This is a review of Conjuntos Cartográficos (2012) by Matilda Manzana, and the eighth review here on Track-By-Track. The title means (according to a rough electronic translation) Cartographic Sets, and I’ll use such electronic translations of titles throughout the review in parentheses.
This is going to be one of the weirdest albums you’ll ever listen to. It’s like eating food you never thought was palatable before, in a different country, only to realize that it’s actually much better than what everybody likes in your country. And this is a fine Mexican sonic dish, by Matilda Manzana (Oscar Rodríguez, who describes himself as a producer/disturbed manipulator of sounds, with some additional musicianship). When I first heard it, there were a few reactions: One of them was confusion; there really isn’t a broad genre that this album can fit into, let alone the hundreds of sub-genres I've heard of. Rodríguez coins the term "tropigaze" for some of his songs, though there are many styles on the album.
Think of it as an experiment between Radiohead, The Orb, and Danger Mouse, working with material co-written by Sonic Youth, Brian Eno, and some amazing flamenco groups who also provide samples of their songs to work with. And that’s not even close to describing the sound. It’s just the closest I can get. This is the first time I’ve ever listened to something that made me feel simultaneously uneasy, queasy, amazed, intrigued, and overall in wonder, in the most positive way those could congeal into an atmospheric and tantalizing jelly.
And that’s the reason I’m doing this review of an album that at the very least is an alternative release. There are some alt-rock sounds, of course, mostly masked by hyperactive and hyper-artistic beats and tones, but enough for me to consider it not a purely electronic release; the second-last song definitely has shoegaze elements, and most of the album displays some kinds of alt-rock influences. Well, let’s see if I can even barely describe the sounds I hear.
Here’s my TBT:
The album opens with “Ciencias Naturales” (“Natural Sciences”). Before going on, I must mention that I don’t understand much more than “si” in Spanish, so I can’t really talk about lyrics, especially in this one with loads of them. It starts off with strange synths, and a heavy yet lighthearted and clean beat. Strange whistling and hi-freq synths lead into the part with the vocals. Lead vocals are sung in an uneasy and emotive style, with extremely airy and sensual backing vocals. There are fast parts and slow parts, but really, it’s beyond recognition to say I know what at least half of this track is. Maybe some kind of Latin beat? The melodic elements play off of slight discord to create a really interesting atmosphere.
“Pez Espada” (“Swordfish”) has great nylon-string samples, and the lyrics seem to be a sentance repeated over and over. I feel transported into a Mayan world, even through kazoos and a clean hardcore-edm-style bass kick create even stranger sounds to be enveloped by. Vocals are very emotive, and it creates a kind of pleasantly-haunted-outdoors-nighttime environment. Really, listen to it to figure out what comes to your mind, and tell me.
“Té De Lluvia” (“Tea Rain”) (featuring Fonobisa), is the third track, and this is where even more confusion and wonder sets in. What sound like either guitar or ukelele loops are swirling in a near-Samba beat; vocals are nearly scared-sounding; and some amazing manipulation of sound makes the track a bit like The Boredoms. Reverb, major dissonance, and a sound that sticks in the brain like peanut-butter in the mouth. In a good way.
“Prismas” (“Prisms”) comes next, and it seems to be about thanking the cosmos. It’s very positive-sounding, and then comes the temporary break in style half-way through. Most of the time, there are raindrops of different tones and sounds, and perfectly equalized vocals, but when most of the sounds cut out, there’s a nice bongo and guitar moment that reminds you that you are, in fact, still listening to music and not just the coolest noise that drifts in and out of melody. Even the end of this track is almost an entirely different song, which is a good way of describing the album: A collection of songs within songs, each part of each one so different that it’s almost inconceivable that anyone was able to find any of them, let alone mix them together.
“Marula” ("Nipple") is the fifth track, and it’s a bit like second-generation console video-game music. That is, performed by Air and Sia. It’s instrumental, though so paradoxically complex yet simple in construction, that it gives a new value to instrumental tracks. This is called raising the bar for alternative artists to create instrumental tracks that stand on their own without lyrics.
The title track comes next, and be prepared for more beautiful dissonance. By this point, the album has transformed the senses into its own world, with soft shoegaze guitars low in the mix, frantic vocals, and a strong electronic beat, and syncopated and conflicting beats and sounds all competing in a chaotic and wonderful amalgamation of music. This is, I suppose, a kind of alternative rock, because there is some focus on guitar, but it, like everything else on Conjuntos Cartográficos, is unclassifiable, at least by me. Just keep your ears open for the pastiche of sounds at the end: I won’t explain it away.
“Aránda” (“Huckleberries”) (featuring Crocat), is a mainly electronic track. It’s a bit hip-hop, a bit downtempo, and a bit psychedelic. It has some dreamy vocals, covered in soft reverb, and some guitar on occasion. Loads of odd noises turned into beats, and some Rhodes organ sounds.
“Himnos Estudiantiles” (“Student Anthems”) (featuring Installed), starts off with a dark and pretty lo-fi sound, and then the mood is quickly interupped by what sounds like a party of music. Very Latin, with electronic and acoustic sounds. The end pleasantly surprised me, with its brief lo-fi folkiness.
“Debemos Despertar” (“We Must Awaken”), the ninth song, sounds like a love song. It’s so melodic after the rest of the album, and though the vocals go off-tune for the sake of capturing the emotion of the moment, it’s not a sacrifice in vain. It’s the calm after the storm, and the chorus is the icing on the cake. Guitar and bass are wonderfully warm, with soft glancing synths, and a nearly decimated drumbeat. Just the right levels on everything, and sometimes the vocals really get to me, even though I only think I understand a word of them -- “Gorgeous” being both what I think the word is, and an apt description of the song.
“Belmopán” (the capitol city of Belize) is a shoegaze song, like somewhere between Slowdive’s Souvlaki and Pygmalion albums. It doesn’t start out immediately, but vocals and guitar drenched in reverb take over soon enough, and give it an otherworldly sound like looking at multicoloured clouds being reflected in water. Songs like this are reasons music gourmets never have to do drugs. It feels a little long before the fast part, but when it speeds up, the sound is all-encompassing.
“Ciencias Paranormales” (“Paranormal Science”) has oceans of reverb and incredibly soft shoegaze-style guitars. This one has vocals that sound like they’re through a megaphone, in the beginning. It’s an alternate version of the first track (or perhaps a continuation), and sounds like a journey through the otherworldly; much like the whole album. It’s warm and atmospheric, with soft nylon-string guitars, some super-processed piano, and a slower pace as compared to most of Conjuntos Cartográficos. The end brings some electroacoustic noises to the table for a perfect ending, and even the last note is right in place.
Overall, Matilda Manzana has created a masterpiece; something that both defies explanation, and encourages it. After hearing Conjuntos Cartográficos, I’ll never look at music the same way again, and knowing that in some tracks even shoegaze can mix with Latin beats, it’s opened up a new world of exploration for alternative rock as well. You can stream and download the album (and more) in better-than-CD-quality for pay-what-you-want prices at: http://matildamanzana.bandcamp.com. Play it in the bath, at outdoor late-night candle-light ghost-parties, or when your face is off your skull, like the album cover.
