Plaka Notes #14: BINIverse by Bini
It doesn't matter how good Bini's first English-only release is. All it has to do is help build the lucrative narrative that "the nation's girl group" is taking over the world.
A lot can happen in one year.
This time last year, I published my Plaka Note on Talaarawan, then the latest release from Bini. By that time, the group were seemingly on the verge of their moment. “Pantropiko” was already a viral hit, while “Karera” was being transformed to an anthem for an anxious generation of new graduates. Perhaps more importantly, the promotional push towards the new EP felt more confident, in part because the pandemic was “over” and any message that failed to cut through in the group’s first two and a half years—because we were anxious about a lot of things, natch—was finally getting out there.
Even then, I don’t think anybody expected how big Bini would become. With apologies to SB19, who definitely paved the way for all of P-pop and became the genre’s first big superstars, it was Bini that everyone liked, and liked openly and freely. Maybe it’s because the former was patterned more closely after K-pop norms, and so were more subject to ridicule, while the latter felt more like folks you could become friends (or, well, have parasocial relationships) with. Maybe it’s a girl group thing? I’m not really sure.
But a big part of it is definitely the promotional muscle behind it. Bini is, of course, managed by ABS-CBN. Until 2020 they were the biggest broadcaster in the country, their wide reach on television and radio providing a ubiquitous platform for their contract talents. All that changed when allies of then president Rodrigo Duterte refused to renew the network’s broadcasting franchise, arguably acting on behalf of their leader, who complained about its bias against him. As ABS-CBN scrambled to find a home for their biggest, most popular shows—kickstarting arguably the biggest shake-up in the Philippine entertainment industry—the future of Bini’s members, who were already training for two years at this point, were in doubt.
All that makes Bini’s phenomenal success in the past year all the more astounding. But it’s difficult to disentangle the fact that the group has the whole package down pat—good songs, compelling personality, and the right amount of chaos you’d expect from idol groups—and the fact that the machinery promoting them is extremely motivated. ABS-CBN is still in the process of mitigating its financial losses as they transition from a broadcasting outfit to a “storytelling” one. Its top boss, Carlo Katigbak, cited Bini as one of their silver linings of late, alongside the primetime drama Batang Quiapo and the surprisingly popular love team of Kim Chiu and Paulo Avelino. So it is within their interests to keep the hype rolling, from a string of concerts at ever-larger venues, to a similarly long string of endorsements, all providing fodder for almost-nightly coverage of their travails on TV Patrol, under the constant din of “Salamin, Salamin”.
Problem: Now that Bini has conquered the Philippines, how can it conquer the world?
Solution: Release an album that the whole world can understand.
And that brings us to BINIverse, their first all-English EP.
It was inevitable, really. For one, the Filipino’s overwhelming need for international affirmation calls for it. Also, this comes as so many Asian pop acts release music in English to appeal to western audiences. I don’t think I have to talk about, say, recent releases by Twice, or how the members of Blackpink are now very much western pop of Asian origins, or how the first iteration of Fifty Fifty imploded when it tried to go international. There is definitely an audience these days for pop that’s a throwback not just sonically, but also fundamentally—how many western pop groups are there?—and with a touch of exoticism because it comes from elsewhere. At the risk of sounding dismissive, there’s also a market of songwriters looking to break through by writing songs for these groups seeking to break through that Pacific Ocean-sized barrier.
But I’ve always felt that something gets fundamentally lost when they make that transition. Take BTS, who, in this instance, really paved the way. “Dynamite” and “Butter” are pretty good pop songs, but I find myself missing the depth of their earlier, Korean-language stuff. (And “Permission to Dance” remains their worst, for me.) But in this case, it isn’t really too late. The music released individually by their members in the past couple of years have shown off more of that depth no matter what language it is in, and I’m betting when they release that post-military service record there’ll be at least one really good, really BTS song in English.
To be honest, BINIverse isn’t a terrible EP. The thing, though, is that nothing sticks. It’s been almost a year since “Cherry On Top” was released—to much fanfare, because of course, it’s Bini, and also, because it is their first English single—and despite the hype, I had honestly forgotten what it sounds like.
Their second single, “Blink Twice”, is a much worse offender. Let’s be honest: this song is an SEO exercise. There’s nothing more cynically attention-grabbing than naming a song after one K-pop group and the fandom name of another.
Okay, I am probably being nitpicky. I shouldn’t really be overthinking BINIverse, right? It’s sonically more 80s-centered, which is pretty in vogue today. It just happens to be Bini’s first bid to crack the international market, and it carries the weight of all that expectation. To do so with songs so effervescent they don’t make an impression is a disappointment.
As music journalist
pointed out, there’s a big change to the recipe this time around. Most of Bini’s most memorable stuff—and indeed, all of Talaarawan—was produced by FlipMusic, responsible for some of Filipino music’s most enduring modern classics, like Ron Henley’s “Biglang Liko” and Sarah Geronimo’s “Tala”. What they brought to the table, especially in Bini’s breakthrough record, is a genre-hopping playfulness that remains in service of delivering a damn good pop song. Just think of the “oh shucks!” line in “Pantropiko”, which really should be an “oh shit!”—but the whole point is that it isn’t! But they appear nowhere in BINIverse.It’s not entirely written by ABS-CBN’s usual coterie of writers, either. “Cherry On Top” counts among its writers Boy Matthews, who notably co-wrote Twice’s “The Feels” and “Strategy”, and Shintaro Yasuda, who has also worked with Le Sserafim, Ariana Grande, and—as it’s a particular interest of the Once Monthly—also co-wrote GFriend’s “Season of Memories”. “Blink Twice” is co-written by Steven Franks, who most recently worked for G-Dragon’s Übermensch record. Notable pedigree, but I’m not sure why Bini has to settle with the dregs in this case. (And I’m curious how they only got eaJ to do a guest vocal on “Secrets” when we all know he can do a mean under-the-radar pop song.)
If you ask me, they should have released “Zero Pressure” as a single instead. Apart from the fact that they could’ve sold it as a Melanie Fontana co-write—she worked on many songs for Hybe acts, most notably BTS’ “Boy With Luv”, a frothy global hit that feels more substantial than it initially let on—I feel that song better bridges the transition between the Bini that sings of our experiences, and the Bini that is supposedly taking over the world. It speaks of the mountain the girls are tasked to climb. It builds on the mythology, on the expectations they’re now saddled with. And it’s frankly the best song of a blah bunch.
But, that said, does any of it matter?
I mean, is it relevant if BINIverse isn’t a satisfying album to listen to like Talaarawan? To be honest, while putting this together, I’ve had to remind myself that in the pop world, it’s not just about the music. You’ve got to think about the live appearances, and the content in between, and the mythology that builds around it, the narrative that only diehard fans will understand the longer it goes on. Sure, the first two parts of the Bini documentary are available to stream on iWantTFC—the first chapter was recently shortlisted at the 2025 New York Festivals, and I’m guessing if ABS-CBN wins this, it’s a matter of pride, considering their erstwhile rival, GMA, traditionally does better in this contest—and I could catch up with that. I can also just rewatch the two Rainbow Rumble episodes with the group’s members, and maybe ponder why those who eventually reached the finals were the most chill frantic ones. (And also, Jhoanna’s Darna moment still lives rent-free in my head.) Access to content is easy, and it’s not like I haven’t done it before. But in this case, I’m really only a casual listener, so I don’t think I’ll get any of this as much as those who actually pay for the privilege of greater access.
Maybe none of this is made for me. Sure, I’m a more interested listener than most casuals—I mean, this essay—but honestly, I don’t have much of a stake about this current narrative. I like the group, but I’m not heavily invested in whether Bini “takes over” the world. BINIverse is just the first sentence in a whole new chapter, one where the Philippines’ “nation’s girl group” gets to wave our flag for the rest of the world—okay, the west, the Global North—to see. We’ll probably have to see this eventually in the context of how their imminent world tour pans out. But then, you know the ABS-CBN hype machine. We’ll have a string of concerts at ever-farther venues, all providing fodder for almost-nightly coverage of their travails on TV Patrol. Breathless, fawning coverage. Everything is all right. (By contrast, Bini’s brother group, BGYO—also born of the same audition process—dropped a new EP a couple of weeks ago. I think I only saw the newscast mention it once, maybe twice.)
Don’t misinterpret this. This is not at all a judgment on the abilities of the members. The hype machine can only do so much if they weren’t any good. And I’m not saying Bini should not try to crack the global market. I personally feel I’ll get a kick out of walking into CD Warehouse at Mongkok and seeing a poster of Aiah staring at me, rather than, say, G-Dragon and three of the four Blackpink members, as was the case when I went there earlier this month. But in BINIverse’s case—both the EP and this era as a whole—perhaps the quality of the output does not matter, for as long as it does reasonably, phenomenally, well. With their financial losses still not stemmed, ABS-CBN needs this to continue to work, as they lean more heavily on their profitable properties. Zero pressure, zero diamonds, am I right?
The card-carrying Blooms will enjoy it, as they will, as they should—but should I, and all of the other casuals who “joined the bandwagon” in the past eighteen months or so, have to be fully on board to appreciate this EP, to embrace the whole narrative to make up for its shortcomings? Or are we just supposed to be left behind on this journey?