Festival Nrmal, Part 1: El Evangelio

Picture by Pierre Lestruhaut

by PIERRE LESTRUHAUT

I. PURPOSE

It’s no mystery that this site has repeatedly stated its own admiration for Festival NRMAL and the kind of line-ups that they’ve put together over the past three years. I’ll point out the obvious: the curation is so good that it just makes other festivals on the continent look like overpriced crowd-getters where smaller acts have to play in front of a crowd who’s just waiting to see a big band that’s playing in the city for the first time in 10 or 20 years. And I mean what kind of crowd-getters does this festival have anyway? Ariel Pink and Sky Ferreira for people who only read Pitchfork? Brujería for old-timer metalheads? And ignoring Todd P‘s American-centric vindication of the festival, this is a solid forward-thinking platform that showcases plenty of emerging Latin acts. But then I think about my own self-centeredness and realize perhaps I’m only validating an event because it aligns itself with most of my own musical taste. And then I wonder, if I might be traveling too much just for something that could be another excuse for twentysomethings to get wasted... 


II. FAITH

Finally reunited with half of the rest of the Fonograma crew that was coming into Monterrey (Enrique Coyotzi and Souad Martin-Saoudi), the festival started for us at Sergio’s for the Vale Vergas Discos Showcase. Selma Oxor put on a show inclining toward electronic abrasion and disruptive sexiness, though I still have a bit of trouble getting around her whole electroclash aesthetic. It was Soledad that really fucking owned the night, though. Before the show, I hadn’t heard more than a couple songs that I thought were pretty decent, but on Wednesday they were a sharply different band from the one I remembered: pretty much the kind that reminds you how much a guitar, a freakin tom-tom drum, and a whole lot of talent are enough to make a show that’s both intimate and wild. Back at the hotel, Coyotzi and I talked about how wrong we both were to have completely slept on their previous EP Fe. Now that I had the chance to give it a few more listens, I kinda already miss the band that played at Sergio’s.


III. DOUBT

Someone else will probably have a more elaborated reflection on the Chilena Banda Showcase that took place at Gómez on Friday and that featured Fakuta, Gepe, MKRNI and Alex Anwandter. I’ll just go ahead and point out that having these amazing musicians from the other end of the continent playing at an acute-angled corner in an outdoor venue was seriously one of the most unreasonable things I’ve seen in my own sparse experiences with live music. I mean, sure, seeing Gepe and Anwandter was something close to a fucking dream come true, but, come on you guys, these dudes deserve an actual stage where they can actually do their thing, not that claustrophobic attempt at a stage that they ended up playing at.


IV. DEVOTION

On to the actual festival on Saturday, after CF favorites Ave Negra, Capullo, and Matilda Manzana pulled out good (though very short sets) in front of small crowds in the early hours, Escenarios Rojo y Azul had a pretty good series of erection-inducing guitar acts for which my own expectations were high. Tijuana’s San Pedro El Cortez were the kind of act that lights up any crowd with just a few chords and a good dose of strident on-stage energy. Sure, they also thrive on own goofy on-stage antics, which just adds the kind of positive carelessness that makes for good visceral live rock. And, seriously, this was stuff that fluctuated between raucous and psychoactive, hysterical and resolute. In short, this shit spoke to me on many levels.

After that, Chilean psych-rock band The Holydrug Couple were pretty much the kind of mid-tempo dreamy rock band you’d expect them to be (which, fine, their record is quite good but I prefer falling asleep to them on my headphones and not at a festival venue). Then Protistas had to face the challenge of playing after Brooklyn act Parquet Courts (who pretty much pulled the best set of the afternoon) and deal with the bass-heavy sound at Escenario Rojo. Even though they were a bit short on the vivacity that has characterized so much their own recordings (maybe because you just couldn’t hear their guitars and Álvaro Solar’s singing that much), the rockist in my heart went on to accept the fact that well-rehearsed rock is mostly about hearing the songs you love, and I was reminded of how much I really fucking love Protistas. And how much I still fucking love guitars in general.


V. SOUL

Contrary to popular belief, in the evening, the magic was happening over at the Panamérika stage (or at least I’d like to think). I chose not to believe the Sky Ferreira hype and stood around for the entirety of White Ninja's loin-awakening series of mid-tempo sonic, soul-wrenching grooves. Since their set was made almost entirely out of Sounds Like Cocoon Fever hits (which, awesome!) I’ll be lazy and just steal a few lines from Carlos Reyes’ awesome review of it to describe what the show was like: “With sweaty grooves dripping into slow-burning acid, White Ninja’s flirtations with wavelength allocate the act as part of the exciting group of artists pulsating rhythm into faded synth-pop memories.” Still, hearing it live, this was some seriously penetrating stuff. The kind that magically reconciles the struggle between ethereal electronica and heartfelt soul.


VI. CLIMAX / DEATH

Almost every person I have talked to that has been to a Mueran Humanos show has told me of how an absolute must see it is, which is why I was surprised that Enrique Coyotzi was the only one of the Fonograma crew next to me when the show started. Although it’ll sound like a terrible cliché, the show the Argentine duo living in Berlin put on for us was the sort of climactic event the festival needed. And what will sound like an even more terrible cliché is how much words are lacking to describe the emotions elicited by their show. There’s a French idiom that refers to the orgasm as “la petite mort” (the little death), and listening Mueran Humanos play live with such a collision of energy, anger, pleasure, and sexuality, was conflicting on so many levels simply because of how their music so overwhelmingly depicts both pleasure and pain. I don’t really like singing along, but for some reason I found myself disturbingly shouting “Tu madre dice que eres basura” in front of Tomás Nochteff, and then immediately after that I was almost gushing because of how discordantly beautiful their music is.


VII. FAMILY

The most unanimously loved act around CF headquarters, María y José, saw the whole Fonograma male contingent at NRMAL reunited under the tent at Panamérica stage to see his performance. That being said, expectations were high as fuck. And Tony delivered. As he lit up a fire under that tent and induced his crowd into the biggest collective dance I experienced during the fest, we saw every facet of Tony’s artistic persona right in front of your eyes: the unknown kid from Tijuana singing over laptop beats, the internet-era enfant terrible as he dissed Ariel Pink, the eccentric self-worshiping artist, the refined music fan he became with his Tony Gallardo II persona, the elegant songwriter and crooner with his slower songs, and obviously the party starter that he’s always been. As I enjoyed seeing Tony unfolding every angle of his music that I love, and as I danced with the rest of the Fonograma crew and a few other friends, I could swear that, for a moment, Carlos Reyes was dancing with us too.


VIII. HELL

Out of mostly morbid curiosity Enrique, Adrian and I quite wrongfully left the Panamérika stage where Nguzunguzu were soothingly growing their set into a true muscle-challenging dance and decided to go across the border from Latino Hipster Land into the ghoulish darkness of Latino Metal Land over at Escenario Negro to catch Brujería. The huge blanket on top of the stage that read “TODOS SOMOS PRESOS” was probably a motto that a 16-year-old social reject that gets into metal for rebellious reasons might have found interesting, which quite curiously fits the profile of the people I would think are into a band like Brujería. I’ll go ahead and admit that I really don’t know shit about metal, to the point I just had to go into Wikipedia to figure out which subgenre Brujería fits into (Death metal?), so if I piss off any metal fans just know that my criteria here isn’t to be trusted any more than that of the kids who bought a ticket to the festival just to catch Sky Ferreira. That said, even accepting my own ignorance on the subject, it’s hard for me to really see the band as being musically or artistically interesting in any way. It seems to me Brujería isn’t much more than a politically thoughtless, culturally equivocated band that’s trying too hard to still be subversive some 15 years from when it actually stopped being, if it ever was.

IX. VINDICATION

Half an hour after Adrian politely declined our invitation to continue to see Brujería after he had heard about 30 seconds of it, Enrique and I proceeded to leave Escenario Negro as well. And as fatigue defeated our own thirst to hear more music, the fusing echo of Juan Brujo’s own riotous fantasy, Javier Estrada’s all-referencing global bass, and Daniel Maloso’s cold disco were the last sounds that I heard at Festival NRMAL. By then my own thirst to hear good music played live had probably been satiated for at least another year, and I could finally leave Monterrey having fulfilled my selfish need for cultural consumption.

