In recent years, we’ve noticed screamo music making a comeback amongst younger generations. Now, it’s referred to as ‘skramz’, which claims to be a contemporary approach to the classic genre. Do a basic search on ‘skramz’ and you’ll probably stumble upon bands like Catalyst…, Knumears, and Vs Self. But the catch is, most of them are from the U.S., whether the rural midwest or some suburbia out of the west coast. This makes their music often reflect Western imagery — something that is hard to relate to and resonate with if you didn’t grow up in America. Especially since most of their songs circulate within the themes of one’s teenage years. Although, thankfully, we have bands like Fragile now, to make skramz more applicable to our locality. There’s no denying that there’s some sense of contentment in finally having a skramz band, that is from the Philippines, and as a matter of fact, from Cavite. Skramz no longer feels like such a distant genre, hanging from the fringes of Western culture. It is now also something that we, as Filipinos, can define for ourselves, in our own version of it, independent from its Western counterpart. The track deep enough is angsty, melancholic, and with guttural vocals. It cuts through the senses like a sharp knife, bellowing with downtrodden lyrics. It provides that satisfying levity that we often feel, from listening to skramz, as if transcending towards heaven, and maybe even hell. The instrumentals hold a feel for nostalgia and sentimentality, which paired with harsh vocals, end up with great contrast and texture. However, the overall ‘recipe’ of the song still reflects a bit of what we hear in bands like Algae Bloom, Versera, and seahorsechoke. While there’s still some room for improvement, one could place priority on originality. Perhaps exploring themes and subjects within their ideas that are not so generic upon their temperament of what’s ‘angsty.’ Maybe something more rooted to the Filipino experience of the coming-of-age. Less on the dread, and more on the context. Asking questions like what is our (Filipinos) account on what torments us? And how can we convey such a niche experience through musicality? Although to add onto that, they’re still a relatively new band, and it always takes time to develop one’s unique sound. With this, comes an opportunity for them to establish a skramz sound that is purely authentic and genuine to the local scene. Despite it being quite common for skramz bands to fall into the trap of repeating a pattern of redundancy out of their own peers’ music, Fragile seems to be a capable band in breaking that frequent occurrence. Hopefully when they do, it won’t be a blueprint to what Western bands have already come up with. For one, they already produce more spirited, vigorous instrumentals that, in all honesty, is difficult to find in this day and age’s gloom-for-doom type of skramz. Despite clearly withholding aesthetics that are influenced by industrialism and perhaps even slightly nihilist, the overall sound of the band does not sound ‘dead’ and in fact livelier than ever. But maybe that’s the hope we Filipinos have, speaking for itself – always looking for the light at the end of the tunnel. Basically, free of mimicry and replication, without the inclination to imitate earlier skramz bands. Hence, there’s a lot of pressure for a band like Fragile, who is bringing a fresh genre into the community. Yes, screamo has been in the country for years, but skramz is an entirely new variety of it, and its presence is still pristine to the country. Certainly a big responsibility, one can place their bets that as they discover more of their sound, they’ll make a distinct name for Filipino skramz. Support the art & the artist:
Tag: Screamo
ALBUM REVIEW: LIMBS – Everything Under Heaven
‘Massive’ would be an understatement to describe this album. “Everything Under Heaven” marks the third full-length release of the Manila-based Limbs, and it is perhaps their most colossal musical outing yet. Like a steel Eldritch creature you cannot look away from, “Everything Under Heaven” is a record that dwells from the underground to cast its shadow upon all that sit carefree in their comfortable abode to shine light on truths less realized by many unaccustomed to violence. From the album art itself, the band, with their fellow ARPAK artist Mikhail Collado helping them bring their vision to life, depicts a backdrop of an urban locale entrenched in war. Dilapidated interchanges that surpass people in height, silhouettes of mech robots built for war pulled straight from a sci-fi movie towering over all they trudge their path on. Whether it was by intention or sheer coincidence, Limbs was going for something grand on this album that even the title hints at (their use of giant robots to illustrate this is sheer ingenuity), and the music that comes with its packaging delivers some of the best hardcore pieces of the year so far. Originally branding themselves as a screamo band, Limbs’ “Everything Under Heaven” feels more like a mini compendium of the wider punk umbrella than a one-note act. There is something for everybody, and the way the band incorporated these different elements is commendable. Breakdowns come from every which way, complex drum fills fly at break-neck speed, distortions come in full force. It is the rawness of hardcore you would come to expect going into this record, and more. Whether it’s the balls-to-the-walls skramz of “Transactional Rifle”, or the restrained chaos of “Metropolis of Salt,” or the multi-sectioned odyssey that is the title track, there is always a method to their madness. Meanwhile, there are moments of ambient and electronic music thrown across the album as the band exhibits their capabilities as producers, sometimes to complement the guitar-driven sections, sometimes to go along with the loudness of a song, and sometimes to be its own thing (“Second Survivor” comes to mind). Also worth noting are the contributions other artists have made to this album. Pry’s Jem Gallardo makes a major appearance in “Metropolis of Salt” as a co-writer and vocalist. switchbxtch, also known for releasing protest music, especially during the pandemic, also lent a hand. Now I would be remiss to write about “Everything Under Heaven” and not discuss the themes the band explored in the album — rather, the stories the album was built around. “Everything Under Heaven” is centered around the mass injustices of the Philippine government on the poor, spanning many faces of human rights violations and terror-induced state formation in rural parts of the country. It is the underlying, horrifying truth the band tries to bring forth to its listeners. “Metropolis of Salt”, for one, outlines a gruesome image of starvation faced by the poor in the midst of a violent clash with the state’s forces. The single “Hope Belligerent” is more specific with its narrative as it explores the Tinang 83 incident in chilling detail. True to their roots as activists and members of ARPAK, Limbs outwardly express their disdain towards the state and its forces, whether clad in blue or green. Using their art as a conduit, the band not only wishes to bring awareness to the people, but encourages everyone to break free from all moral restraints and share the same burning spite. Like a steel Eldritch creature you cannot look away from, “Everything Under Heaven” is enormous in scale and in essence. It is packed with collaborations, a bevy of musical influences, and songs that will leave you dizzy from all the headbanging you’ll end up doing. Its enormity is ever-so-present in its packaging. But looking past the exterior, you’d inevitably come across the horrors it eagerly wants to tell you. You either look away, or you face them and do your part in this movement for change and for justice. Support the art & the artist: [bandcamp width=350 height=470 album=894523801 size=large bgcol=ffffff linkcol=0687f5 tracklist=false]