Written by JK Caray Starting out by covering beloved City pop tracks, Manila-based singer-songwriter Paprikka releases her debut track “Itataya” as the next step to the career she’s been building. In a burst of creative inspiration, Paprikka decides to gamble to make it big—and sure enough, she hits it on her first try. From the get-go, Paprikka’s determined to make the city pop genre her own. Belting in straight Filipino, she channels that ‘kikay’ attitude of the Manila sound—think the whimsical, carefree fun in Rachel Alejandro’s Mr. Kupido and you get the gist. Her performance on the track playfully tethers between a cheerful schoolgirl on a first date and yearning alongside a high school crush. It’s warm and fuzzy, charming, and corny yet you giggle every time the memory crosses your mind. Overall, “Itataya” shows a lot of promise for Paprikka’s career, signifying she has an ear for producing memorable hits. At times, however, it becomes too similar to the whistles of the Japanese City pop tune, down to its clichéd bass groove and bells. As common as this pitfall may be for anyone starting in the genre, there’s no doubt that she’ll cultivate her style along the way if she truly wants to reinvent the genre. In the meantime, “Itataya” is a gamble worth taking if it leads to being a one-of-a-kind pop star like Paprikka. SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST:
Tag: Indie Pop
ALBUM REVIEW: SOS – It Was A Moment
Written by Gabriel Bagahansol Starting off your band’s much-awaited sophomore album with lines like “I wrote some lyrics but it’s ten years later / I’m always worried that I’m past my prime” is a ballsy move when it’s been eight years since your first. Even more so when you’ve added these lines to a song you’ve been playing for more than a decade. A close up of the artwork for 2017’s Whatever That Was flickers on an old TV in a sunlit living room, as though that period in the band’s career were glory days they can only reminisce about. You could be forgiven for thinking SOS is staging a farewell, but this is the façade of nostalgia and reflection they have formed over their brand new album It Was A Moment, and that includes the opening track “Amore”, which finally saw completion after being a long-beloved live number by fans of the band. One listen and you can see why people have been clamoring for this for years: an energetic jangle bounces off from everyone in the band, amping things up with a rousing chorus that just makes you want to dance. All of that is very much intact here in the definitive version of “Amore,” except the uptight, aggressive iteration once heard at Route 196 and beyond is nowhere to be seen. Roberto Seña, along with fellow guitarist Andrew Panopio, has seemingly traded his fuzzbox for cleaner tones, has given the song a carefree environment to live in, and not only did the two of them make space for an acoustic guitar, apparently, there’s a synthesizer now? Outside of its nostalgia-tinged cover art, there’s hardly a trace of the band’s distant past in It Was A Moment. For the last eight years, many things have happened within the SOS camp. They did side projects outside the realm of rock n’ roll. They opened a recording studio above the sandy shores of Elyu. They even signed a brand new record deal, on James Reid’s Careless Music label, of all places. Somewhere in the middle of it all, after more than a decade of playing the same old song, they finally decided to fuck with the formula. 2020’s The Other Side saw SOS dabble with disco beats, synth layers, and a softer approach to their music. While a cynic can dismiss the EP as a mere experiment at a time where their guitar-based alt-rock would’ve felt out of place, it was otherwise a necessary shakeup in their musical palette. And now, with the addition of keyboardist Ram Alonzo into the lineup, SOS has turned the cozy, colorful landscape of The Other Side from a brief excursion to the first phase of an artistic evolution. You can hear them take the next few steps into this path on songs like “Roses”, a respectable synthwave track about trying not to ruin a new love affair, and “I’m Kidding,” an anthemic exercise in irony with a sing-along chorus about bottling yourself up and never saying what you really feel. After these two songs is the pensive elegy to lost youth that is “It’s History”, which also affirms you, the listener, that in spite of your failures, all of that is in the past and that you’re more than just your shortcomings. While these three songs showcase Seña’s eloquent way with words and imagery, musically, something is amiss. Despite superb performances by the band, held together by Anjo Silvoza’s melodic bass lines and drummer King Puentespina’s steady but dynamic drumming, these are moments in which SOS seem like they aren’t willing to change up their sound much. They feel more like a compromise between slightly less jagged guitars and marginally pop keys, ultimately stalling the record after the shot of adrenaline that is “Amore”. Where SOS really shines in this record is when they fully commit to challenging their artistic identity. A hi-hat-heavy drum machine and a floaty synth line welcome listeners to the smooth R&B number “French Exit”. Seña sounds so seductive and self-assured as he sings about a casual love affair and how he’ll leave a lover before they even know it, a far cry from the jittery expressions of 2017’s “Favoritism”. Meanwhile, on “Money,” a rigid but groovy electro-funk beat coexists with frustrations toward someone else’s attitude towards money, especially when Seña talks about the frustrations of being a musician in today’s economy. While the song is sullied a bit by his overzealous vocals, it offers an otherwise noteworthy insight on being a struggling artist today. These two songs highlight SOS’ potential in holding their own across other genres, reaping the rewards of their expeditions outside the band’s walls. The back half of It Was A Moment, then, is further proof of how far SOS can break the lyrical and sonic barriers that have been placed against them. For one, “Please Lang” and “Seryoso,” the band’s first Filipino songs, show Seña successfully making his ramblings shine in our own language, his acerbic tongue more potent than ever as the Taglish words help him convey the strongest emotions in the simplest of words. Meanwhile, the remaining three songs give us a vision of what a fully-electronic SOS could sound like. Two of these, “Yumi & The Apocalypse” and “Love Kept Us Warm,” show two sides of a doomed relationship: wistful hopelessness faces off against cautious optimism in an atmosphere of sparkling keys, unrelenting drum patterns, irresistible chord progressions, and even a fadeout that’s delightfully-’80s. The title track that closes the album sees the band complete their transformation from guitar heroes to electro-pop stars through a moody number on the end of a relationship that should’ve been taken seriously. Regret permeates the song’s sparse instrumentation that recreates the lightheaded feeling of being alone with one too many drinks, the bridge even introducing chopped-up vocal samples straight out of mid-2010s Tumblr. However, it feels as though there’s more to this than meets the eye, with all the talk about phases and the references
TRACK REVIEW: sumther – forget
Written by Elijah P. sumther’s latest track “forget” sounds like the best kind of house party—the one that spills from a cramped Tomas Morato club into school hallways and basketball courts, chasing sunrise with reckless abandon. Known for his intimate plugg experiments, the artist sheds his bedroom producer skin here, embracing a bigger, brasher sound that crackles with the energy of someone discovering their voice at just the right moment. Where his earlier Soundcloud loosies reveled in microgenre nuances, “forget” plays like a manifesto. sumther was trading pluggnb’s melancholy for a swaggering, synth-drenched anthem about moving on (but only after one last dance). The genius lies in its duality: it’s a breakup song disguised as a party starter, with lyrics that sting even as the 808s and the piano lines dare you not to move. The production expands his world beyond sub-bass corners. Snares and synths ricochet like sneakers on gym floors, melodies shimmer like spilled vodka under strobe lights, and sumther’s delivery—part-sung, part-rapped—carries the giddy exhaustion of someone who’s stayed up too late feeling everything at once. It’s a coming-of-age moment bottled in two-and-a-half minutes: proof that his knack for earworm hooks (that chorus lingers like next-day confetti in your hair) could propel him from niche favorite to undeniable mainstay. If this is sumther unchained, imagine what’s next. SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST:
ALBUM REVIEW: Kremesoda – For Years
Written by JK Caray Sunday morning radios. Long car rides. Drifting in and out of a dream. There is a certain common feeling that arises among the three, a feeling so fleeting that a word has yet to be made to name it. It’s a moment that occurs whenever drowsiness masks a profound sobriety. Kremesoda, a Metro Manila-based 5 member band, defies it all and effortlessly expresses these complex sensibilities in their much-awaited debut album, “For Years”. The album consists of eight tracks and is a vibrant roulette of different sounds and styles, with some alluding back to the act’s past releases. “FOMO,” for example, reminisces their City Pop roots within the framework of a mellowed-out and hazy memory, while “Fleeting” features catchy 8-bit melodies alongside tight, upbeat drums. It’s that moment when you groggily wake up early from the blaring alarm sound, desperately trying to recall the dream you were having just a few minutes ago. The third track, “Far-fetched” borrows a few twangy guitar elements from Surf Rock and infuses it seamlessly with their mellow Indie tune. Meanwhile, midway through the release involves an interconnection of themes between “City doesn’t love you” and “Terminal”. In “City doesn’t love you”, the band calls back to their first single release “City Lovin” but this time, the vibe is completely different — tender yet harsh, its indulgent riffs paired with spiteful lyrics. “Terminal” quickly picks up these embittered feelings with more of a cynical attitude, deeply affected and aching to hurt back. The title track standout, “For Years,” provides a break from all the antagonism and goes back to the melancholic side of the release found in the earlier parts of the album, capturing the feeling of driving out to the countryside while hopelessly pining, patiently waiting around for something that was never meant to be. Ultimately, the final track “The Door” presents two options: to get out or to stay in. Opting to stay, the track reinstates the themes of longing and desperation found within the entire release. “For Years” is a long time coming project. After Kremesoda’s first single back in 2017, the band has been steadily releasing singles and garnering attention from the music scene. In 2020 however, the band abruptly seemed to disappear. Now, after four years of inactivity, “For Years” serves as a triumphant comeback to remind us that Kremesoda still stands as a force to be reckoned with. After all, the quintet has been here for a long time — they have gone through multiple eras, they have seen the ever-changing landscape of the underground OPM scene and they have performed in some now-defunct venues, but even after all that, “For Years” is shaping up to be their most substantial release as of yet. “For Years” carries a tone that signifies maturity in their artistry and the sonic cohesion they’ve been chasing for a long time. Along their journey, they’ve picked up bits and pieces, creating a decoupage of all the things that they encountered. Finally, after years of exploration, they come out emerging on the other side with a distinct tune that’s hard to put into words — one that is uniquely theirs, uniquely ‘Kremesoda’. SUPPORT THE ART & THE ARTIST:
TRACK REVIEW: Wuji Wuji – Careless
Written by Jayne Caray Despite ending the past year with close to no media presence and zero hints of a release, Wuji Wuji ends it with a surprise announcement; 2024 was not for naught after all, the sextet was busy doing something else, something new. In a Facebook post made 4 days before 2025, the band teases their single called “Careless” from their upcoming release “NOVISION”. Now, the question is, how much difference did one year make? Right off the bat, the latest track signals a stylistic departure from their former releases. Wuji Wuji initially spent 2023 exploring and experimenting with multiple genres. The band initially got recognition as a City Pop act inspired from retro Japanese aesthetics; ranging from the 80’s fluorescent green-tinted street style to the 2000’s old school Hip-Hop. In “Careless”, the band retains a few of these elements, but musically, they have become quite unrecognizable. The Disco and Hip Hop influences from “NOSOUL” are missing as we see the band donning new sonic textures denser and more mature than their previous tracks. The bassline along with the heavy-hitting drums set a slow burn that drones out throughout the entire song. Engulfed in its misery, the vocals drown yet echo a haunting loneliness that resembles aching from the Slow Rock bands of decades past. The single stands as one of the more somber tracks in Wuji Wuji’s discography, a possible indication of the foreign yet intriguing path to be taken by the upcoming EP. It makes one wonder why Wuji Wuji switched up again all of a sudden. Was it a new persona to add? A new direction for the band? Going into the track, “Careless” was initially confusing. The band has changed musical styles throughout the years, making their discography as colorful as ever and so, with 2023’s “Kanluran”, you would expect them to lean heavily into their City Pop roots. As much as this was not the case, the latest single has proved itself worthy of being taken seriously. The dedication and amount of effort the band has poured into their new sound is evident within the single. Wuji Wuji has made it clear that they’re not just messing around and that ending up with a year of inactivity is just the consequence of doing so. Although “Careless” was far from being expected, it still wound up as an endearing change to their discography. Support the art and the artist:
TRACK Review: Mellow Fellow – Heaven
Written by Noelle Alarcon In this world, heaven is considered as the be-all, end-all of life’s course. Anything else euphoria-inducing that comes close is the nearest you’ll get to arriving at the cosmological paradise. For indie pop act Mellow Fellow, who emerged from Muntinlupa and is currently located in Canada, the agency to choose yourself is his equivalent of the bliss achieved beyond the stars. True to his name, “Heaven” opens with a mellow assortment of instruments smoothly cascading into his smooth vocals. The keyboard and the guitars twinkle along the periphery. They form the core of his trademark sound, reminiscent of the motifs that defined bedroom pop during the 2010s. The rhythm section doesn’t take a back seat, either. The thick strings of the bass dance to the variations of open-handed drumming, making the symphony full and whole. It creates an environment conducive enough to let his truth bloom across rich textures, intensified by titillating synths and alternating beats. “Heaven” is light and airy, with fierce proclamations adding a little kick to the artist’s signature cool. It propels you into the clouds through the unapologetic honesty its confessions spell out. It’s a reflection of the arduous journey to corporeal nirvana, aurally fleshed out in the highs and lows between the verses and choruses. This is Mellow Fellow’s invitation for you to ascend with him into liberation, through dropping the burdens of life that no longer serve you.
ALBUM REVIEW: Cinéma Lumière – Wishing It Was Sunday
Written by Faye Allego Wishing It Was Sunday is not only an impressive debut album; it is a cohesive album that explores the coming of age, but not in a deep, intricate, or deleterious way. Cinema Lumiere, derived from the Lumiere brothers whom of which invented cinematography, stay true to their band name– they create cinematic music that assimilates the true essence of the Slice of Life idiom. When listening to this record in one sitting, you’re guaranteed to feel some ear tingles every time a xylophone is used in a track. It’s a record that you can listen to at any time of day, whether you’re sitting in a library and cannot be arsed to create a study playlist, or when you’ve finally succumbed to your main character syndrome and all that’s missing now is your very own OST. The theme of coming of age along with melodies that sound very Slice of Life are most prominent in tracks like “Longing For You” and the first track which shares the same title as the album. Tracks like “Like A Dream,” “Into The Sun,” and “Act Happy” also seem to follow inspiration from Japanese dream pop where airy vocals mixed with stretched-out, lushful synths create an atmosphere similar to the 80s music scene. It is also worth noting that the terrific album art is an illustration that takes place in Japan; you can see a young adult holding a Japanese Koinobori Kites that are typically brought outside during the months of April and May (spring), symbolizing and representing children, childhood, and childlike ambition or perseverance. On the first listen, I questioned if Wishing It Was Sunday was the type of album that you play in the background to muffle the silence in your surroundings. Looking at Cinema Lumiere’s only existing music video on YouTube, I wanted to see the visuals of the tunes that they make. Could “Change of Heart” have a Wong Kar Wai-inspired music video made on an old digicam? Or is it up to me, the listener, to decide what visuals I want to associate this album with? I asked myself: do your conversations with friends overpower the music? Or does this album make you want to stop and just listen? After a few adventures outside with only this album on the loop, I think the latter question is the easiest to answer. Yes, I want to stop, close my eyes, and listen. Support the art & the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: Shan Capri – Past Flight
Written by Aly Maaño You may not know it yet, but Shan Capri might just be your next favorite alt/pop artist. Despite being new in the music scene, this artist isn’t afraid to push sonic boundaries by producing songs that reflect her eclectic taste. With her new single “PAST FLIGHT,” Shan lets us feel the rush and exhilarating feeling of meeting someone—an instant connection, a tender but fleeting desire. Drifting away from her soulful sound, Shan takes a deliberate turn to produce catchy hooks and melodies with a rich, flirtatious bass woven into her dreamy, sensual vocals. “PAST FLIGHT” begins like a summer adventure with its zappy riffs gearing into a playful chorus with an intimate delivery. It’s intuitive in its attempt to be soft but also impulsive. The song possesses a certain tenderness and vulnerability but is also effortless in being sexy. It’s short like most pop songs but just as it ends, you’ll want to impulsively hit play again. Support the art & the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: Memory Drawers – Memory Drawers
Written by Faye Allego Picture this: It’s 2014, your entire personality is based on photos of succulents with a VSCO app filter that is reblogged on your Tumblr page, a poster of Unknown Pleasures hanging by a thread (in this case, tape that has lost its purpose of sticking on the wall above your bed), and your element of mystique is buried with every emotion that bedroom music playlist makes you feel. Although the pleasure of being an angsty, indie-music-centered-teenager back then is a well-known phenomenon, Memory Drawers seems to bring back that unique feeling of individuality and whimsicality in their long-awaited debut album. It goes without saying that this album perfectly fits in the dreamscape milieu of Indie Pop. The lyrics, composed by Kevin Ingco and Paula Castillo, read like a prologue to a retrospective novel about one’s memories of youth that were never to be just written in a diary tucked away in a drawer. Found in the final couplet of Lovingly, Andrea Alegre sings: “Didn’t think, didn’t think I’d hear a word/ Said ‘There’s nothing left for me, in this world, in this world.” This alone uses repetition in a way that isn’t – for lack of a better word – repetitive to hear. This track along with others such as Luuv and Esc Esc Esc feels like changing the color of my laptop’s cursor to black and opening a blank document to write whatever I want at the expense of depression and for the sake of expression. However, I find myself asking if every track creates cohesion to the album and builds an overall narrative, or if it is just a polished compilation of their past, tempting the listener for upcoming endeavors that may sound even better in that said dreamscape milieu. Nearly a decade has passed by since Hart found its way as the first track of Memory Drawers. The original version first appeared on SoundCloud and was later revamped to fit the precision found in Ingco’s mixing, and the mastering by Diego Mapa. The same can be said for the following track, Maybe, originally released in 2016. I hesitated at the thought of these songs resurrecting on the debut album instead of leaving them as hidden gems to be found on their own. The last track, …For Any Of This, was also previously released as a single but now acts as a beautiful epilogue through its upbeat nature that makes you feel like you’re knee-deep into the night; as if Ingco and Castillo along with Alegre’s voice planted a Whomping Willow that would later produce seeds for a mystifying glowing Willow throughout all these years (not to mention the album art looks like a tree’s growth rings). This is the “upcoming endeavor” I mentioned earlier. Indeed, I yearn to hear more.
