Migala

The Incredible Adventure is a pretty 'big' title for an album. Call an album something like that and surely you're setting yourself up for a fall, leaving yourself wide open to criticism, sticking the proverbial 'kick me' sticker on your own metaphorical back… Oh yes, this is the kind of title that blood-thirsty, angst riddled critics long for, it's a direct challenge to our collective ego, enticing us to ask the question, “Okay so what's so incredible about this one then…?”

Well, for starters, unless I'm missing something, Spain is not widely recognised as a prime breeding-ground for post-rock talent. So it's fairly incredible that one of the most refreshing albums of the genre should emerge from that very same country. Secondly, given the above, it's fairly incredible that this album/DVD combo has not gained more recognition. Thirdly, for once it actually does what it says on the packet: it is an incredible adventure, musically and visually – in fact, few albums that tread the now well worn boards of the post-rock stage have engaged me and challenged me as much as La Increible Aventura.

Each track on the album is both captivating and baffling. The opening sampled chanting of 'El Imperio del Mal', for example, gives way effortlessly to a particularly incongruous, 'post-surf-rock' guitar twang, a trait mirrored later in the album by the Tarantino-esque 'Tuscon, Game Over'. 'WWW' changes direction more times in five minutes than New Labour have in the past five years (and that's saying something!)… one moment all analogue synth and field recording, the next, haunting guitar lines, the next, an eruption of distortion.

The difficulty with the album (and this is the only difficulty) is the sheer breadth of the listening experience. With seemingly likeminded bands, for example, Godspeed You Black Emperor (goodness knows where the '!' goes nowadays), you can generally predict where a track is going - it normally involves them playing a riff, getting louder, getting angry, calming down etc etc… Migala's knack for confronting the listener with so many twists and turns, although interesting, can be a touch unsettling… Okay, so I realise this doesn't sound like a valid criticism, but listen to the album and you'll see what I mean – you'll want the placid bit of 'Tuscon, Game Over' to carry on for a few minutes more just because it's so darn lovely and then be weirdly frustrated when it doesn't… it's like liver and bacon – nice and nasty all at the same time.

Setting aside Migala's love for instrumental complexity, the two vocal tracks on the album are consistently beautiful (once you get paste vocalist Abel's heavily accented voice), especially the lilting, pseudo-orchestral 'Your Star – Strangled' which, falling stylistically somewhere between Sparklehorse and Willard Grant Conspiracy, forms an astonishingly exquisite centre-piece for the second disc (DVD).

Listening to the same album with visuals forces you to ask yourself whether the package would have the same attraction without the attraction of the short films. The band keenly promote the fact that the CD alone only represents half of the artifact, and consider the creative process for their music and films to be inseparable (at least in the context of this album). It is of course difficult not to see two distinct products sitting in the jewel case – but let's not get into the psychology of added extras, gimmicks and bonus discs. The DVD adds to the experience, contributing ten (at worst) intriguing and (at best) visually stunning short films.

In short Migala are pretty incredible and win the prize for producing the most honestly titled album of 2004. Do yourself a favour and get a copy.