Written by Noelle Alarcon So far, the 2020s have proved to be an era engulfed in the novelty of remakes. It’s evident in recreations of films from decades ago, the return of cuts and fabrics popularized by your parents’ generation, and the like. In this age of pastiche milked dry by major corporations, it’s artists like Man Made Evil that show everyone how authenticity can breathe new life into the past. ‘Dear Baby From Malate’ is over five minutes of stripped-down brilliance; a track mixed like a live performance. The instruments are put together in a way that sounds like you’re right next to them, welcoming and fitting for the romantic swagger the song’s words carry. Its singsongy background vocals add to its chummy appeal; a song that is as catchy as it is intricate. The track’s brash vocals mesh together perfectly with its guitars, which let overdrive take the reins in shaping the body of the song. It’s reminiscent of local 70s acts like the Juan Dela Cruz Band, whose discography carries both bark and bite. Similar to its predecessors, “Dear Baby From Malate” is also hinged on creative riffs, a smug, patterned rhythm section for support, and incredibly casual lyrics. Just when the song calms down for its soft “ooh, ooh, oohs,” it lets loose some more, until the audible release of energy fades to its eventual end. “Mapa rockers man o punks na long hair, tiyak hindi lahat wagi diyan,” sings the band, their easygoing, “it is what it is” attitude towards love infectious. Passion oozes out of the track, from the earnest references of their inspirations to the witty tongue in cheek it carries throughout its run. ‘Dear Baby From Malate’ is a reminder to take it easy; authenticity will always get you by, in the end. “Ganito talaga sa mundong ibabaw.” SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST: Dear Baby From Malate by Man Made Evil
Tag: Track Review
TRACK REVIEW: geiko – No Way Now
Written by Louis Pelingen “No Way Now” is a song that has more weight to geiko than anyone else. A change in tone and sound where she confronts a connection that used to be endearingly close but is now tousled and cut away, a narrative ruffled through shuffling, dreamy pop-rock flutters that’s additionally produced by Jad Lara. Adding light percussion, glossy synths, and reverbed guitars that complement geiko’s more somber singing, just before the guitar solo swerves and she starts releasing her anger at that past relationship. Whilst not exactly a remarkable song – drums sound lighter than they should, chorus doesn’t hook strongly, and geiko’s release of anger stumbles more than it is anguishing – the gradual change of her sound ever since the release of “Palapit Sa U” offers growth for her as a musician. Perhaps, in wading through the past, she ends up somewhere refreshing. Growth ends up like that, after all. SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST:
TRACK REVIEW: Nateman, Lucky – IMMA FLIRT
Written by Adrian Jade Francisco Imma review! At times, local hip-hop sidesteps sentiment and wit. But at most parts, it goes straight for your earworms. From drill, bass-heavy therapy sessions to R&B late-night text tracks, Nateman and Lucky’s latest collaboration is a quantum leap towards the realm of the unpredictable. Is their latest single “IMMA FLIRT” silly? Yes. Is it worth skipping? Not at all. The Pasayeño’s ninth single of 2025, ‘IMMA FLIRT,’ featuring Lucky, is an R&B-infused hip-hop track that samples R. Kelly’s ‘I’m a Flirt (Remix).’ Nateman and Lucky’s verses seep into the track like smoke from hand-rolled papers. With repetitive, cheeky lyrics such as “Imma flirt, pag napadaan mga chicks dito sa hood” or “Soundtrip si Curse One, chorus at verse niya—ako daw first niya,” it sounds campy at first, but it gets infectious thanks to the melodic hook and production. ‘IMMA FLIRT’ doesn’t stretch the rapper’s soundscape nor a nod to his previous Drill releases. His recent tracks are more of a smirk, with a question tucked behind them—whether the hip-hop artist will eventually branch out of his usual late-night R&B lane. Despite that, the track is an unintentional case of brain rot that lingers for hours on end. “IMMA FLIRT” won’t change Nateman’s catalog but it just might hijack your ears. For something so unserious, it takes its catchiness seriously. SUPPORT THE ART & THE ARTIST:
TRACK REVIEW: Ada Meniv – Placenta
Written by Lex Celera Ada Meniv is a solo project by Philippines-born, Hong Kong-based producer, instrumentalist, vocalist, and sometimes rapper, Tisch Nava. Beginning with 2024’s ‘THE ONLY WAY THROUGH IS OUT,’ Ada Meniv’s music doesn’t feel like a loaded experiment in genre-blending as much as it is an assertion of taste and aesthetics. In laying bare the connective tissue between dark ambient, progressive metal, rap, and grunge, their tracks echo each genre’s most resonant qualities: an intensity of emotion and a stylistic choice to break convention. All of these qualities are realized to a greater extent with “Placenta.” Compared to Adam Meniv’s other releases, “Placenta” presents itself as more restrained in exploring its aesthetic impulses, with a third of its runtime meditating on a grunge-inspired riff. At the same time, esoteric wordplay and ethereal chants come together without wearing out their welcome. Its genre switching comes in turn and in healthy doses. Ada Meniv is more than capable of straight-up pursuing a dark ambient or grunge track worth listening to. But “Placenta” presents something more interesting than just embracing the abstractions that defined its sonic foundations. Neither the tinges of grunge-driven riffs nor the droning, trap-inspired rap would work as well without each other’s presence, taking turns. You don’t have to destroy to build something new. We might live in a world where genres are being pushed to their farthest ends in the name of experimentation. Ada Meniv seeks out new meaning from within instead. SUPPORT THE ART & THE ARTIST:
TRACK REVIEW: Gabriel Lazaro – slam dance
Written by Louis Pelingen In every new song that Gabriel Lazaro puts out, there is a drift that pulls him into a sandstorm. His hand at experimental jazz and rock continues to be tested at every turn. “Slam dance” is no different, as all the galloping drums and layers of ragged acoustics and electric guitars build towards a melodic crescendo that explodes, and eventually breaks off into a wall of gentle vocals that repeats their soft mantra. Besides the warping progression it creates, Gabriel Lazaro does not get subsumed, more so, keeps his foot on the ground as his raw tone provides a chilling command within the conversational poetry. Singing like a preacher, spreading absolute knowledge to those who will hear. Telling the listener to go through various changes and decisions, one that will set them free from the evils that they hide within themselves. For all that buildup, “Slam Dance” still feels like a part of Gabriel Lazaro’s journey in terms of truly landing the sound and mood that he’s been trying to craft for himself, where his direction with his compositions and intensity keeps wandering rather than truly hitting its mark. It’s a song that stumbles on pulling off its chaotic and serene dance, but does provide a semblance of hope towards getting close to a slam dunk. Support the art and the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: SAINT LAWRENCE – SO U
Written by JK Caray Sometimes, The Best Thing Ever™ disguises itself as something arbitrary. In the case of SAINT LAWRENCE, his debut track “SO U” first came from that familiar itch of needing to create something, despite all limitations. Made out of a awkwardly tuned guitar, a catchy hook, and the feeling of losing your spark, “SO U” is a song about burnout that ironically helped its writer avoid burning out. Right from the start, nothing could prepare you for the intense wave of emotions. The eclectic drum patterns and rigid glitches convey a sense of helplessness, being bitter at one’s predicament. The production is flawless for a debut track, with little elements like the occasional glitch adding to the steely vibe. Here, SAINT LAWRENCE’s performance is brooding yet intimate, carefully alternating between soft whispers and screaming with all the guts he can muster. Each detail builds into a satisfying breakdown that washes everything along with it. It’s a once-in-a-blue-moon moment whenever an upcoming artist defines precisely what they want to do with their music, but it’s as if the stars aligned for SAINT LAWRENCE, given how polished his craft is. “SO U” not only provides a backdrop of what’s to come, it shoves you headfirst into the mayhem that is SAINT LAWRENCE. Support the art & the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: MISTER MEYERS – LAYUAN MO NA AKO
Written by Jax Figarola MISTER MEYERS’ “LAYUAN MO NA AKO” is a heartbreak spiral. Compared to the glitchy, melodic sprawl of his hip-hop mixtape last year called Meister Eyres, this latest track keeps his signature eclecticism, but punctuates it with heavier percussion and a more confrontational edge. And just like his previous works, he scores his emotional distress with a soundbite from a pop culture ephemera: a Raffy Tulfo interview. The flow is magnetic and the rhymes are slick, sure, but there’s an uneasy flattening of the woman in question. The woman in question is a hollow characterization that leans into the cliché of the manipulative ex-girlfriend without interrogating the trope. It positions her as a moralistic foil, a one-dimensional saboteur in the story of his downfall. Her presence is merely symbolic for him to contrast his own fragility and effort. What makes it worse is how intentional the framing feels, how the song relishes in the act of blaming her, while dramatizing the wounds he claims to carry. Additionally, from any angle, it feels unlikable to posture and dismissively insinuate the woman as stupid. One of the lines in the chorus evokes a common trope in rap: that a woman’s inability to “get” a man justifies cutting her off. It’s reductive, but here, it’s delivered with such naked petulance that it becomes pitiful. Still questionable, but probably the least violent expression of the trope we’ve seen in Filipino rap in recent years. Then again, to give the benefit of the doubt, maybe that’s just what really happened. MISTER MEYERS might just be speaking from a place of hurt that hasn’t had the language to process itself with care. He sketches a masculine persona caught between ego and exhaustion, desperately trying to reassert control over his emotions as a man who was done dirty. Moreover, the effort to list sacrifices becomes a coping mechanism, rather than a flex, if juxtaposed to the rest of the song. If read this way, the song becomes less of an attack, and more of a portrait of someone performing strength in his own way. Nevertheless, it’s always a risk when narratives like this regarding women circulate. In Filipino rap, they can normalize certain emotional patterns as justified without being questioned. Still, “LAYUAN MO NA AKO” thrives as a track because of its production. It’s very hard to resist the theatricality of this bass-heavy bravado and the way the hook wriggles into your brain until you’re singing and feeling the masculine persona. Sonically, it’s just fun. It’s the kind of feel-good track tailor-made for those who’ve had their own crazy ex-girlfriend moment and just want to scream “bitch, teka lang!” Regardless of its lyrics, the track is undeniably a guilty pleasure with its impressive production. SUPPORT THE ART & THE ARTIST:
TRACK REVIEW: Your #1 Fan – Radio Transmission
Written by Gabriel Bagahansol Every artist starts out as a fan. You get exposed to all the ways people express themselves and enjoy it so much that you’d want to take a shot at it yourself. So just as the name “Your #1 Fan” suggests, Nica Feliciano started out living and breathing music – frequenting gigs in the underground music scene; playing bass guitar for bands such as Bird Dens, Thirds, and The Purest Blue; and even putting up her own indie rock shows. It was inevitable that Your #1 Fan would eventually be expanded into a music project; that time has come with the release of her debut single, “Radio Transmission.” The wonder and curiosity of being a fan is manifested in the music and lyrical themes of this song, a space rock ballad that sails like a probe traversing the cosmos. But the story remains mostly within the Earth’s atmosphere: here, Nica longs to make contact with somebody she loves who’s in another part of the world, wanting to know whether there’s a place for her in their heart even though they’re so far apart. The imagery of satellite communication courses through these lyrics, as it does in the music, with beeps and pulses that sound like incoming signals peppered throughout the song, which plays at a tempo meant to relive the grandeur of space travel. However, the song picks up speed halfway through as Nica begins to blur the boundaries between the vast distance of two lovers on opposite sides of the Earth and our collective smallness within the universe. It no longer matters that life means we’re all tiny figures tethered to an ultimately tiny place: as long as she makes contact with the one she loves, the concept of dimensions just fades away. Whenever we define ourselves with the celestial bodies, we often look to the Moon and its chase towards the Sun, or our relation with the stars, or even the depth of the unknown. Therefore, to hear an exploration on the celestial bodies we ourselves have created, and how we used our discoveries of outer space to bring us closer to one another no matter where we are in the world, is refreshing for once. Which brings us back to the cyclical nature of the making of an artist: we take what we find in the artists that we love and make something from that for ourselves. With “Radio Transmission,” Your #1 Fan has successfully taken that one small step as an artist, and as Nica continues to release more music and plays more shows with this project, people can certainly look forward to the great leaps ahead. Who knows? You could become Your #1 Fan’s no. 1 fan. SUPPORT THE ART AND THE ARTIST:
TRACK REVIEW: VVINK – Tulala
Written by Noelle Alarcon Filipino production house FlipMusic is known for being the genius behind some of the hottest OPM tunes, may it be Ron Henley and Pow Chavez’s bouncy rap song “Biglang Liko,” or even Nica del Rosario’s politically motivated serenade “Rosas.” In this current era that’s experiencing an influx of Pinoy Pop groups debuting left and right, from the easygoing AJAA to the versatile KAIA, it’s no surprise that FlipMusic has played a part in steering the direction of P-Pop’s sound. They’ve gained plenty of praise for mastering the recipe of bubblegum pop–after all, they are the masterminds behind some of BINI’s most beloved hits, such as “Pantropiko” and “Salamin, Salamin.” Taking a step further in pushing P-Pop to greater heights, FlipMusic debuted its own girl group, VVINK, with the release of their debut single, “Tulala,” on July 10. It’s evident that P-Pop is influenced by the sounds of the Hallyu Wave, and FlipMusic skillfully takes from K-Pop’s “a little bit of this, a little bit of that” approach, where the music acts as an auditory stage. It’s a playing field that focuses on showcasing the idols’ learned prowess, honed by their dedication to training. In the three minutes and 26 seconds of the song, its simple yet carefully constructed structure showcases the talent and charisma possessed by the five girls of VVINK. The synths that open the song catch your attention, pulsing and full of energy, matching the explosive vocals of the members. What about a bouncy rap part immediately greeting you in the second verse? An impactful bass drop for a dance break? Truly, VVINK makes the most out of “Tulala’s” runtime, sonically putting out all of their strengths for the budding fan to admire. Make no mistake, despite the different ways “Tulala” pulls from its many influences, it is purely and thoroughly P-Pop, from start to finish. In the various ways the girls project their voices, you can’t help but hear the bubblegum pop roots that were planted over a decade ago. They’re a little coy, a little sincere, and a little fierce, carrying the torch passed onto them by the discographies of artists like Nadine Lustre and Donnalyn Bartolome. With an addictive bassline and a mesmerizing guitar solo added into the mix, FlipMusic’s extensive understanding of pop music truly shows. Of course, VVINK covers all the bases. “Tulala” also bears the standard pop music cheesiness of its ancestors–the way its lyrics fall off the girls’ tongues makes it an easy earworm. “Ano ba ‘tong ang diyahe?” They sing with earnestness, followed by their collective “OMG” in the background, full of life and ‘kilig.’ They even came prepared with word play: “If I’m your lady, I’ll go ga-ga, your baby goo-goo, ga-ga.” From the onomatopoeias to the expressions of a pounding heart, VVINK recalls the feeling of having a schoolgirl crush with ease. Understanding what makes pop music pop is a skill, and FlipMusic’s capability to do so has granted them the ability to make music that captivates the ears of Filipinos all over the nation. It’s exciting to see the places VVINK will go and how their talents will help in shaping the sonic landscape of P-Pop.
TRACK REVIEW: K – Dilim (feat. LORY)
Written by Anika Maculangan After releasing her debut EP Gabi ng Lagim in 2024, K follows up with her first collaboration, “Dilim,” a single featuring LORY. In the track, what emerges is less a duet and more a convergence; two voices moving through the same storm, not hand in hand, but aware of each other’s shadows. The track doesn’t open the door gently; it surges into the room. From the first downstroke, its intent is not to be misunderstood, but rather, to dislodge, to engulf, and to hum beneath the flesh like a second skin. “Dilim” feels like reading a letter written in a language you once knew, every line familiar but just out of reach, each word flickering at the edge of meaning. The guitars churn like static caught between radio frequencies, and the drums tick forward with the cold precision of a dying clock. K doesn’t sing, she pries sound out of her sternum, each note arriving cracked, as if it’s already lived through the pain it’s meant to express. LORY, whispered but no less real, dances upon the spaces between, like smoke tracing the lines in a windowpane. The track is not linear; it sways, it plunges, it crests in unsymmetrical waves. There is a studied vagueness to it, as though the track had been constructed underwater, under silt and memory. Emotion rises like steam, hot and ephemeral, but the form never coagulates. It’s a song more sensed than taped; held together by mood, not motion. There’s beauty in that blur, and restlessness. The weight is there, yes, but where is it? The track hangs on without completely falling apart. Despite all its weight, there’s a feeling of something withheld, not due to mystery, but restraint. A tremor that doesn’t end in collision. But to define “Dilim” in what it does not have would be inaccurate. There is clarity in its ambiguity, there is comfort as well. Something does not always have to come in whole or in its entirety. Some music is scaffolding; empty frameworks where people superimpose their own ruin, their own fixing. “Dilim” does that. It does not thrust sorrow onto the stage, but offers it. It doesn’t demand anything of its listeners, but allows for them to make the song their own, whichever shape it morphs into, depending on its beholder. And perhaps that is its goal; not to enlighten, but to resonate. Not to answer, but to ring true. The sort of song that doesn’t speak at you but to you. SUPPORT THE ART & THE ARTIST: