Music Monday: ‘Birdy’ by Birdy

I almost let this nightingale pass me by.

When pop singers are a dime a dozen nowadays, with one chirping on about how she would love you like a love song, baby, another going Friday, Friday, Friday, and oh, that one buzzing about baby, baby, baby, oh… It may not seem fair, but you tend to somehow tune them all out in a general perspective, and just listen to the other flocks of rookies that matter more.

Birdy caught my attention entirely, when I heard her rendition of the Grammy-winning indie folk singer Bon Iver’s Skinny Love in one of the episodes of The Vampire Diaries. (Oh, shut up, at least they don’t sparkle, and they have nicer abs to look at). As much as I love what Justin Vernon has to offer, personally, I thought Birdy instead nailed it clean when it comes to the mood of a skinny love, a kind of fragile love that if not careful, painfully breakable. With the authenticity from the piano, every pedalling and creak of the strings can be heard if you listen real carefully, and a voice that seems to have gone through three hells and back, singing: “And I told you to be patient / And I told you to be fine / And I told you to be balanced / And I told you to be kind”, you cannot help but feel regret for asking more than this delicate can already give, and in return, destroyed it.

Imagine my surprise when I caught wind that this little Birdy, with such weathered vocals, is only 15 years old.

Born Jasmine van den Bogaerde, Birdy grew up in a musically-inclined family and takes on after her mother who is a concert pianist. She shot into the spotlight when she took part in UK’s famed talent contest Open Mic UK, when she was only a wee lass of 12, and emerged victorious out of 10,000 competitors, winning both the Under-18 category and the Grand Prize.

Birdy released her self-titled debut late last year with 14th Floor Records, home of like-minded heartbreakers like Damien Rice, Ray LaMontagne, David Gray, Nerina Pallot and Joshua Radin. Testing out the grounds as a singer/songwriter, save for the original Without a Word, practically all of the songs on the album are covers, which consists of tracks like Skinny Love, which peaked in the Top 20 charts in the UK upon release, 1901 by Phoenix, Young Blood by Naked and The Famous, People Help the People by Cherry Ghost, The District Sleeps Alone Tonight by The Postal Service and Shelter by The XX. What she has to contribute to the already renowned numbers, however, were a glaze of gloominess with her bountiful piano renditions, and captured hearts with a vocal talent that is a cross between the younger and moodier versions of Adele and Florence Welch of Florence and the Machine.

Yet. It is a hit-and-miss for Birdy’s debut, to be honest. While Skinny Love may have gotten my attention, and intrigued me to go through that door, which I almost overlooked, into her little secret garden, not everything I heard from her were gems. Whilst that raw coat she has for I’ll Never Forget You by Francis and The Lights threatens break down, and the crying cello and inspirational tone for People Help the People shows the silver lining in times of such desperation, like comforting embraces to run to for solace, there are some things that are not meant to be fixed if they are not broken. And I notice it is mostly the ones with the need for beats to build a kind of climax, like The District Sleeps Alone Tonight, Shelter and Comforting Sounds by Mew. I can grow to love them. I have. But I suppose, you need that build up Mew created to really feel it when the 4:32 minutes long instrumental turmoil commences. After hearing the original, something does seem to be missing when it is only a string quartet in replacement. Instead of a jarring hit, it was more of a gradual ease.

As mentioned before, I do not go far when it comes to cover singers. I would much prefer to see them go through the test of time and creativity, singing and writing their own originals. But I would have to say, my eyes are on this sparrow, and I am looking forward to many more grey sky mornings with her soothing voice. Preferably only of her performing more original songs though. Birdy has gotten the world’s attention with her voice. Now that she is kicked off the nest, all there is left is to see how good and far she can fly.

W: OfficialBirdy.com
T: @OfficialBirdy

Local Wednesday: ‘Yesterday is a Distant Dream’ by OJ Law

I met the indie soultrocktronica singer/songwriter OJ Law at a party. And yes, I raised my inquisitive yet humoured eyebrow at him when he mentioned his supposed genre. Usually, I would not let my friends drag me out to anything when I’m feeling like this, but they insisted it’s going to be good for me, going to take my mind off things – off him, going to bring some light into my life again. Well. Of course, it was a mistake. (Which reminds me of the song Anti Social Scene by Ferns, but that’s for another post altogether). I detached myself from the bustling party downstairs with a bottle of beer I probably would not finish anyway, being the lightweight that I am, and headed up to the rooftop of the building, where I met him.

For some reason, it always seems easier to tell a near stranger what’s going through your head, as opposed to friends who just want what’s good for you, and wants you to move on to something better. Plenty more fish in the sea, as they always say. Somehow, strangers are less inclined to do that. Strangers are too polite to tell you how to run your life because they barely know you. So, mostly, they just listen, and most of the time, that’s really just what I need.

I am getting tired of telling this same old story over and over again to many a-friends who care. Bless their souls. I decided that night it would be the last time I tell anyone this, because it’s getting repetitive: “About some guy in her life / How he left her traumatized / ‘I don’t know why I love him so’” and “She was lost and was looking for a guide / Someone to love and to confide in”.

This city is killing me, I told him over the phone one night. As much prospects and excitements and life it has to offer, compared to my hometown up North, every inch of urban decay is slowly seeping into my being and taking the life out of me with such irony: “Into a crowd of delectable people / Where hands are gripped so tight / Beverages downed / As we dance to the sound of the city / So alive”.

So fake.

On the other end of the line, I heard him straighten himself up from his bed, and instinctively he said: “Why don’t we go and take a trip, and get away somewhere?” And that was what we did for a long while, throughout this friendship of ours that seemed to sprout out like wild grass from between a couple of uneven bricks on the fire escape wall. We didn’t go far. We couldn’t go far. He, a musician making ends meet. Me, a writer trying to get by. But nonetheless, we went to places that substitute the better destinations.

We went to Port Dickson, a place with sand and a sky so blue. We went up to Ampang Point, see the city lights, a view for two – and some bazillion couples more shuffling about in the dark around us. (Awkwardddd…). We could hop on a plane, but we didn’t. We tried, but security caught up to us before we boarded that AirAsia flight out to Australia without boarding passes. So, we decided to ride a bus instead, take a road trip cross country to the Eastern coast, pretending it was Gold Coast with his theme parks and huge surfing waves. We made plans to sail across the seas to East Malaysia, and maybe hike up Mount Kinabalu when we’re there. But alas. We decided it was too far. But mostly, because the idea of leaving some place we have grown so comfortable with scares us. We just didn’t tell each other that.

And one day, he called me up at work and said he wrote a song about us. Like an old record spinning on the gramaphone from another world, he told me: ”I sing a song so full of venom, leaving destruction behind / All the letters you wrote are torn up, burning in a fire, burning with desire” and “I’ve got a melody so dissonant, making all the ladies sigh / You’ve got a novel full of mystery, forcing tears in grown men’s eyes”.

Poetically, honestly, aptly, his words reflected in my head as often as the lyrics go: “Listen, don’t hasten your decision / … / Oh, you make your own decision”. See, he is no stranger to me anymore. He became a friend, who just wants what’s good for me, and wants me to move on to something better. Bless his soul. I wrote his advice down in my book, and stare at it every morning, making myself listen. For once, try to listen. I’m always trying.

He wrote many songs along the way, mostly about the past love relationships, some he regrets, others he treasures. Some upbeat and optimistic, others catchy yet painful. Come to think of it, he has never told me these stories before. I listen to them like firsthand serenades. And it leaves me wondering for many nights if I have done enough as his friend to help him through, if he has ever needed help in the first place, the way he has helped me through. Was I too caught up in my own sorrows to see another stranger’s knocking on my door?

I have just gotten home late one night after finally closing another issue for the following month, when I picked up the phone to hear him singing on the other end: “In this life of lies / Which is breaking me / Into pieces of my past / Shedding like dead skin”. I didn’t ask him what’s wrong. I didn’t ask him if he’s alright. Usually, he wouldn’t tell me anyway, just transcribed them all into words for his songs, riffs for his melodies. I thought to myself, maybe this is how guys deal with things. They don’t like talking about it like us, like me on the rooftop. They just sit them out, wait for the storm to pass. Maybe somewhere along the way, they write songs about it. This as much I have learned about the opposite sex for the 20 some years of my life. I think.

