Sud’s ouevre mostly combines love and lust, infusing one to the other that has less to do with objectifying either act but rather than celebrate the naturalness of both: their simplicity in theory and their complexities in reality. To talk about their body of work (pun) so far is to apply these contexts in fragments or in ambiguity, or risk the sordid business of exposing taboo topics of sex through the elements of music – and successfully doing so.
And when it almost seemed inescapable to associate them with carnal pleasures and promises, ‘Sila’ was released. A year later since it graced live audiences (and a couple of changes in arrangement), the song finally received its accompanying visual treatment – one that tells a familiar story, one that all of us are privy to, satisfied to be mere spectators, but earnestly wishing to not play a part in it. The music video’s task is to widen the song’s berth, to personify the feelings, and embed images the song are possibly limited to provide. On ‘Sila’, the representation is that of forbidden love: with the conventional pretext of good until it’s otherwise. It is a loving ode to the telltale pain and bliss of love, in spite of circumstances, and gambling on consequences. But on the other hand, taking the situation out of the equation, the theme remains universal, only the dynamics are unique to each person, each relationship. There is no singular affirmation to it, a be-all and end-all to life’s ultimate joy and contentment. But ‘Sila’ assures one thing, that it fulfills the promise of an earnestly simple and relatable love song. The reality is, its meaning will last longer than one person, one relationship, and one story, but the dream is to sustain its purpose, and hopefully, preserve it. (Mary Christine Galang)
This review also appears on Mary Christine Galang’s blog, Decibawl.