Baguio is quickly becoming the new source of music in the Luzon archipelago, birthing the likes of Dilaw and Turncoats. From the most unexpected of places comes a new entry into the math rock/emo/pop punk ring: Amateurish. Don’t let the name fool you, they are nothing but. With tight instrumentation and relatable lyrics, the quintet hailing from the mountains of Baguio has made a name for themselves by blending elements of math, emo, and pop into an addictive sugar rush that comes with a post-rush emotional downer. A lot of math rock and pop punk influences are used throughout the album – notably in the single releases – but also some alternative and funk sprinkled in to keep the listening experience fresh, specifically in some acoustic parts in the title song towards the end. The rollercoaster of emotionscoversr a plethora of feelings such as indifference, heartbreak, depression, and resilience with heavy metaphorical drug references – each song providing an intense but quick dosage of each emotion in each song. This places the title track as a fitting end to the whole experience: a somber reminder of getting back to reality and rest. The band’s recent signing to Offshore Music is a well-deserved milestone for the band. They are currently planning a multi-stop tour to promote the release and is a no-brainer for any avid music fan; their live performances are a sight to behold. One thing is for sure, though – they are not amateurs. Support the art & the artist:
Tag: Math Rock
ALBUM REVIEW: GLASS – s/t
Written by Nikolai Dineros As 2023 comes to a close, GLASS, the silliest MAPEH rock band in town, kicks off 2024 with a new self-titled release chronicling the band’s 2-year-long songwriting journey from their 2021 EP release of the same – featuring three tracks from the album “Spice”, “Jones”, and “Buntot” – and a handful of new material, all loaded in a magazine of kinetic energy, dad jokes, millennial-passing shock value, and musical ammo. GLASS’ creative box is a confluence of blues, math rock, and post-hardcore templates, oftentimes shifting styles at unexpected turns and in sync with the band’s penchant for odd tempos and intricate rhythmic structures. The opener track “Octopus” does not try to hide this at all; a delicate intro teases the listener of the band’s tendencies to go off-kilter before going R&B-like as the verse kicks in and capping off the song in full virtuoso mode. It’s not always we get to hear these different styles blend as well as GLASS does with their songs. By the time you have finished “Octopus”, you will already have an idea of the kind of surprises GLASS has in store throughout the rest of the album, but in varying distributions of flair. For instance, “Obmerb” is a tad bit more conventional and Steely Dan-like than “Octopus” with a guitar solo more unassuming with less post-hardcore shenanigans. Tracks like “Ops” and “Buntot” embrace the blues a bit more than the others, a characteristic the local scene needs more of nowadays as artists and fans across genres have increasingly deviated from the allure of a style that once dominated the mid-2010s flavor-of-the-month genres in favor of a more ethereal sound that shoegaze presents. GLASS’ bubbly personality helps them in their compositions, and this playfulness complements the disjointedness of their tracks. But at times, it can also work to the detriment of the band. There’s a level of wit that the band employs in their songwriting that does not always land perfectly on the feet. There is this one song in the album, which I will not spoil to not ruin the experience for everyone coming into this record for the first time, that I would consider to be a perfectly acceptable song about a particular subject matter, but they kept running the same joke towards the end after it ran its course. Nothing too cringeworthy to pass on – just the kind of pure tito humor we all have a guilty pleasure for. GLASS has a treasure trove of innovative ideas, and they are not afraid of trying them all out. Most of these ideas work, a negligible few don’t. But at the core of it all, this free-spirited energy and shamelessness are traits we all ought to have, and GLASS came at a perfect time to set a year on such an exciting note. SUPPORT THE ART & THE ARTIST:
ALBUM REVIEW: Gabba – Recollections
Written by Louis Pelingen Constraints can be a demotivator towards an artist’s own journey towards creation, whether that be due to the limitations that they’ve struggled through either the environment that they’re in during a specific point of time, the collaborations with other creatives that need a specific amount of mutual understanding to follow through their output, or the sudden frustrations within one’s own capability as an artist. Because whether reasons that may be, the one thing that an artist wants as they grow older is to let go of the stirring process to create and allow that spontaneous liberties to flow through; allowing them to be at ease in every step of the creative process just to make something that still shows that they still got it. After 2 years of going through creative frustrations himself, Gabba Santiago of Instrumental post-rock and prog-rock band Deb & Gabba (FKA Tom’s Story) takes a different tact towards creating his solo debut album, where his process for collaboration and composition has a lot more free rein that allows for a lot of creative liberties. A kind of tact that treats the making of music more as an expression of Gabba’s own imaginative spirit with a lot of casual, back-and-forth exchanges with his collaborators as well as letting his creative mind do the talking when it’s time for him to make the melodies in this record. Letting spontaneous ideas bubble up rather than leaning into a calculated mode of music-making. It circulates all in ‘Recollections’ being an album that celebrates Gabba’s personal freeing joy in creating music as well as serving as a sonic diaristic journey towards his life experiences. And true to its name, the album does have a lot of blends in terms of tones, dynamics, and textures that lay into Gabba’s technical musicianship and the collaborations that helped along with the project. The Math Rock riffs and pulsating rhythms of ‘Overcurrent’ and ‘Puzzle’ swivel through the post-rock sensibilities, not breaking them apart as the added presence of synthesizers as well as Clara Benin’s vocals on a couple of songs makes a lot of those fiery guitar and drum patterns to be a lot more comforting and loose. The same thing goes for ‘Woodcraft’ with the Saxophone playing by Miguel Jimenez with its calming tone that eventually accompanies the soaring progressions in the latter half of the song, the buzzy synth tones that slide around Bea Lao’s shuffling drum work on ‘Linear’, and the frenetic drum patterns that drive around the low-key atmosphere of ‘Paradigm’. While the record presents a lot of calming soundscapes all throughout the record, Gabba also embraces a lot of progressive rock swerves that allow his joy to be immense in scope. The crashing drums and expressive guitar riffings of ‘Zoomies’ certainly do their work, especially with its brief 2-minute runtime. And the distorted guitar tones that are present on ‘Fury’ and ‘Coastline’ certainly end the record on a high note where the former song imbues the unwinding melodies with an erupting edge, all with crumbling riffs and sneering noise; the latter song sweeps the meditative melodies and mix with the echoing guitars letting out one more emotive charge just before it calms down in the end, the eventual calm after the storm. It certainly has a lot to offer given the amount of tones, collaborations, and textures that are sewn into this record and Gabba certainly had a lot of fun making this in the studio, but there are some issues that can either be distracting or underwhelming. On the former instance, it’s mostly towards the mixing of the record, where a lot of the drum and guitar fidelities can sound haphazard from track to track even if it makes sense due to the composed feel that this record is providing, but it can still be quite the frustration every time it pops up. And on the latter instance, there are certain experimentations on the additions of sound that could’ve been implemented into these songs a lot better, as some of the synth and vocal implementations are there for fleeting texture rather than adding a lot more to the melodies of these songs as well as the fuzzy drum machines that may add a different tone from the organic percussions laced throughout the record but can sound flimsy than it should be. The shorter interludes like ‘Goofy’ and ‘Layout’ don’t do much in the tracklist at all with their repeating motifs that only thin out in the end. ‘Fridge Magnets’, ‘Quiver’, and ‘Interim’ also have their weak spots, where the progressions that settle into that calming atmosphere don’t open up into intriguing transitions or switch-ups alongside texture over melody soundscapes make them sound unremarkable than the others. And then there is ‘Here Now’ where despite the presence of the keys and the electronica that tilt at the end of the song, it’s one of the instances where that lilting presence ends up being a bit more hamfisted as a result. Gabba’s solo debut is an effort that shows a lot of strengths as a result of him finding a freeing process of making music, sharing ideas with his collaborators in a much more casual manner, and letting the music be a celebration and an inspiration for himself and for others as well. It may be a collection of songs that have their high points and low points, though it also pretty much feels like reading through a diary where you’re able to see how that person is going through, joys and frustrations and all. While it is frustrating at a few spots due to the haphazard mix, meager sonic implementation, and bland melodies, to hear Gabba feeling a lot more joyous and explorative within the record through the amount of variety of sounds and styles does shine through a lot. A starting point for sure, “Recollections” is a record that’s led to its highs rather than lows. Support the art & 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: