What Did We Get in 2024? Some of the Best Opm on Vinyl

By Joey Salgado

What did we get in 2024? Let’s see. Not one but three vinyl records from Bini, a remastered iconic album from the Heads, a long-overdue debut from Lola Amour, and an outstanding live recording from Joey Ayala. Who said vinyl is dying?

Bini
“Feel Good”
“Born to Win”
“Talaarawan”

What a year for Bini. Sold-out shows, a heart-tugging documentary, the headliner for the New Year’s Eve Countdown in the heart of Makati, the financial district. What better way to thank the legions of Blooms than with this limited edition colored vinyl release of their first three albums from Star Records and OPM label Backspacer Records. It’s packed with exclusive merch, but that’s not the cherry on top.

Parasocial devotion mandates acquiring everything Bini. Turntables are optional in this case. Then again, if you’re a Bloom without a turntable, these records could be your gateway to the vinyl habit. Imagine the sheer joy of listening to the Nation’s Girl Group on a decent audio set up, tracking their musical journey with all the dynamics that a well-mastered record has to offer. You’ll never hear the songs on “Talaarawan” the same way again.

Eraserheads
“Cutterpillow”

For many fans and critics, “Cutterpillow” is peak Eraserheads. On their third album, the fun boys from Diliman turned into men with a mission to redraw pop music and culture. The songs are lyrically and sonically mature, complex and yes, at some point erudite. Hindsight, about 29 years worth, declares this album as a testament to their craft and longevity, a poke in the eye of naysayers who had dismissed them as a fleeting fascination.

Like the remastered “Ultraelectromagneticpop!” and “Circus,” eminent audio engineer Bernie Grundman works his magic on “Cutterpillow.” For my taste, I would rate “Circus” a bit higher in sound quality and a lot better in packaging. It’s a minor quibble that counts little for obsessive fans and record collectors. And it doesn’t diminish our respect for this landmark album. Still, a repackaged limited edition won’t hurt. Please? I’m looking at you, Offshore Music.

Mellow Dees
“Walls Might Melt”

It’s the most unlikely musical pairing. Melody del Mundo, the ethereal-voiced singer of Sugar Hiccup, and Wolf Gemora, skin pounder and instigator of hard rock/metal disruptors Wolfgang. Their names give off 90s vibes, but “Walls Might Melt,” their debut album as the Mellow Dees, doesn’t mine the decade as transcends it, with the smart addition of Robin Nievera, pop royalty scion, on guitar.

Gemora describes their music as “lounge punk.” I concur with the punk part, but there’s nothing tranquil or chill about the album, especially on tracks such as “Laman” and “Sakim.” On “Sakim,” a Filipino version of “Amber Alert,” also on this album, Del Mundo spits out her contempt for the song’s unnamed subject; a former lover, perhaps, or a national figure? “Laman,” on the other hand, pouts with obsessive carnal desires, flesh not as fantasy but offering. Throughout the album, Del Mundo’s lyrics and singing exude venom and vulnerability. A second album is most welcome.

Lola Amour
“Lola Amour”

I’m a sucker for bands with horn sections. Throw in earwormy lyrics and melodies and you’ve got the formula for Lola Amour’s monster hit “Raining in Manila.”

Lola Amour has been an indie darling for years. “Raining in Manila” sent this pop-funk collective to the stratosphere, amassing gazillions of streams on Spotify and earning a guest slot at Coldplay’s Manila concert. The album took a while to release, but the wait is worth it. How big is the band? They’re not yet the rainy season equivalent of Christmastime Jose Mari Chan, but they’re getting there.

As sure as it rains in September, someone somewhere in the country will share the music video, the memes, or quote lines from the chorus at the slightest drizzle. “Raining in Manila” has become a shorthand for rainy day flirting or harmless weather commentary.

Joey Ayala at ang Bagong Lumad
“Live at the 70s Bistro”

Very few, if any, live recordings of local artists have succeeded in capturing the energy of the moment, the unseen cosmic points of light connecting performer and artist, the transformation of an otherwise perfunctory roll out of hits into a magical event. This album comes close.

At 68, Joey Ayala still knows how to engage a crowd with light banter to soften, but not undermine, the harsh truths of his classic songs. Recorded over the course of two sold out shows at the venerable 70s Bistro, Ayala delivers more than a set list of greatest hits but a reengagement, a reminder that certain higher truths are immutable, and his songs of strife and struggle, of love and longing, resonate with our current realities.