ALBUM REVIEW: The Purest Blue – All is True
Written by Louis Pelingen The past we have left behind manifests through still memories that have comforted us through the paths of growing up. The small bike that was used to roam around the neighborhood, the color blue that reminds us of comfort puffing in the skies, the dollhouse that embraces the imagination of a child, and the gentle warmth that gathers when we see our parents and loved ones in front of us. And even when those moments pass through us, it doesn’t mean that there is no opportunity to find comfort in them when we do get older. For Pauline Rana and her musical project The Purest Blue, that sentiment is a truth that we need to remind ourselves all the time. In the aptly titled debut project, ‘All is True’, the smallest and tightest of packages bring a lot to the table. There is a lot of tenderness and sweetness on this very record, where the production from both Pauline Rana and Sobs & Subsonic Eye member Jared Lim allows a lot of the instrumental textures to be crisp and splashy, allowing the melodies to glisten and soar, and make that return of past memories with a deeper appreciation from our present selves to really hit home. The glinting waves of synths that opens up ‘Stationary Bike’ as it sweeps through the bustling acoustics and Pauline’s cooing vocals is quite the breezy ride to start the record, which then proceeds to simmering shoegaze on ‘Blackie’ with the crystalline hiss from the guitars, the percussive breakbeats of ‘The Truth is Blue’ and ‘Carnation Pink’ that gives a lot of energy from the buzzy synth, organ keys, and lo-fi acoustic run of the former track and the sunny pop tune of the latter track, the undulating atmospherics of ‘Small House’ with the layers of melodies brushing up to the end, and the rather straightforward dream-pop soundscape of ‘Tenderness and Purity’ with the driving bass lines, soothing vocal melodies, and shuffling drums just before the soundscape breathes and moves close to the front of the mix. The only hiccup this record has is the synthetic warble of ‘That’s Us’, where even if it does fit with what the song is going for due to the swaying details of time, the synthetic vocal production doesn’t really mesh that well with the dreamy melodies and instrumentation. While this record takes that saccharine quality burst for the bright moments to shine, it doesn’t shy away from going through the grief that Pauline feels as she returns back to those memories, especially the ones that involve her past self and her father. She rolls through that grief on ‘Blackie’ and ‘The Truth is Blue’, where despite trying to find a sense of comfort on the opening track, she finds herself feeling a sting thinking through the loss she felt from past memories, overall making her feel blue, a color signified for sadness and loneliness. But that color also stands for comfort as well. In ‘Small House’ and onwards, those memories of the people and pets that she really missed from her childhood are still there with her, teaching her how to love herself and find the comfort she needs in her present self. To realize that what we feel like is missing is there somewhere in past memories, acting as truths that validate a positivity that we have to keep on providing not just to ourselves, but to everyone that we always meet and interact with. Overall, ‘All is True’ is a reflective record where the splashy quality not only resides with the colorful production and melodies from Pauline Rana and Jared Lim on the array of prismatic dream pop, alternative pop, and shoegaze, but also with the sense of finding one’s own joy from returning to the transitory space of memories even if having to find that joy also means simmering through the sadness that shakes us before. If you ever find yourself feeling like something is amiss within yourself, don’t be afraid to open the door of a past space, you might find the truth you’ll need to move forward. Support the art & the artist: