In the universe of Labit’s stirring debut album, ‘SOL,’ a vintage Buick LeSabre is more than a car; it is a sanctuary on wheels, a vessel of memory, and a direct inheritance from his grandmother, Solita. It is here, in the back seat of this familial relic, that the Filipino-American singer-songwriter, born Stephen Ordoñez, places the video for “PARALLEL,” capturing the beautiful, clarifying moment of finding love right beside you. This nostalgic nod is the perfect entry point to an album that is, at its heart, a widescreen coming-of-age statement built from kitchen-table wisdom, late-night truth-talks, and hard-won self-belief.
Across eighteen diaristic tracks, ‘SOL’ turns the deeply personal fragments of a life—the scent of ripening mangoes, the hum of a refrigerator at night, the quiet strength of a grandmother’s counsel—into a cinematic narrative that feels both intimately lived-in and expansively universal.
Labit masterfully blends honeyed vocals with warm analog textures, creating a sonic palette that moves with fluid grace from soft-focus nostalgia to full-colour uplift. The album’s emotional arc is a nuanced journey, opening with the inviting plea of “STAY AWHILE” before navigating the sharp, percussive interruption of “BREAK!” and the tender self-examinations of “PRETTY” and “CLOUD.”
He effortlessly captures the anxious comedy of modern adulthood in the brilliantly titled “ALL MY PLANTS ARE DYING” and the tentative connections of “CLICK,” proving his gift for pairing distinctive melodies with unfiltered emotional depth. This journey finds its powerful core in the advance singles, which sketch a map of his heart. The radical honesty of “CLEANING OUT THE FRIDGE,” a stunning duet with Emily Rowed, serves as a masterclass in metaphor, airing out emotional baggage with a sense of necessary, cathartic cleansing. This act of making space allows for the nourishing heritage of “MANGOES AND RICE,” an intimate love letter to his Filipino-American upbringing that feels less like a song and more like a cherished conversation with his sister, its warmth and sense of community palpable.
The recurring motifs of cars, kitchens, and changing seasons tie the album’s chapters together, grounding its widescreen ambitions in the tangible world. From the late-night confessions that spill into sunrise on “FEBRUARY” to the quiet resilience of choosing the right person in “BETTER,” Labit’s conversational writing keeps the storytelling disarmingly close.
As he reflects, “‘SOL’ is me taking stock of who raised me, what shaped me, and how to move forward with grace.” This graceful navigation of identity and memory is clearly resonating across the globe, particularly throughout Southeast Asia, where his singles have earned spots on Spotify’s New Music Friday playlists from the Philippines to Vietnam, with Asian markets like India, Indonesia, and Thailand dominating his listenership.
The album’s final act delves into the complexities of connection with “CODEPENDENT” and the open-ended uncertainty of “ANYBODY’S GUESS,” before culminating in the stunning title track, “SOL.” This quiet, devastating dedication is the album’s heart, the place where his grandmother’s name, compassion, and influence coalesce into a single, powerful moment of gratitude. For Labit, ‘SOL’ is the sound of finding clarity not in grand answers, but in the messy, beautiful process of growth itself—a debut that transforms personal history into a universal anthem of vulnerability and grace.
Rome is a freelance writer and photographer. He brings a fresh perspective to the indie music scene and highlights emerging artists and underground movements. His writing style is drawn from personal experiences and a deep love for the art form.