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:
Tag: grunge
TRACK REVIEW: sister christine – driver’s license
Written by Jax Figarola “driver’s license” by sister christine immerses their audience in a sonic landscape that draws inspiration from iconic shoegaze bands like quannnic, Whirr, flyingfish, and my bloody valentine. However, the song combines the elements of grunge and shoegaze, capturing the essence of dark liminal spaces through its use of distant ethereal vocals, buried drums, distorted and heavy guitar riffs, and fuzzy textures that scratch the brain. The track opens with solitary guitar riffs that echo only through the left stereo, which set the stage for a long, dragging intro that lasts for half a minute before the opening verse comes. The murky and noisy atmosphere, achieved through the use of pedal-infused guitars and the deliberate use of distorted overlapping vocals, paradoxically instills a sense of calmness. The lyrics, nearly drowned by the loudness of the instruments, contribute to a sense of blasé sentiment towards the whole composition. However, and a big however, the emotive and distorted voice during the chorus is easily discernible, evoking emotions of hopelessness and entrapment in a dysfunctional relationship–a cycle of intoxicating pain. In short, while the established soundsphere of the instruments crafts a sense of deliriium, it is the vocals that stand out as the track’s most compelling element. Turning attention to the song’s discovery, it’s noteworthy that TikTok played a huge role. The cylical nature of attention in the age dominated by doomscrolling and an algorithm that often steers depressed people towards depressive content, the track resonates with TikTok users seeking relatable melancholic content. In a curated display of seemingly “liminal space” images, sister christine strategically utilizes the platform to promote their song by posting repetitive TikToks in a standardized format, featuring text like “pov: you found an underrated artist to obsess over” set against images, in a slideshow, of dark, eerie liminal spaces that invoke both familiarity and discomfort. Therefore, the intention of the artist feels like it plays a pivotal role in their success. If their intention is to seek attention, as the song suggests, then repetitive posts of the same script hoping to blow up is an impressive metaphor, similarly how Mallbangs’ “Gutter” was popularized through edits of the game Silent Hill or how Aphex Twin’s “Pulsewidth” had a resurgence in popularity due to slideshows of Y2K images. However, attributing sister christine’s success solely to TikTok strategies would be unfair. The artist adeptly leverages TikTok culture to create an easily streamable audio, tapping into the platform’s teen shoegaze and indie fans. Despite lacking a distinctly Filipino touch, the intense and obscure sound of “driver’s license” remains an impressive addition to the shoegaze genre. This doesn’t imply a requirement for the song to be in a Philippine language; rather, it just seems somewhat foreign, resembling international shoegaze acts like sister christine’s inspirations. Wrapping up with an air of mystery, the confusing title (at least, for me) of “driver’s license” remains an elusive riddle. The title makes no sense, inviting listeners to ponder its meaning even after the music has concluded. Support the art & the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: SUYEN – Sonic Tonic
Written by Elijah P. Suyen Pintor and the gang have performed unreleased tracks all around the Metro. After so long and so many online demos here and there, the time has come for her to release a recording of what has been the most lauded track in her arsenal. Being the most anticipated “it girl” in the underground, she means serious business. Mixed and mastered by ONE CLICK STRAIGHT’s Sam Marquez, the production quality is on an even playing field that compliments the right amount of angst Suyen wants to display in the track; From the chugging pre-chorus to the signature vocal delivery, you’d wonder how SUYEN perfectly represents absolute femme rage, all the while being the antithesis of pop rock locally. Her music is an undeniable imprint of grunge in the landscape of happy-kumbaya culture. Her debut single is long overdue, but not to the point that the track itself has overstayed its welcome. “Sonic Tonic” sounds just like the title: gratifying, ripping and full of adrenaline. While “Sonic Tonic” is a blistering heat wave of 90’s riotgrrl energy and grunge worship, everything in between just evens out. As the track pierces every single wall of noise and shatters all frequency, what you have left in the writing is humanity wanting to shout in angst. This is the rock music everyone wants to hear. Suyen has arrived. SUPPORT THE ART & THE ARTIST:
DEMO REVIEW: cheeky things – demo
In the local DIY community today, Metro Manila outfit cheeky things arrived in the first quarter of 2023. Their URL story started with a Soundcloud page – a lone Duster parody – and a couple of noise pop covers. The five-piece follows suit to the IRL, championing a tweemo backdrop with the help of their indie guitar heroes in live shows. And for a band that has been teasing their WIPs ever since the release of their little “demo” two months ago — by the way, a Bicol tour is already set in stone at this point — one would expect at this stage that a full-on record should be ripe for the picking. But hey, we now have a three-track demo, and it is packed to the brim with loud, grungy guitars, high-tempo drums, and the dreamy sensibilities that are commonplace in any track. But while this project certainly has all the makings of an EP, it is still a personal dilemma to me whether or not to make heads or tails of it as it is — a demo — and base my judgment of it on what it is, what it could be, or what it could have been. For the uninitiated, this demo is a gateway. The seemingly compact demo is a sonically massive 3-track project to look out for. It is raw, absolutely balls-to-the-walls, and unapologetically alternative. I would even be remiss not to mention how the oversaturation of the shoegaze-twee-alt-rock fusion bands writ large has made it all the more difficult for cheeky Things to come through as their own, but the result of which made the success of this release all the more commendable, and eventually carved a niche that is proudly one of their own. For the listeners who have listened to their plethora of influences and sensibilities, fans of the garage sound are in for a treat: tracks like “korean blackout curtains 7ft (1 pc, not set)”, a noise-rock anthem that has cemented its place as a favorite amongst the Manila alternative crowd, is Mellon Collie down to a T, and has a phenomenal intro that will transport you back to a time when you first listened to Psycho Candy. The song’s outing also meant the first for the band to incorporate Tagalog in their lyrics, making it an easy sell for many. While “smashing” on the other hand, while not as talked about, features some of the best dynamics between each member. Whatever your thoughts on this release, this cheeky Things demo serves as a litmus test for both the artist and the listener. In its current state, whether finished or unfinished, you either get it or you don’t. And even if you do, there’s still a lot to unpack in its heavily loaded arsenal; it does not hinder itself from pushing the noise level past its threshold. And who knows, maybe we have not seen the last of these songs and if we’ll still be as (un)accepting of them as they are now once we’ve witnessed them in their final form. But enough speculation. As far as I’m concerned, I passed the litmus test. Support the art & the artist: