Written by Louis Pelingen “No Way Now” is a song that has more weight to geiko than anyone else. A change in tone and sound where she confronts a connection that used to be endearingly close but is now tousled and cut away, a narrative ruffled through shuffling, dreamy pop-rock flutters that’s additionally produced by Jad Lara. Adding light percussion, glossy synths, and reverbed guitars that complement geiko’s more somber singing, just before the guitar solo swerves and she starts releasing her anger at that past relationship. Whilst not exactly a remarkable song – drums sound lighter than they should, chorus doesn’t hook strongly, and geiko’s release of anger stumbles more than it is anguishing – the gradual change of her sound ever since the release of “Palapit Sa U” offers growth for her as a musician. Perhaps, in wading through the past, she ends up somewhere refreshing. Growth ends up like that, after all. SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST:
Tag: Indie Rock
SABAW SESSIONS: Hazylazy
Approaching Antagonisms The singular author of his work, Jason Fernandez, is a textbook solo artist. His brainchild, Hazylazy, remains his closest collaborator, revisiting the Antagonisms demos he released from his bedroom years ago. Written by Hannah Manuel Born in the post-internet age, Hazylazy is the project of Tagalog native Jason Fernandez. An indie rock internet secret of the early 2020s, Jason made waves in the (then online) scene as the solo mind behind The Resentment Segment. Tracks like Ultrawanker and Juxtapose were the lockdown anthems that eventually funneled crowds new and old back into dive bars and in-person gig venues. With Antagonisms, Hazylazy reemerges transformed, putting together years of musical exploration into a cohesive and deeply personal thesis. The genealogy of Hazylazy precedes the act itself. Spending his formative years in Laguna, Jason found his first audience performing with his five schoolmates at fairs in the local Catholic school circuit as Serotonin. In step with the rise of indie bands all over the country, led by the likes of Autotelic and Ben&Ben, the six-piece Biñan-grown band had the classic OPM toolkit at their disposal while somehow still maintaining impressive individuality for an adolescent outfit. Part of this ought to be due to Jason, who composed the original pieces they performed in between covers. Initially writing songs in the drum seat of the band, Jason first made his way to the mic when the band’s vocalist quit. This late 2010s indie rock sensibility transforms into something more atmospheric toward the latter part of Serotonin’s lifespan. When the band quietly dissipated into college and work, the singer-songwriter took to SoundCloud for a new solo project, where a trajectory of his work remains in view today. From chillwave to jangle pop to neo-psychedelia, Hazylazy is heavily inspired by the wild array of musical inspirations Jason holds dear. A multisensory and multidisciplinary trip, Antagonisms is the matured mastery of Jason’s exploration project years in the making. The singular composer and producer of the album, Jason’s closest collaborator is himself. Many of the tracks are years older than they let on, beginning as demos back when Hazylazy was still in its seedling stages. With an ethos of total authorship and a creative control of the acoustic environment he molds, the indie rock auteur revisits old compositions and converses, eventually completing a years-spanning project long awaited since his last release four years ago. He orchestrates his listening experience down to a T. From the warm decay of lo-fi synthesizers, to drumlines—a channel he is well acquainted with—like heartbeats in their earnestness, the time it has taken to get him here is a reward made even riper for those who were there with him from the start. Back in time, it was impossible to imagine Hazylazy as real. The adulterated frequencies of the real world were seemingly not the place for Jason’s ethereality. The boundlessness of the net—its lack of physical constraints, its endless archives, its potential for anonymous reinvention—serves Jason well, so well that it is easy to conflate it with the separate and equally boundless entity that is his mind. As time and a return to on-site gigs permitted, the underground bore witness to a new master. From an etiology of melancholy, Antagonisms arrives noisily and unapologetically, not giving a fuck about what the world thinks, blazing a trail through it anyway. A storied creation and a boundless frontier, Antagonisms is something to look forward to on the live stage. **This interview has been edited for clarity and brevity. HM: There are songs in Antagonisms and related to antagonisms written with years in between them and the final album. Specifically, the tracks “Another Self-Loathing Demo” and “ANTAGONISMS” which were released four and three years ago, respectively. Hazylazy: Yes, which is funny ‘cause “ANTAGONISMS” did not make it to the album. But “antagonisms”, it latched on as a name. Nagkaroon pa nga ko ng iba’t ibang album names in mind, and I was trying my best to not use antagonisms because I was telling myself na “Ah may nakarelease na track ng antagonisms, yeah, whatever”. But I figured if that’s the name that works, so be it. I just went for “Antagonisms” even though there already is a song called “Antagonisms” and wala siya sa mismong album. HM: Is there any relation between the two “Antagonisms”? Hazylazy: It felt like [the song] started the new sound for me? That’s when I separated from the previous sound, which is the sound that most people have heard from the Resentment Segment, and “ANTAGONISMS” was a big jump from what I usually make. It was a good starting point too, in a way that song started everything. And then lyrically, the album of Antagonisms fits the title. Parang kumbaga the “ANTAGONISMS” as a single, the one on SoundCloud, the sonic aspect and the lyric aspect don’t really fit in the album I’ve made, so I didn’t think to put it in. But looking back, the title really worked with how the lyrics were written: unapologetically saying anything, unapologetically following the sound that you want, not caring about what other people say to me. It’s like being antagonistic in a way, putting yourself first, being selfish quote unquote. HM: The singly credited composer, writer, and producer of your project. These are songs you’ve written with years in between them. Hazylazy: Yes, years apart but it’s not as if I’ve been working on those songs for the whole time interval. I just let it sit there and then when I decided I was gonna start recording the album that’s really the only time I revisit the song and there were changes here and there but not so much. I would say just production wise, na may onting adds lang and onting subtraction of things HM: In a way you’re revisiting a past iteration of yourself as well, in the year you first created those demos. As the sole auteur to your music, what is it like collaborating with a past
EP REVIEW: (e)motion engine – tell me how you f(e)el
Written by JK Caray How does a song mirror one’s life? (e)motion engine’s debut EP ‘tell me how you f(e)el’ doesn’t really give you an answer, but it provides a slate for you to write on. 6-piece indie rock outfit (e)motion engine has been all over the scene. From the release of their first track “mlb” dating back to 2024, the band has quickly cultivated a dedicated fanbase. After a year of teasing tracks, their newest EP ‘tell me how you f(e)el’ only pushes them further into their growing success. If you’ve gone to a few of (e)motion engine’s gigs over the years, you’ll know the kind of dynamic energy they bring to a set. With engaging performances that often result in a moshpit here and there, it’s a wonder that they’ve managed to record the same kinetic vibe in their EP. It’s another wonder that they’ve managed to be sonically consistent with the rest of their portfolio, mostly attributed to the edgy pop punk sound that permeates through all their songs which is a nod to their emo roots. (e)motion engine’s identity is deeply engraved into their music that it doesn’t just sound the same, it sounds uniquely them. ‘tell me how you f(e)el’ reads like a diary. At times it feels alive, as if someone occasionally peeking through the drum beats. Each song acts as a journal entry, capturing the essence of being in a certain moment. It’s filled with different scenarios that may conjure up a memory or two; “milk” is the entry for when your mind betrays you as you remember somebody you shouldn’t. On the other hand, “keep it in” is a track you want to expel some pent up energy, while “mlb” celebrates the beauty of life and the privilege of seeing it blossom in front of you. Not all of it has to be profound, much like how every day can’t always be exciting, but it speaks true to the human experience. Throughout the EP, (e)motion engine carefully tiptoes the line between telling a story and letting the listener fill in the blanks. At its very core, the tape hinges on your vulnerability to trust in it. It’s the record that you go to at the end of the day, like the vent folder in your notes app or the childhood blanket you cry to. It wants to make you feel seen. Now it’s up for you to decide, are you willing to ‘tell me how you f(e)el’ or are you still scared to make it real? SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST:
