[SET-UP]
The commercial kept
playing on the television screen. In between shows starring Japanese
characters with gravity defying hair and a brave cat's coexisting
despite a literal, attachment to a dog this band keeps on playing.
Continues to entice. Exaggerates the sense of teasing I feel
throughout my being. How I would pitch the idea to my parents remains
ever elusive in these spontaneous 30 second bursts of curiosity
This
October 31st
will mark the 10th
anniversary of my first attendance to a rock concert. The title of
the show was “Heavy Metal Halloween.” The headlining band was
Anthrax. As you can understand, I was a hesitant thirteen year old
with limited mobility unready to break the news of my desired plans
to the birth givers. Luckily friend of my dad's also experienced a
metal phase earlier in life. Safety and learning guaranteed.
Despite this being
he first major metal concert on the island of Puerto Rico – the
latter age Metallica production earlier in the decade was canceled
due to unscheduled rain and an outdoor venue – the importance of
this show was strictly my own. Sure the clouds teased a repeat
episode, but the tension was lost on me. The moshpit existing at a
distance entirely separate from my own; but these were biological
concerns more than logical ones. Instead, the entirety of the
spectacle was curiously observed. The seemingly random Joey Ramone
look-alike. The lesson from above that the lanky unassuming guy is
always more dangerous than a hefty opponent in the realm of slam
dancing. And of course the unspeakable terror of not just groupies,
but groupie wanna be's.
While not alcohol
was consumed, three important scenes occurred during the opening acts
for Scott Ian's goatee and its troubadours of death. One, my
chaperone's disdain for the lack of cover songs. Two, the fact than
one of the local openers – considering that this tour had no
traveling warm-up groups – had a guitarist donning a green kimono.
Three, the fact that the Spanish language is seemingly not suited for
the genre of heavy metal music
As opposed to say
English or German, Spanish is not, shall we say, known for its angry
qualities so much as its magic abilities in the sphere of panty
removal. Alas, certain elements within this floating 100 mi. x 35 mi.
ocean loft choose to express themselves with the crushing and
uninviting wails of abused cymbals. One of those bands played that
night and was called Tavú. Despite their entry in the category of
“Spanish language metal” they managed to grab my middle school
attention span for long enough to purchase a CD; not to mention their
LP conveniently was released the same year of the show: 2003.
[REVIEW]
The record was
listened to once prior to the writing of this review.
The interesting
thing about the band Tavú aside from creative spelling is their
nimble ability avoid falling into either the category of imitation
metal band or local derivative. When it comes to “foreign” (not
folk) style music in the Commonwealth (not a state or country) of
Puerto Rico, skepticism is always best exercised in the outfit's
ability to recreate versus interpret. Think reggaeton versus a local
indie garage rock band. Tavú falls in between: a situation where
they have clearly enjoyed a long love affair with the American
variety of Heavy Metal music but have managed to add enough spin to
make it sound original. At the same time, avoided with the careful
steps of a cat on a skyscraper, the shy away from the edge of
idolatry; which is where the second point comes in. Considering that
the island's only significant metal export throughout the 114 year
American presence is the mighty, mighty Puya, it would be
understandable to...copy, for lack of a better word. Tavú takes a
hint, but does not exploit it. This is a band that stops short of
pious follower on both ends thriving in the middle.
Appropriate, then,
is the band's noticeable fetish for vocal contrast. A following
through with the metalcore aesthetic of melody by varying high
pitched “clean/raspy” vocals with low-pitched “growling”
vocals is evident; but then again, so is a love-hate relationship
with the idea of another cliché in the breakdown. The songs are not
to the extent of brostep builds and drops, but the foreshadowing is
opaquely present. Beyond a doubt, however, credit must be given to
the vocal of Marcos Reyes; only occasionally enlisting the backing
duties of drummer David McCloskey
While on the
discussion of hardcore versus metal, the LP's 9 songs are divided
lyrically along political and personal lines. Alternatively, four
songs touch on social matters and 5 songs touch on introspective
matters. While the sado-masochistic relationship with genre staples
make this band unique, the manner in which they express their anger
is what pushes them towards another realm. The political themes are
mostly from corrupt government, the influence of religion on society,
and the status of Puerto Rico. The lyrics at times tend to verge on
the straw-man end of logical arguments, but the benefit of the doubt
is given to those creating the tunes.
On the other hand,
there are aspects of the music that surely stand out. The clear star
of the session is bassist Omar Piña. Granted the man's instrument is
a passport holding citizen of the land of rhythm, the use of his four
string beast as a melodic tool stands out. The majority of the jazzy
tinges found in”No Es De Este Mundo,” “Misogenetica,” and
“Recogiendo Impulsos,” are due to the bassist's creativity. As a
matter of fact, the utmost reason to have more than average faith in
this quartet is Tavú's inconsistent but welcome willingness to
experiment.
Take the fifth song
“Pensamientos Paranóicos,”(available for streaming at the blog's SoundCloud here) for example. White other songs may
play around with electronics so far as vocal reverberation goes, and
the guitarist Joen Blanca even goes as far as incorporating
psychedelic guitar pedals into his repertoire. Number five is all
about the ambient nature. The space. The restraint and subtlety not
exhibited elsewhere. The song is slowly built up, but more up a hill
than mountain. The kick is underwhelming and to a certain extent
infatuatingly gloomy. The lyrics tell the tale of a paranoia patient
(never done before) from both the point of view of the suffer-er and
the disease The heavier parts are associated with that causing the
pain and the more reserved for a narrator who is ultimately
transforming into his tormentor. Very noteworthy,
Otherwise, this is
an album full of pride. That music...those songs that come from so
far away made by people from somewhere else? It can be made here too.
It is not emulation by any stretch of the imagination. Two singles
grace the disc, both of which would have comfortable residences on
hard rock radio rotations. The line to politicians “you are loyal
to shit” is a definite highlight, and the drumming cannot be
overlooked. Often times the source for “island” feel, the
percussionist at no point feels the need to overuse his double bass
capabilities.
Noteworthy:
probably not. Memorable, for individual reasons only. The ceiling was
somewhat higher than this recording, begging the question of what
possibly could have resulted.
Jonathan Cohen is a
recovering college radio DJ,discover-er of Jimmy Hoffa Tourettes, and
once lauded expert on shrubbery. You can follow him on Twitter
through the handle @BoggleUrNoggle
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