EP REVIEW: (e)motion engine – tell me how you f(e)el 

Written by JK Caray  How does a song mirror one’s life? (e)motion engine’s debut EP ‘tell me how you f(e)el’ doesn’t really give you an answer, but it provides a slate for you to write on.  6-piece indie rock outfit (e)motion engine has been all over the scene. From the release of their first track “mlb” dating back to 2024, the band has quickly cultivated a dedicated fanbase. After a year of teasing tracks, their newest EP ‘tell me how you f(e)el’ only pushes them further into their growing success. If you’ve gone to a few of (e)motion engine’s gigs over the years, you’ll know the kind of dynamic energy they bring to a set. With engaging performances that often result in a moshpit here and there, it’s a wonder that they’ve managed to record the same kinetic vibe in their EP. It’s another wonder that they’ve managed to be sonically consistent with the rest of their portfolio, mostly attributed to the edgy pop punk sound that permeates through all their songs which is a nod to their emo roots. (e)motion engine’s identity is deeply engraved into their music that it doesn’t just sound the same, it sounds uniquely them.  ‘tell me how you f(e)el’ reads like a diary. At times it feels alive, as if someone occasionally peeking through the drum beats. Each song acts as a journal entry, capturing the essence of being in a certain moment. It’s filled with different scenarios that may conjure up a memory or two; “milk” is the entry for when your mind betrays you as you remember somebody you shouldn’t. On the other hand, “keep it in” is a track you want to expel some pent up energy, while “mlb” celebrates the beauty of life and the privilege of seeing it blossom in front of you. Not all of it has to be profound, much like how every day can’t always be exciting, but it speaks true to the human experience.  Throughout the EP, (e)motion engine carefully tiptoes the line between telling a story and letting the listener fill in the blanks. At its very core, the tape hinges on your vulnerability to trust in it. It’s the record that you go to at the end of the day, like the vent folder in your notes app or the childhood blanket you cry to. It wants to make you feel seen. Now it’s up for you to decide, are you willing to ‘tell me how you f(e)el’ or are you still scared to make it real? SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST:

ALBUM REVIEW: emma bot – Radio Emma

Written by Louis Pelingen There is a sudden rush of emotions that’ll overwhelm everyone once they hit a certain age, wherein processing the state of their life thus far peels back all the ups and downs they’ve experienced as they continue to live and do the usual stuff in their routine to survive. It brings out the frustrations that may wallow in the present, but over time, it’ll die down as there is more to look forward to in the future. It might take time to push out those frustrations, but it is necessary to wade through them to learn and grow. For Sab Morado aka Emma Bot, they process that emotion within the set of pop punk and indie rock palette in their debut album, Radio Emma. Composed and produced by Emma Bot themself, with additional help by the members of Warpten amongst others, there’s a striking consistency and emotional punch within a lot of these songs, further grasped by the excellently sequenced album structure that allows both mellow and frenetic melodies to follow through without any flubs in momentum. Carrying through a familiar sonic streak that might not shift the sound of pop punk, but when these melodies are just catchy and filled with invigorating grooves, snappy performances, and fantastic production work, it leads to a lot of these songs just stick in the brain. Whether that be the rumbling bass and guitar passages on “Parallax (in Another Age)”, the stomping groove of “Mothing Feels Good”, the lively melodic throughlines of “P”, the shift from the wandering groove to the synth accents and flourishing guitars of “Coming of Age”, the soft build-ups that effectively lead to the explosive guitars of “On the Pavement” and the emotive final hook of “Easy”, the riotous melodic panic of “Japan”, and the wistful tone that’s amplified further by the additional vocals of Nica Feliciano and Howard Luistro on “Some Days (are Bad Days)”. It’s not just the melodies that manage to stick, as Emma Bot does write a compelling reflection within the themes of the record. Essentially, Emma Bot is trying to move away from whatever ache they feel, yet it doesn’t exactly come with an easy hurdle, especially as their mind is still filled with memories from the past that keep floating by. It’s an introspection that tangles itself down the line, getting a bit more existential through mentions of feeling numb, being a bit too wasted and sleep-deprived, and getting worked up with growing older that only creates the impression of getting close to giving in to cynicism as heartache and existential crisis only pulls them down further into the abyss. Yet amidst all that, Emma Bot acknowledges that there is still worth looking forward to beyond all of that cynical musings, where being able to see themselves alive is at least a positive moment to think about. The lingering pain might still be carried and there’s an unsureness about what else is there to dream about, but the important part is to keep grasping onto hope. The aspect in life that ensures that everything will be okay in the end. In short, Emma Radio is the sort of debut album that manages to hit the landing and showcases just how many roads Emma Bot could sonically proceed in the future, especially as there isn’t much risk taken within the production and compositional aspect of the album. Still, Emma Bot manages to strike the sweet spot on their first go, carving impressive melodies that have only gotten better with great pacing, sharp production, and nuanced writing that might wallow in the stormy heartache but is aware enough to grasp toward hope.  It’s a radio channel full of palpable tunes that are worth the listen. Support the art and the artist:

TRACK REVIEW: Cherry Society – Recluse

Written by Aly Maaño It’s 2009 again. I’m wearing an Artwork shirt, a plaid tennis skirt, and my favorite pair of black Chucks with rainbow-colored laces for a meet-up with my date at the local park. He would teach me how to skate for the first time, and I would let him read the pretentious poems in my journal. After a few weeks, we would stop seeing each other. I would never learn how to skate. This is how Cherry Society’s “Recluse” opened this long-forgotten time capsule in my brain. As an elder emo, I easily resonated with this song as it perfectly encapsulates an era when all the bands headlining When We Were Young were being blasted off from a Nokia Xpressmusic (if you still had one) or one of those early Samsung smartphones. Think of female-led bands like Paramore, Hey Monday, We Are the in Crowd, Tonight Alive, or Courage My Love. Sonically, “Recluse” draws influence from new wave, pop-punk bands from the posthumously coined “Defend Pop Punk” era like Neck Deep, The Wonder Years, Knuckle Puck, etc. With its cutting guitar riffs, thick, jangly bass tones, and energetic tempos, it could easily be the soundtrack for an angsty Y2K movie or the background music of an amateur skate video. Kuki’s strong, raw vocals balance clarity with a punch, evoking lyrics with adolescent themes involving relationships and heartbreak. Although some elements could still be polished, Kuki, Miya, Kat, and Lisha were successful in crafting their signature sound straight from Cherry Land—the kind you’ll dance and sing along to in your room or mosh to with your friends at the pit. If “Recluse” was released in the 2000s, I wouldn’t mind getting malware from illegally downloading it on Limewire just to listen to it on repeat. Support the art & the artist: