Releases that range from okay to magnificent (at least to our ears).

by Roberto Mendez

Majestic Downfall - Aorta

There’s an underlying problem in León’s local scene which has singlehandedly caused it to become stale: the lack of identity and the lack of continuity of a project. However, Majestic Downfall manage to stand out with their sixth album, in which they continue to expand their sound, which has always been informed by death/doom, with an old-school flair, that links them to bands like Katatonia or Funeral.

Aorta is made up of four huge tracks with intros that come off as incomplete, due to the expectation they create thanks to their overall feel, which feels linked to the more technical side of metal: we are left with the impression that we are about to enter prog territory, but that’s not the case; thus, the intros awkwardly resolve into songs that surpass the 15 minute mark in which an aesthetic is not decided upon.

The balance between the atmospheric part of doom and the aggressiveness of death is never quite there. Majestic Downfall juggles between one style and another, with a semi-cohesive result, but, by now, it should already feel integrated. Fortunately, the performance and production give Aorta enough quality to stand out in the national scene — especially in the oh-so-beaten León scene. To playing in the “big leagues”, Majestic Downfall still has some details to polish, though it’s important to mention that they are on the right track.

Wallachian Cobwebs - Night Sobbed a Potion Diseased

An examplary dungeon synth album that alternates between extremely somber and harrowing pieces, and Summoning-style anthemic fanfares but it is done in a manner in which the transitions don’t feel abrupt. Even as it goes from heart wrenching melancholy to an almost celebratory flair, it doesn’t feel emotionally all over the place, as it is anchored to a stable core; Night Sobbed carries its mourning all the way to the end. It’s not that it is unsure of what it wants to convey, it simply shows range. 

Can the music be somewhat melodramatic? Yes, but that’s one of the elements inherent to the dungeon synth aesthetic; furthermore, the exaggerated passages are leveled out by subtle pieces more akin to dark ambient accompanied by unintelligible samples, and of course, the raw and lo-fi approach also helps keep everything from going overboard. Should this be overproduced, it would surely veer into campy territory. And while dungeon synth can sometimes be involuntarily cheesy, Wallachian Cobwebs avoids this thanks to its well-written and well-performed pieces.

Manitas Nerviosas - A Love Suprememe

Unlike Manitas Nerviosas’ previous works, which focuses on a more abstract sound, A Love Suprememe leans towards a mix of rock and pop elements through an indie-aesthetic filter, but still with some edge to it; and while its psychedelic elements aren’t precisely challenging, they are not completely bland like those of other Mexican bands. However, it is clear that the intention was not to be disruptive, but sincere, and this duality between accessible and obtuse is accentuated thanks to the excellent production work in hands of the artist herself.

The poly-stylistic romp of A Love Suprememe, with all its formality, is reminiscent of Yves Tumor’s shift from Safe in the Hands of Love to Heaven for a Tortured Mind, but in this case, the transition adds personality instead of removing it. Valis elegantly shines in every role she takes, whether as a composer, performer or producer. Her versatility sees her incurring in tracks with a Radiohead/Animal Collective air, with one foot in rock and the other in pop; one arm in folk and the other in techno; her body shrouded in light, but her mind lost in the unknown. A Love Suprememe is eclectic but remains cohesive thanks to the sensitivity, sincerity and brevity of its songs.

The last two tracks don’t have the same power as the previous ones, since they feel quite "normal" compared to the idiosyncrasy that precedes them, but "El sol y sus flagelos" at least manages to end the album on high note once the tepid techno passage paves the way to a Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness-type piano balad. Valis prolongs the last word enunciated throughout the album creating tension, which is resolved as the last syllable is finally pronounced. With this dynamic, Valis achieves what a lot of other artists fail to do upon ending their albums, which is giving a proper sense of closure.

Hotel Kali - Hotel Kali

The debut of this multicultural project explores pop from a psychedelic and minimalist filter, which could grant them modest success should they ever decide to perform in Mexico, as their sound is not that far removed from the krautrock/psych-pop trend that dominates much of the national aesthetic. The album sticks to an Altin Gun or Sven Wunder-style sound, mixing folk elements with colorful, modern production and instrumentation, without feeling like bland appropriation.

The use of folklore is not banal nor insistent, it is simply a resource that enriches each piece’s sound palette. However, apart from its predilection for the accessible, Hotel Kali reveals a curiosity to get lost in sometimes uncomfortable textures, and for the meditative qualities of repetition. The intro track evokes Kraftwerk’s minimalism as it slowly progresses, ending perfectly in “Stay When”, which has a more lively groove with choruses and harmonies similar to what we would hear in works by French lounge and psych-pop projects, such as Bon Voyage Organization or Moodoid just to name a few.

Although there are times when the tracks may lose their magnetism, they always have at least one stand-out element. A perfect example would be “Calm-Storm”, a piece that ends the album with a fantastic send-off, in which the instrumentation seems to be slowly blooming into a delta of noise and tension; however, before we get there, one must endure a repetitive line that becomes a bit tiring. Nonetheless, thanks to its organic versatility, Hotel Kali ends up being a rather promising debut.

Joe Morris/Damon Smith - Gusts Against Particles

Despite circling around each other in the improv and free music scene, this album is the first official release from guitarist Joe Morris and double-bass acrobat, Damon Smith, since they met 16 years ago. Both being tenured musicians in both formal and unrestrained settings, and both really understanding each other they have crafted an album that is weirdly harmonic, but it is mostly slippery by design. 

The lexicon is completely devoid of its usual meaning, because the duo turns it upside down. Damon doesn’t play walking bass lines: it sounds more as if they were meandering through a maze from which they’re not intending to get out of. Morris is not playing the guitar as much as he is just using it to create sounds. These observations are intended to be celebratory and not demeaning, as the messy conversation between the two musicians results in an interesting interplay of timbres and seemingly random notes and sounds that are more stimulating than the usual guitar-and-bass dynamic. Granted, this is not breaking ground, but it proves to be engaging nonetheless. 

The chemistry between Smith and Morris is vivid, colorful and full of sparks, which could make Gusts Against Particles a great gateway record for someone to get into the serpentine and labyrinthine world of free improvisation and, perhaps, that’s its greatest achievement. Of course, the pieces are great because of their abstract nature, but the effortless performance feels full of tension yet relaxed, which strips away much of the high-brow uptightness that most avant garde and experimental artists give off. Gusts Against Particles takes us back to when these types of approaches really were meant to be a celebration of freedom.

Aluviana - Kee Thara

At this point, a one-man project that calls itself experimental for the simple fact of using effect pedals and creating arpeggiated loops can be a bit laughable, but we shouldn't ignore those who are actually trying to expand the idiomatic aesthetics and possibilities of the guitar. Kee Thara is beautifully crafted guitar expressionism achieved through the use of extended techniques and instrument preparation

Despite being completely processed and altered, Aluviana never lets us forget that we are listening to a guitar, as its natural timbre filters through tiny spaces. Far from "ruining the magic", this works more like an ephemeral window to reality that lets us appreciate the aural surrealism at hand.

The sounds achieved by Aluviana are vast, but what stands out is that not everything is the result of processed sound; throughout the album, we can hear that the guitar strings are being treated in different ways and with different objects, and the effects acting more like a support, accentuating the peculiarity of the resulting tones and timbres. "Kt-1" opens with this manifesto, since the guitar is recognizable despite not emitting chords or arpeggios; little by little it takes different forms while a drone sways in the background, panning from one side to the other, giving pulse to an aural mutant that still retains some of its original essence. Kee Thara is an ode to the subjectivity of the familiar.

Soccer Committee - Tell From the Grass

After 10 years of absence, singer-songwriter Mariska Baars returns with an album that is as ephemeral as it is intimate, enveloping and enigmatic. Tell From the Grass is an exercise in which simplicity is stretched to a point where, for a moment, you might think that Baars is playing these songs just for you via phone call.

Soccer Committee achieves a lot with so little because what little she decides to give feels essential. This explains and justifies the short duration of each song, and although they end abruptly in some cases, there is something quite satisfying about them. It all boils down to their hyper-intimate and sincere core. Even in a song where Baars repeats the same idea over and over ("Hazy"), the melody is so pleasant that it would not matter if she repeated it for more than 10 minutes straight.

Maybe it's the faint sounds of the environment that were inadvertently captured while recording, or the sounds of Mariska getting ready to start playing, but Tell From the Grass absorbs like an untouched, unfiltered portrait and there is its charm.

Rắn Cạp Đuôi - Ngủ Ngày Ngay Ngày Tận Thế

Based in Vietnam, this young electronic collective continues to increase its lysergic dose with each release. In this album, the psychedelia is intense and exorbitant (as it should be); almost every track seems to be stumbling as it progresses, finally breaking into a thousand pieces and sounding completely different from what preceded it just a few seconds ago.

However, Rắn Cạp Đuôi’s greatest achievement is the coherence with which they endow their songs despite the fact that everything seems to have been put together on the fly; the sound palette is wide but it also feels uniform. It is clear that this trio has already consolidated its own aesthetic, although there are still some nods to foreign elements. An immediate comparison could be the work of Iglooghost, since they share similarities both in production and in some of the sound design; nonetheless, Rắn Cạp Đuôi handles a wide enough stylistic variety to avoid being linked to a single point of reference.

Ngủ Ngày is an entertaining album but one that avoids being complacent and that is not afraid of putting the listener in a difficult position with some cuts that border on noise, or that sonic oxymoron with which the last piece opens: a serene drone that is invaded by an erratic wind instrument, successfully mixing free jazz with ambient without the result sounding forced or pretentious. And in fact, that's how the whole album flows: naturally despite its irregular structures. Being adept at improvisation and sound play since their teenage years, Rắn Cạp Đuôi shows that it is only a matter of time before they become masters of aural alteration and future references for experimental music.

Akvan - City of Blood

Akvan is a one-man black metal project from Iran, and as is customary in this controversial genre, there is a deep rootedness and attachment to roots that remains very latent thanks to folkloric hints, in which tremolo picking and blast beats are combined with Middle Eastern modes to musicalize piercing screams charged with rage and a sense of loss. City of Blood is an album with a conceptual arc -based on real-life tragedies- where protest is the main driving force, and is supported by many references to other works that also comment on these devastating war events that Iran has been a victim of.

From start to finish, Akvan lashes out with nuanced, well-organized fury, which doesn't detract from his extreme nature or impact; rather, it ends up creating an air of nostalgia through contrast. The guitar in “Vanquish All” and “Hidden Wounds” move with the elegance of an Iranian classical piece taken to the extreme (this is accentuated with a lute overdubbing the guitars); "In Narrow Graves" paints a desolate and devastated landscape, emanating sadness from its tranquility.

No track feels disposable, and the sound is fairly homogenic (except for "Narrow Graves"); if it had more tracks, the experience might have become a bit monotonous, so leaving it in these four cuts was the right call. As it is, the message cane be absorbed and its impact is not affected. City of Blood is a very good example of how elegance , the rawness, the meticulous and the extreme don’t necessarily repel one another, but it also shows how contrast can be used to provide depth.

Emilio Berne - NOIOSE

A hybrid between organic and electronic, sound artist Emilio Bernè mixes the rough textures generated by the feedback of no input mixing, with an abstract approach towards the drums, to which objects and microphones have been added to alter its timbre.

NOIOSE does not intend to explore or exploit the rhythmic qualities of the instrument, but rather its more expressionist properties, taking advantage of whatever can be captured and trying to imitate intermittence and glitches. What we hear is practically Emilio complementing his stop-and-start dynamics, with breezy textures from fidget spinners placed on the snare and being captured by contact microphones.

In paper, the use of figet spinners may sound funny, but in reality, Emilio achieves a certain level of sonic idiosyncracy, although it can become somewhat repetitive. This is not about exhibiting technique, but the technical lexicon is only reduced to drumrolls, and thanks to a ver austere setup (bass drum, snare and a couple of cymbals), the sound palette is restrained to only those elements. However, the first piece discreetly evolves to a quite satisfactory ending, while the second track has some spaces that allow for a different dynamic to seep through every now and then.

In general, NOIOSE is to be absorbed as a whole, and those moments where each element converges creating glimpses of a quite peculiar chaos make the experience whorthwhile.