After he hung up that night, we stop talking. We stop going on fantastic adventures, stealing plane rides and pretending geographical barriers are inconvenience instead of admitting to a fear. We don’t talk to each other about love, life and everything in between anymore. We don’t delve into sentimental musings, memories of a childhood that has passed. We don’t try to say words, lies, to bide the time, before we move on own.  Just like that, he is gone, as quickly as he has appeared next to me that fateful night on the rooftop. He has move on own, and I can’t help feeling that I took him for granted because of my own problems. Just like that, our yesterday becomes a distant dream, and I am waking up again.

Good morning, OJ. I hope you are well.

* The accounts with OJ Law in this post is completely fictional. I haven’t met him in person before. Maybe someday.

W: OJLaw.co
T: @OJ_Law

His burgundy shoes

“The lecturer is nice. I only saw him twice in this entire course, but we communicated more via emails. He is quite a good fellow. I like him. Peculiar with his red leather boots, but nice.”

Ah, the red leather boots. I will never forget them. How they strutted into the lecture hall with Ian Dury & The Blockheads’ Sex and Drugs and Rock & Roll playing on repeat in the background. It was probably the coolest class I have ever attended during my two years of Uni at Queensland University of Technology.

I never really got to know Dr Steve Dillon though. I skipped a lot of his lectures. Not because he was a boring lecturer. I never went to enough of his classes to decide if he were a boring lecturer. Couldn’t have been too boring, what with his red boots and mandatory introduction song. But from what I got recorded in my old blog, he had been as much a helpful lecturer virtually. I just – let a lot of what could have been a good life pass me by during those two years in Uni.

Looking back now, I barely remember what went on during that semester. One of the few things I remember was my take-home exam. One question particularly. Well, not really what question it was, but what I answered. For some reason, it inspired me to write about one of Damien Rice’s songs from the Live From The Union Chapel album. Could be Amie. Best answer I ever penned down throughout my Uni days. In fact, that was the only subject I ever scored a High Distinction in. Bestest accomplishment at that point of my life.

I cannot say that I am there yet as a music writer. But at least, I have this blog, and a job that allows me unlimited access to do something music related.

So, I guess what I’m trying to say is that, Dr Dillon lent a hand in making me realise what I want to do for the rest of my life. Subconsciously. Indirectly. He provided a fun course in Uni to take up, and an interesting class that anyone could have easily latched on to, when music comes into play. For me, it was quite important back then. It made the three months of my two-year Uni life a bit more bearable, and made me confident again for choosing a course I thought might eventually just ruin my life.

It felt rather surreal when I saw an ex-tutor post up his RIP post for Dr Dillon on his status, right smack at a moment when I am going through something bad in my life. Lovesong by The Cure was on the radio when the news hit me yesterday evening. I did not know why it was important I remembered that.

Thank you, Dr Dillon. For whatever little help you have provided me five years ago, it has led me to where I am today. I believe you played a part, however small. I appreciate it, and I am grateful to have made your acquaintance. However short, however meagre. And I hope you know that somewhere out there, in that big sea of students you have came in contact with, you made this one realise a rather important dream that could have easily slipped away.

RIP Dr Steve Dillon. May you walk among the clouds with that kickass burgundy leather boots of yours.

Friday Five: 5 local singers/songwriters to check out

Long time local musician and member of Car Crash Hearts Alda Tan was admitted to the hospital two nights ago after suffering from a sudden stroke attack due to a burst capillary in his brain. Surgery went well yesterday, but he has yet to regain consciousness. Do keep him in your prayers.

Look out for the upcoming MASH gig tomorrow and Moonshine gig on April 19, where they will be raising funds to help with Alda’s astronomical medical bill. Or you may also donate to Alda’s family here.

5 local singers/songwriters to check out

#1: Diandra Arjunaidi

W: Facebook.com/DiandraArjunaidi
T: @iamdiandra

#2: Rendra Zawawi

W: MySpace.com/RendraZawawi
T: @rendrazawawi

#3: Narmi

W: Facebook.com/NarmiAdventures
T: @narmi_i

#4: Halfway Kings

W: Facebook.com/HalfwayKings

#5: The Impatient Sisters

W: Facebook.com/TheImpatientSisters
T: @theimpsis

Local Wednesday: ‘XVII:XXXV’ by Rosevelt

Rosevelt started off strong at their initial formation some two years back. Like a sudden shove from the back into the swimming pool, their introductory numbers like Madacine and Feel Fine have captured the attention of many with lead Nick’s polished vocals that never seem to falter, accompanied by drummer Bryan’s crazy sequences and Josh’s piercing riffs, all held together by the steady back bone of Kush’s bass.

A little over a year after that, Rosevelt decided to recruit an additional guitar to the band, Jeffery, who instilled in their sound a new level of depth and dark, something we never knew was missing in the first place. Just in time for their milestone performance opening for Incubus, the band that inspired their existence in the first place, last year, and eventually, for the release of their debut EP XVII:XXXV (pronounced seventeen thirty-five).

I have to say though, I am not really hot for the album cover art. There are a lot of stories following the decision to have a praying hand with a rosary around it that holds the band’s logo: it’s about individualism – the solitary independent urge to do what you want, what you like and what you think is right; it’s about impartiality – to question everything that is handed to you, and filter them with your own belief, character and personal values; it’s about a journey scaled – from inducting this current line up for Rosevelt, to going through the many ups and downs as a local alternative rock band, to finally releasing their first album. They are, in a way, complete.

For me, although the album may hold many meaningful definitions behind it, which I find rather interesting when asked about them, I still thought first impression is everything. And it does hold a rather God-like complex annotation upon first look. It does seem like the band wants the fans to worship them. It is good to have its own individualism behind it all – I mean, that is what the whole album is about, no? – but the description carries a heavy weight that needs a straightforward confrontation to lighten the load. If there weren’t any lengthy explanations say, in the album sleeve, which there aren’t any, many will just take it at face value.

Packed behind the controversial album art is an urge to be individual in hard-driven songs like Politics, Mosh and Break. Yet ironically, the entire compilation sounds pretty much the same: fragile bass introductions that seem to creep up on you, paired with the lead, and Nick’s eerie vocals that punctuates until the words linger on in your head long after the songs have finished. Like a band of brothers off to war, responding to the call to arms with such individualism in them, only to find they are not unlike the Private next to him, donned in the same uniform, fighting for the same honour, and dying on the same battlefield. Whilst each of them carries his own story from home – a patriotic servant, a vengeful killer, a grateful soldier, a homesick lover, a guilt-stricken spouse – their ending has been written in the same photocopied manner the moment they answered to Uncle Sam’s call.

Don’t get me wrong. This is not to say that it is a fail attempt. Rosevelt has their moments. (See what I did there? Heh). The goosebumps that would just prick your skin when you hear in June the painful words of a patient partner, anticipating with such heartache for the return of a lover. Everything just threatens to fall apart when Nick croons achingly in between verses before the explosive chorus.

And not to mention the jewel of the compilation, Mirror. Something off the war torn battlefield. Something that you would come across in a small dingy jazz pub around the corner at the wee hours of the morning. Featuring a talented friend of theirs, Minky Loh, the duo nails it clean into the plank, with Nick’s unwavering vocals paired with Minky’s sultry one, and that bass that is tapped so sensually. A definite breath of fresh air, and easily a favourite, from the rest that seems to gel together in a blur.

XVII:XXXV finishes strong with Break, something that resembles the most of their chasing footsteps after their idols like Incubus and Deftones. And a little too closely, might I add. But I suppose, there is nothing negative about sounding like Brandon Boyd, and Nick certainly mirrors (see what I did there again?) the rock God rather perfectly with this climatic finale.

Rosevelt definitely earns an ‘A’ for effort with XVII:XXXV. It is a stellar one, but I can see that there is still plenty of room to grow for them. They have the talents, that is undeniable. Right now, the only way is up, and there is much to tighten up and polish on their battle boots, and to come up with something more versatile. A variety in the melodic riffs and sequences, and perhaps lesser repetitions for the lyrics.

W: RoseveltBand.com
T: @RoseveltBand

Friday Five: 5 songs that remind Gabriel Lynch of home

5 songs that reminds Gabriel Lynch of home
by Gabriel Lynch

Every nomad has a home to go back to when he is weary of his travels. In the meantime, there are songs to remind him of home. While Australian singer/songwriter Gabriel Lynch makes his way through Asia to promote his debut studio album, Passerby Chorale, he recalls songs that remind him of his home down under, instead of writing songs that remind people of said places..

#1: Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Sport by Rolf Harris

“Have you heard of that? No? Don’t. It’s the worst. Rolf Harris is famous for playing the wobble board, a metal board that goes woob woob woob.”

#2: Belter by Powderfinger

“Best Australian band by a mile.”

#3: The Australian National Anthem

“Why, Of course. It has some of the best wordings ever. There’s a phrase in it: ‘Our home is girt by sea’. You’d never use the word ‘girt’ in any other kinds of context.”

#4: Khe Sanh by Cold Chisel

“It’s not that I don’t like doing cover songs, but people would request the worst covers in the world. If you’re in an Australian pub, you’ll be asked to play ‘American Pie’, even if it has nothing to do with Australia. But the yobos, those Australians who go to pubs and create trouble, they love it. And then, we have Cold Chisel.”

#5: The Cat Empire

“They’re really popular, and they play these amazing, feel good, party songs with some Latin influences. Before they were famous, they played at this small jazz pub, and it was packed up every Friday night for years. People would come and dance and drink and have a good time. By the time they got around to releasing their record, they have record labels surrounding them desperately, and they ended up getting the best record deal the country has ever seen!”

W: GabrielLynchBand.com
T: @glynchmusic

The Pains of Being Pure at Heart is rather painless, actually

Event: The Pains of Being Pure at Heart live in concert
Date: March 4, 2012 (Sunday)
Venue: Pentas 2, KL Pac

Even in dreams, they will not betray you. The New York quartet stopped by the land of satay and ‘lah’ for a show at KLPac as the last stop of their Asian tour. A joy for those who missed St. Jerome’s Laneway festival in Singapore last month as they get 1/10 of the line-up (and only around 30 of us showed up. Guess everyone made it for Laneway?). Organisers, we’re all still waiting for Yuck by the way. Take note please.

Of making out in the library and saying no to love, whichever they prefer, The Pains of Being Pure At Heart (or in short, TPOBPAH, which is still long by the way) rocked on the stage of KLPac with their pure hearts with intention of engaging with the crowd.

“Ah nice to see awesome band shirts that you guys are wearing. There’s one wearing Yuck, Sonic Youth, Joy Division! Thank god we don’t get any bands we hate… Like Nickelback.” Said Kip before the show started.

Although the 45 minute set seemed short, the quartet managed to wow us with their uber famous songs such as ‘Heart in Your Heartbreak’, ‘Young Adult Friction’, ‘Even in Dreams’, ‘The Body’ and ‘A Teenager in Love’ and played a 4 song encore, including Contender that Kip performed just by himself .

The bass could only be heard faintly. Still, the set was good. The noise pop/indie-rock quartet gave us a taste on what we missed at Laneway (for those who did not attend of course). The mix of catchy electronic with distortion somehow creates that stress free feeling when you get off work on a Friday or simply watching 500 Days of Summer and Summer never left Tom.

However, despite all the hype saying that the quartet is an indie-rock band, I have to say that they’re very much indie-pop, sounding a bit like The Smiths mixed with Yuck’s slow song writing style, less other effects, with that touch of reverb on the vocals and simple noise clashing on both guitars.

It was kind enough of the band to stick around after the gig for a meet and greet with the fans session although the drummer, Kurt didn’t show up for the meet and greet. Of course Peggy Wang was the star of the night for the guys. And Kip became the highlight for all the girls.

The awesome thing about indie-rock gigs are that the people are all friendly, the beers are cold and there’s space to breathe. Big thumbs up to Soundscape records and the man behind it, Mak Wai Hoo who made this all possible. KLPac for being an awesome host and providing ice cold beer (though the RELA guys weren’t too effective). And also thank you to Twilight Actiongirl for the invites to the show.

Contributed by Rizki Maulana (@rzmaulana)

* If you would like to contribute your reviews on concerts you have been to and/or new bands/albums/songs you have recently heard, feel free to drop me a line here.

Music Monday: ‘Passerby Chorale’ by Gabriel Lynch

Is it possible to be listening to an Australian singer/songwriter, and be reminded of somewhere across the globe like Ireland? Perhaps. If it is possible to be inspired to write a song about Florence, somewhere in the deserted attic of Iceland, why not?

There is an interesting story behind Lynch’s debut studio album, Passerby Chorale, and strangely enough, while listening to the album, it is as if we have bought an extra ticket to wherever his jetsetting feet decide to bring him next. Like we are getting the firsthand experience itself, being tourists in all the cities Lynch has once found himself in.

