CUENTOS DEL SUBSUELO

Can you think of anything worse than facing deafness due to a dangerous disease in the middle of a music career? Because it's certainly a shocking note in the biography of Argentinean band Redd, and this thing happened before the original trio formed and pedaled onwards to a straight and decent debut (Tristes Noticias del Imperio). Also related to this, the word "replaced" seems too harsh for defining the change in the ensemble, one that was ultimately necessary. Alas, this was what happened: Óscar Imhoff became the new vocalist, while Redd became a quintet, following the reply given to the invitation by Marco Pusineri and Juan P. Raffo. The loss of Juan Escalante can be weighted, especially when hearing his mesmerizing voice over on Matinée or Nocturno En Enero from the debut, but the new voice isn't bad at all; meanwhile, Redd's essence gets carried out forwards by the other two original musicians, Luis Albornoz and Esteban Cerioni.

That being said, Cuentos del Subsuelo is Redd's second and last album, released closely after the first one, preserving the style and native passion, staying a progressive deep manifest even if admitting a bit more stretch into warm mainstream, and even coming with better songs, ideas and ways of a full, intense expression than over on Tristes Noticias del Imperio. It's quite the superior Redd creation, leading to a more than enjoyable expression and substantial words which to spill in favor of it. To me personally, digging up more so to find out which of the two albums was more successful to the ears of Argentinean fans (across, Redd are credited, for decent reasons, pretty unitary), because liking Cuentos del Subsuelo, even though its art is more hidden inside its rock, would sound ideal.

Nothing's radically changed in Redd's way of building a consistent LP, at least apparently. Maturity comes in the elegance, depth or particular spark of the music, while in exterior, five pieces are enough to juice up what Cuentos del Subsuelo is all about. On Tristes Noticias del Imperio we also had five pieces, but the soft-short/eclectic-long contrast between the pieces was much too un-clever. Here, the contrast is quite gorgeous, absorbed almost exclusively in style.

Perhaps the one piece who's humour and weird expression can give away a moment that lacks profoundness and is of a tad weak production is the middle one, Los Entretenimientos de Medianoche del Profesor Frankestein, having a concept that alters the tune theatrically and dissonantly; instead, we can hear Crimson influences, even from the beginning, the vocals imitating afterwards the same catchphrase, even if the manner could have been better. Still, not to slip past the first two pieces of the album. Como la Esmeralda is the concrete example in which Redd find a more mainstream color, adding it to the paste of symph/at-rock, yet the form of a breezy song is intact. Icarus Father is a moment of sensibility, sadness and choral nuance, asking for this kind of a trance when listening. Eery, mystic, it can also be impressive. El Asesino Sentimental, long and beautiful sounding, is on the other hand not one of Redd's special pieces. Instead, when you hear the vocals on Blue Fingers, you realize it's smashing and it's there to stay in your head. It's quite Redd's representative, charming, intense long song, adding to the breathtaking par-melancholic voice several brushes of instrumentality, up to what's Redd's both popular and progressive inspired chanson.

Three live tracks are included, but we're probably talking bonuses available on ulterior versions. Reyes en Guerra has a heavy edge and more instrumental spark, but it's overall underwhelming. Instead, Matinée is interpreted with more jazzy pulp than on the dry (secco) studio version, with livelier vocals and an emotional flow. In the end, a live performance of Blue Fingers is also fine, with a vocal climax that's unbelievable.

Overall, by far Redd's best, with art rock, symph and easy melodic pop being just at the surface of a maturely embodied tale.

Incidentally, Redd are now alive again, even if they look like having joined the wave of old rockers that make a stand after an immense freeze, and while Tristes Noticias del Imperio is already re-released in an anniversary package, we could have faith in actually hearing more "Redd music".

If not, they've anyway made their mark, as among the last of the Tucumán classic Mohicans, and this album here is so important in showing who they were and what they did, plus sounds so good, it's very easy to recommend.