Coyotes
Coyotes EP

These days, things happen that are nothing short of incredible.

Without making too much fuss (and believe me, there's plenty of fuss to be made), I believe that the most entertaining yet ridiculous thing is the progressive commercialization of subgenres that up until three years ago appeared to outsiders as steaming refuse. Uninterpretable uselessness!

But those same people, once they threw away the records or mp3s that are no longer in step with the pace these moments of shameful human history dictate, have now dramatically chosen to devote themselves to genres like stoner, doom, sludge, and drone, provoking in my pointless person a hilarity and perplexity that often lead me to wonder if I myself might be the product of the same process of cultural fortification that the Western world has silently positioned in such a dark and ambiguous niche of my (and your) brain.

Events like the Roadburn, created in Tilburg in 1995, until five or maybe six years ago, would attract the interest of only a few but still conscious hermits. Now, they appear to be little more than moments akin to the Sunday openings of shopping centers in the Po Valley.

I then find myself compelled to say something I've kept in reserve for too long, at the risk of sounding pathetic or moralizing, and not that I pretend to save a world already condemned by itself...

The magic word is only one: it's over!

In South America, while thousands of shabby Euro-American bands attempt to insert themselves into outrageous and cinematic media-advertising courses, devastating doom, stoner, and any other genre currently having enormous market appeal, something genuinely incredible is happening.

This, in my opinion, extraordinary thing, is due to the fact that these people are demonstrating that little by little, without clothing and/or production excesses, the important thing to capture the ear is knowing how to do just one thing: play. And play well!

Coyotes are a worthy, perhaps too humble, but always dignified representation of this. Originally from Córdoba (Argentina), with only two tracks produced in March of this year, the trio shows that 1000 plays for Iris (first track), and Atlantica (second track) are, in my view, numbers not proportional to the extraordinary instrumental care with which after centuries, stoner returns to what it has always been: desert music, certainly accompanied by the use of naturally doping and expansive substances, but equally relaxing and far from the blinding stages of the phantasmagoric North American-European continent.

Clear, defined melodic lines, rough and warm like the Andean wind, remove any doubt about the purpose of the self-titled EP (Coyotes EP, 2013): making a more than adequate figure concerning the representation of a genre that people on our continent are beginning to listen to (and unfortunately, also play) who, in my opinion, are light-years away from such distinctive and, in a sense, pure musical habitats.

The unique thing is the singing in Spanish, demonstrating that while English is undoubtedly phonetically musical and applicable to any sound structure, it's certainly not the compositional monorail that must necessarily be resorted to in order to attract the attention of the first passing porno-groupie: Spanish fits well (perhaps not as much as its potential in the case of this band) into a genre like stoner, showing that there is even a need to look to the other side of the world to finally find a 'healthy,' spontaneous, and true scene, real and throbbing, like the heart of a child ready to speak its mind after a decade of silence.

In this socially and economically failing portion of the world, OURS, where everything finds daily insolence and abominations as the only response to the degenerate (non-)freedom of expression, in a distant continent forgotten by the power of money and commerce, someone (and not so few people, believe me) is shaping a South American scene where alternatives to metal seem to be very well-packaged and worth listening to.

My words will probably be interpreted as a sterile radical-chic polemic of shit.

To all the people who will consider this option valid, I reply by cooling every ardor in this way.

Because someone, every now and then, has to say certain things..

..what the hell..