R&B and soul singer-songwriter Earl Agustin didn’t fall into music by accident. He knew early on that he liked it, and from there, he never looked away. From Ozamiz City, a quiet town in Mindanao where most performers lean toward covers and safe hits, Agustin started writing original music and hasn’t stopped since. Ever since releasing his debut single “Tapos Na” in 2021, the ball kept rolling with tracks like “Dalangin” and “Aya” pushed their way into the conversation, with “Tibok” slowly becoming his biggest song to date – even years after it dropped in 2023.
The late attention doesn’t bother him. If anything, it’s proof that what he’s building takes time. And for Agustin, the spotlight has always been secondary to the process.
Ozamiz is a long way from Metro Manila, not just geographically, but culturally. While the capital drowns in music scenes that come and go with every trend cycle, most local musicians in the provinces are still locked into bar gigs built around crowd-pleasers. That kind of culture doesn’t leave much room for experimentation. Still, Agustin stuck to writing original music even when no one around him was doing the same.
Agustin doesn’t write songs in the traditional way. He doesn’t sit down with a guitar or open up a software session with a solid plan. The music often starts as a scene in his head, an imagined soundscape he begins piecing together through mood and reference.
“I sort of just imagine it in my head when I want to write something. And then I just imagine in my head how I want it to sound or feel like,” he tells Rolling Stone Philippines. “For example, in one song, I want it to have a brass section. So I research songs with specific sounds that I feel will translate to the sound that I want for the song.”
He says he doesn’t work off pegs with just music alone. Instead, he pulls ideas from other art forms. During the interview, he cuts himself off mid-sentence to clarify that he’s more into movies and isn’t the type to read. “I watch films that I think would spark creative juices or ideas. Sometimes, I look for the element or message that I want to convey in my songs from these other forms of art. But maybe in terms of themes, it’s really love. I really like watching rom-coms.”
Discord’s Songwriters Circle
Like most artists his age, Agustin’s creative world opened up online. During the pandemic, when in-person gigs were gone and the live bar circuit ground to a halt, he logged into Discord, a server-based instant messaging social platform that hosts thousands of online communities all over the world. What started as a way to connect with other people in lockdown quickly turned into something more serious. Through Discord servers, Agustin met artists from across the country, attending virtual hangouts where musicians could video stream sets and join impromptu jam sessions.
He credits that era for expanding his view of what was possible. “There’s a [cover band culture]. That’s how big it was in our city before,” he says. “So for me, growing up in that kind of place where original music does not thrive as much as in other bigger cities, it was a new experience [to go online]. You know, people can be together on Discord, Zoom, or Google Meet. There are concerts where people usually sing their original songs. So it was a big thing for me because I discovered that there was a community of songwriters like that.”
It was through one of those online performances that he met Bicolano artist Jan Roberts. Their connection wasn’t based on genre or style; it was built around the fact that both of them were writing from the fringes of the online music community. That common ground became more important than any shared influences.
LATE BLOOMER SUCCESS
And yet, Agustin’s influences still show up. You can hear it in the layering of “Tibok,” where his interest in retro soul mixes with the rich melodies of artists like Giveon and the rhythmic polish of Silk Sonic. He doesn’t name-drop these artists casually. He’s studied how they build their songs and how their music moves in and out of mainstream airwaves without losing its core.
Still, none of it came quickly. He remembers watching a clip of Unique Salonga being interviewed about one of his new releases. The interviewer asked if he thought people were going to like the new music. That moment stuck with him more than any Spotify placement or social media feedback.
“The goal for me before was to make the songs sound real,” Agustin says. “[There] was a clip of Unique Salonga. And he was talking about his new album or new song at the time. And then the question was, ‘Do you think people are going to like this?’ Yung answer niya yung pinaka-tumatak sakin at dala-dala ko siya as a songwriter every single day, na yung mga songs na sinusulat niyaeventually mahahanap at mahahanap niya yung tao na nakikinig sakanya.”
A FISH OUT OF OZAMIZ WATERs
Eventually, he left Ozamiz. The move to San Pedro, Laguna, was slow but it gave him the time and space to get serious. There’s no pretense in how he talks about it, just the reality of having to start over somewhere new.
“It was difficult at first but now, I can handle it. Of course, [ever since moving out] I’m getting used to the movements. I also have more musician [and] singer-songwriter friends. Maybe that’s what makes life a little bit easier.”
He doesn’t play up the hardship, but he doesn’t gloss over it either. The transition hasn’t been clean. Culture shock still creeps in from time to time. The pressure to “make it” is heavier in places where the industry actually moves.
“I felt like a fish out of water,” he says. “Whenever I am being asked [in interviews] about transitioning here. Pero ngayon, ako ay isang fish na may legs na marunong gumapang parang ganon.”
He laughs after saying it. It’s not a joke, exactly. But it’s also not a complaint. Just the honest feeling of trying to stand your ground when the current keeps changing.
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