Protistas - Las Cruces

Las Cruces, Protistas
Cazador, Chile
Rating: 84
by Pierre Lestruhaut

It’s 2012, and what has there been to be genuinely excited about in Latin American indie rock these past couple of years, outside of Bam Bam’s ambitious venture into interstellar psychedelia, and–at the diametrically opposed corner of indie–Piyama Party’s absorption of pop culture consumerism into sluggish indieist desolation? My experience writing and listening to Latin indie rock records for over a year can be summarized in the unvarying initial reaction I have about most records. It goes something like: “not bad, maybe something around 72, could drop a small Pavement reference somewhere.” Which is why this new Protistas record, for someone who grew up on indie rock, is part of those that strike the kind of pleasure that can only be found deep in someone’s own formative experiences: a band shaping the instant familiarity of their sound from understated guitar complexity, arpeggiated grandeur, and into the mere extent of their own performers’ aura.

It should take about 15 seconds into first track “Rosetta” for most folks with a deep love of '90s indie rock to get seriously hooked into Las Cruces, as the accessibility of their own nostalgia starts to be revealed as the framework of their interweaving guitars and romantic lyricism. Yet it’s the inner-war mayhem treatment Protistas give to most of their songs (and that has distinguished them from most indie rock acts in South America) that reveals itself as the connecting force and recurring theme between songs. As if the band, following in the steps that made Nortinas War such a solid debut, was made solely for militant anthems such as “Granada," moving for how visceral they are and admirable for how unpredictable their series of peaks can turn out to be.

“Comiendo hostias” and “Tatuaje conmemorativo” bring down the intensity from the loud verse, louder chorus motion of the first tracks, as the latter finally hints at the origin of the album’s title. Setting the scene at Chilean seaside locale Las Cruces, the song is a captivating number of slow-paced melodies and charming guitar licks. Where Real Estate would use such cycling and gentle guitar work as a background for suburban mundanity and slackerism, Protistas aim to paint half-erased memories of a distant place/lover (“Nos tatuamos en el antebrazo medio corazón, pero la sal lo borró”). For the rest of the album, topics hang in between storytelling about uncommon characters (“Supertroll,” “Huesos de cristal,” “Mysterious Skin”) and themes of mind/body liberation and imprisonment (“Enfermo y atrapado,” “Granada”).

The low end here might be a little too vapid, and the vocals are neither ear-catching nor delivery-striking, but that’s because they are only aware of those two guitars, keenly submitting themselves to their dictions and always setting them as the song’s foreground. Even in the least sumptuous tracks like “Napas subterráneas,” the guitars’ aforementioned understated complexity is diffused by the lush production and balanced into an effortless fluctuation that sways around Álvaro Solar's previously militant now heart-wrenching vocals, Solar occasionally peaking at the right moment and duly retreating.

Protistas have often been described, either by themselves or fellow critics, as a brave, wild-sounding, and militant rock band. I’ve obviously never had the chance to see them playing live, but I can imagine, given their songs’ proclivity towards showmanship and thoroughly arranged catharsis (via an inclination for Cobain riffs, a self-declared intention to aim for Arcade Fire-esque grandeur, and a Juan Son-like passionate delivery) that it’s the ideal stage for experiencing the great series of songs that these guys have piling up since their 2010 debut. Word is that their recording sessions with Astro’s own Andrés Nusser were intended to capture the boisterousness of their rollicking live shows.

It sure as hell looks nice on a press release, though I was never one to think that an album’s background story or recording details should, in any way, influence (too much) a listener’s opinion on the finished product. Yet in an era where music software allows more than ever for a myriad of possibilities of sonic exploration, to think that this beautiful collection of songs, this delightfully touching music–religious in its grandiosity, uncompromising in its restraint–can be performed by humans with nothing but actual rock instruments is simply at the crux of its own poignancy. That it isn’t particularly innovative, thought-provoking, or cool (qualities which can be found elsewhere among our high-rated albums) shouldn’t undermine just how much simple indie rock can be so overwhelming.

♫♫♫ "Granada" | Stream Album | Facebook

Video: Protistas - "Granada"

In their latest video, “Granada,” Protistas reaffirms their status as the continent’s most militant rock band. Their 2010 debut, Nortinas War, had the infrastructure of an inner-war mayhem and, judging from this first single, the Chilean band is looking to expand the belligerent imagery to broader ground. “Granada” is ballistic – provoking in its themes and restrained in its emotions. Shot in a silvery black, directors Matias Rojas Valencia and band vocalist Alvaro Solar framed a fable of conflict and journey. The clip and the song approach tragedy with the same wounding romanticism that made “Incendio en mi Corazon” such an anthem a few seasons ago. “Granada” is the first single off Protistas’ forthcoming sophomore album, Las Cruces (Sello Cazador), produced by Astro’s Andres Nusser. The single, along with another track from the album, can be downloaded through the band’s website.

Protistas - Nortinas War

Nortinas War, Protistas
Cazador, Chile
Rating: 80 ★★★★
By Carlos Reyes

We can officially add Chilean band Protistas to the incredibly short list of memorable Latin rock debuts this year (shortlist: Philipina Bitch, Elaine, Los Romanticos de Zacatecas). The band has been generating buzz around our circuit of sources for over a year, ever since “Videocamara” became a relative underground hit that up-fronted the emerge of a superb rock band. Their (official) debut album Nortinas War is finally here, and it’s arrestingly beautiful. With one foot on a shadowed hallway of Nirvana’s Bleach, and the other on a bright empty house in Santiago, Protistas’ sound is both, fundamental and cacophonic (on its most positive definition), humid and overwhelmingly mellow.

Although straightforward and painfully human, Nortinas War is hardly meant for mass-consumption. Like many of today’s -revived- old-fashion aesthetics, they are a band that yearns for flannel shirts as a way to step back into bare essentials. Title track “Nortinas War” ventures on an indie-folk arena, keeping vocals out of the landscape for most the entire song, building echoes and bricks of redemptive chasm, so when the vocals do arrive, they’re tender dreamy whispers and the broken pieces of an inner-war mayhem. The melodic textures throughout the album are the perfect mediation of this well attempted (and well scored) biological infliction on the kingdom Protista (three months of upper-division Bio finally found a purpose).

The most introspective quality is the album’s anxious and muscle-flexed militant attributes. These traits are noticeable right away, and they don’t need a raw production design or lo-fi scope to visualize a war zone; like Danis Tanovic or Arcade Fire, the band delivers glossy pieces on courage and abandonment, without falling for sentimental sharp edges. “Incendio En Mi Corazon” tells the story of a man’s burning heartland, it reads a letter from a scarred soldier to his brother: he is in war, he's left with a single eye and no legs, devouring himself as time passes, and complaining the whores at such place aren’t very good either. The rawness in the story-telling is well contained most often than not, allowing for easy access to even its most obscure pieces.

Brick by brick and confronting, Protistas’ harmonious scope might sound a bit overproduced for its frequencies, but still refreshing considering we’re living on an age where ‘Latin Rock’ is disconnected to any kind of skeleton and is in serious need of a reset button. The album’s best track “Princesa del Tarapaca” starts with a stripped-down psychedelic passage, goes through a dazzling loop of self-discovery and picks up the album’s overall mystified motif on ‘flames’ chasing a princess. The song also blends some Chilean folk into the mix, yet it sounds trouble-free, until it reveals its pain in a very Grizzly Bear sonic augmentation “fuerzas que estan muy dentro de mi y no quieren salir… mi corazon.” A great official start for a band that finds beauty in the most painful scenarios, tears, blood and a hell of consuming flames celebrating simplicity.

♫♫♫ "Princesa del Tarapaca"

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MP3: Protistas - "Mi Pieza" (Moustache! Remix)

We’re not a bit contained to call Protistas one of our new favorite bands, as they get everything ready for the release of their upcoming EP, we found ourselves carving around for more and discovering some sides of their multidimensional package. For example, this hot remix by fellow Chilean duo Moustache! for their awesome single “Mi Pieza.” The remix itself isn’t the true great discovery here, is finding out Protistas' potential to breakthrough as a major band internationally. Listening to this is like getting Phoenix, Bam Bam and Grizzly Bear on the same plate, stunning. The track is part of a single release the band had back in November, as one would expect, it did extremely well at The Hype Machine (191) from our idols over at Super45.

♫♫♫ "Mi Pieza" (Moustache! Remix)
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Video: Protistas - "Nortinas War"

We have been dying to give some love to one of our new favorite bands, Chile’s Protistas. Their music is ‘fit’ on apparel, very attached to those moments of youth when one is anxious (with fear and joy) to grow up. Yes, they remind me of Gus Van Sant, who happens to be one of our favorite filmmakers and the director of the overlooked, best film of the '00s Paranoid Park. Protistas has just about everything to breakthrough as one of the year’s discoveries, although they’ve generated buzz since last year. “Nortina’s War” is the first cup from an upcoming EP they will be releasing under Cazador, home of Los Mil Jinetes and Fother Muckers. You can currently grab their awesome song “Videocamara” on our latest compilation.