A mixture of nature, technology and a lot of soul, The Language of Branches is a new, improvised offering from Mexican multidisciplinary artist, Julian Bonequi.

     A couple of years ago, I had a very interesting conversation with Julian Bonequi that started with me asking him about something he mentioned in an interview in regards to liking a band because he felt they had a black metal vibe going on. The intention was to see if he could recommend some black metal albums that had influenced him, but he was quick to point out that he was more of a death metal/grindcore fan growing up, and his interest in black metal resided more in its overall energy, rather than in the specifics of the movement. 

     Among his favorite death metal and grindcore bands, he listed Cannibal Corpse, Napalm Death (his favorite album of all time being Scum), Sepultura, and many classics more, inadvertently validating some references I used to describe his previous approach to music which used to be more guttural; but, at some point during the conversation, he confessed a need to lean more towards the spiritual. This shift has been very apparent, with his more recent work progressively taking a trans-human quality, mixing software, makeshift instruments, and the use of his expressive voice, which is what puts the ghost in the machine. This latest release is no exception, but the approach and result feels even more introspective than before.

     Now, a review cannot be written about music that aims to be spiritual, hence, I’m only framing its context so it can understood and enjoyed accordingly. The Language of Branches was captured in Indonesia -Julian’s current whereabouts and where he was attending an instrument-crafting workshop-, but what we hear in this recording are not those sacred instruments he built; instead these are the result of a fusion between Mexican and Asian folk instrumentation -the Chapareke, the Celempung, and the Karinding mouth harp- after Bonequi found similarities among them and decided to create a hybrid instrument based on their singular qualities. This would have been interesting on its own, but visionary that he is, Julian decided to complement this piece with coded field recordings (written in open-sourced software), and contact mics to capture the physicality of his interaction with the instrument, creating a very lively and tactile sonic experience.

     Bonequi presents us with something truly unique that kindly asks us to surrender to it, because what’s being offered deserves our attention. The natural harmonics that pierce and cut through the the calm -yet menacing- ostinato, the textures captured by the contact mic adding weight and depth, Bonequi’s subtle vocal presence merging with his instrument’s timbre, and the unnerving coded filed recordings that sound like an AI’s fever dream of birds and water, all create this very consistent vision of a cyber-primitive sacred space, ravaged by the passage of time, but salvaged by the human need to connect with something higher.