We get a ton of music in our inboxes here at Remezcla HQ. And we try to give everything a listen, but sometimes due to the sheer number of submissions, it’s physically impossible. Every once in a while, though, something tickles our curiosity and we rush to hit play right away in order not to forget or lose the track in the ether.
Something like that happened when we got the Cúlmine release Intervención #1. For starters, this tape was sent to us from the end of the world. Literally, it comes from the farthest point south on this side of the planet: Patagonia. We normally don’t get much music from that side of the fence, so to speak, so when the self-proclaimed “first noise band” in the region sent us some of their material, we knew had to listen to what they had in store for us. We’re grateful they sent us this stuff.
As you might expect, Cúlmine practices music that is both a reaction and a reflection of their beautiful, yet isolated surroundings. In the letter accompanying their music, the duo (made up of members Aureliano Noisis Mendel and Matías Agustín Rivas) talk about the struggles of playing unpleasant music in a very conservative part of the continent, which explains why they’ve been around since 2001 but we’re just now hearing about them. It must be very hard to get a rock band going, let alone one that dares to do something a bit more radical. Thankfully, Aureliano and Matías have stuck to their guns.
Aureliano describes the band as noise, not because of their sound as much as their attitude towards their art. There’s a lot of textural soundscapes on Intervención #1, and there’s plenty of death rock influence in what they do. “Desain/Lugares” features some elegant goth guitar work to complement the almost spoken word vocals. The collection has an arty allure that invites you to listen to the lengthy tracks all the way through; they don’t feel like discrete songs as much as one piece that ebbs and flows. The slowcore rhythms and sparse arrangements make for a meat locker-grade ambience of darkness, but there’s a slow burning, melancholy vibe that make the tunes rise as they progress. All these elements keep you hooked for something exciting to come your way, and they mostly deliver, thanks in part to incorporating the work of poets Alejandra Pizarnik and Rubén Darío, as well as their sonic experimentations.
Everything here is beautifully crafted, from the package of the music to their presentation. They relish their lo-fi fixation and it helps their music glimmer in the shadows. Definitely more people should know about this duo’s work, cold and desolate like an iceberg yet loud enough to venture beyond than their antarctic environs.
