When the “Hawak Mo Ang Beat” trend exploded online, SunStar Lifestyle came out with an article stating the song was entirely AI. This was based on research into the source of the track, OPM Music Studio — an unknown artist with a full catalog of generic-sounding songs and uncanny album covers that absolutely scream “AI.”
However, in the last week of March, the composer, DJ Mogo (Sylvain Amazir Hernandez), revealed himself and denied these allegations. He claims the music is 100 percent human and wouldn’t disclose who the singer is, which, by the way, can’t be traced, and many critics and netizens aren’t buying it.
The composer recently went on a national television segment to deny using AI. What’s alarming, though, is that the show just panned over him tweaking a generic music studio software. There were no stems of the song to be seen. No vocal layers, no raw project files — nothing that actually proves human composition.
Even the producer of the show reportedly flagged it as AI, yet they just moved on to the next segment. Wow, that’s some really “good” journalism right there.
Hernandez explained that he had the notes in mind, ranging from “the cha-cha of Leyte to the very heavy drums of the Budots style.” He claimed the song started with some French words before he sought help from his Filipina wife for the rest.
‘Sinisigawin’ Mystery
Despite this explanation, netizens and critics are dismissing the claim because of how generic the track sounds. Even the “singer” has a distinct, robotic Tagalog that sounds completely off. One of the lyrics goes: “Sa ilalim ng ilaw, ikaw ang sinisigawin.” What does “sinisigawin” even mean? Well, I don’t know, but it sure is some “AI slop” type of stuff. It’s the kind of linguistic hallucination you only get when a machine tries to guess how our language works.
Experts chime in
Barry Villacarillo, a Cebuano music producer who has worked with Vispop legends, also known for his insightful and comedic music content, said: “Of course there’s no AI—he even showed the volume faders!” Villacarillo said sarcastically. “Of course, it’s freaking Suno!”
Villacarillo explained that Suno-generated tracks just sound like “generative music” in general, and as the song progresses, the audio quality becomes grainy. “It’s more apparent when you can jump from one chorus to the other, especially in dance music. ‘Hawak Mo ang Beat’ is no exception.”
Dissecting the arrangement, Villacarillo pointed out the inconsistencies that a human producer would almost never leave in.
“In the intro, the ‘DJ patunugin mo’ command is stepped on by the music starting before the singer even ends the sentence,” he noted. “If you are a true music producer, even with simple dance music, you’d be bothered by these inconsistencies and revise them.”
He further highlighted “unwanted overtones” and “awkward approaches” to the lyrics — artifacts typical of Suno trying to produce a quantized harmony. For example, in the line “Tonight, ikaw ang reyna ng sayaw,” a human producer would filter or add delay to create anticipation. In this track? “It’s so obvious and boring, as if no one put any thought into that bit,” said Villacarillo.
Renowned Cebuano playwright and songwriter Jude Gitamondoc agrees, noting that the vocals feel mechanical and the title itself sounds like a poor, “hilarious” translation of “You got the beat.” Gitamondoc challenged the composer to show the stems — the individual layers of the song — to prove its authenticity. “If he did make it with AI, then what he said still holds true: It’s 100 percent with his hands, as he was typing the prompt!”
For emerging Cebuano artist Josh Solano, known as “Datu,” the issue goes beyond the “too perfect” quantization.
Datu pointed out that AI is actively taking money away from artists. When organizations like Filscap (Filipino Society of Composers, Authors and Publishers Inc.) collect royalties, AI songs create a loophole where genuine creators get nothing, like the rampant “AI-Neo Soul” covers in Youtube, which are ironic because how soulless they are.
“Majority of the AI music is ripped off from genuine artists,” Datu said. “Real music can capture the nuances of human existence. Music is about imperfection, which is the soul of it.”
Gitamondoc believes the impulse to claim authorship over AI work is “the most human thing of all,” but the industry is at a crossroads. We are now contending with a flood of AI-generated content — some disposable, some interesting.
What was meant to be a clarification on DJ Mogo’s part has instead become a saga of doubt and unanswered questions, hence still fooling the internet. As the digital trend of “Hawak Mo Ang Beat” dies down, the question remains: how do we stand out?
The answer might lie in exactly what Villacarillo and Datu highlighted: the “human artifacts.” The breaths, the pauses, the linguistic quirks, and the intentional imperfections.
In a world of artificial echoes, our appetite for the genuine, the flawed, and the “perfectly imperfect” story remains our most defining trait as humans.