The New LoFi

Ten Years

Montevideo Monday´s (III)

In a planet more and more defined by mobility and globalisation, which is the point of labeling some music with the name of a city? How many artists can still be defined only by the city where they live? Is it possible to find or establish an urban pattern that is connected to one single place?

Maybe all of these questions can be answered by a simple (and obvious) “no”. But when the music is the answer, the idea tends to be more evident. That´s what happens with the music of Molina y Los Cósmicos, a band based near the not-so-much-internationally-marketed-yet-very-popular Rocha, a department known by its wonderful beaches and calm climate.

But Nicolás Molina, the project´s alma mater, is an obvious product of the flights and the experiences abroad. As many uruguayans, Molina lived in Spain for a while. But that´s just part of the equation: his sort of pop folk with warm and sunny arrangements travels to the United States then goes back to Río de la Plata, and from there maybe it travels to Spain and Brazil with a hint of Rock from a few Argentino big names. All those influences are subtle… blended in a record that never gets out of its own pace. And of course, has some sparks of genuine Montevidean vibe.

photo: Guido Moreira R

El desencanto (The disenchantment) is a personal record in two ways: the particular voice of Molina and the motivations behind the lyrics, which are bound (mostly) to emotional breakups. At this point I must say that speaking about this particular subject, some songs reminded me of Sean Lennon´s Friendly fire, in my opinion the ultimate breakup record. That record shares with El desencanto the bitter taste of disillusionment but they finish in very different places. Proof of that is Landing park, a song crafted by Gus Seyffert -bass player of the Black Keys- that Molina takes to his ground and also features in the record.

Here’s the thing: this first record of Molina y Los Cósmicos sounds more familiar to the concept of sublimate, a concept that in spanish means to do something good with some bad experience, to somehow transform it, in this case, into art. From this point of view El desencanto arrives at a nicer conclusion and has the feel-good atmosphere and instrumentation of a friendly, enjoyable indie record. Take a ride, it’s free, but you may also pay or donate in order to see this project grow.