There is a lightness in Lynch’s voice that seems to carry his written words so effortlessly immaculate, with a tinge of Irishness in the subconscious slur and subliminal music compositions. His voice, sometimes solemn like a hymn of quieter cities like Reykjavik, sometimes proud and aviating like a gratifying soldier standing erect, bleching his national anthem from the depths of his patriotic heart.

Going through Passerby Chorale is like passing by the many unfamiliar cities Lynch has been to during his travels around the world. Those distinctive and idiosyncratic sounds each cities have. Those traffic noises and bustling crowds that melt into a kind of music in the songwriter’s head. Yet. As a foreigner, try as you may to live like Romans do, you cannot seem to do it the right way. Like you don’t belong to this chorale. So, you compose your own chorale, a passerby’s chorale, chronicling those moments when you don’t fit in, and those when you do.

Passerby Chorale as a whole is pretty much like that. The chord cadences and note arrangements Lynch composed, were unlike the run-of-the-mill sequences you would hear from the usual singer/songwriter. Sometimes, the scurry of the notes across the piano keys that turns unexpectedly like the moody tides in the ocean. Other times, the phrase switches so suddenly that you feel uncomfortable in your skin just listening to a song about love. Like falling in love with a new girl so effortlessly, yet at the same time, scared that she might disappear and leave your heart wringing red on your sleeves.

Sometimes, it’s a solitary walk along the Firenze Santa Maria Novella railway station in the wee hours of the morning, thin films of snow giving the buildings around you a light glaze. So eerie. So wrong. Yet somehow, it feels so right. Other times, it’s a skip instead of a walk across Central Park, watching joggers struggle with their dogs outrunning them down the pavement, and families on plaid blankets sipping wine and eating cheese crackers. And that burst of energy called hope at the center of your chest that beats with the quick witted guitar riffs: “Then maybe, just maybe what you’ll do / Is start singing to yourself when you’re thinking about me too.”

Sometimes, it’s standing at the edge of Ireland, the ocean breeze against your face as the violin moans towards the waters, echoes thrown back that speaks of the same sorrow. Other times, it’s the slow rock of the chair on the sweltering porch in West Virginia. The cornfield as far as the eyes can see, but not far enough to see if the mirage of the love of your life is moving closer back to you, but instead walking farther away from you. You pluck on the banjo strings in your arms to the rhythm of the rocking chair, your mind filled with gentle love, as your voice calls out feather lightly: “Sweetheart, please come back to me.”

It goes without saying that there is versatility when it comes to Lynch’s music. Sure, he may just be a man with a guitar singing lovesick love songs. But in his heart, there is also a traveller, who has been to the ends of the world, and transpired what he has felt, and somehow what he has seen, into this album.

Gabriel Lynch will be performing at the Mosaic Music Festival in Singapore on March 15 (Thursday) at the Esplanade Concourse area and on March 16 (Friday) at the Esplanade Outdoor Theatre. Both gigs are free.

W: TheGabrielLynchBand.com
T: @glynchmusic 

Spotlight Sunday: Angels and Airwaves, Melbourne, Australia

March 1, 2012
Soundwave Festival
The Forum, Melbourne, Australia
(via Anthony Smith / FasterLouder)

Friday Five: 5 bands named after body parts you would be interested in

5 bands named after body parts you would be interested in

#1: The Head and The Heart

W: TheHeadAndTheHeart.com
T: @HeadandTheHeart

#2: Pains of Being Pure at Heart

W: ThePainsofBeingPureatHeart.com
T: @thepainsofbeing

#3: Elbow

W: Elbow.co.uk
T: @elbowofficial

#4: The Shins

W: TheShins.com
T: @TheShins

#5: toe

W: Toe.st
T: @MINO_TAKAAKI / @Satoshiyamane / @shuumaibentoe

toe will be performing at the Bentley Music Auditorium, Malaysia next Wednesday (March 14 – RM88 @ Soundscape-Records.com), and at Esplanade Theatre Studio, Singapore next Thursday and Friday (March 15 and 16 – SGD40 @ Sistic.com.sg) in conjunction with the Mosaic Music Festival. Also performing at Mosaic is Elbow at the Esplanade Concert Hall, Singapore next Sunday (March 18 – From SGD40 @ Sistic.com.sg).