GALÁPAGOS

Too short, really too short, it lasts less than 35 minutes!... but a very good album is "Desierto Avant Garde", Galápagos' third release. This band stands out as one of the most important new bands devoted to the recapitulation of old-fashioned psychedelic heavy rock. Having started their days as a power-trio, the addition of a permanent keyboard to the augmented line-up really helped the now quartet to expand on the artsy side of their own rock sound: one might argue that Galápagos should have taken advantage of the sonic framework and go for longer developments of at least most of the tracks in this album's repertoire, and I actually would agree 100% with them; but, all in all, the fact remains that this album is appealing and interesting. The opener 'Antenas y Charcos' sounds like a Sabbath-ish version of Pescado Rabioso and Invisible (two essential references of 70s Argentinean hard rock), 'Y Los Días Por Llegar' goes to a more Purple-meets-Uriah territory without letting go of the Pescado/Invisible standard, 'Después De La Guerra' brings the prevalent heaviness through a more constrained rhythmic structure in order to provide a more reflective feel. These first three tracks set a clear indication to the listener about the musical essence to be developed dominantly all the way towards the end. In this way, we can notice that the title track remains on the constrained realm installed by the preceding track and enriches it with a jazzier treatment of the rhythm section, which in turn helps to emphasize a certain grayish aura in the basic compositional idea: the result is a particular exercise on psychedelic rock, something that the guys of Big Elf might have been proud of, for instance. 'En Línea Recta' and 'Qué Se Puede Hacer' find the band delivering a sweeter side, with the former bringing a serene mood and the latter surpassing the former in terms of emotional languidness: up to this point, there has not been one single track that couldn't have been expanded some more time so the thematic development in each of them could generate some exceptionally impressive impact on the listener. What we have here is a catalogue of very good songs that could and should have been longer. 'Nada Que Ver' brings back the Pescado Rabioso thing to the fore, not unlike the firs ttwo songs. 'Practicando Tiro Al Ego' is the longest track in the album: reasonably introspective, quite solid concerning the psychedelic standard, very similar to "Meddle"-era Pink Floyd during its expanded interlude that eventually turns into a 3 minute closure. The album's final song, 'Se Está Cayendo El Cielo', states an acoustic guitar-based closing statement a-la Neil Young, so the whole experience motivates a meditative attitude as some sort of farewell. This nice end culminates the good qualities of this album, which (I reiterate) could have exploited its artsy potential more thoroughly: good psychedelic rock from South America for the new millennium thanks to Galápagos.