Written by Faye Allego Once known as No Lore (and no, not because they lacked one), members and visual artists Tita Halaman, Kim Escalona, and Carole Lantican begun crafting their audio framework that gained recognition for entry at the 36th AWIT awards and then reintroduced themselves as NEW LORE in late 2024 where they amped up their vibrancy and utilised every facet of multimedia to showcase their art — especially upon the release of their debut album, Grief Cake. In their latest 2026 single, “Substack Girl,” the tools to a catchy post-breakup song are definitely there; the muffled instrumentals in the first twelve seconds immediately place the listener into a flashback-esque soundscape and looming afterthoughts during the “scheming” period of a breakup. However, lyrics that circle around that question of “do you still…?” land steep, surface-level, and flat. The song fixates on specific habits that have even been harmfully labelled as “performative” such as going to gigs, reading obscure literature, digging through ukayans; “And are you still A gig goer? Art fair lover? Film enjoyer? Thrift store lover Vinyl seeker? Poetry reader? Soul Admirer Joybaiter?” it begs the question: is this just a checklist of interests turned into buzzwords? Though it’s light-hearted, it’s also reductionist toward real parts of someone’s identity. To reiterate, sonically, the track does almost everything right. It is indeed catchy, cleanly mastered, and even performs well in relaxing. To add, listening to this track in low-stress environments is surely fun and enjoyable; it can even be what’s now called reaching a “flow state.” Even the music video for “Substack Girl” is quite mellow. It’s the three-piece switching seats for the duration of the track, symbolizing the tranquillity found in the curiosity that the lyrics attempt to highlight. Of course, people wonder about their exes even through a rose-colored lens or through vibrant colors similar to that of PVC film– the song is very real when it comes to breakup talk, as the listener, it prompts wandering and questioning whether or not an ex thinks about their former lover… but at the same time, as the colors mix and turn grey after a few rounds of listening to the track… does it matter if an ex is thinking about us while reading poetry or flipping through vinyl? “Substack Girl” is a feel-good track, and New Lore’s discography is certainly one to keep an eye out for. Though they are not the first to utilize the commodification of personality and art to garner interest, they should refrain from that notion if they want to maintain relevance; like breakups, negative attitudes towards identity must learn to eventually fade away. Perhaps New Lore has breakup songs mastered– may they view introspection through art more in depth next time. Support the art and the artist:
Tag: Indie Pop
SOUNDS OF THE SEA: Soft Things (Myanmar)
Within the largest city of Myanmar, Yangon, lie small yet meaningful bands like Soft Things, who are waving the flag towards the dream pop and shoegaze flourishes that echo across the city. Formed back in 2023, this tight-knit band is composed of guitarists Kaung Khant Htun and Nyi Ye Htut, bassist Kaung SI Thu, drummer Thu Ta Aung, and vocalist Thet Htar Zin. Young fledglings finding their groove within the yearning spirit of the sounds they’re pulling from. They sparked a flash last year with their debut EP, ‘Warm Blue Sea,’ a stirring wave of dream pop that washes over. It acts as a starting point that defines their spirit, a characteristic best represented on the first track of the song, ‘Asleep, Awake’. Punchy drums and serene pedal effects reinforce the tension that Thet writes on record. Looking into a lilting love that is either fleeting or everlasting. This overall spirit carries through from song to song. ‘Zoo’ very much casts a lot of Cocteau Twins’ soundscape, especially how the guitars phase out in the mix alongside Thet’s vocal backdrops scattering all over the song. ‘I am not the one for you’ tests out its writing intrigues, letting glossy keys cascade over the protagonist’s affections with the women he’s loved in the past. The closer track, ‘Cherry Cola,’ delves into synthpop bits as buzzing synth pads trickle all over the song. It recalls and reflects upon the saccharine moments that can end up so bitter, like an unforgettable aftertaste Of course, as heard through Thet’s delivery, the brute forces his vocal limits to a flinching degree on ‘I Remember You’, they wear their passion in their sleeves and embrace all its ups and downs as much as possible. Soft Things know that the world is in a rough shape at the moment, so they may as well hold onto those soft moments from the very beginning, and let it glow as they continue their path, charging their spirits to a much tender future.
EP REVIEW: Fleeca Atmos – Keepin’ Up
Written by Adrian Jade Francisco Reuben Gonzales’ debut project ‘Keepin’ Up’ arrives somewhere between vintage pop nostalgia and the blow-burn sprawl of post-rock. A long-held memory, suspended in a grain of film—pale, worn, and hazy, where Fleeca Atmos invites you to step out of the noise of the present. Throughout the EP, analog textures, guitars, and synths conjure the ghost of a sun-faded era of pop. Rather than settling for mere retro-worship, Fleeca Atmos pulls at the edge of the sound—widening the frame to let the production breathe. The opening track, “Delorean Drives by the Old Compound,” is a poignant exploration of grief that manifests as a literal desire to outrun the clock, a fantasy of driving back to “Fairview” to bargain for what was lost. ‘Keepin’ Up’ finds its resolution in “Hermeto Hum,” after isolation through the descriptions of ‘life in space’ in “Moon’s Dust.” By going through the past, the void, and the present, the EP goes full circle, where Fleeca Atmos once begged to ‘change time’ to avoid pain, he realizes the only path he has is to change himself (“If I can change then I am free”). Gonzales writes in fragments and images, using repeated lines to act as emotional landmarks rather than a straightforward narrative. Ultimately, ‘Keepin Up’ functions as a sonic exhaling of the soul. Fleeca Atmos has crafted a debut that is both an ending and arrival. The EP proves that while we cannot drive back to the memories we’ve lost, we can find a profound, sun-drenched freedom in finally choosing to move forward. SUPPORT THE ART & THE ARTIST:
TRACK REVIEW: Asian Panganay – Disconnection Notice
Written by JK Caray Asian Panganay’s debut single, ‘Disconnection Notice, ‘ talks about Filipino family dynamics in an intimate, sobering way, centering on the panganay’s perspectives. As their band name suggests, Asian Panganay is an all-asian, all-Panganay, all-girls quintet. This common attribute allows them to have the personal edge that pops out of their debut single. Right off the bat, ‘Disconnection Notice’ starts strong and hollow, even vacant, though not in a bad way. A drum beat dragging itself on and simple riffs being fed through delay pedals give a sense of motion without the drive that actually brings it to life. This gives the song more dimensions in how it tackles the subject matter. The line “I don’t have anything to say/You never hear me anyway” distills all those years of neglect, accompanied by vocals that draw the line between ache and exhaustion. In a way, it acts as a parallel to the times when eldest daughters are expected to keep carrying on, even as fatigue eats them inside. For such a bold entry, the song has already generated a brand that audiences can look forward to. This can either be a pro or a con, depending on whether the band leans into it or decides to switch it up for their upcoming releases. For now, releasing ‘Disconnection Notice’ as their debut single was a necessary move to solidify the band’s striking presence in the current scene. Now that they’ve given a voice to the unheard heroes of a Filipino family, where will Asian Panganay steer the ship next? SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST:
ALBUM REVIEW: Darla Biana – Iridescent
Written by Noelle Alarcon House music is always a danceable delight; an air of familiarity is constantly present in the candy-colored soundscapes. It just invites your body to move and let the bouncing vibrations thud through your veins and lead you to the dance floor. A rapid attack on all your senses at once, the genre is a vessel for enthusiasm, accented by the occasional syncopated beats and punchy synths. Darla Biana’s debut passion project, ‘Iridescent,’ flickers between the realm of house and the adjacent classifications its wide panorama encompasses; described as the artist’s challenge to herself, created in just three months, it’s an ambitious, headfirst dive into the creativity a deck and a few beats can afford. There’s a template to the genre Biana pursues throughout the album, which makes her vision easy to audibly sketch out–like the minutiae pleasures of driving across cubed, 3D streets in video games from the early aughts or even the trance-inducing techno horns that are emitted from the complex insides of holographic CDs. ‘Iridescent’ is frank and straight to the point, with Biana’s invitations for romance coated in the relaxed lilt of her voice. The record doesn’t need a million ways, nor words, to express self-confidence and infatuation; Biana merely uses the music to punctuate what she means and to begin her sentences. In “Love You Down,” she says it like she means it–she will love you down. Plain and simple. The relaxed harmonies that follow the utterance of her promise and the four-on-the-floor beats are enough signs of the commitment she offers to the table. In