Showing posts with label mama vynilia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mama vynilia. Show all posts

Piñata - "Llampec"


Ever since Barcelona 5-piece Piñata had a couple of tracks featured in the last editions of our Fonogramáticos series last year, we’ve been eager to see if they could translate their ability at crafting boisterous tropical punk anthems beyond the 3-minute mark. According to their Bandcamp page, the wait could be over as soon as early 2013, when Piñata will be dropping their double EP Amics/Enemics on Hao! Discos and Mama Vinylia. As a teaser from that forthcoming release, they’ve given us new track “Llampec” (Catalan for lightning if I trust my sources), another rollicking number that exceeds every other they have released, at least in terms of shouting, tempo shifting, and catchiness. No longer using the layers of lo-fi, feedback, and distortion as a hideaway for their knack at creating great melodies, “Llampec” sees Piñata take their game up a notch in terms of cleanness, despite the fact we can already envision ourselves singing many of their future tracks next to our favorite shirtless bearded, beer-drinking friends.

MP3: Esponja - "Fucking Pony"


Mama Vynilia Records started the year on a high note with that impressive Telephone Rouges vs. Piñata 7’’ split, which encouraged us to dig through some of its obscure-yet-stirring catalogue. The tiny Barcelona-based print released Esponja’s HyperVigil late last year (late enough to be dragged into this year) and, although a quick spin revealed it’s an album that’s too thematically all over the place for its own good, it did, however, reach melodious grandiosity at least once in the instrumentally soaring and emotionally towering “Fucking Pony.” Believers of the post-Loveless order of society (compensating music and vocals at the same frequency/distortion) and classmates of nimble hazy rockers Odio París and Lorelle Meets the Obsolete, this Barcelona trio made a flawless, oddly-titled track that skips all the shoegazing souvenirs to inroad to firmament proportions. Great artwork also.



Telephones Rouges vs. Piñata - Max Split

Max Split, Telephones Rouges vs. Piñata
Mama Vynila Records, Spain

Rating: 75

by Carlos Reyes


As pop music writers, we should strike for broadcast vigilance. That is, to involve oneself beyond what’s presented. For better or for worst, those of us putting it in practice have become more seduced by structures, print commissions, and formats than by the actual songs that comprise unorthodox releases. And that’s okay. Sometimes songs are only suggestive paradigms of a larger cause. Shared artistic references carry a need for deeper assessment, especially when printed on something as amorous as a split vinyl.

Following the recent wax smackdowns of Kana Kapila vs. Los Claveles and Manos de Topo vs. Tarantula, two of Spain’s hottest emerging bands have co-signed on a split album that should rise above and beyond its novelty significance. Cacophonous divers Telephones Rouges and tropical punkers Piñata have come together not for the sole reason of splitting the costs of an album, but to share guardianship of a tiny scene, a label (Mama Vynila Records), and a band-to-band bromance. Through the premise of this release one could presuppose these are two bands hailing from the same tree, but it’s this same medium that allows both groups to grasp for identity and biosphere bonding.

Within a couple of spins of Max Split it’s easy to understand the success of this relationship. On one side, we have a band that strikes to be cerebral, even if swimming under nocturnal depth. On the other, there is a band that points to propulsion at any cause. Telephones Rouges is aptly smoky in the industrial punk opener “Gute Krankenheit” and then makes smart use of space by flipping the coin in the seemingly mournful, yet all-colorful “Ei Meu.” Piñata’s side (produced by Telephones Rouges’ Matias Unruh) is equally striving, sounding more teen-spirited than usual in a proper recording of rising hit “Tambourine” and the incredibly catchy “Cadillac.” In a weird way, Max Split is the venerated progression from a split gig to a split album. Beyond its well-crafted, catchy songs, this is a vinyl that breathes brotherhood and potential.