Fuimos Viajeros

Dulce Condena

Dulce Condena could be just another release that keeps perpetuating the image of Tijuana being a testing ground for Ramona soundalikes; however, if we were to keep it entirely instrumental, there’s actually some hidden potential in Fuimos Viajeros’ work.

Today I found myself thinking ab… you know what? I’ll just cut right to it with no introduction as I’m getting kind of tired of that formula. So, I hereby present our new reviewing method, The Knee-jerk Reaction Review (with emphasis on the jerk part):

The debut EP by Fuimos Viajeros is inoffensive and enjoyable; I can almost guarantee that your mom and dad will like it, and won’t mind giving you money so you can go see them along with your support-the-local scene friends once the quarantine is over. The songs are well written and their structures are easy to follow, but -emotionally-they stand in the same range as other local bands; they also have a vintage sound to show us they were born in the wrong generation. The band’s performance feels natural, although some songs feel empty and underdeveloped. The musical lexicon is somewhat interesting, and along with a playful trumpet that appears when necessary, it gives the album a much needed -although brief- whiff of distinction.

Is the review over? Well, we wouldn’t be densidad20.25 if we only kept it to one simple paragraph instead of our signature bloated texts which consist of 5% actual reviewing and 95% rants about wanting everything to be dark, moody and noisy. Therefore, dear reader, you can choose to stop reading since what you “needed” to know about the album has already been addressed, or you can keep going, delving into our usual snobbish postures and needless overanalyzing of what others do with all their love to bring some joy to the world (we urge you to please select the latter as we desperately need an audience).

We all have had it happen to us while consuming any art form: the more you listen to an album or watch a movie, the more you start picking up on where the artist is coming from, and what at first you may have thought to be a completely original piece, slowly reveals to be just run-of-the-mill work. Sometimes it happens in reverse though, and the more you keep returning to it, the work in question becomes more and more authentic.

Through the repeated listens I payed to Dulce Condena, it discretely revealed a side of that was purely its own. It plays with styles that -locally- haven’t been touched upon, or at least not in the way Fuimos Viajeros do it. Although their attempts at folk may be too simplistic or on the nose, they do have a distinct touch; mind you, this is not an endorsement on the band’s originality -they’re still far from achieving it- but we have to admit there’s hidden potential worthy of being exploited. With their subtle use of balkan folk (“Dulce Condena”, “Viaje 2”) and their groove oriented pieces (“Viaje 3”), we may have our own Menahan Street Band or Gulag Orkestar era Beirut in the making, instead of another Ramona clone.

At first, the only interesting part that I could identify was the “Viajes” triad, although these pieces give the impression that the band just gave up on them and tried to pass them off as interludes. There’s also some slight dissonances the band will fall into every now and then along their chord progressions which give the tracks a bittersweet feel, even if the overall experience is still as sweet as maple syrup; I mean, “Cielo” could be a Ramona or Jardín early demo track, and that’s like the pinnacle of sweetness. However, there are certain bits and pieces in which the band seems to be onto something: what Fuimos Viajeros achieve during the ending of the titular track and the closing song in its entirety, truly feel like the stems from which something fresh can grow.

While not exactly a new band, it’s obvious that Fuimos Viajeros is still in development but they’re doing it just fine. “Amor Perdido” is an undeniable good single that even veers away from the usual influences by sounding a little like Cream’s “World of Pain”, and the album’s flow is steady enough to keep the listener engaged. The vintage-style production, although gimmicky, doesn’t come off as forced and it does embed some parts with a little personality. Don’t mistake this EP’s friendly approach for a lack of spark. It can be easy to dismiss as yet another release that keeps perpetuating the image of Tijuana being a testing ground for Ramona soundalikes, but even so, at least Fuimos Viajeros is doing it with some style.

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