ena mori: ‘Good music is immortal, and it lives on’

Music has always been a part of mori’s life. “I had a dream growing up that I’d be in a job or some type of work that centered on music,” she tells JoySauce. She started her journey in classical music, calling it the “only thing” that she veered towards. At a young age, mori immediately became well versed in traditional compositions. “I've always gravitated towards my mom's old piano that she had and which I still have in the house,” she says. Her parents eventually enrolled her in piano lessons, and her casual hobby turned into something more. “There was something about the melody…and my devotion to playing the piano was such an important thing growing up,” she says.

As she got older, mori’s taste in music expanded. Her peers were listening to Avril Lavigne and “cool stuff,” so she felt pressured to join them. Mori began experimenting with music beyond tapping the keys to a Mozart or Bach piece. She says, “It almost felt like it was so limiting at that point in my life. I wanted to express myself in a different way.” In college, she ventured into electronic music and it was then that mori started writing her own songs. “It was just really impactful to me that I wanted to do something with what I was listening to,” she recalls.

The world learned about mori after she dropped her self-titled EP in 2020, which was also her college thesis. “I put so much effort into that, it will be a waste if I don't release it,” she confesses. While shy at first, she eventually gained confidence after performing at a bar, which she used as confirmation to pursue music: “This is something that I feel like I could see myself doing for a long time.”

Mori’s music is unlike the conventional Pinoy pop. It’s dreamlike, with touches of indie, and a mix of electronic and pop—at times energetic but also melancholic. It’s a multi-layered sound, much like her identity. Mori was born in Japan and moved to the Philippines when she was a teenager. She attributes her unique sound to her experiences growing up in two cultures. “Every place has a different air that ultimately mirrors back to you and how you feel, or how you see yourself in the third perspective, in a sense, in that city,” she says, adding, “I really enjoy both cultures, and it's really important to me to include my experience in both different countries that I grew up in, in my music.”

The move to the Philippines at age 15 was “daunting,” but ultimately, her desire for change outweighed her worries. In the Philippines, she had the freedom to express herself, especially her love for music. “(Filipinos) sing anywhere, everywhere, and I really appreciated that. At that time, there was a part of me that felt so Filipino despite living in Japan,” she recalls. “There was this desire to express (things) loud and outwardly, rather than being tamed at all times. I wanted to know more about the world, how it works, and what it looks like to me.” She confesses that she’s more drawn to “sounds rather than words,” but she still surrenders herself in her songwriting, opening up about her struggles. Part of her approach comes from her “expensive” hobby of reading books, but it also inspires her process. “I love this kind of microscopical analysis on human behavior,” she says.

The 27-year-old artist is having the time of her life, despite the cutthroat music industry in the Philippines. Beyond the sounds that defined OPM, she has introduced something fresh to the ears. Just like the change she sought, listeners embraced her boundary-changing music and fearless lyricism in return. “I want my songs to have that atmosphere where you can see what's happening in front of you,” she says. Being an artist in the Philippines also drives her introspective yet defiant take on her craft. “Our art is pretty intense, but it's so raw and authentic. It's so inspiring, because there’s so much talent within the land and there’s just so much music,” mori says.

Mori is also ready to bring OPM global. She notes that “there is so much good music in the Philippines that isn't necessarily known yet.” But that “they’re marinating outwardly with artists joining shows.” Herself being one of them. Mori performed at the 2023 SXSW Festival in Austin. And the gigs kept coming, from four solo shows with Sofar Sounds London, to Clockenflap in Hong Kong, and the Wanderland Festival in Manila, all in 2024. More recently, mori was invited back to Hong Kong to perform at the M+ Museum for their M+ at Night series.

For mori, there’s more that she can share with the world to solidify the talent of Filipino musicians on the global stage. “We have so many stories (to tell). It can be a good or bad experience, but it’s something that we can personalize within ourselves and take pride in,” she says. “You put it as a badge, right?” And she’s been awarded for her artistry, receiving Best Album at the 2023 Awit Awards—music awards in the Philippines—for her debut album, Don’t Blame the Wild One! as well as Best Remix Recording two years later for White Room (Reimagined version).

As proof of dedication to her craft, mori is already thinking of what legacy she wants to leave behind. “All I want is my songs to be remembered, rather than my character or my personality, my face, or whatever,” she says. “Good music is immortal, and it lives on. Sometimes, it comes back.” As a final promise, she adds, “I can make music that can last longer than my life—that’s what I want.”