accordance with commitment, it’s praiseworthy to note this album’s commitment to pushing Biana’s incredibly specific vibe. There are two interludes in its 33-minute runtime: “Make You Mine,” an appetizing opening that kicks off the album with hypnotizing vocals and pulsing D&B percussion, and “One Day,” a similar, 58-second break that signifies the transition of the album’s subject matter from falling in love to being in love with yourself. For a debut project, ‘Iridescent’ is like a designer’s first sketch that’s come to life–a piece that knows which elements to take from the avant-garde, and what its limitations can bring to life instead of restricting. However, there are instances when the production overpowers Biana’s vocal color, leaving her vocals floating, wandering across the track instead of becoming one with the music. There’s an admirable devotion to staying musically cohesive, yet it could have touched on the adjacent possibilities of exploring dance aside from sticking to similar beats. You can never go wrong with the glitzy, bouncy glamour of house–it just so happens that as versatile as the genre is, it’s also one that needs to embrace its malleability and constantly be kept up with. Darla Biana shows in her debut that she can–she just needs that extra boost, that liveliness brought upon by variety to continue. ‘Iridescent’ is house, definitely–but it’s a “house” that’s a little more lived in, a bunch of tracks to dance in your bedroom to. Support the art and the artist:
EP REVIEW: Cream Flower – Orbital Wound
Written by Faye Allego There’s a certain adrenaline rush that emanates from the psyche whenever one is en route; it’s a rush that can capture anxiety, urgency, or even the sense of ‘gigil.’ Cream Flower’s ‘Orbital Wound’ EP is exactly what should be queued during moments of movement, whether it’s commuting, traveling, or simply walking down a footbridge. On their third EP release, Celina Viray and Jam Lasin step into a wider sonic terrain, loosening their grip on shoegaze familiarity to explore something louder, stranger, and more expansive. They blend riot grrrl rage with explosive urban paranoia, crafting songs that feel perpetually in motion and perfectly suited for city wandering. Even amid the chaos and noise, the duo injects an unexpected motif: if a stray cat crosses your path, this EP insists you bring it to the vet. The first three tracks form ‘Orbital Wound’’s most immediate stretch, buoyed by an upbeat momentum and Viray’s vocal effects that sound like it’s being broadcast through an airport PA system. “Cat Distribution System” and “Fever Dream” have a distant, metallic, and half-instructional tinge to them. The choice of turning the voice into the form of a public announcement rather than a private confession shows a sense of urgency that isn’t found in the typical dreampop soliloquy. The sense of radio transmission becomes even sharper on the second track, “Dahas,” where radio static and intergalactic textures are lured in, giving the impression that the band is trying to communicate across impossible distances. The song is displayed like a broadcast meant for extraterrestrials, only to reveal itself as a message addressed directly to us as the listener. The lyrics cut through the noise to confront the realities, inconsistencies, and outright outlandish absurdities of the Philippine zeitgeist under the government’s rule. It initially sounds alien, but the repetitions gradually sound something more familiar: uncomfortable truths hidden within signal distortion. Chillingly, the EP turns subtle and dreamy with its fourth track, “Orbs.” There, Viray and Lasin introduce acoustics that were absent from the beginning tracks, and lyrically, they tap into more introspective lyrics. In “Orbs”, Viray warps time and perspective as she describes being “engulfed in a fever dream.” The lyrics suggest a fractured sense of self, as if the speaker is watching their own thoughts from a distance and turning into never-before-seen shapes and geometric patterns. What’s interesting is that the last track of the album, “A Violent Cry”, beheads all forms of stillness from the previous track, and the listener is put right back in that state of adrenaline that was introduced in “Cat Distribution System”. It’s loud in every sense of the word, but not flashy or indulgent, where it becomes an earache. By the time the EP moves beyond its opening run, it’s clear that ‘Orbital Wound’ is both an experiment in sounds and a tool in communication through noise, humor, and paranoia. The urge of wanting to hear more after the last track is ever-present, but in the meantime, aggressively slamming the repeat button will suffice. Support the art and the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: aunt robert – Goodbyes Forever
