Written by Louis Pelingen A Piloto’s comeback song since the past two years immediately wrestles with a shocking surprise splattered through his writing: an old friend just died near his neighborhood. The chills that he encounters through that information fill his entire nerves, wracking him with a desperate plea for connection that turns into solemn avoidance at the end. It’s emotionally haphazard that A Piloto expresses well, with his raw vocals just storming through all that tense situation. The frigid indie rock spirit allows “Asphyxia” to rhythmically heave, as the grooves just charge through with shaky guitar maneuvers that explode onto the chorus. It never loses its raucous flair from the start, up till its very ending. Foggy ambience and gentle guitar atmospherics now give enough space for A Piloto. He now gets to simmer what has come to pass, calmly taking his time to breathe before moving onwards, even with the ache still weighing on his shoulders. Support the art and the artist:
Tag: Louis Pelingen
TRACK REVIEW: mrt – all roads lead to cubao (or wherever my grave may be instead)
Written by Louis Pelingen What would inevitably become an interesting talking point later down the line is how the next generation – in this case, the Gen Alphas – will eventually carve their paths through a lot of the music spaces thriving right now. While it is early to say how they will respond and evolve past the local indie and mainstream music zeitgeists, observing how they’d touch upon the sounds and tones to assess their craft is enough to look into. At least for the time being. Case in point, the past few releases that 15 year old mrt has released last year immediately pull a lot of the alternative rock and screamo influences – think acts like Sintasan, North Sentinel, and Walktrip – that swerved into lo-fi, raw fidelities. Those two EPs – ‘hermosa’ and ‘bokeh’ – certainly tiptoed towards those tones, from mrt’s attempts to sing and scream across shambling production, to post-breakup wallowing that is peppered across his lyrics. Now, what “all roads lead to cubao (or wherever my grave may be instead)” does is sharpen his melodic instincts amidst an exercise in dynamics. It starts off with a lilting guitar passage contrasted with his composed screams, then the song breaks out into fuzzed-out shoegaze while mrt leans more on moodier singing. It effectively reinforces the emo-tinged emptiness that is buried in this track. All in all, mrt still has ways to go before he eventually hammers down the strengths in his songcrafting, yet the intrigue to do a bit more in this song does show some promise. The projects that he has currently pulled off might not blow things away, especially with how the alt-rock and hardcore scenes have only developed into fascinating nooks and crannies; there’s nothing wrong with testing things out. At the very least, he’s familiarizing himself by trying, and that’s good enough for now. Support the art and the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: Kumare Harvey – VILLAIN
Written by Louis Pelingen After years of hosting in queer circles as well as frequently featuring on certain songs across other artists’ projects, Kumare Harvey’s debut single, ‘VILLAIN,’ is nothing short of astute. Across the neptunes-esque beat with burly guitars adding edge to his bars, Kumare Harvey lets everyone know first and foremost that he’s not one to be played around. He takes down those who try to talk shit and villainize him, but can only go so far as saying it online. He never softens down throughout; his attitude remains confident all across. Of course, it’s through Kumare Harvey’s performance that sells such a bombastic song, with a clear-cut delivery, an efficient flow, and a swaggering energy that struts with ease. His overall magnetic presence gives the song its glorious punches, especially to those who might try to pull him downwards and fail in miserable fashion. Haters gonna hate, as they all say. Support the art and the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: To Love Everything Ever Again – A Post-Overdose Confession
Written by Louis Pelingen One main element that tends to surround religious music is its focus on devotion, where praises will be written and sung as a means to allow God’s blessings to reach within the human spirit–a characteristic that becomes a purposeful motif. Generally focused on that universal feeling of letting the holy grace of God seep into every individual singing those songs. Yet, what tends to be rather uncommon is writing religiously themed songs less from a devotional standpoint, but more of a personal confession. A peek inside vulnerability that grounds the religious experience, isolating itself to the individual going through the ups and downs that they encounter throughout their lives. Through Janpol Estella’s solo project, To Love Everything Ever Again, he emphasizes that fractured religious experience. Compiling waves of glitchy synths, hazy vocal effects, and chamber pop flourishes to envelop stories of fluctuating faith with weight. If his debut EP, ‘Nineveh,’ wades upon murky waters, then his debut album, ‘A Post-Overdose Confession,’ swims through it. It’s a case of delving deeper into that struggling abyss, where he confronts his religious fervor as mental health, addiction, and environmental decay become a factor of how he tries – and crashes apart – on holding onto that spiritual belief. Clinging onto it so hard for a hopeful path to come forward as he tries to remind himself of dreams he wants to achieve, until he finds out that it doesn’t come through so easily. This crushing arc eventually hits its hardest point on the title track and “Nothing But The Blood.” Both songs hit rock bottom as any sliver of peace is very much gone, but how Estella portrays God and Jesus becomes important here. God is this divine being that he thinks has given up on him and becomes the cause of the pain inflicted upon him, and Jesus is this human person whose own struggles he can relate to, and even may be a symbol of light that he could still hold onto. It’s why, despite the rewritten hymn of the latter song describing the ragged acceptance of all that pain that has fractured his faith, hope, and soul, Jesus’ presence becomes a metaphor. A symbol of a peaceful exhale that can allow him to eventually heal. This narrative perspective colors how the instrumentation and production are presented. Glitchy electronics now shamble across dance-adjacent rhythms, seething vocal effects and synths are implemented to amplify Estella’s emotional throughline, and the brighter chamber pop elements are carefully placed down with intent. An expansion and emphasis of tones that straddle between the lines of bliss and ache, a direction that firmly exposes Estella’s captivating experimental swerving in two lanes. The first is how the glitchier rhythms across “My Own Sodom” to “Need to Control” become curiosities that don’t land their fullest strides. Opening up more melodic flair, yet lacks a strong enough hook to keep it sticking altogether. The second is how leaning into those synthetic tones and focused melodic flourishes only makes Estella’s songwriting hit like heavy bricks. The scorching distortion clipped around his voice and electronic embellishments on “COP30 (Never Enough)” let his emotions become devastatingly crumbled, bursting out of the seams with every refrains; the stirring one-two punch of the fluttering raw piano recordings of “Perhaps” that transitions to the crackling synth affectations of “A Post-Overdose Confessions” becomes a quaint reflection turning evocatively solemn; the punchier drums on ‘Unreachable Serenity” contrast well around violin swells and gauzy textures; the post-rock swerve of ‘Nothing But The Blood’ that ramps up its melodic prowess, eventually going all out with the blast beats and guitar solos that revs Estella’s version of the hymn to a different level. All of it resting down to the spare organ tune of “God, I’m finally letting this go.” Ending the album where, perhaps, Estella has found that light once more. What ‘A Post-Overdose Confession’ unveils is an exploration of faith that was broken but can still be recovered, all through Estella’s ways to amplify the stories that felt more personal to him in the long run. Testing the waters on how he can deliver such emotional scope, and landing with it the most striking way possible, fractures and all. A confession as a means to accept the feeling of giving up entirely, until that light starts showing up in the darkness, where hope can blossom once again. Support the art and the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: orteus – Deersong
Written by Louis Pelingen After their mixtape last year, orteus isn’t yet done crafting more music. “Deersong” lands on the very first day of January 2026, serving as the lead single for their upcoming debut album, which is charged with delightful experimentation. The drums gallop rhythmically over sweet vocals, soothing soundscapes, and rumbling bass notes that create a whirring experience, yet keep the overall melodies clear enough to be heard, gratifyingly landing the explosive bombast that comes up at the end of the song. The overwhelming nature still persists within its structure, taking more time to simmer before it finally clicks. But through the refinement in mixing balance and expanded curiosity in sound textures, ‘Deersong’ lays down a path that is worth following down the line. Potentially having more surprises that end up with us becoming like deer in the headlights. Support the art and the artist:
SOUNDS OF THE SEA: Asunojokei (Japan)
Within the populated stretches of Tokyo, Japan, lies the flood of acts and bands that start by crafting music, pursuing their own identity that continues to grow year by year. Coming from such a place is a band named Asunojokei, a four-piece blackgaze band that was formed back in 2014. Takuya Seki (bassist), Kei Toriki (guitarist), and Seiya Saito (drummer) were close friends since their teenage years, only meeting up with their vocalist, Daiki Nuno, through social media after watching a video of him covering a Converge song. Since then, they stuck together, starting their musical journey that will continue to break their limits. While they started with a two-track demo release back in 2015, it is through their first EP in 2016, ‘A Bird in the Fault,’ that informs the start of what soundscape, melodic tone, and writing style they’ll keep building up into. Howling screams; pummeling streaks of blackgaze, post-hardcore, and other metal stripes; and numbed melancholic poetry are immediately attached to this band’s palette. Songs like “Silent Tears” go through their post-metal motions with these solemn guitars, just before Nuno starts shrieking and the wail of blast beats and stormy riffs that come afterward. And “Easy” tips the line within depressive black metal, most notably with the gloomy first few minutes, cultivating this downbeat atmosphere that continues getting more cavernous and stinging. Two years later, their 2018 debut album, ‘Awakening’, amplifies what the band showcased beforehand and expands upon melodic prowess that caters to more potent songcrafting, with writing that consists of pushing past dour emotions despite feeling hopeless and lonely within a momentous city. Leaner cuts like “Double Quotation Mark” and “Ugly Mask” indulge within thunderous black metal passages on the former and shimmering rock tones on the latter, carving out Nuno’s ability towards spoken word, singing, and screaming. “Bashfulness of the Moon” and “Thin Ice” maximize their post-rock structures to a different level, where lilting cooldowns lead to explosive blackgaze turmaturges, with Nuno sounding guttural and snappy in his wails. After releasing a couple of EPs throughout 2019 and 2020, they eventually took a bit more time before putting together ‘Island’, their sophomore record, which took a different direction in the way they compose their tunes. Said direction comes in the manner of implementing J-rock progressions to their post-hardcore and blackgaze roots, a blend of sound that this band manages to synergize in a big way. “Chimera” and “Diva Under The Blue Sky” simultaneously sound harrowing and magnetic all at once, bleary riffs and crushing screams become a bit brighter amid the accompanying J-rock melodies. There is happiness and company that’s worth looking forward to: A sign of forward momentum that is essential to the album’s songwriting, gently realizing that, despite the internal gloom that the protagonist is overwhelmed by. That is not to say the straightforward blackgaze tones are left behind, as cuts like “The Forgotten Ones” and “The Sweet Smile of Vortex” sound more ferocious with the band’s refinement across production and songcrafting. Nuno’s howls and spoken word are crushing and emotive as ever, clawing across frigid blast beats and melodic crescendos that kept building up into a punchy resolution. A characteristic that carries the momentum of this album from front to back, allowing compositions to sound heftier and stickier than ever. The seeds that came from that specific direction paved the path to their recent record this year, ‘Think of You’. Even moving further into that J-rock and J-Pop influences and leaning more into concise melodic structures, formulating a shorter, winter-themed album where the production and composition refinements are on full display. Said influences overall strengthen their signature blackgaze and post-hardcore bread-and-butter, crystallizing phenomenal melodic earworms that this band lands with gusto. “Magic Hour,” “Angel,” and “Stella” are invigorating as it is showstopping, with Nuno pulling out all the power into screams and the rest of the band pulling off dazzling melodic throughlines. “Dogma” still shows that, despite going in this direction, the band doesn’t forget their roots, with that blackgaze wall of sound combusts through its roaring riffs. So does the rampant rhythms of “In The City Where Cobalt Falls” with the soaring guitar passages and blast beats piercing through the skies. This level of vigor proceeds to how frosty and brighter the album sounds, a tone that complements the yearning, thoughtful sensibilities that are plastered on its songwriting. Always finding hope and confidence, an uplifting energy that echoes through “The Farewell Frost” and “Tomorrow is Your Day”. Utilizing gleaming atmospherics, cavernous vocals, and fiery compositions to drive that tender optimism higher. With each passing record, Asunojokei keeps flapping their wings and gradually crafting their own unique identity amidst Japan’s historic background towards its circulation of black metal and post-hardcore bands. Never leaving behind what they used to be in the past, just taking new steps to find a space that is their own. With an optimistic thoughtfulness being embraced that keeps shining brighter, the way that they’re going is up, flooding the skies with howls that put everyone awake.
SOUNDS OF THE SEA: Mary Sue (Singapore)
The hip-hop scene in Singapore only continues to grow with every passing moment. Groups such as Construction Sight, Triple Noize, and Urban Xchange marked their impact in the 90s and the 2000s, yet it took quite some time before the culture flourished throughout the country. In the 2010s, more artists such as Akeem Jahat, Yung Raja, THELIONCITYBOY, ShiGGA Shay, and Masia One eventually made their name in the mainstream, carrying and shaping what is there to be shown in Singapore’s Hip-Hop space. Once the 2020s hit the surface, there came an artist who struck an abstract niche within the underground. Due to the isolation brought back in the pandemic, Siew Png Sim – with his love for acts like MIKE, Earl Sweatshirt, MF DOOM, and Navy Blue – dons the Mary Sue moniker and starts to illustrate his sound. Rougher beats, decisive flows, and pensive storytelling are the name of the game. He slowly shaped those foundations through EPs across 2020 to 2021. Those EPs are just a preparation for what he will be putting out since then. In 2022, he dropped his debut record, ‘KISSES OF LIFE’. Here, Mary Sue, alongside the insane row of producers and features across the world, establishes his creative tendencies in full as he lets loose personal experiences of grief and recovery, wading through the loss of his grandfather and the struggle with his grandmother’s dementia. It’s a reflection with memories that pulls him back and pushes him forward, swirling around production that’s simultaneously light and dark. “Moving On!” and “Spirits/Name” stretch out samples to a distressingly glitchy degree, whilst “Cavalry” and “Paper Generals” stall in muted but lighter beats. A juxtaposition that Mary Sue’s weathered delivery passes through without any trouble at all, like a conflicted spirit going through shades of grey. The following year sees him expound on his creative streak, with three albums that were released within a few months of each other. ‘For Sure’ replaces abstract collages with tangible instruments, a backdrop that soothes the ragged introspection he evokes in his bars. ‘OK!’ follows suit, a collaborative effort with other South East Asian beatmakers and musicians (Cravism, ABANGSAPAU, etc) to construct a breezier record, adorned with boom bap and pop rap to set the vibe. In contrast, Mary Sue’s collaboration with UK producer Psychedelic Ensemble flips into experimental territory on ‘CACOPHONOUS DIGRESSIONS, A RECORD OF MOMENT IN TIME,’ where the beats blare and crackle in every space, yet never smother Mary Sue’s presence on the microphone. His constant work ethic is showcased even further through the “Voice Memos” releases that he pushes out, where even in the midst of traveling to a foreign place, his knack for writing never stops. Recording 2022’s ‘VOICE MEMOS ACROSS A COUPLE BODIES OF WATER’ when he was in New York City for two weeks, and 2024’s ‘Voice Memos From A Winter In China’ when he was on a winter tour in China with Singaporean jazz quintet, Clementi Sound Appreciation Club. His wandering thoughts during those times are now encapsulated within these projects, containing a well of memories that he’ll cherish long-term. 2025 is an important year that shows Mary Sue’s growth as an overall artist. With the help of the Clementi Sound Appreciation Club, these two forces managed to craft a unique spirit that shines within Mary Sue’s overall discography, ‘Porcelain Shield, Paper Sword’. In comparison with most of his works thus far, he wields a keen disposition behind live instrumentation, a distinction that propels Mary Sue’s performances and lyric-making to the next level. Diverting away from his influences and embracing a style that he can call his own. The album’s major perspective on a time-traveling oracle observing the ambiguous and chaotic histories of the world is greatly reflected in the writing and sound that informs this character concept. Mary Sue’s observant insight and assured delivery resonate with the Clementi Sound Appreciation Club’s burnished melodic contributions. Gentle acoustics nimble across spare horns and keys of ‘Thief and the Bell’, creating serenity curtaining the ignorant thief who stole from the village. Rumbling guitars and drums are emphasized on ‘Haste’ and ‘Minesweeper’, creating stabs of heaviness that unveil the violence unspooling past centuries. ‘Horse Acupuncture’ is swallowed up with haunting gongs around burly guitar passages, fitting Mary Sue, Agung Mango, and Nakama.’s observations of people who are shunned by those who get to control the perception of others. With the release of this record, it only shows Mary Sue on an upward stream; his craft within Singapore’s underground hip-hop only gets more acknowledgement and refinement. His grounded experiences only give him more to speak about, a hopeful presence that shines amidst the swarm of darkness that surrounds him. With his newfound sword and shield equipped, his thoughtful wisdom leads to wider ground being shown, then gradually explored with a taut mindset.
EP REVIEW: Unflirt – Fleeting
Written by Louis Pelingen The story of how Unflirt, the stage name of Christine Senorin, started is pinpointed within the universal isolation of the lockdown. With her guitar in hand, she eventually proceeded to write and sing down her thoughts. Moments of flickering romance are contained within her 2023 EPs, ‘Bitter Sweet’ and ‘April’s Nectar’, which reflect Unlfirt’s sonic identity: cozy folk acoustics and shimmering indie pop that nestle around her girlish coos, with enough melodic sharpness to lend her presence some weight and tact. Despite solidifying that she is still warming up, there is potency to be located in those EPs. ‘Fleeting’ is yet another step to Unflirt’s growing aptitude as a musician. Written during her time spent in parts of London, LA, and Brazil, there is a maturity that she has undergone through her writing. Her reflection not only comes through in dealing with a long-distance relationship, but also in processing time and distance itself. Something that she now values even further in her life, grasping its ever-changing flow and factoring that in how she writes. The yearning she carries from past EPs is still retained, but she now considers the sifting presence of time passing by on her mind. In terms of overall compositions, there is also some progress in finding polish and expansion, adding more atmospheric and instrumental detail that, for the most part, flatter Unflirt’s soft vocals well. “Sea Song” carries some of that bedroom pop sheen, with textured programmed drums complementing some sharper guitars. “Sweet Sweet Time” and “Something Familiar” are lilting as it is tasteful, with the former’s pulpy grooves amid gentle strums and the latter’s string accents weaving around folksy effervescence. “Next To You” is a welcome addition to Unflirt, this blistering pop-rock tune that could have been made back in the late ’90s, all brimming with glimmering melodies backed by riffs that flare and echo throughout the song. However, just like with those past EPs, Unflirt is still in a position where she is continuing to find her own space amidst the frankly prevalent array of pop acts that are following adjacent soft, hushed vocal styles and glossy pop-rock tones. There may be forward motion in her writing and refinement in production this time around, but she is still finding her own groove amidst the overall sound. Trying to grip the wheel and see where she can steer with full confidence. ‘Fleeting’ is an apt title for the current state that Unflirt is configuring. An acknowledgement of time and distance that affects parts of her life, where she is now trying to move forward and consciously consider how they will change her wholeheartedly. Yet it is also a reflection of the songs that, at best, Unflirt have shown more promise and end up sticking, and, at worst, become too familiar and pass by. Support the art and the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: Djuno – Moonrats
Written by Louis Pelingen What is fascinating about acts that produce music in their bedroom or home studio is the limitation that comes with it: they rely on spare equipment, the ideas in their head, and the sheer will to put something out while letting the raw essence of their music come to life. A common occurrence these days, especially once you dig into a site like Bandcamp, but there are times when the music that was made is filled with intriguing ideas, both in the composition and the writing. Formed through a 10-year-old rusty MacBook, their love for rats, and their set of guitars, koto, and violins, Djuno spawns ‘Moonrats,’ a record that tousles within homespun spaces, tapping into indietronica, folk, and alternative rock that is cobbled together by Djuno’s dedication to create something out of their resources. Creating ramshackled compositions that their voice plays into really well, sounding like a singer-songwriter that came out of the ’90s. “Maura Crushed” plays into this in a straightforward direction, with fingerpicked guitars nestling their bare vocals within a coddling atmosphere. But things get interesting once Djuno starts toying around with production. Modifying their voice to sound more blurry, synths and samples chop off or pop into the mix, playing with the mixing in sync with the lyrics; an intended effect that adds more across Djuno’s well-considered melodies and performances. “Beak” comes through with gentle strings and acoustics, but gets sonically interjected everytime they proceed to a certain phrase; “Mentol Song, Dead Horse” submerges into indie rock rubble before letting the synths take over, their voice always shifting throughout, same case goes for “Otkah” that wades across a raw start accompanied by a digital organ, a burly guitar passage that cuts off into choppy vocal stutters, just before ending things off with a string section; “Slump” takes things on a off-kilter segway, layering spare melodies on top of this uneasy text to speech audio, until noisy guitars rupture and then interestingly sampled to tie the song together; and “Prarie Dogs” finishes the record with its 8-minute climax, starting with simple acoustics gradually going through its rush of highs and lows, implementing pummeling drums, wheeling violins, and boiling riffs along the way. The intent for the mix eventually pinpoints their conflicting identity with Mina that stirs within their writing. Djuno’s love for singer-songwriters—inspirations such as Elliott Smith or Cameron Winter definitely show in spades—shines through in how they write words and phrases, filling the arc with macabre imagery on one hand and metaphors that flow with absence and emotional decay. It’s a characteristic that keeps following Djuno and Mina, where at first, the shift in voices interprets who is singing. The bare vocals represent Djuno, and the processed vocals come from Mina. A back and forth in trying to separate from one another and travel to a place where Djuno and Mina can be safe and sound. Yet, in reading between the lines, it becomes clear that Djuno and Mina are the same person. Mentions of reflections and limbs make it clear enough: a push-and-pull between identities that care deeply and who push themselves down. It creates the eventual insight where they can’t separate one another because they need each other. To be Djuno or Mina doesn’t matter; what’s important to them is to be elsewhere. Never lying dormant in one space, the process of leaving for somewhere unknown can be scary, but worthwhile. They do have themselves in the end, after all. With this much thought, it lights up ‘Moonrats’ with so much detail that’s worth looking into, where every bit and piece across its songwriting, sonic palette, and performances become purposeful as a whole. Despite still carrying the singer-songwriter inspirations that can still be refined upon, there’s no denying that Djuno has something going for it in the long run, even despite their initial struggles that come from working on the album on a decade-old MacBook. Just like the moonrat, it may be easy to catch what’s going on, but listen closely, and you’ll find more rawness that’s worth looking into. SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST: Moonrats by djuno
TRACK REVIEW: geiko – No Way Now
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: