Intended to reflect the often turbulent and ever changing summers of Las Nubes’ Miami home base, Tormentas Malsanas translates to “unhealthy storms”. Through seismic displays of fuzzy dream pop and whirring shoegaze, bandmates Ale Campos and Emile Milgrim are able to convey this feeling of unrest in a way that is accessible to anyone, anywhere. The album’s grungy and distorted sonic influences root its story in both the past and present. It feels fresh, but also familiar somehow, in the way many summers tend to be a limbo of old and new, trapped between lingering memories and potential for more.

The ten track album takes listeners through several cycles of build up and chasing release. The album opener “Would Be“, gives us the first taste of the idea of warm, almost comfortable feelings opening up into something much heavier. Hypnotic waves of guitar paired with the soft choral repetition of the words “I know the more I give, the less I get back,” are suddenly spun into crunchy power chords and hard snare beats in a moment of whiplash. The words that began as musings have become a chant of dissatisfaction, of feeling stuck.

If the entirety of Tormentas Malsanas is a storm, then track four, the ten minute epic “Caricia”, is the eye of the hurricane. The song hums and buzzes in a moment of calm, but the feeling of unease remains. The familiar circling feels prominent in this track, even as the humming becomes a louder and angrier drone before cycling back to a hum once again. It’s clear the release hasn’t been found yet. It feels like a summer rain that doesn’t cut through the heat, it just makes it thicker and stickier. 

“The Weeks That Followed” puts a name to the idea of spiraling thoughts that seem to orbit this album. The notions of thoughts circling and reliving memories are what drive this song forward, along with the struggle to know when it’s time to move forward and embrace the possibility of change.

Tracks like “Canse” and “Drop In, Ya Freaks” feel less like a thought spiral and more like the unwinding of one, like a release has been found. Heavy and anthemic guitar fuzz along with steady rhythms guide us through the final moments of the album. These songs feel like they’d be best understood driving the backroads of your hometown with your windows down, letting all of the heat and anger wash away with the wind and rain. Where “Canse” is loud, boisterous, and full of kinetic energy, “Drop In, Ya Freaks” is reflective of the time gone by. It acknowledges that the storm has passed, and that even if more should arise, we’ve learned by now that they are impermanent.

In a summer that has already had it’s fair share of heat and storms, both literal and metaphorical, Tormentas Malsanas feels fit to be the soundtrack to a mind that’s very prone to spiral. The story it tells and energy it transmits feeds those tendencies to dwell in the heat, while also encouraging the listener to let go and move forward when the time is right.

The post Las Nubes’ “Tormentas Malsanas” and the Weight of Summer appeared first on KRUI Radio.

Starting off with “Last Winter”, the EP is turned to a melting pot of dingy, gloomy instrumentals, accompanied with pensive, somber vocals that promote sensations one would find in an abandoned building, teeming with moss and antiquated remorse. The song is uplifted by faded, brassy drumming, alongside the sweeping sounds of a swelled-up guitar. They soon close with the industrialist wails of what could easily be static deriving from a box television set, or undistinguished clanging emanating from a busy construction site.

With the additional support of Maisie MacDonald’s vocals on this track, the song is graceful with a pitted, brawny elegance. With lyrics like “Scent is the strongest form of memory,” and “Moving present thoughts aside, removing the past entirely,” we are subjected to one’s hyper self-awareness of passing time where change is most prominent. What the song’s meaning conveys is an utmost grasp for recollection and reminiscence, when harking back to one’s bygone past, whether forgotten or clearly remembered.

Following this track is “Irreverent”, which begins with marching band like drums, along with instrumentation fueled with suspense. The song then submerges itself into a party of distorted resonance, with occasional bellows, like a blaring pack of wolves making their expenditure toward the moon. Between certain partitions of the song, the instrumental is more minimal and subtle. It formulates a cryptic feeling toward quietude and hushed placidity.

The next track “Neto” starts with more energetic strains of noise, and weeping cries that seem to give the feeling of perpetual eternity. The foreground, which features a stony guitar, defines itself as persistently unnerving, as it perches toward a boosted, elevated grasp of existentialism.

Moving into the track “Slice” we are met with threadbare, keyed up shears of guitar, doused with tension and moth-eaten sorrow. Seasoned with this is deep-cut drumming and bass heavy with snarling contortion and fuzzed-out grit. Vocals imitate a chant of sorts, with singing led by enraged bile and crepuscular brooding that produces a splash of furor and tempestuous darkness.

Finally, as we make it to the final track “Model Kit” the mood undergoes a significant shift. The song presents itself as more balmy and halcyon, undisturbed by their usual din. Instead, it is riddled with ethereal texture that is paired with richly sentimental harmony. A song melodious with nostalgic rhythm. The tonal dynamic focuses more on reverb-inclined blending and roomy, gated springs of chamber delay, the song exits in such a way that makes one think of the momentary figments of time. It solidifies this Cycle 3‘s projected aura, which is a long voyage across a ghastly dire tunnel, with light found at the very end.

Details on the band’s upcoming tour can be found via their Instagram.

The post A Reflection of Careen’s “Cycle 3” appeared first on KRUI Radio.