the great things shoegaze can do to youth culture. Although this project can be a lot more anglophile-influenced in terms of pedal selections only a couple of diehards can point out once it comes blasting through the speakers. There are a couple tracks worth revisiting: the splash of an intro of “How Was Your Day”, “Only Here / With Me” and its colossal textures and left-turn of a transition; “Bubbles” and its Thom Yorkian yawps that acts as a cathartic release to this sonic boom of an extended play. The project balances slow and steady crescendos and pushpit-inducing ditties that break 4 to 5 studio ceilings. It’s a good amount compared to a lot of standard alternative rock records that hold back more than they could push in the long run. For what it’s worth, a school project or not, Teleheart has a lot going if they keep at it once the scenesters take notice of these youngins. Support the art & the artist: https://teleheart.bandcamp.com/album/bubbles
EP REVIEW: As Silent As The Forest – Tranquility
Words by Elijah P. Founded in 2015, progressive rock-slash-math rock trio As Silent As The Forest have personalized their arsenal into something more vigorous compared to holding-hands-in-the-air, tree-hugging milquetoast math rock bands out there. For a band that’s premised behind tree stumps, inserting atmospheric passages about the wilderness and the likes, ASATH have more what others bargained for in their latest EP titled “Tranquility”. As the title suggests, there’s more to peaceful riffages and swells than most advocates assume. In tracks like “Young Blood”, the band embodies indiemo sentimentality all the while armoring themselves with heavier lead tunings, deeper bass lines and masterful drumwork. The kick-off track “Unsaid” and its opening lines imply a fearless attitude, far from standing beyond the precipice of math rock’s cliches. There’s an even balance of calls for mercy and emotive vocal deliveries, making it border between a post-hardcore and math rock project. Rarely a divisive choice of thematic sound can come across as consistent but ASATH have done it in a way where they’ve told a story while simultaneously packing a catchy chorus or two. However, in the grand scheme of things, “Tranquility” can become lopsided by its contrasting tracks and almost identical song structures. As much as there are odd timing and tunings made in the record, the record can quite become tedious in continuous listening sessions, that’s if the listener doesn’t pay too attention to its devilish and sonically inherited details. The title track attempted to deviate from the tracklisting before it by adding an intense double kick drum – which in retrospect barely acts as a motif that helps elevate the track’s themes. By the last track titled “Dark Days”, the EP has turned itself into a full on post-hardcore record with guitars tuned lower compared to other tracks. That is where the project starts to fall flat on its head. As Silent As The Forest’s first ever EP stands on its own, but it barely stands out as a one-of-a-kind record that defines the movement. “Tranquility” has some highs when they’re paid close attention. The project has its lows when listened to as a wholly math rock record. Support the art & the artist:
EP REVIEW: Tsuyunoshi – 2004
Written by Elijah P. Tsuyunoshi, a young up-and-coming contemporary pop and r&b act hailing somewhere in Southern Metro Manila made some noise on the Soundcloudsphere for releasing catchy-as-hell bops and frequently collaborating with producers and performers who specialize in playing around genres that involve heavy percussion and lighthearted Ne-Yo-esque production (may it be drum and bass, dubstep, or 00s r&b). ‘joshwa’ — a producer based in Seattle, by way of Honolulu, whose frequent collaborations with Tsuyunoshi earned both performer and producer their own respective spotlight in the international r&b and rap spotlight in the United States — assists their compadre carry the entirety of their debut full-length 2004 to the Discord music scene and the entire world. For the clueless reader still begging who in the world is Tsuyonoshi: Where does “2004” start? At what point in time does the album begin? The album’s main star kicks off the album with weepy lyrics and a whiny hook, both possessing catchy and chant-worthy moments wherein Tsu’s voice doesn’t reach to a point of overbearing; “astray” starts and finishes with joshwa’s guitar chords serenading the listener. Tsu continues to bob and weave joshwa’s playful production choices, injecting anthemic melodies per syllable, consistently driving the track forward even if the guests try to surpass each other. “sidetracked” — one of the album’s main highlights — Tsu battles with balancing the valuable love language of spending time, alongside the dense production that adopts a clunky style, a sound that’s matched with Tsu’s running thoughts as he sings the words out loud in panic mode. “twofaced” adds lush guitar picking, funky synths, and the occasional high notes; the climactic vocal registers is honestly a skill Tsu needs to be recognized more besides the celebratory whiny vocal style. Overall, the entire album runs in 17 mins and 7-tracks. From the get-go you would ask yourself whether or not the relatively short length constitutes an “album”; But by the end of the day, the quality of the music speaks for itself. Tsuyunoshi’s “2004” proves that their ideas aren’t restrained by the limited length. The ideas in question: back-to-back banger r&b vocal stylings amplified by genre-defying production, the soft-loud dynamic highlighted by its tireless performance, and Gen Z’s massive influence in combining vibrant sound choices in the fold. Support the art & the artist: