#discómanos records

[thesunlounge]

Reviews 325: Alberto Garralón

Back in 2018, Discómanos Records debuted with a stunning compilation entitled La llama de Prometeo: La puerta de entrada a las Nuevas Músicas Españolas, which did for Spain’s "new music” scene what Alixkun’s Kumo No Muko compilations did for Japanese synth-pop and ambient…that is to say, La llama de Prometeo, while touching on the works of familiar artists such as Suso Saiz, Iury Lech, Pedro Estevan, María Villa, Finis Africæ, Eliseo Parra, and Pablo Guerrero, did so in a more intimate manner, presenting unheard and obscure compositions reflecting curators Lord Guardado’s and Daniel Nielles’ personalized journeys through this beautiful sonic universe. But the compilation went even further by shining a much deserved light on lesser known figures from the Spanish ambient underground…artists like Juan Veron Gormaz, Pedro León, Antonio García, and Alberto Garralón…all of whom delivered immersive sonic paradises that sit perfectly aside the most cherished works from Grabaciones Accidentales and Hyades Arts. 

So it’s fitting that Discómanos’ second release continues on this track, focusing specifically on the music of Alberto Garralón. Though there’s scant information available concerning the life and career of Garralón, I can at least say that Baila, Claridad! was recorded during 1989 and 1990 by way of a Tascam Portastudio and was released not long after via a limited cassette pressing. The album sees the visionary guitar player using an array of synthesizers, woodwinds, idiophones, and hand drums to explore delicate audial dreamscapes that mesmerically blend elements of Spanish traditional music and classical composition together with psychedelic folk, starry-eyed new age, pastoral prog, meditative minimalism, and exploratory kosmische. And for their reissue, Discómanos have invited in Fernando Arias of Audiorec Sound Design, who has lovingly remastered the music from the original source, allowing it to shimmer and shine anew alongside a striking visual layout featuring the high contrast photography of Koldo Serra.

Alberto Garralón - Baila, Claridad! (Discómanos, 2019) Opening track “Cuidad Mercurio” is split into three parts, the first of which is “Cuidad abierta,” where fingerpicked acoustics are layered through clouds of reverberation, radiant keyboard melodies hover like coastal mist, and blinding leads smear into sunbeam psychedelia. Then in second part “La media luna,” the fingerpicked acoustics lock into patterns of ritualistic minimalism that generate silvery flashes of luminescence…perhaps meant to evoke the light of the titular half moon as it reflects off a gentle ocean surface. And as the track progresses, a reed instrument blows through the background, adding further touches of mysterious seaside magic. “Cuidad Mercurio” ends with a final part entitled “Es to reflejo,” which sees jangling chordscapes flowing all around the spectrum. Synthesizers transmute into feedback as they soar through sky, mixing with the dreampop guitar atmospherics in a way pulling my mind to the more blissed out moments from Ishinohana. Imagine post-punk guitar riffing blurred into a daydream hallucination, or a space pop guitar instrumental scoring some impossible sunset. Pianos, marimbas, kalimbas, and other solar idiophones dance beneath starlight bell tapestries in “Iria Feliz,” while hand drums hold down a rainforest groove. Wavering guitar solos alternate with ghostly leads that squiggle through a sunrise sky and there are gamelan evocations in the way the interlocking loops of exotic metal generate hallucinogenic polyrhythms, with everything being wrapped around by aquatic organ wavefronts. And when the rhythms pull away, we find ourselves in a swooning section of “Heart and Soul” romance, where FM fluids cycle around sprightly guitar patterns and organ drones flow beneath noir-pop atmospheres recalling the work of Badalamenti, especially on Twin Peaks.

Droning bass synthesizers open “Julia” while aqueous organs generate underwater currents that radiate outward in every direction. Twinkling FM bells flutter through echo machines, synthetic woodwinds mimic the songs of whales, glowing feathers lilt down on unseen air currents, and shadowy clouds of gas billow out from deep sea vents while melancholic pad melodies wrap around the heart…sounding almost theremin-esque and evoking classical music, only as approximated by oceanic spirits and instruments of choral, seashell, and crystal. “Bye, Bye Babilonia” follows and shrouds guitar arpeggiations in layers of slapback while glass-toned chords spread out across the stereo spectrum. Another guitar is manipulated via cosmic synthesis, with epic melodies flowing towards some blood red horizon even as they mutate and modulate into cosmic liquid. The vibe is majestic and melancholic…like a spaghetti western adventure across a land of darkness, wherein unseen temple bells toll far in the distance. And as new age chimes sparkle like starlight amidst the shadowy melodic environments, clouds of subsonic smoke work into the mix and wrap gently around the body. The poetically titled “Esto es amor… (Esto es el mar)” begins as a buzzing keyboard fantasia, with a harpsichord beaming in from some unknowable dimension joined by malfunctioning machine approximations of a piano. Each and every note trails thick clouds of black smoke, which then overlap to create pulsing wavefronts of resonance. There are tones of wistful nostalgia lurking behind the synthetic keyboard smolder…as if Garralón is yearning for some dreamworld that never was…and as the track progresses, my mind wanders to the alien keyboard interludes and manipulated piano lullabies of Mogwai’s Young Team.

The B-side opens with “Baila, Claridad!” and its mallet instruments dancing while bass pulses climb joyously towards the clouds. A soft pitter-patter rhythm flows underneath, almost martial in nature, and the whole thing evokes a pastoral lullaby, especially as acoustic guitar arpeggios fall like a rain of photons. Steel strings vibrate across the mix, synthesized gas clouds glow like the morning sun, virtual marimbas splash through tide pools, epic guitar themes seek out the horizon, and at some point, a joyous voice sings deep within the background ether. Later, as palm-muted guitar melodics begin supporting the energetic layers of pastoral folk riffing, a sitar-esque buzz dances through mix, adding subdued hues of Indian classical music. “Adios a los sintetizadores” sequences vibraphones and marimbas into drunken patterns that are soon overlaid by heart-melting bass descents and ghostly pad hazes. Then as we bid farewell to the synthesizers, the mix gives over to virtual idiophonics and zany electro drum processionals, with pounding tom rhythms flowing in and out of phase while guitars jangle in the distance. Then in “Rew,” organ drones flow out from a spiritual oasis and electronic feedback manipulations quiver as if orgasming before zipping backwards in time…the whole thing evoking an LSD-laced church hymn accented by wobbling brass. The mallet instruments return for “A mis amigos” and execute starscape rituals while synthesized woodwinds move between lullaby hypnosis and kosmische psychosis. There’s a touch of mystical desert folk music to the proceedings, with FM synths and electric organs attempting to recreate the magic atmospheres of Spanish traditional music. And as flutes and panpipes sing towards a cinematic sunset, the track evolves into a spaceage psych folk serenade.

Woozy sequences generate intergalactic bubble formations in “Madrid…Formentera” and acoustic chime tapestries surround Berlin school synth patterns while elven bell tones fall like starlight. Blurry reed melodies diffuse into the mix…perhaps a harmonica blown in desperation…with long breathy decays trailing into the mysterious night. All distinction between chiming guitars and sparkling synthesis disappears as the sounds merge towards ceremonial folk spirituality…all while simplistic chord changes push the heart towards worlds of fantasy and romance. “El sueño de Clara” see organ generated basslines smoldering beneath sprinkled guitar starlight, with everything washed out…like a lo-fi dreamscape heard through layers of analog obscuration. Further guitar accents move in, generating melodic ripples across the surface of some picturesque pond while buzzing themes of pastoral majesty bring visages of butterflies and flower fields of ever possible color. A spectacular conversations between reeds and synths pans across the stereo field, generating kaleidoscopic displays of minimal new age maximalism that evoke for me impressionistic renderings of paradise beachfronts…blurry and out of focus, yet breathtaking all the same. The album closes with “Doce cuidades blancas” and its mysterious church bells tolling through gaseous cloudforms and glowing bodies of light. Basslines move like smoke, synthesized French horns play dawn salutations, and amorphous chord formations transmute into digitized space foam…their tones almost metallic and incandescing in strange colorations. And later, as orchestral brass descents move over the mix, they lead to intriguing moments of contrast, wherein extra-terrestrial electro-vapors clash against more earthly emanations of synthesized classical music.

(images from my personal copy)

[thesunlounge]

Reviews 205: La llama de Prometeo

Discómanos is a record label and collective of artists operating out of Spain and last year they released a beautiful compilation entitled La llama de Prometeo: La puerta de entrada a las Nueves Músicas Españolas. The title translates to “The Flame of Prometheus: The Gateway to the New Spanish Music” and indeed, this collection serves as an adventurous and breathtakingly gorgeous survey of Spain’s space music, new age, and ambient scenes during the late 80s and 90s, with many of the artists here having been associated to Hyades Arts, Grabaciones Accidentales, and Música Sin-Fin. I have to thank Ban Ban Ton Ton for turning me onto this one, for if Dr. Rob hadn’t mentioned the release when writing about his Chilled / January 2019 mix, I might never have come across it. Which is altogether surprising given my fascination with this corner of Spain’s rich musical history as well as the fact the big names such as Finis Africae, Iury Lech, and Suso Saiz all appear. But there are many wonderful artists that are completely new to me as well and in every case, compiler Daniel Nielles has selected tracks that have never before been released on vinyl. The music itself is dreamy and meditative, seeing soundworlds of seaside folk, pastoral new age, heart-melting ambient, and bleary-eyed kosmische all unite for a balearic float on waves made of light. And it’s all tied together by the myth of Prometheus and some beautiful poetry from Daneil, a line of which sums up the spirit of the collection perfectly: “this compilation is a deep scream from modern gods; the flame that is still alive in this new century.”

La llama de Prometeo: La puerta de entrada a las Nuevas Músicas Españolas (Discómanos, 2018) We begin with Suso Sáiz’s “El mar que tendrá el mar” and the sounds of waves crashing to shore. Pastoral piano lullabies are shrouded in fog as bass arpeggios background crystalline leads that splash through sea-foam pools. Then comes the stunningly gorgeous and tear-inducing “Reloj de luna (María)” by Pedro Esteven, where heavenly piano chords hover in the air as heart-melting string orchestrating rain down. Chiming starshine electronics move gently through synthetic layers of violin, viola, and cello…their melodies evoking heartbreak and lost romance as layers of new age space music float the soul. At some point, an operatic angel voice enters, her wordless dreamspells swaying through dark hazes into radiant baths of moonlight while strings, voices, and pianos all surge together to lift the heart towards the sky and atmospheric bass pulses carry everything towards cloudrealms of paradise enchantment. In Finis Africae’s “Olas a Formentera,” joyous whistles fly above seaside reed orchestrations and thumping acoustic bass textures until someone calls out the song’s title, at which point we drop into a sun-soaked balearic folk dance. Riffing string instruments and soloing sitars play to the spirits of the sea and sky, their shuffling magic and waves of propulsive acoustic wonder surfed on by island breeze accordions while guitars solo and double basses thump ecstatically. Elsewhere the mix spaces out, leaving zithers and six-strings to solo softly above pulsing bass movements and sea-shanty reeds while deep and entrancing vocals chant “Formentera” from atop the rocky cliffs of Es Vedra. 

Pianos, marimbas, kalimbas, and other solar idiophones dance beneath starlight bell tapestries in Alberto Garralon’s “Iria Feliz,” while rainforest hand drums hold down an airy groove. Wavering guitar solos alternate with ghostly synth leads that squiggle through a sunrise sky and there are gamelan evocations in the way the interlocking loops of exotic metal generate hallucinogenic polyrhythms, with everything being wrapped around by aquatic organ waves. When the rhythms pull out, we find ourselves in a swooning section of nostalgic beauty, where FM synth fluids cycle around sprightly guitar patterns…everything moving together in a dance of multi-layered rhythms as organs drone out beneath noir-pop atmospheres that recall Angelo Badalamenti. One of the most surprising cuts comes from Juan Veron and Pedro Lahoze. Their “Adventures Flavour” locks ethnological drum explorations and alien hand percussion vocalisms into a hypno-groove that moves beneath wavering chime tapestries. Majestic synths, organs, and pianos climb through sparkling clouds of gold while dripping cosmic liquids coat skronking woodwinds. The ivory melodies are tracked by swelling space pads and ominous brass textures bring airs of exotic funk and Zeuhl prog. All the while, solar melodics skip through rainbow flower fields and the ritualist percussion energies merge with sonic clouds of ceremonial fusion fire.

The B-side opens with “Final sin pauses” by Iury Lech. Deep piano pulsations envelop the spirit in a fog of bass warmth as shadow and light swirl together. A mermaid sings out from oceanic depths with wordless songs of ancient magic…her mellifluous voice backed by ghostly male harmonizations as it all comes together for an aquatic aria of profound beauty. Ivory incantations and mystical voices coalesce and sooth the mind while the mix hisses and breaths with analog warmth and towards the end, the track gives itself over completely to haunted drone clouds built from dark and mysterious oscillations. The esoterica of Pablo Guerrero’s “Dragones negros” follows, with bowed string drones conjuring subterranean spirits. The mix is further adorned by bucolic windchimes while a sensuous and calming voice enters to entrance the mind, its enigmatic stories occasionally receding as harmonious clouds of ambiance swell and glow with a spectral light. The mesmerizing sonic motions are suffused by starshine chime tones and sometimes the vocalist zones out into pure throat singing and passages that resemble yodeling or Sami joiking. The droning voice fluids are backed by submarine clarinets that swim through the ever-present cascades of sparkling metal and the way these haunted woodwinds seem to float on a spectral sea of amorphous new age magic presages by decades one of my favorite songs: Eleventeen Eston’s “I Float, I am Free.” And as swirls of sound build towards slow motion ecstasy, the hypnotizing voice returns to entice the soul back to earthly realms. 

Antonio García’s “Guitarra primitive” features bubbling hand drums soaring beneath the kind of metal-against-guitar string noise associated with GY!BE’s Efrim Menuck. There are shadows of Roy Montgomery and Loren MazzaCane Connors as well in the way the searing waves of droning guitar push the mind towards bliss and as the wailing six-string orchestrations drop away, they are replaced by strange sliding tones..like drops of silver ether moving upwards along the walls of a crystal cavern. The delay fx on the hand drums morph in and out of phase and generate feverish polyrhythms in a way reminiscent of early Popol Vuh and Ash Ra Tempel and the track spends the rest of its time alternating between careening bowed guitar atmospheres and sci-fi sliding fluids until the beats drop away for a coda of pure ambient shimmer. We end with Eliseo Parra’s “Noche tranquil y serena,” which sees the calming beachside field recordings return as waves crash and seabirds sing softly. A zither modulates under aqueous phaser waves while wrapping the mind around with dazzling runs and enchanting ocean romantics. Glistening chime strands decay towards a blood red sunset and a mystical voice calls out above it all, his sliding modalities evoking a mythical Iberian ritualism. As the track progresses, a head nodding downbeat groove emerges and floats on throbbing bass currents while high in the sky, psychedelic string clouds drop subtle waves of strummed starlight and wood flutes harmonize together as they summon shadow spirits from forgotten realms.

(images from my personal copy)