Jay Som Blows Up Her Old Formula on ‘Belong’

Jay Som has been missing, but Jay Som never even left. It’s been a while since we’ve heard new Jay Som music. Yet, the irony of saying the music project of Melina Duterte has been missing for the past six years is that Duterte has been just about everywhere during that time. Since the release of 2019’s full-length Anak Ko, the project has been essentially on hiatus, but the principal member, Melina Duterte, has been popping up all over the indie rock landscape. Talking about Duterte’s rising profile, in 2018, I said, “She may not get recognized in random aisles of Target, but she is definitely in the back of the mind of all the indie rock nerds.”

Well, in 2025, she probably still won’t get recognized in the aisles of Target, yet she most likely has a part of a few records on their shelves. Whether it’s Lucy Dacus, Boygenius, or Troye Sivan, Duterte has been putting in her time with other projects. So to put it another way, Belong marks the return of the Jay Som name after a long period of quiet without rest. It sounds like the product of a person who spent years working on their craft, and its curated sounds showcase someone who knows how the studio works on both sides of the glass. The album may not end up being some fans’ favorite, but it is the project’s most adventurous release by a visible mile. 

The Jay Som project has historically been a platform for Duterte to express her feelings while showcasing stellar guitar work. Sometimes she rips, like on Everybody Works’ “One More Time, Please” where Duterte drops the line, “I’m not okay / I don’t feel like I’m here / We’re not the same” and follows it with a crisp and smoldering guitar lead.

The same could be said for Anak Ko’s “Peace Out”, where Duterte says, “Won’t you try to forgive / Won’t you try to be anyone else?” and follows it with the smokiest build-up and blow-out since her previous album. Other times, the guitars build an impenetrable wall of beautiful noise (“1 Billion Dogs”) and occasionally, she rides an uncannily smooth strum worthy of a joyful road trip montage (The perfectly titled, “Nighttime Drive”). Up until and including “Anak Ko,” Jay Som focused on writing emotionally charged guitar songs, both quiet and loud. 

With Belong, Duterte blows up that formula just enough to stir up the dust. The opener, “Cards on the Table”, rolls in on a pulsing electronic beat, which Dutertre herself describes as a “Drake/Hovvdy” beat. The second track, “Float”, initially appears to snap back to a guitar-forward indie rock sound, but upon repeated listens, a subtle radio-pop sheen emerges. This song could slip into an early 2000s alternative rock playlist without notice.

This trend continues with “What You Need”, mixing poppy alternative rock sounds with all the bells and whistles supplied by a skilled and experienced producer. The same can be said for “Drop A”. Ear candy slips in and out of the frame, begging for a replay. Later songs, such as “Appointments” and “Past Lives”, add variety with an unusual dedication to a ballad format.

The back quarter of the album breaks open a newly introduced experimental side of the band. One track is a noise collage, one is off-speed, and another seems to get lost in its own smoke, devolving into a noisy dirge that then falls apart into wacked-out studio chatter. Fans coming for the old formula will not be completely satisfied with Belong, but if they find a good chunk of the record does just what they want. The guitar may have taken a more minor role, but the production and attention to the tiniest details throughout Belong show a new level of artistry.

One thing has not changed, though: Duterte is still dumping feelings. Nearly every song on the record gives us a look into a life full of misgivings, toxic passivity, or deep longing. The aforementioned “Cards on the Table” states, “Say it. You let me down.” on “Appointments”, she whispers, “I don’t wanna cry.” “Drop A” finds her singing, “I can’t stand that something is pulling us apart.” “Want It All” closes it all out with the least descriptive but somehow most evocative lyrics on the LP: “I think you wanna say the thing you wanna say.” Duterte is still digging in her gray feelings bag for Belong—nothing new in this department. 

Duterte chose the title Belong as a positive response to some of the negative feelings she was processing during her return to the studio as Jay Som. Struggling with imposter syndrome, she felt a lack of belonging. We’ve all been there: “Why am I here? I barely have any idea how to feed myself and take care of this body, so how in the world could I complete all of this stuff set out in front of me?” What’s funny, though, is that Duterte belongs to so many groups: bandmates, multi-instrumentalists, songwriters, producers, friends, humans. She’s no imposter. For the sake of this review, though, let’s put a spotlight on one category in which Duterte definitely belongs: Artists.