MOURA

Moura's self-titled debut album was my album of the year for 2020. It was an exceptional release which blended dark psychedelia, progressive song structures, and the folk music of Galicia (the bit of Spain that dangles over Portugal; not to be confused with Eastern European Galicia). Two years later, the band has returned with another outing that blends those aforementioned influences, as well as some new inclusions.

Axexan, espreitan (Eng. Lurking, Peeking) is a strong successor to Moura while also having its own unique character. The songs are terser on this album; both records are roughly the same length, but this has twice as many individual tracks as their debut. The folk influences are prominent, and that helps Moura stand out in the current progressive rock landscape.

The album starts with a low, wobbling synth drone that slowly builds. "Alborada do alén" ("Dawn from Beyond") is a swirling, atmospheric piece full of keys that throb and glide, setting an otherworldly mood. Emerging from this haze of sequenced synths are some slowly-enunciated vocals and earthy guitar in the opening moments of "Romance de Andrés d'Orois" ("Romance by Andrés d'Orois"). Squealing string instruments add some lovely texture as the song sets off into a folk-tinged march. This subdued track bears certain parallels with Jethro Tull, feeling like an Iberian counterpart to certain songs off Heavy Horses. An insistent theme builds during the final 90 seconds, eventually developing a ritualistic feel.

"Pelerinaxes" ("Pilgrimages") flows directly out of the preceding track. It has tinkling acoustic guitar and keys as brass instruments swirl in a way which evokes Robert Wyatt's Rock Bottom. The rhythm to this song moves along steadily, with a laid-back confidence. A few ideas are meditated upon over the course of this instrumental. The intensity gradually builds until a fuzzy guitar solo takes center stage, followed by some ever-so-slightly-overdriven strings.

A motorik drumbeat sets a steady pace for "Baile do dentón" ("Tooth Dance" or "Dance of the Teeth"). Guitar, keys, and strings float around the harmonized vocals, making for a hypnotic atmosphere. For a song about psychedelic ergot (a type of grain mold best known for causing "St. Vitus' dance"), this is an excellent mood to cultivate. As with other songs on Axexan, espreitan, this song has a wonderful arc which masterfully ups the ante over its runtime.

Eerie effects and loud thuds punctuate the opening of "Alalá do Abellón" (no translation given). This song leans heavily into some of Moura's spookier, more occultic leanings. Galicia prides itself on its Celtic past, and there is a strongly druidic quality to the chanting here. This song is downright ritualistic.

"Cantar do liño" ("Singing Linen") has a much lighter feel to it. Breezy guitar and jazzy drumming make for a floating, calm aura. This is further enhanced by Mellotron flutes and strong backing vocals.

After that brief little interlude, "Encontro cunha moura fiadeira en Dormeá" ("I Met a Moorish Guarantor in Dormeá") leans into jazz quite strongly. The mood remains light, and some Traffic-like bluesiness crops up here. This song takes a little while to get going, but its second half is strong and engaging, with some awesome, fuzzed-out jamming which strongly recalls early King Crimson.

The album closes with "Lúa vermella" ("Red Moon"), its longest song. The song opens with unassuming nylon guitar. The first couple minutes are simply a folk song, but it acts as an effective scene-setter. After five minutes of slow-moving tension, the song bursts into an oppressive, nasty, sludgy riff. The vocal performance is especially strong as the song trudges forward. Combined with the unique keyboard tones on display, the final minutes of this song feel like Pink Floyd c. 1969 playing sludge metal.

Moura's sophomore album is another powerful, unique release from this band. The way they manage to interweave Galician folk music with psychedelic and progressive rock is truly impressive. They evoke many of the giants of the genre, but always in vague allusions; there is no mimicry here. I've given this album a few spins now, and I've enjoyed it more on each successive listen, so there is a ton to uncover and love.

Review originally posted here: theeliteextremophile.com/2022/06/06/album-review-moura-axexan-espreitan/

Near the end of last year, I reviewed the debut album of the band Híbrido. In that review, I praised the label Spinda Records for giving underground prog and psych in Spain a platform. Not long after I published that review, someone from the label reached out and told me to keep my eyes on Moura, a band from Galicia.

Moura's self-titled debut record is a tour de force of psychedelic progressive rock. This quintet blends the dark psychedelia of Pink Floyd (c. 1968-1970), the compositional and instrumental complexity of acts like Yes and Van der Graaf Generator, and the native, Celtic folk of their native Galicia. This confluence is then draped in a druidic, occult atmosphere that in turn creates a menacing aura. (Galicia is a region in northwestern Spain which historically was populated by Celtic peoples and today retains significant Celtic influence in the local culture, particularly the music.)

That Celtic influence is immediately noticeable in the opening moments of "Eira". A hand-drum pounds out a simple rhythm over a bagpipe-like drone. The acoustic guitar and chanting, wordless vocals give the feeling of some sort of black magic ritual. The song's main riff then enters, a King Crimson-y, herky-jerky wall of fuzzed-out guitar and Hammond organ. As the verse gets going, vocalist Diego Veiga's lines are drenched in reverb, and the twisting guitar lines launch this song into outer space.

"Da Interzona a Annexia" opens with a bang. The song is fully electric, but local influences are evident in both the guitar and organ parts. This song's backbone flows more smoothly than that of "Eira", and the mood is less portentous. Many parts of this song remind me of a slower, more minor-key Mezquita, as the extended instrumental sections draw heavily from Spanish music.

"O curioso caso de Mademoiselle X" is the longest song on the album, at nearly fourteen minutes. (As opposed to the paltry nine-minute runtimes of each of the first two songs.) This song opens gently, with acoustic guitars and light percussion. It gradually builds, though, with swelling organ, lurking fuzz guitar in the background, and insistent drums. It then shifts into a lumbering, lurching, doom metal-inspired riff, with heavily wah-wahed guitar squirming over the top. The verse shifts back to the acoustic theme seamlessly. The chorus is huge and ominous, and the restrained pace of the song only serves to amplify its intensity. This is a song where the bass, fuzzed out to the extreme, comes to the fore at moments, and the sheer power of it packs one hell of a wallop. Around the nine-minute mark, the song calms down a bit; squeaky synthesizers and a distant-sounding harmonica give the impression of floating through space, a sensation which is only reinforced by the skittering drums and quiet, echoing clean guitar.

Moura closes with my favorite song on the album, "Ronda das Mafarricas". A relatively terse seven minutes, it opens with a murky organ and more reverb-laden vocals, driving home the piece's occultic atmosphere. The opening 90 seconds feel like an invocation to open some sort of ritual. The rhythm is infectious once it gets moving, and the vocal and organ lines weave Celtic melodies with sinister, fuzzy psychedelia into an engrossing mélange. The soloing is inspired, bringing in jazz touches amid the other influences.

The four songs on Moura are all brilliant. Though it's been out for only less than a week, this is already a potential runaway for my album the year, and I'd rank it on par with many of the prog classics of yore. Do not let yourself sleep on this record!

Review originally posted here: theeliteextremophile.com/2020/04/06/album-review-moura-moura/

Here we have an eclectic entity from Spain that is showcasing a formidable appeal. Rather unique, that's for sure. Yeah, true, still possible! The band's core is comprised of six musicians. They are from A Coruña, constituted around lead singer and main guitarist Diego Veiga. The goal is to blend ancient roots and a modern twist, hereby always looking for some proper support. Especially concerning their preference on the Galician mythology, the rituals and associated specific instruments. The album cover illustration says it all. While starting with the debut effort in 2020 this comes as their sophomore album, thematically divided in two partitions entitled 'Axexan' and 'Espreitan'. Eight tracks are offered, it takes time, the great spirit reveals with every further listening session.

Modern synth drones are ready to start the magical mystery tour on Alborada Do Alén, though vocals come in soon, just as the vintage counterpart, then leading into a folk tinged psychedelic drift, let's say akin to Crippled Black Phoenix. Actually it's not easy to keep track, to find the right words for a proper reasonable description. Volatile, the sheer diversity makes it difficult. Native instruments are used everywhere around, similar to the band Ilienses hailing from Sardinia. Anyway, things are merged together to a well thought out cocktail. They are jumping from southern rock to folk rituals and heavy treats with ease. Baile Do Dentón for example is hypnotically driving in the vein of the early Krautrock school featuring references to Can, Neu!. The doomy Alalá Do Abellón then comes close to an approach also known from bands like Heilung or Master Musicians Of Bukkake. You implicitly have to listen to this production in one go. And take care of the compelling cross-fades regarding the particular tracks.