Written by Rory Marshall The mind can get so jumbled up that even our own thoughts can be unintelligible to us. What we’re left with is a confusing cacophony of emotion and dissonant ideas, but somehow, aunt robert was able to take theirs and masterfully craft it into music in their new indietronica / indie pop hybrid album ‘Goodbyes Forever.’ We’ve seen EPs and singles from them over the years, but this is their first full-length album. ‘Goodbyes Forever’ takes a brave leap into vulnerability, budging open doors to the mind usually kept shut in order to cope with overwhelming feelings. Spanning across 10 tracks, each song delves deep into specific yet relatable emotions. From isolation and pining, to girlhood and resentment towards a past lover, each song dedicates itself to these specific feelings. It comes across that the album is a hodgepodge of different sentiments, but how better would it be to describe the chaos that the mind can be sometimes? The theme of mishmashed emotions is also mirrored through the selection of musical genres present in the album. aunt robert has taken this as an opportunity to diversify their sound, branching out to different genres to better illustrate their songs’ message while still holding on to the indie-rock style that fans fell in love with in the first place. This can be seen as early as the first track of the project, “Frount Robert” an upbeat, poptechno-esque track tinged with longing. It’s their classic aunt robert sound accompanied by synths and vocal effects. The album progresses smoothly, with the next couple of tracks leaning towards indie-rock, including the tracks “Mad” and “Please Say It” which were released as singles last year and have now found a home in the album. It’s such a cohesive arrangement of songs that when the album takes a stylistic turn in “Keepsake”, you realize you’re already at the midpoint of the album. With “Keepsake”, the band slows down the pace of the album and takes on a more intimate, reminiscent approach. Utilising an acoustic and atmospheric sound, aunt robert looks back on a past relationship with its promises unkept and answers to questions left unsaid, all the while still wishing them the best. It’s a beautiful, succinct track that deserves to be highlighted. The second half of the album showcases the experimentation that aunt robert endeavored, with most of the tracks leaning heavily towards that poptechno tinge we’ve seen in the opening track. The drum machines and synths create such a vibrant atmosphere. The production on these tracks proves to be excellent – they have a lot of elements mashed up with each other without sounding busy. It’s discordant in the most lovely way. As seen in tracks like “Blue” and “I’ll Go Wherever You Wanna Go”. As the album comes to a close, it ends with a hopeful note in “Hoarse (I’ll Get up Like I Always Do)”. The song devolves into high gain crunch towards the end with aunt robert’s voice ringing throughout the breakdown singing the lyrics like “I’ll get up like I always do” and “And I care like I always do. Nothing bad but it’s nothing new” It’s reminiscent of the consoling we sometimes do to ourselves in times of distress, reminding ourselves that we are capable of getting back up no matter what tries to convince us otherwise. ‘Goodbyes Forever’ is an apt name for the album. The whole project was a way to say the unsaid to whoever needed to hear it, so all that’s left is to bid farewell. Its closure and catharsis spread across 10 songs. aunt robert has done these genres before in smaller projects, but in ‘Goodbyes Forever,’ it seems they really dug their nails into it and honed their unique sound, making us excited to see how they develop their arsenal of styles in the future. SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST: goodbyes forever by aunt robert
EP REVIEW: Unflirt – Fleeting
Written by Louis Pelingen The story of how Unflirt, the stage name of Christine Senorin, started is pinpointed within the universal isolation of the lockdown. With her guitar in hand, she eventually proceeded to write and sing down her thoughts. Moments of flickering romance are contained within her 2023 EPs, ‘Bitter Sweet’ and ‘April’s Nectar’, which reflect Unlfirt’s sonic identity: cozy folk acoustics and shimmering indie pop that nestle around her girlish coos, with enough melodic sharpness to lend her presence some weight and tact. Despite solidifying that she is still warming up, there is potency to be located in those EPs. ‘Fleeting’ is yet another step to Unflirt’s growing aptitude as a musician. Written during her time spent in parts of London, LA, and Brazil, there is a maturity that she has undergone through her writing. Her reflection not only comes through in dealing with a long-distance relationship, but also in processing time and distance itself. Something that she now values even further in her life, grasping its ever-changing flow and factoring that in how she writes. The yearning she carries from past EPs is still retained, but she now considers the sifting presence of time passing by on her mind. In terms of overall compositions, there is also some progress in finding polish and expansion, adding more atmospheric and instrumental detail that, for the most part, flatter Unflirt’s soft vocals well. “Sea Song” carries some of that bedroom pop sheen, with textured programmed drums complementing some sharper guitars. “Sweet Sweet Time” and “Something Familiar” are lilting as it is tasteful, with the former’s pulpy grooves amid gentle strums and the latter’s string accents weaving around folksy effervescence. “Next To You” is a welcome addition to Unflirt, this blistering pop-rock tune that could have been made back in the late ’90s, all brimming with glimmering melodies backed by riffs that flare and echo throughout the song. However, just like with those past EPs, Unflirt is still in a position where she is continuing to find her own space amidst the frankly prevalent array of pop acts that are following adjacent soft, hushed vocal styles and glossy pop-rock tones. There may be forward motion in her writing and refinement in production this time around, but she is still finding her own groove amidst the overall sound. Trying to grip the wheel and see where she can steer with full confidence. ‘Fleeting’ is an apt title for the current state that Unflirt is configuring. An acknowledgement of time and distance that affects parts of her life, where she is now trying to move forward and consciously consider how they will change her wholeheartedly. Yet it is also a reflection of the songs that, at best, Unflirt have shown more promise and end up sticking, and, at worst, become too familiar and pass by. Support the art and the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: NEW LORE – grief cake
Written by Gabriel Bagahansol In late 2024, the band formerly known as No Lore released its final single under that name: a cover of Callalily’s 2006 classic “Magbalik” transformed into epic synthpop. Towards the end of the track, we hear frontwoman Tita Halaman deliver a rap verse on letting go of a troubled past and moving forward, adding an element of progression to a song of someone hopelessly saving what’s left of a dysfunctional relationship. By this point, No Lore was at a crossroads. Their music seemed tangled between the band’s roots as a guitar-based indiepop duo—and the organic but staid identity that comes with it—and a whole new lineup as a trio moving towards something else. With new creative impulses that appear to be at odds with the limiting nature of the band’s origins, letting go was something Tita Halaman, along with new members Kim and Carole, needed to do in order for them to fully embrace the ethos they now want to embody in their art. With a crashing crescendo that petered out into synth tones and beeps, No Lore was no more. Eight months later, after subsequently re-emerging as the electropop band NEW LORE, the three-piece would release their debut album ‘grief cake.’ Now operating from a clean slate, the members of NEW LORE paint glossy electropop soundscapes across this new batch of songs. The bright synths and saturated textures illuminate Tita Halaman’s straightforward and dynamic lyricism on navigating adulthood and its many tricks while drawing strength from the sincerity and frankness of one’s inner child. If the “Magbalik” cover was the death and burial of something that had run its course, the opening track “OH MATURITY” is the first step in rebuilding oneself. Free from the limited palette No Lore’s artistic identity afforded, the music bursts with a renewed sense of energy, as though a floodgate had been opened for a creative catharsis that is heard all throughout the album. That’s not to say there aren’t any growing pains, though: while Tita Halaman is eager to reflect on her past and become more optimistic and self-aware in her relationships, in the chorus, she laments the slow pace of these changes. On the breezy synthpop track “LOVING, HURTING,” Tita Halaman acknowledges that love can last in the belief that people can move past the mistakes they’ll inevitably make to each other. With the sound of a band that has immediately succeeded in working with their new sound, these two songs are a welcome introduction into the world of NEW LORE. NEW LORE’s embrace of electropop means they can now let the music add dimension to the stories they tell. On “DIRTY” and “GOODSIDES,” a pair of songs that tell contrasting views on trust and acceptance, the instrumentation is clear, dynamic, and colorful. This new approach helps us get a glimpse inside Tita Halaman’s mind as she tells these tales, particularly on “GOODSIDES,” where sweeping synths swell over an R&B beat that intensifies her wail of disappointment over someone she thought she knew well. Another example of the chemistry of words and sound that NEW LORE successfully blends throughout this album is “TRAFFIC,” where minor and major keys weave together as Tita Halaman sings about dancing to the radio with a lover while stuck in a traffic jam. Meanwhile, on the album highlight “WHO HURT U,” Tita Halaman’s words for an adversary are complemented by a dance punk groove that gives the song power, urgency, and fun. If the previous track sought an escape from lethargy, this one is the gas pedal push that’ll help you face your toughest moments headfirst with a sneering brave face. But the thread of life’s dualities continues to run through the album, and it culminates on the title track and album closer “GRIEF CAKE.” Here, Tita Halaman weeps for the end of a relationship she had fought so hard to keep alive. After trying to seek maturity, and now having gone through a bitter split, Tita Halaman has come to the realization that she is “just a kid,” making this one-half of a pair of songs — with the same key and tempo and all — that bookend this album. With ‘grief cake,’ the members of NEW LORE have given a nuanced take on growing into the many sides of adulthood, leaving no definitive answers when it comes to dealing with negativity, and instead calling on you to just have fun and never hold yourself back. It just makes sense why this album is named that way, and it also makes sense why the serious, sedate stylings of No Lore had to be forsaken for the urgent burst of freedom in NEW LORE. In early 2025, the band unveiled their new identity with “AMBITIOUS,” later the penultimate track on this album. It was the right way to kick off NEW LORE’s new story: its lyrics about shifting into new and exciting shapes, with an optimism punctuated by a sunny synthwave beat, is the ethos with which this remarkable re-debut was successfully built on. Reinvention shouldn’t have to come at the expense of your whimsy. In fact, it may just be the very thing that’ll get you there. SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST:
EP REVIEW: Megumi Acorda – Sun Blanket
Written by Noelle Alarcon Dream pop quintet Megumi Acorda has come a long way since their debut EP ‘Unexpectedly,’ released in 2018. Said EP turned the five-piece into one of the most quintessential introductions to the local underground, best known for their ability to capture the sound of heartbreak and longing. This time, with the launch of their latest EP ‘Sun Blanket,’ Megumi Acorda is still the face of the enigmatic ache that comes with yearning, just with the warmth of the sun possessing each track now. It’s evident in the way they changed up the pangs of their hazy, jangle pop-influenced releases with grittier, power pop-derived riffs and more beats per minute than usual. Megumi Acorda’s use of guitars is known for its capability to audibly spell out what it means to pine; to set your heart on someone (or something). The signature fuzziness of their riffs is often praised thanks to the complexities of sound the pedals are able to concoct. There’s a richness in their instrumentals, humming low and fully, that vibrates at the same frequency as the listener’s deep-seated, unspoken feelings. The band is able to shine on such feelings with their light, pulling you out of the darkness. In this EP, the strings don’t drive for the entirety of the songs; they’re happy to be along for the ride. Albeit the simplicity, the licks are just as impressive and catchy as heard in the energetic opening of “Task Kitty (Save Me)” and the jumpy drag along the frets that beep around in “YRU.” Sporadic poppiness aside, when the tempo slows down, the classic Megumi Acorda sound is more apparent. The tracks teeter along a journey of acceptance and fulfillment; the rhythm section and the occasional flourishes that accompany it are telling points of inflection. There are drum fills and basslines bouncier and more jittery than you’d expect from Megumi Acorda, like the bright icebreaker for “Soft Pins.” When it comes to songwriting, the band never disappoints, always so open and overflowing with raw emotion. “Copeland Heights” is a track more aligned with what people are usually more familiar with when it comes to the quintet. Acorda’s soft spoken vocals float along the track, enunciating the desire to endlessly soak in someone’s warmth. “‘Cause I’m scared of the days I’ll face without you / What a gift to have basked in your sun.” Putting ‘Sun Blanket’ next to the rest of the band’s discography, there’s quite a noticeable contrast when you compare it with their other music–but it’s a delightful step into a new direction, laden with optimism for what’s to come. When Megumi Acorda cast their net far and wide, they caught sentimental, audible treasure, turned golden by the sun. SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST: Sun Blanket by Megumi Acorda