Written by Gabriel Bagahansol Love makes you look for extremes in the mundane. The moment you realize the person beside you is the one you want to be with for life, you will do anything and everything to make sure the rest of the world exists for just the two of you. Love is a delightfully selfish thing, and if it means gladly cutting people up to turn them into stew at a dinner for two, then so be it. fitterkarma starts off their latest single sounding like a quintessential OPM ballad band from the 2000s; the potent blend of acoustic guitars and powerful snare drums, along with such a forward, in-your-face vocal performance, captures the sentimentality still craved by all two decades on. It’s perfect. In fact, it’s a little too perfect. Give this song a different set of lyrics and this would’ve been a drop in a sea of other senti hits. But fitterkarma has chosen not to float gently over love’s comforting waves. Instead, they’re diving down a trench, going against deep-sea pressure to explore something more overwhelming within the dark depths of love’s waters. Consider the idea of sharing blood-drenched kisses after a night of devouring tons of unsuspecting people. Death and destruction invoke euphoria, fueling a utopian paradise that washes away each other’s sorrows. You wouldn’t need drugs for that: that’ll get you in trouble anyway. These unhinged desires are the heart and soul of “Pag-Ibig ay Kanibalismo II”. Beneath the comfort of the music is a captivating void willing you to feed into the most morbid of romantic impulses; from sharing warm adobo made with love and somebody’s heart, to letting each other’s blood become one through the lips. These images, and the musical performance that carry them, form an irresistibly gory metaphor for love. fitterkarma’s embrace of folk horror to define romance is a stunning defiance over the usual idea that purity in love is only clean. After all, one of the strongest expressions of love is the unconditional acceptance of the one in front of you. And sometimes, that means consuming each other and shutting down all there is around you until all that is left is a quiet, tranquil bliss. Support the Art and the Artist:
Tag: Indie Rock
TRACK REVIEW: Chinese Garden – In Hiding
Written by Elijah P. There is something spellbinding about Chinese Garden’s debut single, “In Hiding.” From the first note, the track pulls you into a world that’s haunting and hypnotic. The lead vocalist’s longing, almost yodeling runs are the centerpiece, weaving through a sonic landscape that feels both intimate and expansive. Twisted electronic textures flicker in the distance, while sparse, echoing instruments create a sense of unease. Meanwhile, the loud, fuzzy guitar in the foreground anchors the track, giving it a visceral edge. The band’s mellow arrangements and poetic syntax feel tailor-made for the yearning hearts and restless souls of “In Hiding.” The production teeters on the edge of collapse, like a glitching computer on the verge of melting—yet it never loses its grip. Instead, it adds a layer of unpredictability that makes “In Hiding” all the more compelling. Bright, shimmering guitar tones cut through the haze while the delays stretch into infinity, creating a dreamlike atmosphere that’s hard to shake off. “In Hiding” speaks a language that resonates with dive bar scenesters and acoustic purists who’ve embraced the digital age. It’s a track that defies easy categorization, drawing comparisons to Phoebe Bridgers and Snail Mail but ultimately carving out a sound entirely its own. By the time the song ends, it’s clear that Chinese Garden isn’t just another band in the indie crop—they’re a unique force that’s unafraid to blur the lines either from the organic and the electronic, the nostalgic and the futuristic. The track lives in between. Support the art & the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: Ligaya Escueta – Dollweb
Written by Anika Maculangan Ligaya Escueta’s latest album entitled Dollweb is a means to commemorate the occasion of turning 18 — a pivotal moment in one’s life, with lots of changes to come. Not to be fooled by her gothic aesthetic, the album comes to one’s knowledge in the vein of ‘coming-of-age’, as one follows through her journey of self-discovery and reflection. Escueta’s music career launched as early into her life as she was 13, being mentored by some of Manila’s household names such as Acel Bisa-Van Ommen and Mikey Amistoso, who have helped her flourish over the years as a musician. From her first single The End to now, a full album, one can clearly acknowledge how much her sound has evolved. In Dollweb we notice vocals to be more concise and polished, demonstrating how much more care was taken in mixing and production. It’s also to be noted that Escueta’s instrumentals have become more complex and multi-layered, contrary to her earlier songs, which were more humble and simplistic. Her rise and growth as an artist is comparable to other musicians like beabadoobee, who started as a young creative making music out of her bedroom, to playing for larger audiences. It’s a sense of progress that’s inspirational at best, since it allows for listeners to follow them through their success as an artist. By listening to Dollweb, it’s still detectable that Escueta is just like every teenager who garners some influence from bands like Weezer and Blur — although, that’s what makes the album all the more genuine and authentic. Dollweb doesn’t try to go beyond itself, it sticks to where it came from. Just by Dollweb in itself, we can envision what Escueta’s bedroom looks like — band posters splattered across every wall, a tower of effect pedals in one corner, and a diary of collages, journal entries, and lyrics laying by a desk. Escueta doesn’t feel like a ‘distant’ artist, introducing that sense of truthfulness in almost every song she conceptualizes. All of the emotions and thoughts which she expresses in her tracks stand out the most for their validity — as they convey in such accuracy, the confusion and messiness that is to be met upon entering youth. While more synchronicity could be tended to in the future, these small flaws are what makes the album true to where she is in life right now. We mustn’t forget that at the end of the day, she is just 18, as we all once were, and nobody is ever perfect at that age. If anything, the slight malfunctions, mostly in musicality such as late tempos and missed beats are what furthers Escueta to being an honest artist. Someone much younger than her could be streaming her music, and realizing that there is no inherent requirement to immediately be immaculate. She also informs her audience that it’s never too early to start. While it’s hard to be taken seriously as a young musician most of the time, she proves otherwise. One of her tracks Laughing in Milk had managed to be released under Tenzi Records, and by that time, the local scene had already gained familiarity with her music. Dollweb is her most cohesive project, exemplifying just precisely how she wishes to develop her music moving forward. At the moment, her sound is reminiscent of other dollcore-adjacent artists like Lalleshwari (Katie Jane Garside) and Solya, however for all we know, this could shift at any given moment. We can see that there’s a lot more definite room for exploration, as Escueta still has the freedom to better solidify her sound. For now, she has Dollweb to concretize her presence in the music scene. She’s one of many, who represents the younger generation of the local community, and it’s always exciting to have that glimmer of hope — that there are up and coming musicians who the torch can be passed onto. What Dollweb provides is a promising future — that edgy undertones within the indie rock scene will persist. Dollweb is an album that speaks the veracities of adolescence, from the most anguish-ridden to the most delightful. It brings all of these mixed elements into one collection of songs and brings the listener back to those days — when everything seemed so mundane yet complicated. The album justifies these encounters and experiences, making it all the more vital for younger listeners, who need something to connect with — amongst the vast pool of musicians, who cater more toward older generations. Support the art and the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: Noa Mal – I’m the outsider, looking in
Written by Nikolai Dineros “Quality over quantity,” a popular adage that has guided countless artisans, artists, and authors in history into crafting masterpieces. However, it appears that Noa Mal is not a huge proponent of this. For the famed lo-fi grunge pop artist, it’s quality through quantity. “I’m the outsider, looking in” marks Noa’s return after a busy four-album run in 2023, a feat that made her stand out from the rest of her contemporaries. And much like her past releases, in true DIY fashion, she handled everything from the writing to the arrangements, and production, all the way to the promotion post-rollout. This level of work ethic is as commendable as it gets, but her 15th album release showed us that her hardworking nature is less of a flex of her discipline and more of a fundamental part of her creative process. With all the roles she assumes under her moniker—as a lyricist, musician, producer, promoter, and as the very character she presents—Noa Mal has always kept a tight grip on the self, compartmentalizing her feelings across different tracks that show different sides of her very complex personality. For example, “Someone Like Me” sees Noa claiming her many tendencies as intrinsic parts of her being, and no other person in the world can come close enough to draw a baseline similarity from which to form a connection. In contrast, “The Serpent” shows her willingness to let someone in, though not without giving caution. These are no unique concepts per se. Even in her past albums, she employed similar approaches to songwriting. While, from this example, she doesn’t steer too far from being a starkly different person from one song to the next, she chops up several aspects of her whole self and scatters them across multiple tracks where nuance can then take shape. As far as her style of lyricism goes, Noa Mal has stuck to her guns in her latest record. However, the same cannot be said about her approach to production, which showed hints of boldness and resistance from her usual artistic disposition. “I’m the outsider, looking in” is arguably the most electronic Noa Mal has ever sounded, which opened new doors to how she packages her music and accentuates her messages. For instance, the guitar work in “I Am Not Someone / Drink from the cup” reached a bellowing low that was never achieved in prior Noa Mal releases. The drum machine displayed in the album has also never sounded more artificial—and, by virtue of grunge, has never sounded more grunge. It was almost as if Noa Mal was rebelling against her past records that never attempted to go all out the way “I’m the outsider, looking in” did. Ultimately, Noa Mal’s uncontested discipline and dedication to her craft extend not only to her work ethic as an artist proven competent in releasing music in quick succession. It is also rooted in the foundations of her creativity. Every piece of music Noa Mal puts out is short and sweet, and every album release is a claim of her individuality with all its many faces, some of which look the same as another but with different intricacies tied to each layer. It is through this sheer quantity of her scattered pieces that she was able to build an image we can never mistake for anybody else in the slowcore umbrella. “I’m the outsider, looking in” provides another piece to that puzzle. Support the art and the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: The Braille Flowers – The Magician Was Shot Dead (Scarlet Rivers)
Written by Nikolai Dineros If you’re just hopping on The Braille Flowers now and this is the first song you hear from them, we won’t blame you if the dream pop aspect raises a few question marks above your head. The four-piece band started their journey by taking a dream pop-adjacent route in “Just to See You” before going on an indie pop direction in “Lately.” And now, with “The Magician Was Shot Dead (Scarlet Rivers),” the band is pushing a flashier and headbang-worthy sound into their mix. Less delicate and more pedal-to-the-metal, “The Magician Was Shot Dead (Scarlet Rivers)” is as direct as it gets for an alt-rock song. From the guitars that are as gritty as The Smashing Pumpkins in their “Gish” days to the shamelessly harmonic guitar fill-in licks and solo section, it’s almost as if The Braille Flowers was measuring how far they can take this loudness without steering too far from their mellower roots. Even the lyrics, courtesy of Francis Masangkay, now have more wit to them. Francis employs a less self-reflective and vulnerable approach in favor of a more playful and adventurous (yet at the same time, cryptic and self-preserve) approach without sacrificing the emotional core of their songwriting seen in their two previous releases. The band was simply having fun putting together “The Magician Was Shot Dead (Scarlet Rivers),” continuously looking for ways to reinvent themselves. It is still up in the air how The Braille Flowers will navigate their sound with all the genres they have already explored and incorporated into their sound in such a short amount of time. If anything, they have proven themselves capable of writing such captivating songs while adopting different styles, with “The Magician Was Shot Dead (Scarlet Rivers)” being their second-most cohesive thematically, only behind their debut “Just to See You.” On one hand, their listener base may not prefer if the band continues to stray from their dream-pop roots. But on the other hand, it would be interesting to see it all come together, now that they have more than just a couple of tools in their toolkit.
