Rating:

Sound's paradoxical, cityscape portrait and potion-smearing fusion of acid jazz, funk, drum n bass, electronica and bossa nova has pummeled bombastic reviews and critical raves with 2002's debut, Bossa Manila. Four years passed, and Sound with all its grit and experimental brouhahas, throws in once again the laidback cum club-banger poison of its debut and welcomes eagerly the atmospheric morose of confusion, emotional outbursts, rain, masks and all inevitable dark…but all lightened up by smooth and somber rhythms, lounging ecstasy and magic-hour glow of hearts emblazoned and hopes awakened and revived. Which brings us to Sound's sophomore pop-jazz/beat fusion release Blue Monsoon, a sketching metaphor of what it is to be sorrowful, miserable but at the same time, hopeful. Again, emphasis on Sound's penchant for paradox.

Routing on Ibiza-Manila-Rio with the slouching chill-out beats that vibes and electrifies through magnetic keyboard arrangements, campy-jazz improvisations, the rhythm section's laidback but sterile form and Sach's steady yet iceberg-melting crooning – Sound impressively taps between the blurred lines of classic and modern elegance. However, the tightness of Sound's distinctive, sonic glitters slackens off as you radiate too much from its similarly explored territories and it's corrupting vagueness – sure enough that your uncool sister would dismiss it as "the songs sound the same" and "lackadaisically boring."

There's unbearable truth with most of Sound's songs echoing identical patterns with each other and tending to be boring sometimes (boring is the new cool). From the commencing instrumental exercises of title track "Blue Monsoon" to the slackening caress of "Maskarahan," Sound hardly strays away from the crisp, laidback electronica-tinged jazz that brings the beach people, the hipsters and the conyo party ravers in one ceiling. But no one's complaining since with all its charming music fusion and chillax vibe – Sound opens the salvo for more than a heap of satisfaction, but also the challenge to make the similar template-sounding, GROUNDBREAKING.

Sound's Blue Monsoon has nothing to do with intelligible lyrics and enough know-how on philosophical gray areas, but what they lacked in profound catchphrases are decomposed on inventive musical ideas, pensive and deepening melodies and languid sound gestures so perfect it suggests vertigo effects. "Bagong Siglo," the eerily atmospheric "From A to B" and the tribute to Manila Sound, "Maynila" lets its listener to stick into its grooves and overpowering charisma that hooks into a dance of somber and mental exercise. Same goes with Jamiroquoai-approved "The trouble with me" and the hypnotically arresting, sleep-while-awake anthem "Idlip," which clocks out so shortly, that you missed out the passing of minutes with a glint of innocence. Blue Monsoon does its control of gravity towards the people who dares to listen, and its tough to get away from a strong magnet of force that hugs you comfortably like one soft pillow. Really it's not just a great sonic experience, but also a physical one that makes you stay on your bed for years and wait for someone to drop by and quench your hunger for love, solace and an intimate dancing partner in bed.

It doesn't hurt to listen to deep, laidback grooves that sound all similar as long as it's Sound who's brewing the right ingredients. Whether it's hypnotic discos made elegant by jazz and urban undertones or the straight-up soulful funk reminiscent of 70's Motown – Sound is all else that's hooking and vibrant, which makes waking up early in the morning and going to bed after that exhaustive work – a chillaxing experience. No need for illegal medicines and coffee.