Local Motion: ¡Mayday!, The Noumena, and Vultures Are Wolves
The Thinnest Line (Self-released)
This five-track EP is rife with sexy rhythm and blues, with elements of funky hip-hop and solid live instrumentation behind it. It gives an overall lounge feeling for the casual cool cat that dresses well and knows how to order a drink right. The collective is comprised by Plex, Wreckonize, BernBiz, Primo, LT Hopkins, and Gio, and though thuggy as they might sound, this disc has none of that. This can slide neatly between some Earth, Wind, and Fire and a nice showcase of good early-'90s hip-hop. Live they are pretty good, so check 'em out if you can.
I actually found this EP on the sidewalk by White Room, picking it up with the same gusto with which I pick up loose change and crumpled bills. Although there is a Finnish melodic death metal band with the same name, this is all local. And here we have a nice quarter-hour of creepy, semi-computerized beats and what may or may not be household instrumentation, a capella weirdness, awkward mumbling, detached vocals, and some industrial-style injections. Young Matthew Noumena bills himself alone as playing everything. The end result is disturbing ditties for depressed readers of poetry. This makes me think of E.M. Cioran and e.e. cummings.
Vultures Are Wolves (Self-released)
This eight-track disc of pure metal mayhem was a most welcome treat in my inbox. Not the usual arpeggio-laden, "I studied guitar for 15 years and I wanna get laid" crap here -- this is the real deal. Solid musicianship from this trio (Alejandro Tuesta on drums, Juan Blanco vocals and Jorge Ubieta on guitar and bass) sets the band apart. There are chunky moments, gritty breakdowns, and vocals that go from Satanic growls to animalistic screams that can also temper when the song dictates it. And they got a sense of humor too, like on "The River Took Dee Snider" and "Cancer Tale of the Hyena." That's just precious, baby. Think a little Converge, a little Cripple Bastards and Japan's Gauze. I look forward to more!
-- Abel Folgar