“Better Than Gold” - Ooberfuse Ft. Tugista
Photo Credit: Artist EPK
If you think protest music has gone soft—too much polite finger-wagging and not enough blood in the teeth—then “Better Than Gold” is about to remind you what fire sounds like when it’s bottled and thrown back at the system.
On paper, this is already a heavy collision: Tondo’s rawest voices, the rap collective Tugista, teaming up with London’s genre-mangling duo Ooberfuse. But on record? It’s volcanic. The track is an anti-corruption anthem that doesn’t mince words or worry about radio-friendly edges. From the first beat, it feels less like a song and more like a street march breaking through your speakers.
Hal St John’s production goes for the jugular—razor-edged beats, dark electronic undertones, and a pulse that feels like a warning siren. He describes it as “arming fury with a sonic blade,” and that’s exactly how it hits: the backdrop is sharp enough to cut, leaving room for Tugista’s verses to slash through with unfiltered rage. Even if you don’t catch every Tagalog word, the energy is unmistakable—anger, exhaustion, defiance.
Cherrie Anderson of Ooberfuse nails it when she says this isn’t about “abstract political debate.” This is lived reality turned into sound. ZJAA closes the track with the line: “I don’t sugar coat, I know the truth tastes bitter.” It’s not just a mic-drop—it’s the whole ethos of the song. Tugista aren’t rapping from the safety of a studio in some glass tower. They’re from Tondo, Manila’s largest slum, where corruption isn’t an abstract headline—it’s the daily weight pressing on ordinary lives. Each rapper brings that perspective: C-Blink calling out the system’s rot from his own experience, OBLK describing his verses as a scream he can’t voice any other way, XFLOW hoping corruption stops being normalized, YC demanding action from listeners. These aren’t verses—they’re testimonies.
And that’s what makes “Better Than Gold” sting harder than your average protest track. It’s not just calling for change, it’s embodying the frustration of a generation that’s been failed over and over again. At the same time, the hook flips that pain into resilience—the idea that the people themselves, their truth and their voices, are the real treasure of a nation. Corrupt leaders may have fat wallets, but the streets are where the real gold lives.
The timing couldn’t be sharper, dropping in the middle of billion-peso scandals in the Philippines. It’s music that refuses to be background noise; it demands to be heard in jeepneys, street corners, protests, headphones—anywhere people are ready to stop swallowing lies.
“Better Than Gold” is not music for chilling out. It’s music for waking up. A cross-continental sonic Molotov cocktail, forged in Manila’s alleys and London’s studios, hurled straight at power. Don’t just listen—take it personally.
“Better Than Gold” is available now on all major streaming platforms
