Coyoli bids us farewell with the lovelorn “La Corona”

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Late last year, Oscar Coyoli‘s eponymous band ceased to exist. After two EPs and a few selected appearances that ranged from Festival Marvin to some of the finest museums in Mexico City, the project was retired from circulation. For those who had been paying attention, it was the news of a story ending way sooner than expected. Surely greater emotions were ahead for the listeners.

It’s not like we’re talking about a garage band that never got to record anything, their genius lost on angry neighbors unable to hear their TV sets. Coyoli was adopted by Juan Manuel Torreblanca and Andrés Landón, the same team that yielded the Grammy-winning Déjenme Llorar by Carla Morrison (Carla herself appears on the last untitled track of the band’s second EP, Bemot, doing some uncharacteristic experimental vocal takes); and also recorded a song, El Manto, for Converse Rubber Tracks. Still, it seems too brief an existence.

Coyoli’s music was rooted in the eyes of everyone sensitive enough to be moved to tears by a work of art, be it a painting, a poem or a song. The songs were of deep beauty played with tragic abandon; it was a brand of pop that could be dark and heavy but didn’t need to venture into the territories of actual goth or metal to achieve the same impact. The music seemed difficult and easy to listen to at the same time, doing without conventional structures, overly catchy choruses or instantly relatable lyrics, yet making an instant connection that bridged turn of the century French ballads, Latin American folk and modern drone music. It’s music of profound bliss and loss. Live they were so much more intense than on record.

And now they are ready to move on. Members of the band are continuing their parallel projects and starting new ones, and something tells me Oscar himself won’t refrain from making more music in the future (what kind of music remains to be seen). As a nod to those who were listening and others who will soon, Coyoli have released La Corona, a collection of demos and rough tracks of what was to become their next EP. This is a crude outlining of what was to be a portrait of lovely sentiments. In a way, it’s fitting that the most melodic and heartfelt material Coyoli has released ended up skipping the studio to show some warts and scars of heartbreak. After all, love can be brutal in its beauty.