Dance music wouldn’t be where it is today without queer culture.
The act of dancing — whether surrounded by hundreds of people or from the comfort of your own bedroom — offers comfort, joy, and release that are quintessential parts of what it means to be queer. Fundamental genres like house, disco, and techno emerged as responses by the LGBTQIA+ community in their search for safe spaces that, at times, society failed to provide. The pandemic sparked renewed interest in the genre as DJs and artists turned to video and music streaming as outlets for expression, and today, dance music is reaching an apex of relevance in mainstream culture.
We can see a similar historical trajectory in the Philippines, where queer Filipinos have helped shape the evolution of the country’s dance music and pop culture. These roots stretch as far back as the 1970s era of Manila Sound, when the titular gay colloquialism “Bongga Ka, ‘Day” helped usher in a queering of dance floors. Today, contemporary Filipino queer artists draw inspiration not only from their experiences of gender and sexuality but also from a diverse range of global sounds and cultural contexts.
At Rolling Stone Philippines, we’ve assembled a rudimentary list featuring dance music by queer artists, as well as allies who have lovingly embraced and championed LGBTQIA+ culture. Some tracks are new, some are timeless classics, but all are guaranteed to get you in the mood for celebration.
Dom Guyot, ‘free’
In “Free,” Dom Guyot veers off his mellow R&B stylings for something dancier. Lyrically, it’s about shedding shame and reclaiming joy, a liberation anthem. “Now, I’m not depressed,” Guyot sings in his silky falsetto before the break, with pulsating bass and a crisp beat that gives the track a house-inflected shimmer. The song is sultry, but also weightless and fun, with a rap verse that boasts of tongue-in-cheek lyricism (“Make you wanna Squidward, baby, make you wanna ink”). — Pie Gonzaga
Mx Dione, ‘Bagong Kabanata’
Mx Dione’s “Bagong Kabanata” opens like a slow glide, easing into sultry production before turning into a hypnotic groove. It’s not flashy, but it’s not playing small either. The vocals draw you in with soft clarity, and the rhythm holds you there long enough to make you notice how deliberate every sound is. She’s not chasing Western pop conventions but rather, she’s shaping her own lane and bringing Filipino pop into a tighter, smarter direction. This is what the next chapter sounds like: Mx Dione looks into the future of what pop music in the Philippines could evolve into. — Elijah Pareño
Pamcy, ‘Sayaw’
Pamcy’s “Sayaw” treats house and disco music like it’s the source code. The track is lean and bright, built on bubbly synth loops and precision-cut beats that feel deceptively simple. Pamcy knows how to stretch a house groove until it feels like a language of its own. There’s no build-up, no dramatic drop, just a steady, locked-in pulse that rewards patience and repeat plays. It’s dance music that doesn’t try to prove anything, because it already knows what it’s doing. “Sayaw” lands somewhere between a love letter to queer nightlife and a technical exercise in restraint; the result is one of the most quietly confident dance music tracks in recent memory. — Elijah Pareño
Zsa Zsa Padilla, ‘Mambobola’
“Mambobola” is pure drama on the dancefloor: theatrical, seductive, and just a little tragic. Zsa Zsa Padilla’s vocals smolder with wounded glamor, complemented by Ray-An Fuentes’ icy ad libs, which feel like a friend chiming in as Padilla reproaches her lover. OPM’s torch song traditions meet queer ballroom energy here, making “Mambobola” less of a plea and more of a strut. A staple for diva worship, it’s the kind of track that turns the pain of loving a liar into performance art. — Pie Gonzaga
tome., ‘iridescence’
tome. has built a mirrorball world from the ground up during the pandemic-era pop world. “iridescence” refuses to code-switch, compromise, or slow down for anyone not keeping up. The production goes knee deep with the bass and vocal layering that feels like a crowd of inner voices speaking in unison. There’s no need to decipher the references because the feeling does the job. In the song, the artist alludes to making music not just for visibility, but for the queer community who deserve tracks that hit just as hard. There’s a line between being seen and being heard, and tome. chooses the latter with clarity. “iridescence” is a track for the pop listeners who stayed online, imagined better futures, and made songs out of them. — Elijah Pareño
SHNTI, ‘Lovers’
SHNTI’s “Lovers” is a dance track wired like a switchblade. The production hits in jagged bursts, with glitchy textures and sharp basslines that punch through like a warning shot. The lyrics unpack themes of desire without softening it for palatability. “Lovers” dares people to stop pretending that queer voices in rap are niche or novelty. SHNTI’s presence is the message, and the message isn’t asking for inclusion. It’s demanding that the field stretch or break. This is dance music made for catharsis, and it doesn’t care if you keep up. — Elijah Pareño
Paul Pablo, ‘ATIN ANG GABI’
Paul Pablo shifts the mood from candle-lit slow dancing to a neon-lit room full of energetic dancers on “ATIN ANG GABI.” The Davao-born pop artist is best known for his baritone croon and theatrical songwriting, but this track is meant for movement. The synths are rubbery, the beat is playful, and Pablo stays in full control even while the floor starts to move beneath him. His delivery on the track is all about contrast where melodic precision meets total abandon. “ATIN ANG GABI” hits the body and never really leaves, making it a worthy addition to any dancefloor worth trusting. — Elijah Pareño
Pette Shabu, ‘POKPOK’
Quezon City rapper Pette Shabu doesn’t waste time explaining herself. “POKPOK” is a sharp-edged techno track built on rage, confidence, and cultural references that hit close to home. When Shabu name-drops to call you a “pokpok,” it’s aimed to reclaim rather than to go for shock factor. The beat pulses with enough heat to ignite any dance floor, but the real hook is how she weaponizes presence. Shabu isn’t looking for acceptance from the scene’s self-proclaimed gatekeepers of dance music. She knows who she’s making this for. In a time where queer visibility is still questioned, “POKPOK” is a taunt and a flex. — Elijah Pareño
Horseboyy, ‘Fujoshi’
It took a few years of Horseboyy releasing glitchy SoundCloud experiments before diving headfirst into co-producing several tracks on SPRAK, the debut album of Pette Shabu released in 2024. But finally, in May, Horseboyy put out his first solo EP, Horsepowah, which tempers his breakbeat and happy hardcore roots with progressive and Balearic influences. “Fujoshi” is a chuggy, thumping tune featuring sweeping, animated synths; the percussion reverberates as if quietly brewing tension. It’s an uplifting club track intended to keep dancers locked in with its clangs and whistles, commanding attention in the club before things fully kick into motion. — Sai Versailles
Saint Guel, ‘Closer’
Miguel Santiago, known by his stage name Saint Guel, has represented the Philippines at some of Southeast Asia and Oceania’s most sought-after queer parties, including Hanoi’s Snug and Naarm’s Confide. Carrying the torch as a resident DJ for Wonderfruit Festival’s Forbidden Fruit stage in Pattaya, Thailand, and Equation Festival in Mai Châu, Vietnam, his global reach includes notable performances at iconic Berlin clubs such as Berghain’s Panorama Bar and about:blank. Saint Guel’s driving house track “Closer,” the title piece of his EP released under Hong Kong’s FuFu Records, is a deep and trippy masterclass in pace, groove, and sex appeal, capturing the warm, horny afterglow of a sustained dance floor climax. — Sai Versailles
Peach, ‘Clovers Groove’
“Clovers Groove” by Peach, a Canadian DJ of Filipino-British descent, is a shimmering deep house cut that feels earthy yet celestial. Save for the looping sample, the track is devoid of vocals, leaving ample room for the listener-dancer to move with its other elements like the stabby, bumping kick and its groovy synthetic bass. As with the rest of the Galaxy Girl EP, Peach’s fluid, euphoric tech-house production makes “Clovers Groove” an easy pick for all types of dance parties. — Pie Gonzaga
t33g33, ‘Manila Hustle (Future Perfect Do-It Dub)’
In this rework, multidisciplinary artist t33g33 places herself two degrees of separation from American singer-songwriter Van McCoy, whose internationally acclaimed disco hit “The Hustle” is instantly recognizable for its lush orchestral strings, funky bassline, and iconic refrain, “Do the Hustle!”
“Manila Hustle” is, in fact, a cover of Future Perfect’s version of “The Hustle,” which itself covers McCoy’s original. But unlike Future Perfect’s edit — an uptempo track that retains McCoy’s melody, jubilance, and optimism — “Manila Hustle” is stripped back, beginning with bright chords and a steady beat that shifts in and out of melancholy. The track builds as the kick drum works double time, while the synths intensify into warped, metallic textures that echo, stab, and drone through skittering hi-hats. In doing so, t33g33 creates an otherworldly atmosphere that feels faithful to the spirit of disco while reimagining it as a slow and seductive acid house burner. — Sai Versailles
D Waviee, ‘Shot Para Igat (feat. August Wahh)’
Davao-born and Manila-based, D Waviee has emerged as a talent to watch in Filipino dance music. A producer and DJ, she’s been turning heads since self-releasing her debut EP, HYPOMANIA — a wobbly experiment that, like a bundle of hormones, shuffles with jittery energy, layered with rattling synths that crumple and squelch.
In her latest album Epitome, released in May, D Waviee pushes these sensibilities further, imposing a sensuality that overwhelms with complete and utter force. In her hard-hitting club track “Shot Para Igat” (“igat” meaning “to flirt” in Bisaya), her unexpected pairing with R&B singer August Wahh, who repeats “para igat” between moans and yelps, hypnotizes you into an irresistible body bounce. Wahh’s voice sample, twisted into syncopated, budots-style composition, doesn’t only make “Shot Para Igat” quintessentially Filipino, but it is sure to get a hot and sweaty dance floor ready for a gay ol’ time. — Sai Versailles
Sarah Geronimo, ‘Tala’
Sarah Geronimo’s The Great Unknown track enjoyed a renaissance three years after its 2016 release, thanks to a viral dance challenge and O Bar’s Popstar Bench, who would go on to join the third season of Drag Race Philippines. By the time the choreography of “Tala” became massively ubiquitous, every gay bar-going queer had sung along to the track while Popstar Bench — a dead ringer of Sarah G — danced in whatever space was available.
Nica Del Rosario, who co-wrote the track, attests to the LGBTQIA+ community for boosting “Tala” years after it was first released. “I think it was a big hit among the LGBTQ+ community in the first couple of years it came out; my DJ friends would spin it in concerts and gigs and parties in Nectar and O Bar, and I heard it was this big dance craze and I thought that was great.” Del Rosario said in an interview. Imbued with a bouncy beat and bolstered by a tale of budding kilig, “Tala” has secured its position in the Filipino queer dance pantheon thanks to queens like Popstar Bench, who has turned “Gusto n’yo ba ng ‘Tala’?” into a battlecry. — Don Jaucian
Drag Race Philippines Queens Season 1, ‘Pop Off, Ate!’
“Pop Off Ate” comes off right at the gate, three episodes into the opening salvo of Drag Race Philippines’ first season. The challenge divided the queens into two groups: Flexbomb Girls (Brigiding, Turing, Eva Le Queen, Marina Summers, and Lady Morgana) and Pink Pussy Energy (Minty Fresh, Viñas Deluxe, Xilhouete, Precious Paula Nicole, and Gigi Era). Both versions adhere to the typical Drag Race girl group song blueprint: bombastic, hype-driven tracks designed to showcase the girls’ singing skills and lyrical wit. Flexbomb Girls’ version won the challenge, a memorable romp with a verse that opens with “Boom! Turing!” courtesy of the episode’s winning queen.
But the Pink Pussy Energy version is just as memorable (Minty Fresh’s verse is punchy despite its slower build and concise lyrics). The girl group songs of the succeeding seasons followed the same song structure — a proven formula by the Drag Race franchise — but the first time is always the most memorable. — Don Jaucian
Marina Summers, ‘AMAFILPINA’
Maymay Entrata’s “Amakabogera” takes on a queer form in Marina Summers’ reworking, complete with a nationalist flavor and summertime verve. Summers emerged as one of the top queens of the first season of Drag Race Philippines and “AMAFILIPINA” bottles her career and vision into a worldwide outlook as she distinguishes herself from the now-expanding roster of Filipina Ru girls. Summers recognized how “Amakabogera” is itself a queer anthem and “AMAFILIPINA” is her take on the song, with lyrics co-written by rapper Kumare Harvey. Summers delivers a song with a force so powerful she’ll make you believe that, whether it’s Drag Race or even the Olympics, she’s the only “Filipina winnah.” — Don Jaucian
Manila Luzon, Sassa Gurl, ‘POM POM (Take Me High)’
Made for the second season of Drag Den, “POM POM (Take Me High)” leans into sleek, after-hours pop with just the right dose of drama. Manila Luzon glides over a steady four-on-the-floor rhythm, her tenor cool and poised against glistening synths, while Sassa Gurl’s rap in the bridge adds grit to the song’s gloss. The post-chorus “rom-pa-pa-pom” is a playful earworm that anchors the track’s momentum. Overall, the song trades Drag Den’s theatricality for something moodier, smudged eyeliner and flickering strobe lights, taking the listener as high as the sky. — Pie Gonzaga
Jocelyn Enriquez, ‘A Little Bit of Ecstasy’
Filipino-American singer Jocelyn Enriquez delivered a club classic with “A Little Bit of Ecstasy,” a high-energy, sweat-slicked hit from the ‘90s that still lights up dancefloors. The track thrives on tension and release, pushing pleasure to the forefront with squelchy synths and three tempo changes in its second half. Enriquez’s breathy vocals blur the line between spiritual and sensual, capturing the hedonistic pulse of queer club culture at its peak. It’s no surprise the song made the charts when it came out in 1997. — Pie Gonzaga
Bonus Track: Bonnie Bailey, ‘Ever After’
Bonnie Bailey, though not Filipino, remains a fixture in the Filipino dance music conscience with her 2005 track “Ever After,” which defined a generation of Boracay and Puerto Galera partygoers before these beaches became a party destination for senior high school graduates and Labor Day weekenders.
Built on Balearic trance and progressive house foundations, the softness of “Ever After” works in contrast to the aggressive pulse of most club bangers. The rolling synths float steadily while Bailey’s voice moves with clarity and warmth, which resonates deeply with queer audiences seeking out dance music that wasn’t so hypermasculine. The song is a staple not just in clubs and music festivals, but as the backdrop of late-night drives, rooftop sunsets, and anywhere where the joyful and optimistic spirit of queerness can thrive. The track’s staying power is still so palpable that Bonnie Bailey returned to Boracay this year for a two-day post Laboracay takeover. — Elijah Pareño
