“The music is always in constant movement, avoiding stops and giving no respite in its search for new beginnings”. Thus spoke the album’s press release. What intrigues is the “new beginnings” snippet, for Aq’ab’al – the Mayan equivalent of “yin and yang”, in a way – presents ceaseless cascades of sounds so fiercely disruptive that hypothesizing anything but a “ground zero” stage following the acoustic onslaught is rather difficult.
Alternatively, if we want to scrutinize this record from another point of observation, the ideal definition would be something like “brutally honest”. Costa Monteiro and García are not fond of preliminaries, immediately launching their equipment into the “full blast” furnace where everything remotely affiliated with the rational rendering of an unruly force dissolves in the lava of non-significance. However, you know what I mean with the latter expression: the monolithic mass of ill-shapen pitches, irregular waveforms and piercing partials IS the essence, and it does not need to be translated. One either gets it, or doesn’t. In other words: better be ready, or else the brain is going to get mercilessly slammed around (which, in certain human specimens, could even produce an unforeseen betterment. That’s a different story, though).
Finally, these four tracks will cut the throat of false serenity with ease. This is one of those instances where creative intransigence must be assisted by the listener’s determination to go on in spite of a lack of average aesthetic references. A nerve-consuming experience is often remembered as formative after the elapsing of some time; accordingly, a conscious sinking in this blistering quagmire might work wonders for someone still convinced that an all-embracing compatibility should necessarily rhyme with “concordance”. As an illustrious precursor used to say, it ain’t necessarily so.