EP REVIEW: muckmedicine – Caspian
Written By Rory Marshall What do you get when you are in a dark bedroom, a Stratocaster, and being deep in the throes of melancholia? That’s what’s in store in muckmedicine’s newest EP “Caspian”. Spanning across 6 tracks are scattered thoughts and confessions left unsaid; a voice echoed through angsty indie rock. This EP is the second long-form release since Migs Tabilin’s debut EP “Inside Enclosures” back in 2020, and with this most recent project, he doubles down on his lo-fi sound. How muckmedicine differs from his sister band Fairview Far — which features more upbeat indie rock and playful lyrics — is that he takes the opportunity in his solo work to indulge in dejection. With Tabilin’s solo work, he explores his melancholy and puts his inner monologue into song, using the audience as a stand-in for the person he wishes to let into his psyche. It’s intimate lyrically, which is only accentuated by the lo-fi vibe that Tabilin has embraced wholeheartedly. “Warmth” and “Erase Me (I Hope She Listens to Modern Baseball)” feature lyrics directed to a once-loved one. As a listener, it’s akin to reading a letter addressed to someone else, and what’s found in those letters is pining and unreciprocated love. The songwriting varies on other tracks, reading more like vignettes of thought. Scattered ideas similar to ones that intrusively pop up in your head while trying to go to sleep. This is seen in songs like “Please Play Florist At My Funeral” and the intro “Pattern,” which features a monologue from Ice King of Adventure Time. It adds to the DIY aesthetic, harkoning to tiktoks where people put midwest emo riffs on top of random monologues from cartoons. True devastation is found in the combination of the two writing styles, which is no better showcased in the final track “Cut”. The song takes an even more sullen turn than the previous entries of the EP. It’s an unresolved goodbye led with resentment, and conversely, longing for what still could be. The abrupt and straightforward lines slice deep into the chest: “I don’t ever wanna see your fucking face again, I never wanted to see any of you again”. But the knife finds more purchase with the last line of the EP: “I never made a gesture, but I wanted you to stay”. The production of the project lends a lot to the intimacy of the overall sound; The lo-fi bedroom rock sound only adds charm to the EP, further emphasizing the vibe of being alone in your room with only your thoughts to keep you company. The vocals are, at times, passed through an EQ filter, reminiscent of hearing a voicemail left late at night, as seen in “Wednesday”. The crunchy distortion of the guitars adds depth to the morose nature of the music and adds to the swell of the breakdowns in tracks like “Patterns” and “Cut”. The sound is evocative of the pandemic-era boom of home music production. When before it was a necessity, muckmedicine uses it as a tool to capture solitude and isolation, both physical and mental. “Caspian” was an opportunity to say the things folks would never think to say out loud. To finally release the cacophony of thoughts and find closure in the music. The dedication on muckmedicine’s Bandcamp simply states “for our loved ones”, which could not be a more succinct description for the project. It’s an EP for victims of unrequited love and those who struggle to put into words the complex emotions they feel. Muckmedicine’s pandemic era sound was utilised beautifully in this project. As fitting as it was with the themes of isolation of the EP, it does leave the listener wondering if he’ll evolve his sound further in future projects. His style has been consistent to the point of stagnant with this EP sharing a lot of similarities from his initial EP which was released all the way back in 2020. 5 years later, it can be hard to tell if any time has passed at all. Knowing this, it just makes us even more eager to see what muckmedicine can come up with in his next endeavors. SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST: Caspian by muckmedicine
TRACK REVIEW: Your #1 Fan – Radio Transmission
Written by Gabriel Bagahansol Every artist starts out as a fan. You get exposed to all the ways people express themselves and enjoy it so much that you’d want to take a shot at it yourself. So just as the name “Your #1 Fan” suggests, Nica Feliciano started out living and breathing music – frequenting gigs in the underground music scene; playing bass guitar for bands such as Bird Dens, Thirds, and The Purest Blue; and even putting up her own indie rock shows. It was inevitable that Your #1 Fan would eventually be expanded into a music project; that time has come with the release of her debut single, “Radio Transmission.” The wonder and curiosity of being a fan is manifested in the music and lyrical themes of this song, a space rock ballad that sails like a probe traversing the cosmos. But the story remains mostly within the Earth’s atmosphere: here, Nica longs to make contact with somebody she loves who’s in another part of the world, wanting to know whether there’s a place for her in their heart even though they’re so far apart. The imagery of satellite communication courses through these lyrics, as it does in the music, with beeps and pulses that sound like incoming signals peppered throughout the song, which plays at a tempo meant to relive the grandeur of space travel. However, the song picks up speed halfway through as Nica begins to blur the boundaries between the vast distance of two lovers on opposite sides of the Earth and our collective smallness within the universe. It no longer matters that life means we’re all tiny figures tethered to an ultimately tiny place: as long as she makes contact with the one she loves, the concept of dimensions just fades away. Whenever we define ourselves with the celestial bodies, we often look to the Moon and its chase towards the Sun, or our relation with the stars, or even the depth of the unknown. Therefore, to hear an exploration on the celestial bodies we ourselves have created, and how we used our discoveries of outer space to bring us closer to one another no matter where we are in the world, is refreshing for once. Which brings us back to the cyclical nature of the making of an artist: we take what we find in the artists that we love and make something from that for ourselves. With “Radio Transmission,” Your #1 Fan has successfully taken that one small step as an artist, and as Nica continues to release more music and plays more shows with this project, people can certainly look forward to the great leaps ahead. Who knows? You could become Your #1 Fan’s no. 1 fan. SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST:
EP REVIEW: Wuji Wuji – NOVISION
Written by Adrian Jade Francisco Alt-fusion Wuji Wuji has always been a six-piece defined by motion. Their sonic palette constantly twists, turns, unravels like a loose thread, and is always in flux. From jazz-funk rhythms to the dreamy allure of city-pop, now they’ve peeled it all back, exposing ”NOVISION,” a six-track extended play hot out of the oven: fresh, with a warm, experimental bite. This sophomore release is a deliberate act of destruction and reconstruction, preserving some past elements but shedding the hip-hop influences entirely from “NOSOUL.” Drenched in brooding basslines and reverb-heavy guitar, “Times a Crime” and “Push & Pull” carve the emotional core of the EP. The title track “NOVISION” is to surrender to zero gravity, lost in the space of vocal layers and synths that hum like a distant past. It projects exactly what it needs to: a sense of suspension before the EP concludes, acting as a transition to the second half. “Careless” and “Words Hurt” leave things taut, not unresolved. These tracks lay a pivotal point in the EP, deliberately placing the listener in a state of emotional inertia and reflecting a measured evolution in Wuji Wuji’s sound. “NOVISION” was created during a period of identity struggle for Wuji Wuji, a bold, risky move that marks a turning point in their discography, defying expectations that they would lean further into the city-pop path laid out by 2023’s “Kanluran.” But that shift isn’t a misstep; Instead, it reflects their growing curiosity in production and willingness to explore unfamiliar territory. Wuji Wuji doesn’t just change direction; they embrace uncertainty as part of the process. Whether this marks a sound caught mid-metamorphosis or a new era, “NOVISION” proves that the group admires movement more than comfort, and that’s exactly what makes them worth following. SUPPORT THE ART & THE ARTIST:
ALBUM REVIEW: unikko ijo – kung ipagdaramot ang nadarama, saan ba tayo pupunta?
Written by JK Caray With worn-out confessions scattered across his discography, unikko ijo’s brand of writing has earned him a special place among yearners who cover his songs on a dying digicam or create intricate lyric art that gets passed around their timeline. But after half a decade of writing unrequited ballads, the solo artist seems to have hit a checkpoint. His latest album entitled “kung ipagdaramot ang nadarama, saan ba tayo mapupunta?” shows a different resolve from the same artist who understands a little more about what it means to love. “malayo sa lupa ang bituin” starts the album at its lowest point, thematically. The blaring electronic pianos set an alluring backdrop alongside his defeated quips as unikko ijo contemplates whether it’s worth it to keep loving. Amidst its catchy melody that predates virality, the song also asks the most important question yet, “itatago nalang ba ang nadarama sa iyo?”. Throughout the album, he gradually builds up his answer. Halfway, songs like “kakaiba,” “matiwasay,” and “sapat nang hindi ka magsalita” fluffs up that familiar melding of Manila sound and lo-fi bedroom pop unikko ijo’s known for. The production is much more polished while retaining those intimate imperfections that drive home the sincerity in his words. As always, the solo artist is effective at building choruses that plant themselves in your eardrums. The simple song structure in the form of drum loops and hooky guitar riffs serves not only as a vessel but as the driving force for his talent at infiltrating your emotions with his intimacy and relatability. In “Hiwaga”, we get unikko ijo’s answer in the form of a question that bears the name of the album. “kung ipagdaramot ang nadarama, saan ba tayo pupunta?” shares the sentiment that fruitless longing gets us nowhere. Those unspoken words, stolen looks, and hidden letters all turn to rot on their own. In hoarding your feelings and creating your own stories, you’ve built an inescapable tower, becoming a reminder that self-contained devotion can be selfish. What good does our silent pining do if it’s not to be seen? To be felt? To be transformed into another thing? Where do these intense emotions linger if not become the catalyst of our self-destruction? It may sound harsh for some and inspiring for others, but this is a truth that most of us have forgotten. After all, what use does love have if not shared? The key to all this seems obvious. A line in “malayo sa lupa ang bituin” goes “babaguhin ko ang sarili ko”, a phrase that explains how the singer-songwriter sees the shift in his perspective that led to this album. At a glance, unikko ijo may seem like the type of artist who only has one gimmick, but this release reveals how he is capable of pushing the envelopes of his niche. “kung ipagdaramot” is the kind of album that emerges when an artist becomes aware of the clichés that surround his music and evolves along with it. SUPPORT THE ART & THE ARTIST:
ALBUM REVIEW: Fatigued – Negative Tide
Written by Adrian Jade Francisco The debut album from Fatigued arrives not with a bang, but with a whisper — yet its emotional resonance is anything but quiet. Nearly five years later, Emilio Gonzales’ solo project approaches to submerge us in the sentimental undercurrent of ‘Negative Tide’. Fatigued’s ten-track album is an introspective indie pop journey through uncertainty and quiet resilience, reflecting the experiences of the musician during the hectic process of ‘Negative Tide’. The opening track, “Oversized Words,” explores the struggle of articulating emotions and emotional disconnection in presence of hazy guitars, which is a prevalent theme throughout the release. A notable track “Temples” is a poignant commentary on the difficulty of self-improvement, expressing discontent with social expectations or conventions. Leaning on instrumentation, and the lyrics take a subtler, more restrained approach in “Take the Beating,” establishes the plea of emotional exile the best; the lines “Send me / To a home I used to be / Alone with my thoughts” echoes the theme of the album’s title and tone. What makes the track compelling is its stripped-back approach and emotional honesty holds back just enough to let the listener linger in the tension, the ache, and the silence of resignation. Fatigued channels his influences into something distinctively personal, crafting a sound that serves as a vessel for his ruminations. “Instant Disconnection” serves as a conclusion to its themes of inner turmoil and emotional exhaustion. While the album as a whole leans into a consistent mood of bleak introspection, it offers a subtle shift: not necessarily toward resolution, but toward resignation or quiet acceptance. The strength indeed lies in its thematic consistency and emotional honesty. Gonzales does not shy away from exploring discomfort and vulnerability. The lyrical quality is not overly abstract, making the weight of the tracks accessible and relatable to the listener. However, while the songs blend into one another, it lacks further dynamic shifts that could cover more emotional and sonic textures. The middle section of the album lacks space for experimentation; However, its sincerity and homage to the genre is still intact. ‘Negative Tide’ is a compelling indie pop monologue of emotional unrest. Fatigued’s sophomore album doesn’t just express vulnerability but inhabits it fully. The album has an unwavering commitment to thematic consistency and emotional transparency. Gonzales lives in a world where discomfort is explored with sincerity and grit, the band shows no signs of exhaustion — if anything Fatigued’s creative tide is still rising. For an album steeped in emotional unrest, it ends with remarkable clarity. Support the art and the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: tuesday trinkets – Cigarettes, Beer, & Stray Cats
Written by Noelle Alarcon Davao-based trio tuesday trinkets possess an eclectic demeanor to their name. Each of their heads is tinged with neon, and their personalities are written all over their cover art; From the distinctive ways they dress to the playful doodles over their faces. Their sound on the other hand? A promising, syrupy brand of power pop that would reverberate through the end of a 2000s chick flick. Endearing and reminiscent of good times long forgotten, like a trinket you dig up from a coat pocket on a random Tuesday. “Cigarettes, Beer, and Stray Cats,” tuesday trinkets’ debut single, is a bright, beaming introduction to what they have to offer. The plush guitar welcomes you: it’s fuzzed out enough to welcome you into a cozy atmosphere, but sharp enough to be radio-friendly. It’s a tasteful style akin to the way record label Dirty Hit crafts the whimsy of early aughts pop for the 21st century. Even the bass and drums are simple enough to let the song’s message shine through, zeroing in on delivering as much impact as possible. The thumping of the strings marches along the frets, a catchy bassline in between the tracks that makes way for the snare drum-drenched rhythm evoking as much nostalgia as it can. The band’s capabilities of writing catchy pop are audibly from experience; their influences undeniably nestle in between the lines. As early as their first single, they know how to tweak the blueprint to match their strengths. Their written word captures the zeitgeist of what it means to date in your youth. Smoking a pack of cigarettes together, feeding cats you consider your babies, and living for nothing else but the moment. It’s a love story plucked straight from Polaroids and crumpled, handwritten letters with promises written in cursive. Sure, there are plenty of other songs that sound like this one–but their awareness of what makes a song memorable shows that they’re headed in the right direction. It’s the simplicity of their approach that easily touches the listener. “Cigarettes, beer, and stray cats…” — the lyric echoes throughout the track until its conclusion. It’s such a simple set of words, but with the way tuesday trinkets paints the scene, they end up as components of moments you’ll relive until your very last breath. With a band as capable as them when it comes to invoking sentimentality, those who like to look back have a new shoulder to cry on. Whenever things get too heavy, there’s a pack of Marlboro reds, a cold bottle of beer, and a bunch of felines waiting to rest with you. Support the art and the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: Novocrane – Safe and Sound
Written by Rory Marshall Following the release of their first single “Imaginary Party”, Bacolod’s budding rock project Novocrane doubles down on their dream pop style with their second-ever single “Safe and Sound”. Studious listeners will remember a bare-bones version of the track being teased a year ago on their Soundcloud under the name “from there,” but now it’s polished with their aesthetic that meshes indie rock and dream pop. In contrast to their first single, “Safe and Sound” takes an introspective turn and looks inward. The song tackles the conundrum of self-isolation. Kai Sevillano, the band’s lead, gives the listener a front row seat to her thought process, presenting the quandary ruminating in her mind: While one can find refuge in being alone, the suffocating demand for human connection is ever-present. The songwriting adds a layer of candidness to the words that is evocative of an anxiety-induced trail of thought and gives room to showcase her warm and intimate vocals. The vocal performance and poignant lyrics are only accentuated by the marriage of indie rock and dream pop, which is becoming a defining feature for Novocrane’s overall sound. The way the band coalesces the grungy guitar and high-attack drums with bright, glittery synths drowned in reverb creates an atmosphere of angst that will make you bob your head while you rethink your approach to relationships. In combination with Sevillano’s resonant vocal performance, it yields such a cohesive sound that it’s hard to believe that this is just their second release. “Safe and Sound,” along with their previous single “Imaginary Party,” lays a promising groundwork for the Novocrane’s growth. Their charming soundscape has once again proven to be a welcome addition to the indie scene. With this track being only their second-ever official release, fans are eager to see how they expand on this fusion of genres in future projects. Support the art and the artist: