Jud Flores is Blooming

In his interview with THE CHOW, singer-songwriter Jud Flores shares where he gets his sound, which powerhouse singers he's crushing on, and why Filipinos love karaoke.

In every season of popular reality singing shows in the 2000s-2010s, there was always a Filipino contestant. On the stages of American Idol, X Factor, or The Voice, the contestant would first woo the audience without fail with a backstory about hardship, leaving the Philippines to pursue their dreams. Later, they’d shock the crowd by delivering a pitch-perfect rendition of Whitney Houston, Mariah Carey, Beyonce, or Christina Aguilera.

The Filipino singer was a viral showstopper for a time when broadcast television was still relevant: Jaw-dropping vocal gymnastics combined with an underdog story are an easy formula to capture the attention of a broad audience (as TV was trying to do in its heyday). But how does this change in the internet, where the tendency is to appease hyper-niche interests and low attention spans?

New media calls for a new Filipino singer, and the work of Jud Flores, a Hong Kong-based singer-songwriter-producer, might give some hints on how that might sound. His discography sits at the crossroads of R&B and hip hop, something of a Summer Walker meets Ariana Grande, where the emphasis is on mixing upbeat synth waves with long, indulgent notes. Jud’s work is internet first: “I first started in music covering Ariana Grande online,” he says, which quickly grew his following of listeners on social media (he currently has 11,000+ followers on Instagram). As with most Filipino singers, you can still hear traces of vocal gymnastics in Jud’s work—he traverses between registers in songs like “Malibu”—but it’s less one trick. “I’m not really catered to one specific sound or listener,” he says. Other songs like “your only” combine upbeat rap verses with the same high notes that Jud is known for.

It’s the sign of our times. Perhaps when the spirit of our times is in changing interests and low-attention spans, the Filipino singer, like Jud, must become a musical chameleon.

PK: In your own words, how would you describe your sound?

JF: I grew up with a very musically influenced family. My dad used to play in bands in Hong Kong before in the ‘90s. And around the same time, my mom was singing Donna Summer and Madonna at nightclubs. Like her musical career, my earlier projects were very synth-wave and ‘80s inspired. Very Donna Summer. I love the lushness. But I first started in music covering Ariana Grande online. Over the years, it’s become more modern R&B.

Favorite song on eternal sunshine?

Stop. I can’t even pick. But if I had to, my top two would be “boy is mine” and “supernatural.” Ariana reminded me a lot of Mariah Carey when I first listened back in 2013. I love listening to all these women with crazy vocal gymnastics and I’d always ask myself “How did they do it?,” then later mimicking them and adapting their styles for myself.

Filipinos do have a tendency to mimic powerhouse female vocalists like Ariana and Mariah.

Filipinos are karaoke singers. We really want to sound like the record for some reason, like you’re listening to the original artist whenever Filipinos are singing it.

In my music at least, I have to change it because I’m a male singer. I can’t really sound like Ariana Grande.

That’s a great way of putting it though: karaoke is naturally a form that emphasizes emulation over creation. As a Filipino artist, how are you offering something new that doesn’t keep Filipinos locked into the curse of just copying?

I also grew up a karaoke singer, but I do like to genre-bend a lot of my music. I even had a drill song once. I’m not really catered to one specific sound or listener. I could come out with a Charlie XCX-style record tomorrow.

What’s your go-to karaoke song?

I just sang it last night: “I Have Nothing” by Whitney.

Original key?

Yeah. Surprisingly.

Amazing.

I have chronic asthma, which logically makes me a worse singer since I’d have trouble breathing. But then it makes me use my falsetto a lot to hit higher notes. I used to sound a bit too airy, like I was dying and gasping for air. But now my vocal cords have just adapted to it.

Why do you think Filipinos love karaoke so much?

We’re hopeless romantics. I can't think of a Filipino singer who doesn't sing about love. And when we hear something lyrically or sonically, we really feel it. Karaoke lets us sing like we’re in someone else’s shoes. It makes us feel like we’re not alone.

I think a lot about the Filipino “harana,” when a male singer serenades his lover on the balcony. Any element of that in your music?

Totally. I love the thrill of liking someone and not knowing where it’ll go. Most of my songs are about people in my life, and the moments with them that are good, bad, intimate.

That’s why your sound works. The elongated, rich notes are really indulgent in a way that captures these feelings. But why lean into smoother, rich notes over something that your Ari, Mariah, and your other influnces do, like a power-ballad?

I love singing like it’s my last day. But the music scene I grew up around was mainly upbeat hip hop. Listening to ballads is different from making them. I’m not against them, but I think I just haven’t explored that part of me yet.

Kiss, marry, kill: Mariah Carey, Whitney Houston, Christina Aguilera.

I’d marry Whitney. Oh my gosh, I miss her. Kiss Mariah. And I’d have to kill Christina. I’m so sorry. She's iconic, but maybe a bit too rough vocally for me.

You’ve built a following on Instagram. What’s your relationship with the internet as an artist?

I didn’t think my reels would blow up. It was overwhelming at first. Too many people watching. But I also really appreciate when people comment, even if they don’t know me. Through the internet, I’m connected to my real purpose in making music: to reach people who relate.

The internet’s really changed what it means to be an artist. It democratized artistry, but for real exposure you have to be a social media personality first before anything else.

I just hope people are doing it for the right reasons. For love of the art, not the fame. Some people put quantity over quality, and it feels forced. But music is not about numbers. No amount of followers can buy you a good voice.

Does your last name, “Flores,” mean anything to you as an artist?

I’ve wanted to build a project around it. It means “flower” in Spanish. And flowers bloom, then die, and bloom again. There’s something about that cycle between highs and lows: you grow, and become more grateful. I’d love to make something around that one day.

There’s already a sense of that in your music, in the way you experiment with genre.

You’re reading my mind. I love flowers. Especially sunflowers. I’d be a sunflower if I had to pick. Instead of Jude Flores I’d be Jude Sun-Flores.