(SIC) have always blurred the line that separates being, technology and sound through their intense and power performances. Programmatic Evilness faithfully evokes the feeling of sharing the same space as the duo is in action.

There’s a parasitic dynamic between the members of Mexico City’s (SIC). It’s easy to notice if you see one of their live performances: You can see how they drain each other’s energy in favor of something greater than them. There’s no clear distinction between the (seemingly) random noises and textures coming from the electronics and the vocal contortions of both Rodrigo Ambriz and Julián Bonequi. They have always blurred the line that separates being, technology and sound, and the way they open their most recent production, with each member entering the scene and then fusing together in a macabre way, seems to be an ode to that manifesto; it is also perfectly summarized in the bizarre cover art, depicting an actual parasite taking ahold of a poor host.

Programmatic Evilness starts with gargles, shrieks and hisses, while electronic effects try to keep up; finally, Julián Bonequi's amplified drums come to add volume and mass, rumbling in a distorted low register, completing this grotesque scene. Despite its total disregard for any established musical language, among all the chaos we can identify a very clear link to the sounds of artists like Hanatarash, Naked City, Yosuke Yamashita, Milford Graves and Senyawa, among other avant-garde and noise staples. However, (SIC) maintains their essence intact, operating inside their own idiosyncratic bubble.

"Caminata del quemado" is a somewhat misleading track, because its steady rhythm could give us the impression that this will be a piece with a more-or-less traditional structure, and by the band’s standards, that may be the case; however, it is actually one of the best moments on the album precisely because of how it evolves becoming more unhinged as it progresses. In a short TV segment dedicated to the duo a few years ago, Bonequi mentions that, as improvised as everything may sound, there is compositional work behind it, and “Caminata” is a great example of that side of (SIC).

The production is at a midpoint where we can appreciate every detail but without feeling squeaky-clean; but the aspect that deserves to be highlighted is that Ambriz and Bonequi's intense deliveries are captured with the rawness that distinguishes their live performances, which makes this album an excellent simulation of what to expect when sharing the same space when the duo is in action. Moments like “Aquello que sobreviva’s” later half really come blasting through the speakers. The energy is heavy and one can’t help to fall victim to this level of intensity. 

Programmatic Evilness does not lose its visceral power at any time, as this instinctive energy has always been (SIC)’s main driving force. Everything is propelled by noise, frenzy, and harsh timbres from both the voice and the electronics. However, another quite inherent element of the group is its ritualistic approach, and the pieces that make up this album keep a certain meditative and tribal quality; in this way, Bonequi and Ambriz have created a monster that is not afraid to give in to its most basic and savage drives, but is also not reluctant to an introspective process, even if it is as violent as the chaos that surrounds it.