The way that Kan Wakan's Kristianne Bautista sings about the matters of the heart -- the things they want and the things that they wind up with -- you would think that you were being swallowed up by some kind of blockbuster of a horizon, one that's out to get you, one that's immovable, unreachable. It's a kind of powerful go or no-go that puts you right in the middle of a dramatic whirring of ebbs and flows, all butting into one another and whipping up a strange turbulence that we start recognizing as a lullaby. We're soothed by the fluctuations of affection, by the threat of the bottom falling completely out or by unfaithfulness. There's a need to keep close tabs on the love that's being given out and the one that's being harvested in these songs of epic strokes. These are breathless, breezy accounts of the fragility of all the emotions that other people tend to bring out in us. These are the rip tides that we either respect or are doomed by.