EP Review: LU – Not Fragile, Just Tired
Written by Aly Maaño As 2024 came to a close, some of us couldn’t help but be in a somber mood. Aside from the festivities and family reunions, we also needed to prepare for a new transition which can often put us in a state of reflection, regret, and second-guessing. In her debut EP, Not Fragile Just Tired, 22-year-old LU sends us into a spiral of emotions on the precipice of a new year. Growing up in Aurora province, LU is no stranger to seeing gigantic sea waves off Baler’s coast, but when the tides of melancholy hit, surfing through the turbulence may not be an option. Sometimes, the waves roll in on you, each as strong and bold as the last. The EP’s opening track, BLAME IT ON THE BEER, sets a downcast tone, with its introspective lyrics, distorted riffs, and powerful guitar breakdowns fusing into a melodic, post-rock treat which is highlighted by the cacophony of aggressive guitars and LU’s haunting vocals towards the bridge. Lyrically, the same level of anguish is felt in LIVE FOR WHAT but it possesses more pop-rock sensibilities due to its consistent mellow and jangly sound, serving as a momentary crash in preparation for the next track. The great wave of desolation peaks at LINES, a song featuring Yusilo. In this track, LU finds herself in a tornadic waterspout of her own emotions, clashing with Yusilo’s heavier guitar textures and progressive rhythms. At this breaking point, LU further showcases her expressive vocal prowess with Calvin Borja, Yusilo’s frontman, impressing us with his vocal dynamic and range. As if all hope is lost, the track abruptly ends after the outro, signaling the end of the storm. While the first three tracks were all guitar-heavy, the latter half of the EP features acoustic tracks like CONTROL and KINDER. The soft plucking of guitars along with LU’s hushed voice evokes the quiet, calm, and desolate aftermath of the first act. The mood picks up again at ASTERISK, ushering upbeat drum patterns and grungy guitars. But this hopeful undertone doesn’t last for long. As if to harness the sea’s agony, the last track transitions mid-song to a subdued atmosphere with the lyrics building up to LU’s pleading screams, “I wanna give her the world,” which continues like a prayer to whoever may listen. LU’s first EP is brimming with potential. Their evocative vocals and contemplative lyricism are far from being one-dimensional and the fresh elements in her sound don’t fall off the bar either. LU sings about the transient nature of emotions much like the quavering sea, with its waves present and passing. Not Fragile Just Tired represents the rising and ebbing tides and each track is a wave-sound bearing a satisfying symphony. Support the art & the artist:
SOUNDS OF THE SEA: YO
Written by Louis Pelingen Amidst the lunge in the 2020s, the alt-rock scene has been slowly pulling all the stops in the corners of South Korea, slipping itself knee-deep in the various alternative rock facets such as shoegaze, dream pop, and especially post-rock. Through tightly-knit connected dreamers and nugazers like Parannoul, Brokenteeth, and Della Zyr, you see how they piece together those influences into their personal musical avenues. For Parannoul, he embraced cutthroat, massive walls of shoegaze flair in his breakthrough project To See the Next Part of the Dream which has now been simmered down for a delicate air on his 2023 project, After the Magic, just before he embarked once more on that massive soundscape for his 2024 record, Sky Hundred. For Brokenteeth, he emphasized the power of that shoegaze sound to create a saturated dredge in his albums. Della Zyr stretches apart more of her dream pop embellishments across her debut and her EP, filling in more atmosphere within that floating expansion. In the year 2024 comes another dreamer that expands that compositional complexity and scale into their debut project that just came out in the early days of January through every listener’s favorite activity: scouring through Bandcamp. Within Yo’s affirmed debut album, 희망열차를 타고 우주로 가요 (Hopetrain to Universe), he glides through the vastness of the universe and delves his alt-rock influences closer to progressive rock, full of entrancing bright tones and ascending progressions with the accented gleaming pianos, organs, wurlitzers, and trumpets offering an enthralling listening experience across the entire record. These imbue Yo’s raw performances, knacks for melodic swells, and diaristic songwriting approaching pain, nostalgia, and hope in the spaces of love with spacious scale where that yearning is launched across the grand kaleidoscopic beauty of the universe, brimming more light and color as it travels at farther distances. On songs like “Tilikum” and “Hopetrain to Universe,” there is a blazing flair from the keys, drums, and guitars paired with their ascending compositions that erupt and bloom into their joyous forms. Yet the scale on certain cuts takes on a different scope entirely. “3:16” takes a bumpy trek on the overall soundscape with its rougher, blown-out bombast as the track’s internal structure starts on a glossy sheen before it succumbs to the bellowing abyss. “Sweetrain” and its riveting coats of impassioned atmosphere put you into a state of skyward excitement, immersed through palpable progressions amidst frothing beds of horns all around. And “God’s Gift” with its glorious stuffy layers of organs, choral vocals, and Yo’s distant yet echoing performance illustrates the essence of what the album is aiming for, shooting for the stars and beyond to clasp a sense of long-lasting hope that paves a lilting way forward. Another step in branching out South Korea’s fledgling dreamers and nugazers to the mass of alt-rock palettes, Yo certainly takes a shot to reach for the stars and eventually linger within the exciting ventures that he can go across the infinite spaces around him. Through his embrace of progressive rock tapestries, he’s putting another mark on South Korea’s exciting new acts in their growing flock of alt-rock talents thus far, slowly making waves with a live show alongside fellow South Korean act khc back as well as an in-depth interview by poclanos back in February. Don’t forget to get a ticket to a journey of a lifetime, you might also want to take a chance of feeling these glimpses of optimistic hope.
TRACK REVIEW: aunt robert – Mad
Written by Elijah P. Gabe Gomez, better known through their solo project aunt robert, explores indie rock and dream pop with a diaristic approach. Their Spotify bio emphasizes “I like writing short songs,” wholly embodying this sentiment by focusing on emotional depth rather than song length. In their latest single, “Mad,” Gomez is accompanied by a powerful wave of sonic textures—layered guitars and electronic swells of reverb—that create a walloping wall of sound. This sonic backdrop either ushers in a blissful catharsis or points to a bold new direction, moving away from their bedroom pop roots. “Mad” seeks to sound grandiose yet it remains grounded. It is a statement to the entirety of aunt robert’s material. The buildup in the track’s verses creates tension as aunt robert’s whispered vocals and the accompanying band build towards the chorus. The result is a peak that is both cathartic and a display of emotional unease. While it might may seem elementary to craft a song with both quiet and loud dynamics for some, the contemporary execution of these ideas makes “Mad” especially satisfying. The blend of uncompromising electronica, transcendental dream pop, and the innocence of singer-songwriter formulas comes together beautifully. aunt robert consistently delivered a powerful track, making it clear they know how to create something special. Support the art & the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: July XIV – Hunger
Written by Louis Pelingen Six years might be a long time, but the result is worth the wait. July XIV is an indie rock group whose debut project has been waiting in the wings for some time now. Back in 2018, they first put out “Hunger,”, their very first single that carries off a potent rock tune amidst Evee Simon’s tender vocals punching through the vigorous grooves and soothing melodic flair. That song is perhaps the only song they’ll put out in the open during that time, as they have been focused on performing live since then, with more songs that they will eventually bring onto the record. Some of those live songs will be then released in 2022, keeping that upcoming project still bursting with hope after all that silence. 6 years have since passed, and July XIV have finally put together their debut album, charmingly titled after that debut single, Hunger. Running just around 28 minutes, July XIV brought together a tightly-knit package of indie rock cuts, a straightforward enough descriptor executed well through the stronger compositions by members of this band, as well as the production, mixing, and mastering duties by Evee Simon, Kevin Ingco, and Megumi Acorda respectively. Allowing these cuts to have a consistent sound quality, even if the dryness can run together at spots. But nevertheless, the blend of punchy textures paired with contrasting moments between flashy passages and tender moments are at least solid, from the riveting guitar work and solid grooves of “Chainsmoker,” the aforementioned “Hunger” where Evee’s vocals spark every time the song hits the chorus, the grunge flair that pops up on cuts like ‘Belief’ and ‘Deus Ex Machina’ with the meaty guitars smashing through with aplomb, and the string accented ‘(with feeling)’ allows the album to end in a more solemn note as those weary strings anchors a welcome emotive presence within the instrumentation. Ruminating towards the lyricism, the album title “hunger” feels apt for what Evee Simon is reaching out within this album, as her writing focuses on yearning for so much more within life despite the sense of loss and hardships being felt and gathered over time. This focus sticks the landing due to the sharp metaphors intensifying the drive to live within a grounded reality. Clinging towards dreams, memories, and fantasies keeps the protagonist moving onwards which eventually culminates in “No Sugar” where the protagonist ruminates how getting older does make them wiser and stronger, yet that maturity still can’t drift away the pang they still feel towards losing some important to them on ‘Revelations I’. But despite all that, “(with feeling)” put things back to a much more hopeful but also complex scope, where despite questioning the overall spectacle towards what it means to be a musician, it still gives a reason for the protagonist to feel alive—perhaps creating a new dream that they want to achieve sooner rather than later. Despite the cut-and-dry approach to the production alongside the briefness that can leave the back half feeling less stellar as a result, the melodies that July XIV puts into have some invigorating moments, and the lyrical arc that observes and reflects one’s own hardships and yearning to hold on to better things have sharp details that are worth looking into. Hunger as an album might be a double-edged sword, keeping everyone who has waited for this album to feel satisfied on one side but also leaving too much empty space on the other. Yet, when the album does hit its stride – an exceptional one at that – it leaves us hungry for so much more. Support the art & the artist:
EP REVIEW: rosh – cotton mouth
Written by JK Caray If you were also a hip local music listener back in the 2010s, you understand how crucial music websites like Bandcamp and SoundCloud were in experiencing the height of that underground, lofi scene brewing inside people’s own houses. While home recordings have always been a thing, the format of these sites provided the internet a front-row seat to the unfiltered, underproduced music some passionate strangers online made in their free time. Among these lie hits and misses but in 2016, Roshelle Munez released her first release “gitling,” which became an instant hit on SoundCloud. Following the virality of “gitling,” Manila-based Alt-Pop artist Munez, aka rosh, became an indie darling overnight—however, it would not be until 8 years later that she released her debut EP entitled “cotton mouth.” Serving as her serious venture into the music scene, the release—a long-awaited debut effort consisting of her unseen works from 2016-2022—allows us to take a peek into her diary as an extension of her psyche. “gitling – 2024” reinvents the original with more polished production and a clearer sound direction that fits right in with the rest of the EP. The addition of groovy drums and harmonies gives it a more laid back and playful vibe, as if having given it space and time to breathe. In stark contrast to this, “human goo” introduces that wall of angst that lingers throughout the entire record. It picks up the pace with driven drums, rosh’s fatigue embodied in her vocals buried beneath eclectic bass synths and the harmonic dissonance of guitars. “rainbow road” steps back from the heavy noise, favoring to experiment with lush, dreampop-like sensibilities. The lyrics echoing her heartbreak are cryptic yet very familiar, something everyone has felt but nobody could pinpoint. Lastly, “nevermind” closes the EP at the zenith of its turmoil. The instrumentals weep with a sense of deep longing and yearning; she’s begged and begged, but somehow it’ll never be reciprocated. Errors decorate the track alongside distorted guitars, creating the perfect backdrop for the emotional breakdown that follows. rosh ends the EP with a “never mind,” too tired to care anymore. In cotton mouth, each song is a confession; all the anguish and hurt hidden finally surfacing after years of being bottled up. Maybe that’s why despite its heavy, angsty nature, cotton mouth feels freeing. It’s the words you couldn’t say and the stories you try to forget after years of running away. Ultimately, rosh’s first foray displays a remarkably promising future for Manila’s star-sign-loving, alt-pop rockstar. Support the art & the artist: