This Is Our Home Please Come In!, Volumina

THIS IS OUR HOME PLEASE COME IN!
VOLUMINA

Peppermill Records, Mexico
Rating: 78
By Carlos Reyes

“You keep seeking while I hide in darkness”, Volumina rolls around to this theme with much glibness, and it’s got enough bells and vitality to make its way into both psychedelic electronica and children’s music. In this sense, I’m not far out in saying their first EP This Is Our Home, Please Come In sounds like Sizu Yantra’s Bienvenido al Sueno, or even the paternal solo projects of los Aterciopelados Andrea Echeverri and Hector Buitrago. I don’t know if the mind behind this project is a parent, but even if an actual experience was not to be its impulsive force, the imprinted sensibility in these eight pieces go beyond a measure of cuteness, these are daring moments of expectancy that never really cease to sound indifferent in order to disclosure what they really want you to hear. It only takes a few seconds of the introductory passage of “Twist” to notice their ability to embrace transitions; the song goes from cute fairies, to a moment of suspension in silence, and ends on a disconcerting lapse in which a monster awakes and wants to play. Volumina definitely belongs to the sound coming out of their native Guadalajara, specifically the subtle pop of Suave as Hell, Carrie, and Hey Chica! They all sing in English, and are not very creative at it, now in terms of musicality, Volumina is a triumph. While it struggles to fully dispose its mind-set in songs like “Love” or “Old Family Photo Album”, the musical accompaniment helps to keep things simple enough that the easy lyricism fades into a precise conduct. “The rock & roll space band” it’s a marvelous piece, rarely has Mexican pop explored the space inviting us along. And in a way, Volumina does give its album a truthful title; these songs are insightful and in conjunction, build up an open invitation to their home, it might not be the most distinctive and magical house to find yourself in, but it’s an honest tale that will at the very least, remote you to that lure of unoccupied space that still holds some innocence within you.