They are superb actors, as a listener you are sucked into their world completely, there’s no looking for approval either, and with El Circulo / La Langosta we get another stunning display of bravura.
Yet again Mueran Humanos can do no wrong in our book; and another single, this time on Vanity Case, sucks us further into their intriguing world. It could be very easy to categorise their music as Gothy, or doomy, or dark electro or some other modern algorithm beloved of people who feel crushed by time... but although you can see traces of what those words can mean in the music, the band seem to float outside of any preconceived time, space or other consideration. For me, they do something that is timeless and the key to all great acts: they are adept at setting up a strong sound on a simple and believable premise. Their tough, confident, clear-eyed approach also frees them up to do what the duo do best, which is letting their feelings and imaginative powers take the centre stage. They are superb actors, as a listener you are sucked into their world completely, there’s no looking for approval either, and with El Circulo / La Langosta we get another stunning display of bravura.
El Circulo is a determined stomp, whipped on by a double vocal, a veritable galley ship sailing through a sonic murk, with Tomas and Carmen adopting the role of the slave drivers. The sounds compressed low down in a swampy, gloopy mix, the whole thing sounds like some old floppy disc single, muffled and wobbly. Good as this may be, better is to come.
You know, I’ll say this for modern technology; it may have been the Trojan horse that set up the destruction of the old music industry, but if you want to make a B side that lasts 20 minutes, with no evidence of compromise then you can. It’s easy, bung it up on Bandcamp or similar. Mueran Humanos have done this in what must be one of their more remarkable tracks: La Langosta is a sort of stretched, spaced-out meditative lament that wouldn’t be out of place on some of the more remarkable Krautrock records. It’s got the spirit of one of the jams coming from the Bern / Cosmic Jokers scene: some of the synth wibbles sort of sound like that Harmonia live 1974 LP at times too. Round 14 minutes the track seems to pick up a sort of strut, feeling like some musty old Velvet Underground bootleg, and the sort of recording you used to find on a crumbly, mouldy old tape. Everything gets elegiac by the end; the synth hum swells and blossoms out into a rich harmonic. It’s a superb listen and shows the virtue of patience as clearly as any parable. Stick it out, that’s an order.
This band makes astonishingly powerful and beautiful music.