Written by Louis Pelingen If you look at the cover, the One Click Straight in the present has shifted away from the One Click Straight of the past. Their image, once observed, has always been a frustration towards the band and their overall output. In their debut album, ‘The Midnight Emotion’, they kneeled over the synthpop worship that has its significant influences from the gauzy sides of the 70s – 80s synthpop. While well-produced with its use of gauzy synth textures, the rest is nothing but a blur. It tries to resort to a ‘foolish romantic chase’ theme, but the writing itself has shunned away from instilling wonder, in that romance and the melodies themselves came off fumbling at the seams. It is interested in the aesthetics of a new romantics leaning synthpop, but never breaking free to consider morphing into something new. This flailing fascination goes to their EP in 2020, conceptualized as a sweeping set of baroque-accented songs treated with a cosmic, starry-eyed harana that goes bigger in scope: polished in its lusher arrangements and melodic chops, but letting the vocals and writing lay limp as a result. The band switched away to another transition in sound and style 5 years into their debut. They used to pull away from their Synthpop worship and replace it with Pop Rock worship; now they pull the stops as a mark of change and growth in their self-titled LP. It is swirling with a rush of energy, urgent and thrilling on the edges as the band picks up strands of Pop Rock, and Post Punk that threads itself down to a cohesive 14-track offering. Going in this direction is a good fit for the band to expand upon their sonic wheelhouse. It brings out the band’s improvements to the table regarding their writing, composition, and production in a way that feels more propulsive, focused, and immediate. “Wake Me Up” is a track evident of this, with all of its driving percussive beat and guitars amidst all the synthetic feedback, pop rock melodies that take some nods to The 1975 to great effect, and crisp vocal chops that seek to snap awake from overthinking surrounding one’s relationship and their own personal doubts. “Hahayaan” shrugs off the judgments that are propped against them, peppered with shuffling guitar strummings and snappy percussion that swarm around the chilled-out vocal melodies. “Untitled 1” opens up with percussive grooves and cycling guitar licks that accelerate and crash through as it progresses, building off a rebellious spark from those who will take the autonomy of their lives. And “Isang Kawalan” closes things off, a retreat from one’s beloved when their identity has faded. It’s a stomping closer where the crashing drums and guitar melodies pick up the rhythms as it plows through to the end. Going even further – when they do strike gold, they make out some of their best tracks to date. The quiet longing of “MRT” is a grand standout for a reason, the warmth from the solemn vocal lines is situated within an excellent chorus and the twiddling guitars and punchy drums. “Synecdoche” and its tender balladry acquaints itself with glimmering synths and calming keys, coating the melancholic loneliness and changes that permeates through the song. But beyond all of that quiet pain comes the bright presence of the lover that’s always in one’s mind, a sentiment that the song delivers wondrously. The 2010s pop rock tunings of “Untitled 2” varies itself as it incorporates some house grooves underneath, allowing the hook to pop out with the grumbling guitars. And “Gulo,” with its waving guitar progressions over the rapid drum pattern, brings enough bewilderment to the post-breakup situation of the song. It plays its bewilderment until the very end, the piano murmurs the regretful musings of the relationship. As much as the band finds their footing with this stylistic shift, they’ve embraced it to a fault that they still find themselves carrying their influences rather than carving a form that is their own. One major culprit for this is that, just like them taking huge notes on 80s synthpop in their debut, this record has a lot of rubbing off of the flagrant 90s – 2000s pop rock and post-punk stylistics that only makes the record less fascinating than it should be. “Dahan-Dahan” has its trudging groove progressions aided by the pianos that may sound thrilling at first, circulating around pacing yourself calmly amidst a world that may leave you behind. The vocal cadence and the shoutier delivery don’t have that same pumping swerve to them, leaving the song to lack any sort of wild edge to it even with the progressions trying to claw things through. “Gitna” goes to a similar issue, where the post-punk nods get rather trite with the shouty vocals and the stomping percussion and guitars. It sketches out the confusion and questions of where one’s life might lead, but the compositions don’t wrestle with themselves to make that point resonate stronger – ending up being clunky as a result. And then there is ‘Some Kind Of Girl’, an immediate dud in the record about the shy yearning towards a girl that then proceeds to put the situation in the friendzone. It’s a dull adult alternative song, paired with the obvious cloying guitar strums, processed beats, and a vocal delivery that sounds more stiff than enthralling. To dig even deeper, there is a part of the execution of these songs that makes the album frustrating to go through. As much as the production stays consistent with how the textures crumble and warp in the mix, the static rhythms of a lot of these songs make it hard to justify the 54-minute runtime of the album. It makes the album sluggish to get through, and without a big switch-up to the structure of the songs just makes things clunky and drag as a result. While the aforementioned obvious pop rock and post-punk influences hold these songs back with the progressions