THERE was a time when radio airplay and TV guestings were the ultimate markers of a song’s success. Now, all it takes is 15 seconds – just the right line, the right beat drop, or the right vulnerability – and a song can go from obscure to viral, thanks to TikTok. And it’s not just a one-time spike. Those short clips? They’re launching OPM tracks straight to the top of Spotify charts, turning unsigned musicians into stars, and reshaping how the local music industry works.
This isn’t a fluke. It’s the new system.
Personal stories, public platforms
Take Cup of Joe’s “Multo,” for example – a soft and gut-punch of a track about being haunted by a love that lingers. The song didn’t come with a flashy marketing campaign. No viral dance trend. No major PR push. What it had was resonance. Suddenly, TikTok feeds were flooded with dimly lit confessions, photo dumps of exes, late-night POVs, and raw, front-camera vulnerability. People weren’t just posting content – they were telling stories. Stories where Multo became the soundtrack to feelings they hadn’t put into words until then. As some captions go: “When your ‘multo’ isn’t a person but…” – followed by whatever it is that haunts them.
It was never just about the song. It was about how people made it theirs.
Recent OPM tracks ruling the TikTok soundscape
“Tibok” by Earl Agustin: Released in 2023, Tibok is a laid-back, groove-heavy love song that captures the early thrills of a budding crush. The line “Nagsimula sa simple na pasulyap-sulyap, nagpapapansin sa ‘yo” struck a chord with TikTok users, becoming the backdrop for flirty POVs, romantic edits, and feel-good confessionals. Its chill beat, paired with Earl Agustin’s mellow vocals, made it a favorite for creators, pushing the song into viral territory and securing its spot on local streaming charts.
“Sa Bawat Sandali” by Amiel Sol: Sa Bawat Sandali is a soft, sentimental ballad about longing and love. It quietly found its way into the spotlight through the romcom series Ang Mutya ng Section E, and from there, TikTok did the rest. Users paired it with moments of reflection, like sunsets, airport goodbyes, or even dogs patiently waiting for their owners. The song wasn’t loud, but it was honest. Its vulnerability resonated deeply with long-distance lovers, heartbroken teens, and solo travelers. As of writing, the track has over 80 million Spotify streams – largely thanks to its organic momentum on the app.
“Marilag” by Dionela: Marilag is a feel-good R&B anthem celebrating natural beauty and confidence. TikTok creators used it for everything from make-up routines to self-affirmation edits. But beyond the aesthetics, it also spoke to identity, especially for young Filipinas embracing their morena skin, unfiltered faces, and real selves. Released in late 2024, the song quickly hit #1 on several local streaming charts, and Dionela’s TikTok presence exploded.
TikTok as the new A&R tool
In the past, artists needed label support, radio play, and media coverage to break into the mainstream. Today, TikTok has become the new A&R tool. According to a 2023 TikTok report, over 75% of users discover new music through the platform, and 63% hear songs there before anywhere else. That kind of visibility can change the entire trajectory of a song and an artist’s career.
Emerging musicians now post snippets of unreleased tracks to test the waters. A line catches on, the audio trends, and demand builds organically even before a full release. Labels are paying attention. Music Business Worldwide reports that many major labels now use TikTok data, like sound virality and video usage as key scouting metrics. What used to take months of development can now happen in a week’s worth of scrolls.
Because of this, songwriting and production styles are evolving. Rolling Stone notes that artists are now crafting songs with short-form content in mind, keeping intros brief, placing the hook early, and writing lyrics sharp enough to stand alone in a 15-second video. Alternate versions – sped-up, slowed-down, acoustic – are often pre-planned, knowing fans might create demand for them.
Labels also partner with content creators, launching low-key campaigns that don’t feel like ads. Billboard reports that these creators are given early access to unreleased tracks in exchange for natural-feeling content – POV storytelling, soft challenges, even cinematic edits. Release timing is also strategic: sad songs on Sunday nights, kilig tracks in the lead-up to Valentine’s Day. It’s subtle, but indeed smart.
More than just a trend machine, TikTok is now part of the blueprint. Artists aren’t just making songs – they’re making sounds that can live in stories, edits, and confessions. And for many, that’s where the real connection and the real success begins.
Short-form, long impact
Here’s what’s wild: a song doesn’t even have to be new to trend. TikTok has revived older OPM tracks (think: Heaven Knows by Orange & Lemons, Blue Sky by Hale, Simpleng Tao by Gloc-9) by turning them into trends. One viral edit, and suddenly a 15-year-old song is topping Gen Z playlists.
And while some fear this pushes artists to prioritize virality over substance, others argue it’s simply changing the way stories are told. Music is becoming more interactive, democratic, and responsive. Artists no longer just drop a track and wait. They watch. They engage. They adapt.
A community of listeners, not just consumers
Perhaps the most beautiful part? The sense of community.
TikTok users aren’t just streaming songs. They’re using them to open up. To say, “This is what I’m going through.” Whether it’s heartbreak, healing, longing, or joy – music becomes a shared language. TikTok becomes the town square, and OPM becomes a mirror.
We used to wait for a song to hit the radio before we knew it was a hit. Now, we see it on TikTok – paired with a quiet confession, a shaky voiceover, or a soft laugh, and we feel it’s a hit. Because it’s real. Because it’s ours.
From Multo to Tibok, Marilag to Sa Bawat Sandali, these songs aren’t just topping charts. They’re touching people. And in a world that moves this fast, the fact that one song – one lyric – can stop us in our tracks? That’s the kind of virality that lasts.
