Written by Faye Allego At midnight, gasping for air, wondering where life will take on, emptiness appears in a dreamlike sequence. It’s peculiar, it’s suffocating, but it has always been familiar, like the hand of a lover who swore to hold on tight when diving deep into the trenches. Well, Linger Escape holds a requiem for that feeling in their debut album, We All End In The Same Place. In the world of nu-gaze, it’s easy to put on a respirator to filter out the fumes of repetitiveness found in shoegaze and other genres that fall under that umbrella; that repetitiveness being the same knobs of emotion being turned on the guitar pedal, the longing, the distortion, the buzzing, the fizzling, the static, the reverb, all of it. Perhaps, things don’t have to sound unique to be good, or the very essence of repetitiveness is not inherently bad, and that is where Linger Escape proves that those fumes aren’t toxic at all: In “Nothing”, the 2000s Nu-metal riff seeps in and blends with the honesty found in the lyrics. Instead of pairing the growling vocals with a sensual approach, the low-frequency phone call effect used in the primary vocals instead creates a dichotomy of past versus present, or, bringing emphasis to the lyrics “still digging for the bones, of what once was, of what has been”. Their most popular track, “Whisper”, thrusts a knee-jerk response to the listener prompted by the change in atmosphere. The song takes you to outer space where everything is uncertain, and all there is left is to ponder, once the riff glides into climax, the song ends as if the listener is taken through a metaphysical spiral, circling through the axis of experiences, memories, and so on. We All End In The Same Place is an 8-track album where the first half seems as though the band is hurriedly yet slowly establishing their true voice, presenting their sonic capabilities through varied quirks and sequences in the guitar distortion and the heavier percussion. As the latter half of the album proceeds after the 5th track, Linger Escape progresses and establishes that unflinchingly honest voice and sound. In “Gone”, the longest track on the record, the band unleashes the restraint of complex emotions that are evident in “Kin” and “Vermin”. Unfolding into a slow yet cathartic release with the soft yet stern meddles of the drums and the guitar as raw as the vocals, the listener is almost compelled to feel doom that the song will eventually come to an end. Will they be in the same place as they were before? Only time and the act of submersion into nostalgia can tell. As the album ends with “Bloom”, Linger Escape’s evolution is palpable. A sense of finality hits, and everything makes sense: the very sequence of before, during, and after. Shoutout to all the Life Is Strange fans out there. This is Max Caufield as an album. Overall, this album paves the way for the Bicol Shoegaze scene. It isn’t just a debut album; it’s a statement of intent. The four-piece doesn’t shy away from merging different sounds into one nostalgia-core mood board, and it doesn’t try to reinvent the genre either– they hold a mirror, albeit smudged and fogged, and let the listener look into its depths and take a deep, long breath. SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST:
Tag: shoegaze
EP REVIEW: &ND – quarters
Written by Anika Maculangan Like specks of sunlight huddled in one dark corner, “quarters” read like that old photo booth picture, that long-lost receipt, or that tattered candy wrapper at the bottom of your pocket. The tracks, if anything, feel homesick for another universe. Infused with ethereal accents and soft imprints of shoegaze, certain tracks, especially “2nd room”, a lengthy 7-minute song, are perfect for spacing out in the middle of Maginhawa, as a flurry of pollution fills the lungs with something ambivalent. Despite its longevity, through drifting and spacey lyric composition, the song seems to defy all odds of time. This seems to be the case for &ND, even with other tracks like the remastered version of “Best of Luck” which boasts a duration of 5 minutes, which somehow, one way or another, manages to distort our concept of how long a moment lasts. It seems like making something fulfilling amongst a sea of boredom, like when you’re in your living room sofa, and you turn the TV on to satiate the room with sound, just to reckon with the emptiness. Quarters is meant for those who were aficionados to the likes of Ourselves the Elves, amidst the height of Armi Millare, when everything circumvented within the seams of moonstruck yet hard-boiled indie ballads. Blurry images layered over thick pastures of grain, the EP recovers what was lost prior to the pandemic — that hypermnesia for hopecore edits and patch tattoos, riddled with a plethora of late nights by the fluorescent glow of Angel’s Burger. The EP, finely drawn in its faded outfit, ceases to ever decline when it comes to the long-standing culture of diaries and sundried flowers plastered against cigarette butts. Therefore, ultimately, makes the statement that while we are moving forward, we are still, at the end of the day, figments of an old cast, begging to break loose. It goes without saying that a throwback like quarters, gives a nod to ‘those days’ of once being a student and stocking up on caffeine, all the while tracing back one’s roots amongst the tangled cords of an earphone. More fluid in their approach to genre, this indefinite notion provides the ability to delve into other sonic characters in the future. “quarters”, unlike other projects loosely borrowed from shoegaze, touches on the genre lightly, permitting more capacity for revisiting its tonalities within their own terms — these terms that immerse its toes into dream pop, bringing more uplifting, effervescent qualities into their sound. The EP is a stand-in for sensations of a lost memory, as it sings “If I were old, old to stay/I would love to lay and just wait”, exemplifying what it means to have a doubled intuition for recollection toward an echo, acting as a souvenir to what led us here. “quarters,” in its stillness, flows with reverb and resonance that can only match the waves, one sweep lesser of a tide. &ND feels like a reactionary project to the post-Megumi Acorda generation, amplifying that accent of unmistakable transcendence. SUPPORT THE ART & THE ARTIST:
TRACK REVIEW: .foollstop – L
Written by Adrian Jade Francisco Fallen angels—once held in the heavens, now cast down, wandering in the aftermath of their descent. .foollstop’s “L” is shaped in a similar sentiment, an anthem of loss, reflection, lost in the reverie of ill-fated romances. San Pablo’s .foollstop has released their initial shoegaze track, a year elapsing since their live debut at Mow’s. The euphonious mix of the instruments, Huwakin’s and Ice’s vocals are cascading rivers of tears that transcend into sound, echoing throughout the song. A touch of rap alongside shoegaze is featured in the second verse, which is not something you hear in the genre every day; The monologue section before the breakdown of “L” is a bursting bottle loaded with emotions that erupts in the ending, drowning in tremolo-picked guitars and layers of vocals. Taking a glimpse at their “L” demo in Sining Shelter’s compilation “tunes for a true home,” the band slid the key into the right lock in the final version by incorporating more audio tracks in the mix. “L” weaves biblical metaphors into its narrative, portraying the perspective of a fallen angel caught in a fleeting situationship. Just as the fallen angel once knew the embrace of heaven, the narrator reflects on the short-lived moments of a love that couldn’t last. You may interpret various words from “L” such as “loss,” “ love,” or “limbo” but you can not associate the band’s debut with “loss.” Unlike the fallen angels, .foollstop’s wings chose to soar and may further introduce something of substance in an uncertain future. Support the art & the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: Lara – Disambiguate
Written by Faye Allego It’s not unbeknownst that everyone has been stuck amid uncertainty and ultimately seeks comfort in the limerence shoegaze and dream pop emit. Five years of amalgamating ten tracks that challenge the umbrella terms under indie-rock, Lara’s debut album, Disambiguate, intimately transfigures their sonic ability to provide solace amidst uncertainty. A question riddled with intimidation crawls: how intimate can Lara get? As an introductory instrumental track, “Flight Patterns” defines the essential stylistic sounds of dream pop– it invites the listener to the parameters of psychedelia through its behind-the-pocket drumming, synth work, surging waves of the guitar’s overdrive and modulation, and the mixings in post-production don’t ruin its essence of fuzzy shoegaze. Following the hearty motifs of melancholia in the first track, we are introduced to Jedidiah Tabago’s vocals for the rest of the album. Tabago’s vocals in itself are not bad, perhaps a broader vocal resonance while singing longer notes could help his vocal abilities stand out more. The instrumental tracks of “Ambiguate” are loyal to the artist’s thematic vision of love and loss; “Sonoluminescence” in physics is the emission of light from imploding bubbles. Lara forms cavitations and fulminates an otherworldly auditory panorama, lighting up an entire city in their crystalline song craft and fully understanding the assignment when it comes to instrumental tracks in post-rock albums. However, the poetic dexterity found in the lyrics all throughout the album is splendid to the ears and further uplifts Lara’s song crafting. In “Countenance” the lines “Indulgence of each other is our delight / Savor every second if this” use sensory language to illuminate the listener’s auditory experience. The lyrics and its execution hit the brain’s neuron like Cupid and his bow in the way this song elicits lust. Though the album remains cohesive despite the vouch for experimentality in the spectacles of the Indie Pop/Rock genre, “Peaks” explores the ambiguity of noise haphazardly. Although it is a fairly good track, it isn’t sonically incohesive; the rather unserious approach to the ad lib/sound effects such as “bruh”, “yahoo!”, and Minecraft noises used ruins the flow of the album due to its Aphex Twin-like approach and distance from the limerence the narrator in the earlier and later tracks seems/seem to be going through. However, the atmospheric endeavors emulated bring justice to the experimental pathway they are in: “Loss” stands out softly. Both versions included in the album exhume a hopeful gesture toward the arbitrary happenings in life but in actuality, it is a story where the narrator follows a path down the “what could have been versus what actually happened” lane. Nearly twelve minutes of both versions combine to answer the question of intimacy these twenty-somethings showcase in their sonic ability, that the passion is ever present and it is engulfed with thought, and purpose, and disambiguates the oneness of life. Overall, Lara’s debut album is purposive and promising. Their ability to diverge from various sonic fields is frisky yet intimate– although their vocal work could use some improvements to justify their simple yet superb lyric ability. SUPPORT THE ART & THE ARTIST:
ALBUM REVIEW: Fax Gang + Parannoul – Scattersun
Written by Louis Pelingen When reaching a sense of stability, there is no doubt that it’s sometimes a fleeting moment, a feeling that provides meditation and strength just before everybody has to push forward to the next phase of tension in their lives. On the last projects that Fax Gang and Parannoul have put out, this does ring true as they take a lot more effort to embrace the sense of the calm before the storm: Fax Gang offers more openly brighter melodies and textures on Dataprism and Parannoul moving away from the aghast distorted perks of his debut as he takes more dreamy wistfulness on After The Magic. So now that they’re both under Topshelf Records, the possibility of working once again since their collaboration on the last track of Dataprism feels like a star that can be reached, where the light keeps on burning brightly. And it sure does, as on Scattersun, Fax Gang and Parannoul merge their varying worlds in absolute delight. Within this project, Fax Gang and Parannoul’s musical chemistry bounces off in a way that resonates with their strengths as they leap off into various characteristics that morph into their own being – all filled with post-rock crescendos, eclectic sound design, distinctive production palette, and amorphous genre swervings that Fax Gang and Parannoul just makes it all work. Riding these risky musical ideas that both acts are willing to do, and create an exciting endeavor where those risks are rewarded tremendously, intersecting their creative worlds where they know which parts of their ideas will work and proceed to experiment even further outside of their comfort zone that also manages to stick the landing in a remarkable fashion. ‘Double Bind’ showcases this toast of ideas clearly, with the first half lurking within the familiar bit-crushed soundscape from Fax Gang with PK Shellboy’s vocals rummaging through that chaos, just before it slowly and sleekly transitions to the usual fractured distortion from Parannoul’s part on the back half that also has a jersey club rhythm implemented within, displaying familiar pieces of sound that work around with newer facets of experimentation. This experimentation continues further all across the project, from ‘Quiet’ where PK Shellboy joins within the crisp and bulky alt-rock palette that’s clearly Parannoul’s signature wheelhouse but is wrapped around with warping synths, ‘Lullaby for a Memory’ with the jaunty array of rapid organic breakbeats, wistful synth progressions, and galloping crescendos that spearthrows itself into the skies, ‘Wrong Signal’ where the warbling production creates a cacophonous black hole for Mudd the student of Balming Tiger and PK Shellboy to break through with anxious performances just before the production clears up into a danceable but still suffocating beat, ‘Circular Motion’ takes a mellower tone where both PK Shellboy and Parannoul’s vocals are cushioned within the spare lilting synths and chalky percussion that eventually collapses into a charged EDM instrumental passage that bolts to the end of the song, and ‘Soliloquy’ may as well be the absolute charming cut from album – filled with glorious melodic progressions that can fit into a rhythm game song selection as the sweeping drums and synths glimmer before it cracks and dishevels as it moves along, even adding a random jazz sample that swivels into the cut’s last ecstatic chorus. And even despite ‘Ascension’ and ‘Scattersun’ paling off for different reasons – with the first song that could’ve expanded upon its harmonies and the second song that could’ve sharpened parts of its transitions and melodies, they still manage to land with aplomb as the former cut’s fleeting calmness creaks from its fuzzy textures that never overshadow the performances of every vocalist – gatka’s soothing vocals especially – and the latter cut’s attempt on creating a 10-minute plugging, cloud rap, and drill epic is nothing short of impressive in just going along on that idea and just making it happen. This overall scale is also reinforced within the writing of the record, taking a grand leap as Fax Gang and Parannoul return back into exploring humanistic existential dread that they find themselves lurking within, all with an embrace of abstract metaphors that expound the exhausting emotions even more. There is a desperation to cling to the brighter future that they try to reach as much as possible even despite all the murk that keeps on piling up more and more each day, intensifying the anxious dread that they want to avoid for their sake. Yet it is an attempt of avoidance that they cannot do successfully anymore, especially with the doomed tone displayed on cuts like ‘Wrong Signal’ where internet doom-scrolling will continue to display the destructive parts of reality that they can’t risk to not care about anymore. Thus, it overall colors the bleak aspects within these deeper reflections, whether that be having to mature and moving past their inner child on ‘Lullaby for a Memory’, reaching out to friends and trying to help them out even if they themselves are dealing with their own struggles on ‘Ascension’, and just how accepting a defeatist mindset due to the constant effects of isolation, aging, and ennui in this devastating world soon collapses upon ‘Scattersun’, the darkest cut in the album as there is a realization where the process of reflecting through these harrowing moments don’t seem to make sense anymore and is easier to just find some release in self-harm – a dour thought that’s compounded from the continuous wallowing that pushes everybody else away, and leaves them struggling with not knowing who they are anymore. Eventually concluding on the aptly titled ‘Circular Motion’ as the null in this negative state of mind will persist, a stillness that may never be broken apart where loneliness seems to be the only relief for all of this. As a whole, there is an astoundment that swings around Scattersun and all of its elements. A collaboration that tries to break out of their comfort zone where Fax Gang and Parannoul embrace their wildly varied musical components and
TRACK REVIEW: sister christine – driver’s license
Written by Jax Figarola “driver’s license” by sister christine immerses their audience in a sonic landscape that draws inspiration from iconic shoegaze bands like quannnic, Whirr, flyingfish, and my bloody valentine. However, the song combines the elements of grunge and shoegaze, capturing the essence of dark liminal spaces through its use of distant ethereal vocals, buried drums, distorted and heavy guitar riffs, and fuzzy textures that scratch the brain. The track opens with solitary guitar riffs that echo only through the left stereo, which set the stage for a long, dragging intro that lasts for half a minute before the opening verse comes. The murky and noisy atmosphere, achieved through the use of pedal-infused guitars and the deliberate use of distorted overlapping vocals, paradoxically instills a sense of calmness. The lyrics, nearly drowned by the loudness of the instruments, contribute to a sense of blasé sentiment towards the whole composition. However, and a big however, the emotive and distorted voice during the chorus is easily discernible, evoking emotions of hopelessness and entrapment in a dysfunctional relationship–a cycle of intoxicating pain. In short, while the established soundsphere of the instruments crafts a sense of deliriium, it is the vocals that stand out as the track’s most compelling element. Turning attention to the song’s discovery, it’s noteworthy that TikTok played a huge role. The cylical nature of attention in the age dominated by doomscrolling and an algorithm that often steers depressed people towards depressive content, the track resonates with TikTok users seeking relatable melancholic content. In a curated display of seemingly “liminal space” images, sister christine strategically utilizes the platform to promote their song by posting repetitive TikToks in a standardized format, featuring text like “pov: you found an underrated artist to obsess over” set against images, in a slideshow, of dark, eerie liminal spaces that invoke both familiarity and discomfort. Therefore, the intention of the artist feels like it plays a pivotal role in their success. If their intention is to seek attention, as the song suggests, then repetitive posts of the same script hoping to blow up is an impressive metaphor, similarly how Mallbangs’ “Gutter” was popularized through edits of the game Silent Hill or how Aphex Twin’s “Pulsewidth” had a resurgence in popularity due to slideshows of Y2K images. However, attributing sister christine’s success solely to TikTok strategies would be unfair. The artist adeptly leverages TikTok culture to create an easily streamable audio, tapping into the platform’s teen shoegaze and indie fans. Despite lacking a distinctly Filipino touch, the intense and obscure sound of “driver’s license” remains an impressive addition to the shoegaze genre. This doesn’t imply a requirement for the song to be in a Philippine language; rather, it just seems somewhat foreign, resembling international shoegaze acts like sister christine’s inspirations. Wrapping up with an air of mystery, the confusing title (at least, for me) of “driver’s license” remains an elusive riddle. The title makes no sense, inviting listeners to ponder its meaning even after the music has concluded. Support the art & the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: A. Piloto – In Light
Written by Elijah P. 2024 is buckling up for a new generation of alternative rock: bedroom pop turned into grungier, noisier tangents that are partly inspired by the likes of Duster, blue smiley and Alex G. There’s sleaze and pomposity to the charming and ridiculously new fashioned crowd of indie scenesters and A. Piloto is the new kid on the block. Partly hailing from the internet and the underground of a Chinese restaurant, indie rock neophyte A. Piloto released “In Light” as a debut single for an “upcoming something…” on his official Soundcloud account at a random New Year’s afternoon. “In Light” exhibits a build up wherein volume densely rises into multitudes of frantic, screaming chords as the track progresses. A. Piloto’s vocals ramble in non-sequiters, almost yearning for an apocalyptic ending while a number of bright and loud wiry riffages distort the track even further, making the single all the more enticing and transcendental as it goes on. It saves itself from being one-noted and remains to be a work of its own in the noisier tangents of the local rock meta. Surprisingly there’s a lot of promise shown in “In Light” and in A. Piloto’s music as well. It really is a high time to put in the work for a lot of artists who embody the peculiar and the increasingly loud sides of the scene. Support the art & the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: bird. – oshin
Written by Elijah P. 11 years after the release of dream pop and post-punk band from Brooklyn, New York’s DIIV, another band from the other side of the planet decides to name their debut album after the onomatopoeia of “ocean”. Enter Locked Down Entertainment’s bird. from Metro Manila, a 5-piece established by members from Chicosci, Save Me Hollywood, Musical O and Lindenwood. They’ve got experience and veteran status on their sleeve but as bird., they got a clean slate in the 10-track album “oshin”. The album sounds equal parts aquatic and desert-like; the former equipping drowned-out guitars and the latter chest-bumping percussion that has a high potential in clipping through the speakers. You might think that it’s balanced with all elements of the earth, but in reality it’s just 5 members showing off their surf tricks at the coast. That, in particular, is what made this band essential: surf music. But there’s more to it than just riding the waves and sitting by the beach side. Ever since their inception around early 2019, they’ve had “#vibecore” written all over their bios, but the album neither justifies the tag. They’re a step above what their descriptors are. There’s something that sounds incredibly wider production-wise – a lot more robust than any other tender-sounding band that gives off the weekend at the beach during peak season with the family. bird. doesn’t hold back its punchy rhythm sections, drummer Hannah’s tight performance, and vocalist Eco Del Rio’s ghostly presence. It’s all 100 percent from here. Significant highlights like “maria”, “Weekend”, “hardwood jack” and “the stranger” possess this kind of spiritual alternative rock taking over the musician’s astral plane while “Ride”, “san juan” and “sl” share the commonalities of being in a vacation. As mentioned before, there’s a balance to the self-confessional side of Eco Del Rio and the side of the band’s frolicking nature all the while kitting out the heavier guns at the studio. bird. is a culmination of everything that alternative rock has the potential to be locally: atmospheric, unserious, rugged, honest, and raw. SUPPORT THE ART & THE ARTIST:
EP REVIEW: Precal Dropouts – Little One, Travel Far
Written By Elijah P. Davao City’s Precal Dropouts are easy to spot in the current crop of local shoegaze, dream pop and post-punk revival bands. You have guitarists Josh and Jan Mark and bassist Ben going back and forth in scorching riffages and swells higher than the altitude of a souvlaki space station. In their debut EP “Little One, Travel Far”, the three-track project feels less of an overdue and more of an arrival right on time in the shoegaze-dreampop canon. Their sensibilities can go beyond the gazing distortion and winding chords; there are prog influences here and cohesion there. Precal Dropouts might as well become the unit that’s become new-fashioned and refreshing among their scene contemporaries. The result of “Little One, Travel Far” and its intended songwriting are ripe enough to achieve the level of ambition as far as shoegaze/dreampop goes; Josh’s wave-causing riffages are enough to combat John Mark and Ben’s driving instrumentals. There’s actual synergy happening behind the noise and we’re here for all of it. The aughts post-punk influenced title track is a sonic introductory to the band: fast, interlocking fuzz and distortions and reverberated yet not overbearing vocals. “Stay…It’s Eventide” hangs on tight with its buildup ready to bust down some soundproof walls. The last and centerpiece of the entire EP “There & Back Again” are filled with guitar solos after the other, sprinkling the track with colorful arpeggios and impressive technical skill displayed by its beautifully arranged rhythm section. It’s safe to say that there aren’t any hiccups and overlapping melodies that ruin any of the noise, it’s as straightforward as any shoegaze record in the 2020s could get; Genuine friendship can make up the best product of art, but Josh, Jan Mark and Ben are the best of friends even if the pedals are off in “Little One, Travel Far”. Support the art & the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: Angelo Shinohara – sayo
Written by Elijah P. Angelo Shinohara’s TikTok account is nothing but your typical “pogi cover” singer-songwriter. Cherry picking the latest alternative in the musicsphere and earning 6-digit views day in and day out, Shinohara in the light is the cliche viral artist, but in the dark, he’s different. Enter the shoegaze/dreampop version of Angelo Shinohara: the noisier, vocal fronted and fuzz-drenched pretty face side of the singer-songwriter. The ambient slowcore to quietgaze pipeline is evident in acts like Title Fight, Whirr and Starflyer 59, but Shinohara doesn’t make himself a copycat of either of the aforementioned bands, but rather a painfully shameless second-version of his inspirations. The influences have depth, grit, and an overarching narrative between the noise. Shinohara has neither. “sayo” is touted as the viral shoegaze love song of the rainy season. Shinohara and friends are saluting to their shoegaze idols heavily, both sonically and lyrically. “sayo” is arguably the first ever shoegaze track that draws on so many influences but the result of which becomes a blank canvas of ideas for Shinohara. And as much as the track is an exploration of soundscapes for the songwriter, the sound and writing barely carried the track in its dragging 4-minute runtime. The longer “sayo” lasts, the more it proves to be a one-dimensional hugot track amplified by muffled distortion. In repeated listens, the track magnifies in substandard production textures. “sayo” and its perfumed pedalboard doesn’t make it any better and neither does Angelo’s Greg Gonzales-esque voice and chiseled jawline doesn’t make this any more tolerable. Angelo Shinohara is a walking-singing example of a bedroom artist releasing a demo that has multiple errors than the average trials of a bedroom-shoegaze artist. Support the art & the artist: