Written by Faye Allego Once known as No Lore (and no, not because they lacked one), members and visual artists Tita Halaman, Kim Escalona, and Carole Lantican begun crafting their audio framework that gained recognition for entry at the 36th AWIT awards and then reintroduced themselves as NEW LORE in late 2024 where they amped up their vibrancy and utilised every facet of multimedia to showcase their art — especially upon the release of their debut album, Grief Cake. In their latest 2026 single, “Substack Girl,” the tools to a catchy post-breakup song are definitely there; the muffled instrumentals in the first twelve seconds immediately place the listener into a flashback-esque soundscape and looming afterthoughts during the “scheming” period of a breakup. However, lyrics that circle around that question of “do you still…?” land steep, surface-level, and flat. The song fixates on specific habits that have even been harmfully labelled as “performative” such as going to gigs, reading obscure literature, digging through ukayans; “And are you still A gig goer? Art fair lover? Film enjoyer? Thrift store lover Vinyl seeker? Poetry reader? Soul Admirer Joybaiter?” it begs the question: is this just a checklist of interests turned into buzzwords? Though it’s light-hearted, it’s also reductionist toward real parts of someone’s identity. To reiterate, sonically, the track does almost everything right. It is indeed catchy, cleanly mastered, and even performs well in relaxing. To add, listening to this track in low-stress environments is surely fun and enjoyable; it can even be what’s now called reaching a “flow state.” Even the music video for “Substack Girl” is quite mellow. It’s the three-piece switching seats for the duration of the track, symbolizing the tranquillity found in the curiosity that the lyrics attempt to highlight. Of course, people wonder about their exes even through a rose-colored lens or through vibrant colors similar to that of PVC film– the song is very real when it comes to breakup talk, as the listener, it prompts wandering and questioning whether or not an ex thinks about their former lover… but at the same time, as the colors mix and turn grey after a few rounds of listening to the track… does it matter if an ex is thinking about us while reading poetry or flipping through vinyl? “Substack Girl” is a feel-good track, and New Lore’s discography is certainly one to keep an eye out for. Though they are not the first to utilize the commodification of personality and art to garner interest, they should refrain from that notion if they want to maintain relevance; like breakups, negative attitudes towards identity must learn to eventually fade away. Perhaps New Lore has breakup songs mastered– may they view introspection through art more in depth next time. Support the art and the artist:
Tag: NEW LORE
ALBUM REVIEW: NEW LORE – grief cake
Written by Gabriel Bagahansol In late 2024, the band formerly known as No Lore released its final single under that name: a cover of Callalily’s 2006 classic “Magbalik” transformed into epic synthpop. Towards the end of the track, we hear frontwoman Tita Halaman deliver a rap verse on letting go of a troubled past and moving forward, adding an element of progression to a song of someone hopelessly saving what’s left of a dysfunctional relationship. By this point, No Lore was at a crossroads. Their music seemed tangled between the band’s roots as a guitar-based indiepop duo—and the organic but staid identity that comes with it—and a whole new lineup as a trio moving towards something else. With new creative impulses that appear to be at odds with the limiting nature of the band’s origins, letting go was something Tita Halaman, along with new members Kim and Carole, needed to do in order for them to fully embrace the ethos they now want to embody in their art. With a crashing crescendo that petered out into synth tones and beeps, No Lore was no more. Eight months later, after subsequently re-emerging as the electropop band NEW LORE, the three-piece would release their debut album ‘grief cake.’ Now operating from a clean slate, the members of NEW LORE paint glossy electropop soundscapes across this new batch of songs. The bright synths and saturated textures illuminate Tita Halaman’s straightforward and dynamic lyricism on navigating adulthood and its many tricks while drawing strength from the sincerity and frankness of one’s inner child. If the “Magbalik” cover was the death and burial of something that had run its course, the opening track “OH MATURITY” is the first step in rebuilding oneself. Free from the limited palette No Lore’s artistic identity afforded, the music bursts with a renewed sense of energy, as though a floodgate had been opened for a creative catharsis that is heard all throughout the album. That’s not to say there aren’t any growing pains, though: while Tita Halaman is eager to reflect on her past and become more optimistic and self-aware in her relationships, in the chorus, she laments the slow pace of these changes. On the breezy synthpop track “LOVING, HURTING,” Tita Halaman acknowledges that love can last in the belief that people can move past the mistakes they’ll inevitably make to each other. With the sound of a band that has immediately succeeded in working with their new sound, these two songs are a welcome introduction into the world of NEW LORE. NEW LORE’s embrace of electropop means they can now let the music add dimension to the stories they tell. On “DIRTY” and “GOODSIDES,” a pair of songs that tell contrasting views on trust and acceptance, the instrumentation is clear, dynamic, and colorful. This new approach helps us get a glimpse inside Tita Halaman’s mind as she tells these tales, particularly on “GOODSIDES,” where sweeping synths swell over an R&B beat that intensifies her wail of disappointment over someone she thought she knew well. Another example of the chemistry of words and sound that NEW LORE successfully blends throughout this album is “TRAFFIC,” where minor and major keys weave together as Tita Halaman sings about dancing to the radio with a lover while stuck in a traffic jam. Meanwhile, on the album highlight “WHO HURT U,” Tita Halaman’s words for an adversary are complemented by a dance punk groove that gives the song power, urgency, and fun. If the previous track sought an escape from lethargy, this one is the gas pedal push that’ll help you face your toughest moments headfirst with a sneering brave face. But the thread of life’s dualities continues to run through the album, and it culminates on the title track and album closer “GRIEF CAKE.” Here, Tita Halaman weeps for the end of a relationship she had fought so hard to keep alive. After trying to seek maturity, and now having gone through a bitter split, Tita Halaman has come to the realization that she is “just a kid,” making this one-half of a pair of songs — with the same key and tempo and all — that bookend this album. With ‘grief cake,’ the members of NEW LORE have given a nuanced take on growing into the many sides of adulthood, leaving no definitive answers when it comes to dealing with negativity, and instead calling on you to just have fun and never hold yourself back. It just makes sense why this album is named that way, and it also makes sense why the serious, sedate stylings of No Lore had to be forsaken for the urgent burst of freedom in NEW LORE. In early 2025, the band unveiled their new identity with “AMBITIOUS,” later the penultimate track on this album. It was the right way to kick off NEW LORE’s new story: its lyrics about shifting into new and exciting shapes, with an optimism punctuated by a sunny synthwave beat, is the ethos with which this remarkable re-debut was successfully built on. Reinvention shouldn’t have to come at the expense of your whimsy. In fact, it may just be the very thing that’ll get you there. SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST: