There’s a lot to process in “Jargon State” – the debut EP of alternative-rock and indie-folk solo act Toots. For listeners, this may sound like the typical coming-of-age project in the form of a Donnie Darko-inspired backdrop. For Toots, it’s not easy being green; He embraces his own worth, the age that he’s in, and the surroundings that engulf the sonic palette throughout the EP as well. It’s as rewarding as it is an adventure to course through. “Jargon State” is a five-track debut EP worth keeping. Written and recorded during the periodic times of searching for himself in a strong emotional tidal wave; it’s either during the search for a peace of mind or wrestling against a bigger force. But in “Jargon State”, Toots has proven himself lyrically otherwise that it’s okay to let things sit, gradually waiting for the storm to turn into a calmer state of mind. From the alienation themes of closer “Jargon State” to the angsty dissatisfaction of the stellar opener of “Fall”, there’s a lot to pick up in terms of production and instrumental choices in this project. In “Hide and Seek”, the loud-quiet-loud dynamic has found a perfect balance; Acoustic guitars morphing into a heavier, more robust electric guitar. In “Memory is a Trap”, you have the intensifying yet gentle accompaniment of the protagonist’s vocals and his trusty guitar, “Shell” and its pop structure make you lift your spirits at an all time high. Toots’ varying levels of vocal delivery are the obvious highlights through and through. But on the surface level, the relationship between the instrument and the artist are its greatest assets in “Jargon State”. As you listen to the EP more, you’ll start to notice that he has triumphantly submitted several acts of catharsis whether it would be distorted vocals, plucked sections of intimacy and synths weaving across a verse filled with several trains of thoughts. “Jargon State” has all whatever variables of intimacy you can find in an indie-rock record. There’s vulnerability than there is shattering, off-putting states of emotion. A resolution with a fine-tuned ending. A heroes’ redemption arc with the added human, adulting themes. Carved like Ben Gibbard but determined like a Built to Spill narrator, Toots is in his own league in his debut outing. Support the art & the artist:
Tag: Indie Rock
DEMO REVIEW: cheeky things – demo
In the local DIY community today, Metro Manila outfit cheeky things arrived in the first quarter of 2023. Their URL story started with a Soundcloud page – a lone Duster parody – and a couple of noise pop covers. The five-piece follows suit to the IRL, championing a tweemo backdrop with the help of their indie guitar heroes in live shows. And for a band that has been teasing their WIPs ever since the release of their little “demo” two months ago — by the way, a Bicol tour is already set in stone at this point — one would expect at this stage that a full-on record should be ripe for the picking. But hey, we now have a three-track demo, and it is packed to the brim with loud, grungy guitars, high-tempo drums, and the dreamy sensibilities that are commonplace in any track. But while this project certainly has all the makings of an EP, it is still a personal dilemma to me whether or not to make heads or tails of it as it is — a demo — and base my judgment of it on what it is, what it could be, or what it could have been. For the uninitiated, this demo is a gateway. The seemingly compact demo is a sonically massive 3-track project to look out for. It is raw, absolutely balls-to-the-walls, and unapologetically alternative. I would even be remiss not to mention how the oversaturation of the shoegaze-twee-alt-rock fusion bands writ large has made it all the more difficult for cheeky Things to come through as their own, but the result of which made the success of this release all the more commendable, and eventually carved a niche that is proudly one of their own. For the listeners who have listened to their plethora of influences and sensibilities, fans of the garage sound are in for a treat: tracks like “korean blackout curtains 7ft (1 pc, not set)”, a noise-rock anthem that has cemented its place as a favorite amongst the Manila alternative crowd, is Mellon Collie down to a T, and has a phenomenal intro that will transport you back to a time when you first listened to Psycho Candy. The song’s outing also meant the first for the band to incorporate Tagalog in their lyrics, making it an easy sell for many. While “smashing” on the other hand, while not as talked about, features some of the best dynamics between each member. Whatever your thoughts on this release, this cheeky Things demo serves as a litmus test for both the artist and the listener. In its current state, whether finished or unfinished, you either get it or you don’t. And even if you do, there’s still a lot to unpack in its heavily loaded arsenal; it does not hinder itself from pushing the noise level past its threshold. And who knows, maybe we have not seen the last of these songs and if we’ll still be as (un)accepting of them as they are now once we’ve witnessed them in their final form. But enough speculation. As far as I’m concerned, I passed the litmus test. Support the art & the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: Toneejay – Parang Magic
Written by Elijah P. Since 2021, solo singer-songwriter Toneejay has gone through different phases: beginning in the trip-hop lockdown apocalypse of a debut concept album Odyssey and a woeful slowcore-folk of Kasama Kita. Now the Pasig-based artist has switched gears in “Parang Magic” – a loosie based on leather jackets, fun green screen shenanigans, and meaty instrumentals that mix either the Phoebe’s “Kyoto” or The Strokes’ “Reptilia.” But neither tracks mentioned are a reboot. Instead, this is Toneejay’s very own world of having fun, and we’re just living in it. In this day and age of making a love song, you need to have faith by your side. That’s already a given, but what lacks most love songs today is a tight instrumental to solidify your sonic strength whilst summoning old habits of lovestruck lyricism. This goes hand in hand with some bands, but Toneejay seemed to make things work with subtly code-switching and driving bass lines along trademark falsettos throughout “Parang Magic”. Coming from solemn pieces of music in past material to upping the tempo in moshpit mode, Toneejay’s temporary departure in sound is a sign of growth; the quieter guitar parts from yesteryear have found its way through the distortion pedal, a slider, and heavy snare drums, sticking the landing evenly with the jolly tone Toneejay embarks after making the sonic leap. Overall, “Parang Magic” works wonders even in its most skeletal parts, the track still works even without the potent instrumental. I guess it works like actual magic. Support the art & the artist:
EP REVIEW: LORY – Cramped
Written by Elijah P. Terno Recording’s wunderkind Lory has stepped out of his comfort zone from being a lone bedroom pop producer from Parañaque to becoming a full blown three-piece with added layers in the mix. In his latest EP “Cramped”, you get to see Mikee Mendoza becoming more lethargic-sounding, scooping all the gruff and making his surroundings a bit louder, albeit a bit rougher than usual. He’s grown to unlike the pop fluff and embrace much of the textures. It’s almost getting there, it just needs a little stir in the pot. In other words, Lory and his friends just need a little bit of spoiled choices in soundscapes rather than choose to spoil the party entirely in reflection of past material. “Cramped” is treated as a sampler to Mikee’s next endeavors for his solo project rather than a bookend to his phase of city pop. Moving on to greater and bigger soundscapes rather than staying in the four corners of his room, you have tracks like “Huli Na Ba Kayo”, “Di Siguro” and “The Sun” embracing all the noise and continuously experimenting what he can do as a musician. Is the EP an “achievement” of sorts? Listeners would doubt its pop resonance and bright textures and would possibly question its length, but “Cramped” is more of an intentional practice of sorts. In “Slow Down”, you’ll be surprised by how this sounds like it should stay from the previous EP. Confidence is what is lacking in Mikee’s presence and maybe a bit of a looser and more liberating use of vocal filters to make Mikee’s voice shine as well as his lead guitars. But as his deadpan delivery persists in the latter half of the EP, the voice becomes a grower in a sense where Mikee’s voice does shine if you look at it in a more uncharismatic-charismatic lens. LORY’s “Cramped” has its ups and downs but to the project’s benefit, the reception is enough to not dismiss the project entirely for the lack of trying and enthusiasm being brought. There are guitar lines and synths being put to good use and maybe “Cramped” is seen better as Mikee’s ground zero compared to what the debut project was at the dawn of the post-lockdown last year. Support the art and the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: OH, FLAMINGO! – PAGTANDA
Written by Nikolai Dineros A friend of mine once said, “Oh, Flamingo! is the definitive OPM band of this age.” It’s a thought that has since been stuck at the peripheries of my brain. I wonder if my friend was onto something or if it was just the alcohol talking. Oh, Flamingo! was at a critical juncture at the time: the release of their sophomore EP Volumes saw the band deviating from the brazen, indie-textured 2000s pop-rock sound in favor of a trippier, more visceral psychedelic rock motif — something up the alleys of the titos and titas. While it might not have been the cup of tea of every Oh, Flamingo! fan at the time, Volumes was a welcoming treat. I left the record thinking that the band was cooking something up for their first full-length release. And they did, but not in the way that I had anticipated. Enter Pagtanda, Oh, Flamingo!’s first full-length album, and their most introspective release yet. What I thought to be the band’s culmination of their seven-year run of wacky concepts and sonic experimentations turned out to be a recollection of the human pathos, funneled by the members’ own experiences expressed through song. On the surface, Pagtanda is their most straightforward record to date. It carries heavily from its mid-’70s to ‘90s influences — the Manila sound — and proudly wears it on its sleeves. The guitars are more subdued this time around, which gave more room for the keyboards and the brass sections to shine, but guitarists Pappu de Leon and Howard Luistro still have their moments every now and then. Drummer Pat Sarabia and bassist Billie Zulueta (who also took on a more active role as a singer) are still the strong backbones of the band, often providing that trademark groove from which the other members get their momentum. The songs on Pagtanda are more downtrodden than they have ever been for the band. At times, they even get existential with the lyrics as they chronicle every point of loss and regret as one trudges the early stages of adulthood. The opening track “Makina” takes you on a trip down anxiety lane, away from the mundanity of life. In “Na Naman”, Howard and Billie sing of the shame and resentment a person would feel from being trapped in the vicious cycle of a toxic relationship. “Sa Totoo Lang” deals with a lot of heavy stuff — inner struggles, fear of the unknown, and coming to terms with one’s mortality. It also sounds like a proper OPM anthem in the ‘90s. How so, I’m not sure myself. Batang ‘90s lang nakakaalam! (I am Gen-Z) “Pag-ibig Lang Ba,” for how off-kilter its riff gets, posits a philosophical question many young adults have probably come across at least once in their lives. “Galit” is a personal favorite of mine. I couldn’t count how many times I have bobbed my head to its bubbly ‘70s funk groove and Pappu’s excellent riffage while humming about contempt and betrayal. A mood. But for how bleak some of these moments are in Pagtanda, it never felt out of place. Nothing from Oh, Flamingo!’s limited but already colorful discography has. “Sigurado” is a teaser track memorable not only for capturing the Manila sound’s sweetest pop sensibilities but also for what it stands for. The song is a love letter to our fur babies and their strong bond with their respective hoomans. The lyrics will surely tug your heartstrings if you haven’t heard it yet (Seriously, why? You’re missing out!). And while you’re at it, share this tune with your lola. Tell her you’re welcome. Pagtanda is a record of self-reflection and change. Stylistically, the album is Oh, Flamingo’s most toned-down. It was not the return to form to the eponymous EP or the evolution of Volumes I had anticipated from a band my friend thought of as “definitive OPM”. Rather, Pagtanda is the enclosure Oh, Flamingo! needed to complete their trifecta of artistic growth — from ambitious beginnings to wild, deviant phases, and to a tranquil point of maturity. This three-record run is a framework that encapsulates the human experience, and Oh, Flamingo! nailed the ending perfectly with Pagtanda. This is not to say the band should stop making more albums to ruin this excellent run. But if there is a legacy they can leave behind, it is their diverse catalogue of songs capturing the OPM sound that stands as an impetus to the experiences many can relate to, regardless of age and circumstance. Also, I think my friend was a genius all along. Support the art & the artist: