No Me Coman

Sun-drenched popicalia meets Alpine peaks on ‘The Tide’, a kaleidoscopic psycho-optic revulsion at the state of things: anger at needless hunger, abhor all (il)legal wars, contempt at the blithe disregard for Mother Earth’s waning properties, perceptions of reality skewed and misconstrued. The message may bleak, albeit not yet hopeless.

Translated as ‘Don’t eat me’ Swiss–based Colombian>Argentinian>Catalan combo No Me Coman channel more than a spliff-whiff of Welsh wizards Super Furry Animals’ placid-fried ben-e-violent trip-traipsing (especially on ‘Down the rabbit hole’), creating a perfect blend of techno-illogical terror-torialism, rewired rock and roll tropes and ferocious freakbeating.

‘The Waves Are Back’ is a damning disaster diatribe allied to the pernicious populism creeping across the planet. As orchestrated fear ebbs and flows, and optimism quashed this is a siren’s warning of fascism’s dawning: ‘You’d better watch your mouth, son’ an ominous heed to curb free speech. But, wait … reinforcements are on the way.

‘Insurrection Army’ is a call to arms, a duty to shooty, an all-guns blazing standoff. A relentless glamshackle raid on the sense(less) string-pullers and Machiavellian manipulators that purport to ‘lead’ us yet simply bleed us dry. Resistance starts with persistence. Unfollow the leaders, unity is strength.

The thrash-up ‘Won’t forgive nor forget’ is a blitz-in outstrumental, all rave-throbbing pulse and haywired head-wrecking.What you give is what you get.

The Hawkwind-like motorik-rok ‘Down the Rabbit Hole’ is as labyrinthine and mazy as the title suggests. Feed your head, the best will follow. ‘Coche Bomba’ (Car bomb’) is an auto-destruction mechanical breakdown blow-up, an adrenaline-fuelled climax.

Like fellow-fuzz merchants Déjà Vega, No Me Coman drag you on a journey into sound, immerse you in spheres of all-ears, a bubble of noise rubble.

Anger is a synergy for these shamanic beat screechers. A seven-song strong sonic assault and battery on the hyper-sensory self.