Within the largest city of Myanmar, Yangon, lie small yet meaningful bands like Soft Things, who are waving the flag towards the dream pop and shoegaze flourishes that echo across the city. Formed back in 2023, this tight-knit band is composed of guitarists Kaung Khant Htun and Nyi Ye Htut, bassist Kaung SI Thu, drummer Thu Ta Aung, and vocalist Thet Htar Zin. Young fledglings finding their groove within the yearning spirit of the sounds they’re pulling from. They sparked a flash last year with their debut EP, ‘Warm Blue Sea,’ a stirring wave of dream pop that washes over. It acts as a starting point that defines their spirit, a characteristic best represented on the first track of the song, ‘Asleep, Awake’. Punchy drums and serene pedal effects reinforce the tension that Thet writes on record. Looking into a lilting love that is either fleeting or everlasting. This overall spirit carries through from song to song. ‘Zoo’ very much casts a lot of Cocteau Twins’ soundscape, especially how the guitars phase out in the mix alongside Thet’s vocal backdrops scattering all over the song. ‘I am not the one for you’ tests out its writing intrigues, letting glossy keys cascade over the protagonist’s affections with the women he’s loved in the past. The closer track, ‘Cherry Cola,’ delves into synthpop bits as buzzing synth pads trickle all over the song. It recalls and reflects upon the saccharine moments that can end up so bitter, like an unforgettable aftertaste Of course, as heard through Thet’s delivery, the brute forces his vocal limits to a flinching degree on ‘I Remember You’, they wear their passion in their sleeves and embrace all its ups and downs as much as possible. Soft Things know that the world is in a rough shape at the moment, so they may as well hold onto those soft moments from the very beginning, and let it glow as they continue their path, charging their spirits to a much tender future.
Tag: shoegaze
TRACK REVIEW: cosmic suns – Ethereal
Written by Aly Maaño How does one hold on to a moment that’s almost palpable but fleeting? How does one express awe in the face of something ethereal? Sometimes, words hold no meaning when the otherworldly presents itself in forms that make you hold your breath. Hailing from Davao, cosmic suns attempt to express these intangible feelings in their debut single, “Ethereal.” In the world of shoegaze, pedals are tools for creating sensations that go beyond hearing. Cosmic suns know just how manipulate fuzz to achieve textured riffs that explode into microcosms of desire, longing, and turmoil. Their distorted guitars swirl and bend with other instruments while dreamy and distant vocals orbit around them like an invisible knot — connecting each conjured world into a single hazy soundscape. With these elements, “Ethereal” remains loyal to the genre. However, it finds itself treading into skramz territory as the chorus breaks into agonizing screams. But hearing a vocalist desperately screaming in a shoegaze track doesn’t break through the expansive wall of noise but merely complements its obscurity. Drenched in lush reverb and delay, the screams add a haunting effect that only intensifies the heavy emotions the song is channeling. When layered with clean vocals, the result is as visceral as a memory from years ago that leaves a lump in one’s throat. At this point, there’s no need to interpret; we must surrender willfully to the auditory frenzy. Cosmic suns may still be protostars in the vast shoegaze universe, but they already formed the core of their sound in “Ethereal.” In their evolutionary stage, will they continue redefining the genre’s blueprint? For now, we can only watch as they traverse celestial distances one heavenly song at a time. SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST:
TRACK REVIEW: inanotherworld – airfrying chicken nuggets for 10 minutes at 200°C
Written by Aly Maaño The beginning of the year is programmed for a personal reset. People eagerly work on their resolutions or, at least, plan the next step. But it’s not always how it’s set out to be. Some are still reflecting on the past year, revisiting old wounds to process what needs to be left behind. inanotherworld’s latest single, “airfrying chicken nuggets for 10 minutes at 200°C,” lets us linger in this period of reflection before release. This five-minute track blends the heavier sound of shoegaze with the slacker tempo and somber composition of slowcore to capture the dissonance of existing in a world that rewards constant movement over stillness. It starts with a chaotic frenzy of drums, pedal distortions, and glitchy frequencies that seem to echo an initial frustration. But it’s nothing that a long walk can’t subdue. This is what the first half of the song feels like. A long walk around the city after coming back from school or work after the holidays. The gloomy tone of the guitars pulls the listener out of their reality to observe what lies beyond the concrete jungle and urban sprawl. Even with melodies meant to evoke a melancholic mood, the track ironically inspires the listener to romanticize life and find serenity amidst the chaos. With beautiful, ghostly vocals accompanying sparse instrumentation, the experience is stretched out into a hundred blissful moments. As seen in the track’s cover art, snippets of the cityscape feel like a much-needed pause to take everything in. By the second half, “airfrying chicken nuggets for 10 minutes at 200°C” unfurls into a euphoric outburst, bringing banging snares and heavier riffs forward. During this prolonged sequence, a sense of comfort is instilled through sound rather than emotional lyricism. The repetition of downbeat melodies is meditative, healing almost. In this track, inanotherworld morphs common themes of slowcore — defeatism and somber slow burns — into a calm renewal. It turns a normal evening walk into an introspection while everything else moves in linear time. SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST:
ALBUM REVIEW: We Are Imaginary – s/t
Written by Lex Celera For the most part, We Are Imaginary has played along the ballpark of noise pop, shoegaze, and jangly lo-fi when it comes to their sound. Each of their last four albums plays with the formula in different ways – a reflection of the band’s changing members. Early on, sometime before the release of 2010’s ‘One Dreamy Indeterminate Hum,’ the band even had to change its name. With its latest release, We Are Imaginary settles on something new and interesting, enough for it to be a self-titled album, with the record to be sold on vinyl via Eikon Records. Not only is ‘We Are Imaginary,’ their fifth album, a feat in “remaining true” to their sound, so to speak, but it is also a symbolic act to release their fifth album as a self-titled full-length album 17 years since their debut. As if to say that the band has planted an anchor against the currents of time that bears their name – a sign of confidence. It’s worth mentioning that this is supposedly the last by their longtime bassist Vhall Bugtong, who migrated to North America. The new setup includes Ahmad and Khalid Tanji as the band’s twin backbone, joined by Jerros Dolino of Megumi Acorda and Spacedog Spacecat. We Are Imaginary’s self-titled album is worth listening to not because of their proximity to bands we already enjoy–they do wear their influences on their sleeves in interviews–but to see how they’ve planted their feet in their musical journey. The band knows how to be both emotionally evocative and earnestly relatable, and it shows. The album’s sonic palette is primed by the singles that were released prior: “Pinkish Hue,” kept in their pockets since 2015, puts the band’s romantic lyrics at bay with fierce mood-driven fuzziness. “Stockholm” and its happysad structure don’t resolve themselves despite soaring up in energy. The same with “Object Of My Affliction” and its nuanced breakdown two-thirds of the way. “Greatest Kill” emerges as a track that I keep going back to; it’s built for detached navel gazing. Throughout the album, I feel a poignant dissonance. As a whole, the album comes across as concrete and certain, and well curated, thanks to its one year in preproduction. But why do I feel a permeating sense of melancholy while listening? How can the album talk about surrender and yearning while remaining measured, almost clinical, in its arrangement? Both can exist, in music and in life, which is a testament to the band’s own songwriting. Frontman Ahmad’s lyricism cut through the production in a way that they have always done it: abstract, unfettered, and accepting of its own feelings. This time, the result feels more cohesive when looked at as a full project. This band setup, this new approach to their sound, just feels right. Support the art & the artist:
EP REVIEW: Megumi Acorda – Sun Blanket
Written by Noelle Alarcon Dream pop quintet Megumi Acorda has come a long way since their debut EP ‘Unexpectedly,’ released in 2018. Said EP turned the five-piece into one of the most quintessential introductions to the local underground, best known for their ability to capture the sound of heartbreak and longing. This time, with the launch of their latest EP ‘Sun Blanket,’ Megumi Acorda is still the face of the enigmatic ache that comes with yearning, just with the warmth of the sun possessing each track now. It’s evident in the way they changed up the pangs of their hazy, jangle pop-influenced releases with grittier, power pop-derived riffs and more beats per minute than usual. Megumi Acorda’s use of guitars is known for its capability to audibly spell out what it means to pine; to set your heart on someone (or something). The signature fuzziness of their riffs is often praised thanks to the complexities of sound the pedals are able to concoct. There’s a richness in their instrumentals, humming low and fully, that vibrates at the same frequency as the listener’s deep-seated, unspoken feelings. The band is able to shine on such feelings with their light, pulling you out of the darkness. In this EP, the strings don’t drive for the entirety of the songs; they’re happy to be along for the ride. Albeit the simplicity, the licks are just as impressive and catchy as heard in the energetic opening of “Task Kitty (Save Me)” and the jumpy drag along the frets that beep around in “YRU.” Sporadic poppiness aside, when the tempo slows down, the classic Megumi Acorda sound is more apparent. The tracks teeter along a journey of acceptance and fulfillment; the rhythm section and the occasional flourishes that accompany it are telling points of inflection. There are drum fills and basslines bouncier and more jittery than you’d expect from Megumi Acorda, like the bright icebreaker for “Soft Pins.” When it comes to songwriting, the band never disappoints, always so open and overflowing with raw emotion. “Copeland Heights” is a track more aligned with what people are usually more familiar with when it comes to the quintet. Acorda’s soft spoken vocals float along the track, enunciating the desire to endlessly soak in someone’s warmth. “‘Cause I’m scared of the days I’ll face without you / What a gift to have basked in your sun.” Putting ‘Sun Blanket’ next to the rest of the band’s discography, there’s quite a noticeable contrast when you compare it with their other music–but it’s a delightful step into a new direction, laden with optimism for what’s to come. When Megumi Acorda cast their net far and wide, they caught sentimental, audible treasure, turned golden by the sun. SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST: Sun Blanket by Megumi Acorda
ALBUM REVIEW: The Braille Flowers – Lilac Dreams of a Second-Degree Non-Conformist
Written by Noelle Alarcon If you’ve ever spent even a fraction of a minute in Manila’s local underground, chances are you’ve already witnessed The Braille Flowers in action. Whether they’re offering stickers as they wade through the crowd, or creating sonic magic with their instruments under neon lights, there’s no doubt that the band’s members are a welcome presence in the tight-knit communities of artists and enthusiasts alike that run within the scene. These nights down under, usually characterized by a selection of beer bottles, sweaty moshpits, and yosi breaks in the cool evening air, breathe life into The Braille Flowers’ debut album: ‘Lilac Dreams of a Second-Degree Non-Conformist.’ Long as the title may be, it’s a name that only begins to make sense when you bask in that specific feeling, punctuated by the haze of the guitar pedals and the album’s constant desire to live in a moment that a pariah of society’s rigid conventions can find solace and romance in. ‘Lilac Dreams…’ is a release that mirrors its scene predecessors; The Braille Flowers’ ability to write about vulnerability in a manner that sounds like small talk about the weather is similar to the air of nihilism that echoes from the lyrics of The Geeks. On the other hand, the way they couple quirky male vocals with jittery, pop rock influenced drums is reminiscent of We Are Imaginary’s captivating, dreamlike musical style. The album’s singles show The Braille Flowers’ strengths; they’ve mastered the art of creating a cohesive album that still shows their variety and flexibility. “Lately” is a sweet train of thought that steadily grows louder as the infatuation continues to blossom. It’s a track that lends its attention to the high of being in love, not shying away from the intensity it brings as kick drum focused-fills gradually escalate the impact of its catchy, sugary guitar riff. “The Magician Was Shot Dead (Scarlet Rivers),” on the other hand, peeks out from the band’s “popgaze” box. The raspier vocals and whispers that accompany its palm-muted rise to the climax complement each other well. The sharper edge of ‘Lilac Dreams…’ contributes to its ability to invoke nostalgia, a callback to the preference of 2010s alternative music for squeaky clean, sharp production that’s tied altogether with the bow of a powerful rhythm section. The Braille Flowers’ debut is self-expression at its best; the concept even shines through in the serene instrumentals that serve as interludes for the next sessions of reflection and rumination. Perhaps it’s a release that focuses on the peace brought by honesty. But as a record that banks on the intimacy of being understood, it could probably flesh out the euphoria brought by such an experience through a wider range of sounds and expressions. At the end of the day, maybe the utilization of such a specific sound is what makes ‘Lilac Dreams of a Second-Degree Non-Conformist’ the record that it is-–a lush, fuzz-filled dream that everyone can hold up a mirror to. It’s a blueprint for every other non-conformist’s personal manifesto, ready to accompany you when you get feelings too difficult to put into words. Support the art & the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: Linger Escape – We All End In The Same Place
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:
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: