The sixteenth of November was poised just like any other Friday night. Both north and southbound Friday night traffic were burning, while Route 196 stayed still, unassuming. Had you gone an hour early, you would’ve had no clue of the night to come. By eight o clock, a rush of people gathered by the front desk, and those manning the desk had trouble keeping up. The artists had arrived at this point as well, all armed with smiles tinged with a hint of nerves.
For some of the artists, Rites of Passage was their first plunge into the world of gigging. Route slowly filled up, which probably didn’t help with the gig jitters, but surely hyped them up as well. In no time, the venue was buzzing with excitement, with everyone just raring for the program to start. Save for a few technical difficulties, Rites of Passage Volume II was finally underway. Hosts Marga Magalong and Athenna Bigornia were met with a rapturous roar from the crowd. The fantasy had begun.
Our night began with acoustic pair, Cañao. They kicked things off with a cover of George Ezra’s Paradise. Instantly, the crowd was met with lush vocal harmonies and intricate guitar work. All eyes on the indie-folk duo, Cañao allured with their earthy and bare sensibility. The spectators swayed along to the sounds that recalled the mountain ranges of Ilocos Norte the duo grew up with. Though a bit timid initially, their voices soared higher, with the guitars following suit. The duo then kept rolling out the covers, showing the breadth of their influences. From The Paper Kites to Hozier, it was clear what Cañao was going for. The set was serene, yet vulnerable all throughout.
The next set of performers was a change of pace, to say the least. Mojo, from the get-go, oozed with charisma. The band jokingly busted out Bohemian Rhapsody at the start of the set, which was probably a cheeky reference to recent release of Freddie Mercury’s biopic (with the Mojo’s frontman dressed up as Freddie himself). Jokes aside, they carried this swagger throughout the performance. Mojo takes pride in its funk and jazz influences, with the band flexing their instrumental prowess in full (and funky) effect.
There certainly was hype for the next artist, Anja Javier. The O-Idol participant’s stripped-down take on electro-pop had created a bit of buzz around her. Utilizing live-loops, she builds songs from scratch, slowly building them from the ground up. Her renditions of It’s Strange by Louis The Child and Movie by Tom Misch were stripped bare, taking out the unnecessary. Still, the songs maintained their alluring quality. Occasionally, Anja would showcase her skill on the keys, particularly when her hands glided through octaves on Movie. Much of this skill took the back seat, however. The song always came first for Anja. After the covers, she finally played a couple of originals. Once again, Anja played much to the same vibe, but the originals were much more revealing, more potent. From pulsating bass lines to pearly key jabs, Anja flashed her versatility—and the crowd was loving it.
Where earlier act Mojo took funk vibes to a fever pitch, Morobe internalized their groove into a sultry, jazzier movement. They opened with a belting cover of UDD’s Sana, and followed with a line of originals. In a fashion reminiscent of somewhere where The Internet meets Santana, the lineup of veteran AMP musicians entranced the crowd in a groovy haze. The piano was whole bodied in shouldering lead singer Laean Angeles’ melodies. Her voice carried pain, but not sheer sadness and anger, but agony that strengthens and fortifies the worn soul. Their sound, as exemplified by the electric riffs, was a bright-eyed, jumpy take on murky sorrows. Route 196 was lit on fire by the end of their set as each member had his/her own moment to shine in a solo of his/her own. Slapping bass, ripping guitars, soulful piano, and banging drums: each hit and note sent the crowd in a frenzy to cap off Morobe’s set.
The first rock outfit of the night was Cheshire, comprised of older AMP members. With bangers up its sleeve, Cheshire was ready to rile the crowd up. Opening with the Cranberries’ Zombie, the members were fittingly clad in black (and eyeliner to match). The whole venue was bopping to the riffs and hard drumming. When the drummer started the classic intro drum sequence of Sugar We’re Goin Down, Route 196 was sent into rapture. Like punk gigs of old, the band incited a mosh pit. Some audience members even had to go outside to take a breather—it was that intense. The onslaught went on with a faithful rendition of Paramore’s My Heart and a thrasher take on Dangerous Woman. At this point, the venue was hot and heavy from all the jumping and sweating, and it was crazy to think the night was far from over.
The Quirks was welcomed with laughs as they took to the stage with printouts of the penguins of Madagascar taped on their shirts, and clout glasses on the drummer. Gimmicks aside, they cut right to business with their alternative rock sound. Pulsing guitar riffs and rolling drums characterised their set with a screaming, even roaring energy. The Quirks take elements of pop punk and washed over them with a distinctly OPM touch; a little like if Tanya Markova played Weezer. Admiration, then Ashtray were two originals they played that illustrated the coming-of-age soundtrack vibes they embodied, or why they’d fit in a Tony Hawk game playlist. In the middle of their schoolboy-romance tunes came another show of their humour with a snippet of Madagascar’s I Like To Move It. The Quirks, with their, well, quirks, showered Route with their infectious danceable rock tunes, and left everyone in a sweat.
In a fashion we can only describe as hyperkulit, Serotonin lived up to their name with their uptempo, loud, gritty synth-inflected rock. Playing all originals, these boys had the crowd soaring with their wide, vast soundscape of harmonic guitars and hip-swaying swing. Their vocals are equal parts suave crooning, and gritty growl, akin to Neon Trees’ Tyler Glenn. Despite Serotonin leading the Rites audience in their striking blend of The Killers and Last Dinosaur influences, the highlight of their set was their original Slow Down, which, as the name suggests, a well timed break from their breakneck tempos. It was a soothing balled delivered by a steady, counting guitar; quite reminiscent of something you’d hear at your prom. Their last song, in its dreamy fever, featured an interlude mix of Nadarang and Stupid Love by way of an alternative act you’d hear on FIFA.
Our night was rounded out by the well-anticipated rapper J-Coasta, who everyone in the room was well aware of. After releasing his own mixtape, the aliased Jasper Acosta didn’t play around. In no time, he unloaded banger upon banger with favorites such as his commanding Bounce On Your Feet, and a requested a capella rendition of Big **** Syndrome. J-Coasta played his own beats on his programmed iPad on stage as he spit his verses. Interestingly, he employed a mix of multiplex vocals and live layering over himself. This was an ambitious attempt at replicating his studio sound of tough gangster trap, which he killed. It was his confident grip on the mic, as well as his proud demeanor, that proved that J-Coasta was indeed a developed showman who craves to entertain.
Rites of Passage: Volume II was indeed a fantastic trial by fire for this year’s lineup of neophyte acts. Veteran, or newbie, what was clear was a consistent love for all forms of music and putting on a show for the yearning crowd. Volume I and Volume II - we had two nights for the books, witnessing the greats do their thing, and shred their hearts out the whole time.