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Sandwich keeps it ‘kaswal’
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Sandwich keeps it ‘kaswal’

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Kaswal,” the latest EP from the alternative rock band Sandwich, couldn’t have a more fitting title. The word, the front man Raymund Marasigan said, perfectly describes the group’s current state of mind, which is to say, well … “casual.”

At this point in their careers, Marasigan, bassist Myrene Academia, drummer Mike Dizon, and guitarists Diego Castillo and Mong Alcaraz would rather keep things simple, unpretentious, and carefree. This is especially true in how the band approach songwriting—and in the way the songs ultimately sound.

“Casual” was how they came up with the idea of releasing the six-track EP in the first place.

Basically, they had a bunch of songs lying around—many of which were composed during the pandemic—so why not put them together? It would be a waste to just keep them hidden in the vault.

“We have so much material because we have been on studio mode the past five years. During the lockdown, we didn’t have a choice but to work from home and write on our own. But now that we’re together again, we get to edit, work on the songs that had piled up,” Alcaraz told a small group of reporters at a recent launch gig for “Kaswal” (PolyEast Records).

“We had been releasing singles and, at some point, we were like, ‘Let’s add a couple more songs, finish this up, and casually release them as an EP,” Marasigan added. “Nothing formal.”

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Inspiration

True enough, “casual” was the manner in which the inspiration for the songs struck.

The guitar-driven rock track “Nyare?” was born from a broken guitar riff that Castillo forgot he had recorded on his phone.

Hoping to find an apt musical bed for his YouTube videos, Dizon rummaged through Castillo’s unfinished instrumentals. Instead, he ended up writing over one of such demos, laying the foundation for what would become “Ibang Araw na Lang”—a song about being in denial that love has already run its course.

The words to “Tag-araw,” meanwhile, were a collection of Castillo’s stream of consciousness and random rantings while on a trip to Tuguegarao one scorching day in the summer of 2024: “Pawis na pawis na ‘ko!” “Basa na singit ko!” “Sana nag-Baguio na lang tayo.”

“We listed everything Diego said while we were in the van. And then somehow, it ended up becoming a song,” Marasigan said.

Twenty-seven years and still rocking.

Similarly, the kundiman-esque “Morena,” an ode to the typical Filipina’s deep, sun-kissed complexion, was inspired by the things they see on the road—in this case, the ubiquitous ads for skin-whitening products.

“People in other countries love our skin tone so much. Not to say I’m anti-gluta (thione). But you know, we just want to celebrate the color most of us have,” Marasigan said.

“Tag-ulan na Naman,” with its slick 1970s disco vibe, defies

the band’s other, more devastatingly visceral rain-themed compositions like “Putik.” “Most of our rainy season songs are somber, stormy. This time, we wanted something that sounds celebratory just because,” Marasigan said.

“Casual” is also how the band deals with the everyday distractions, rage baits, and heated topics that having you itching to engage—at least only this one time. But as they point out in the funky “‘Wag Ka na Lang Kumagat,” sometimes, you’re better off picking your battles.

Diego Castillo, Mike Dizon, Raymund Marasigan, Mong Alcaraz, Myrene Academia

Not careless

“It’s about our triggers, like horrible traffic, something bad a friend said, or something you read online. Of course, you can bite the bullet when things get serious. But the little things, you just have to let go. Huwag mo na lang patulan,” Marasigan said.

“Casual,” however, doesn’t mean careless. Yes, many of these songs took shape organically, at times almost by accident. But when it came down to it, and once the actual work process started, they were as experimental and meticulous as they could possibly be.

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They played with funk and Afrobeat, dipped their toes in Jersey Drill type beats, and tested the limits of harana and traditional folk by imbuing them with more modern, foreign influences, like Brazilian Tropicália and even spaghetti Western motifs. And all the while, they made sure that the sound they created still evokes the raucous energy and head-bobbing groove Sandwich is known for.

Now, this is something they don’t take casually. “While it’s fun to experiment, you have to know when to pull back. The goal is to make sure that the music still sounds like Sandwich,” Marasigan said.

But even then, they aren’t the type to take themselves too seriously. The members has been at it for a whopping 27 years now, but you would never hear its members get all grumpy and see them embroiled in a generational pissing contest. They’re rock stars, alright, but they’re never too cool for what’s new and what the kids do.

“If you ever hear me say something like, ‘It’s better in the old days,’ batukan niyo na ako, please. I always look forward to figuring out how to use the things that are available now,” Academia said.

“You can’t get stuck with your old ways,” Alcaraz stressed.

There’s TikTok for one. You won’t exactly see the members doing dance challenges, but they do embrace the app, whether for personal and professional use. “We get by with the help of the young ones. We trust them and we welcome their ideas,” Academia said.

“Social media has made the world smaller. Now you can hear our music from anywhere in the world. And all these things are exciting. We can’t claim to be experts, but we’re always open to learn,” Castillo said.

“It’s nice to be comfortable,” Academia added. “But excitement in life lies in what you don’t know.”

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