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:
Tag: Indie Rock
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:
TRACK REVIEW: fitterkarma – Pag-Ibig ay Kanibalismo II
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:
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.