There’s plenty to be said for listening to music in a foreign language — especially a language you have little or no understanding of. If an artist can successfully connect with a listener (or vice versa) without uttering a single word that makes any sense, then something is quite definitely right; they’ve effectively managed to use music to break down the communication barrier, and hit on those emotions and feelings that transcend cultures and borders. And while any live version of Jacques Brel singing “Ne Me Quitte Pas” will make an infinitely rock-hard case for it, it’s not just about the mushy stuff. Sometimes it’s just the wonder of a new culture and its sounds (I’m pretty sure one of the main reasons I feel in love with – and still love – Norwegian band Kaizers Orchestra is because I’d never heard “oil-drum rock” before). This can make you feel like a bit of a tourist, like some English holidaymaker utterly fascinated by a man playing an accordion on the streets of some Italian town; but you have to consider that the reason people find stuff like marimbas or tabla drums so fascinating is because they aren’t a staple in Western music culture, and consequently they aren’t hoarded by the sounds of them every day. Play me a Euro-synth pop song, and I’ll smile, and likely consider it a novelty, but present me with some Bulgarian folk music, and I’ll sit and listen intently. It’s not musical snobbery, or anything to do with taste, but just the way my listening habits were drummed into me when growing up in a musically unadventurous household. I was used to pop music, and it was my main source of musical entertainment, so anything else (i.e. any other genre, really) was an opportunity to wander off the path I’d walked on for so long.
I like to think I’ve matured, though; it’s a great and strange joy to sing along in an embarrassingly syllablistic manner to a boisterous French pop song, when you have absolutely no idea what’s been said. In the end, it’s about realizing that those rumblings of appreciation for a song that resonates with you in some special way can come from anywhere, but also – and perhaps more importantly — just enjoying the music you listen to, with no regard to its origin. All this might seem a bit excessive to introduce a three song EP from Mexican band Real Durango, but to make my case, it seems necessary to make sure the point of finding music you like can come from wherever is driven home.
Take ten minute “La Luz Del Sol” which builds it’s backbone on a repeating piano line that constantly feels full of potential, no matter how many times it loops through the song’s runtime. From there drums come into play (which, like the bass, keep varying the rhythm from the moment they come into the picture), as a guitar groans and shrieks in a high tone, setting the stage for the vocalist. Soon there band are blazing through, creating a crescendo thousands of other band could hope to achieve, as it manages to feel grand, but never excessively epic. In its final two minutes it sounds like a roaring sea set against a blistering sun, much like the cover art depicts.
As much I like to feel like I’m enjoying “La Luz Del Sol” for its own individual strength and effect, I can’t help but feel I am using my reference points to make it out to be what it is. In the ten minute opus there’s echoes of stadium bands like Coldplay, and perhaps even Muse in some respects, but thankfully, with this track, these references seem much more like springboards which the band create their own thrills. “Por Siempre” is probably the track here that is heaviest with comparisons, but considering it’s to Icelandic band Sigur Rós, that’s no bad thing. When the band bring in a marching band, it echoes the jauntier moments from Takk…, but come the next chorus they’ve turned the track into something that might be best described as a “carnival waltz”. It’s really lovely stuff. “Dos Ríos Y Un Mar”, on the other hand, captures a sort of seedy L.A. lounge feel, making for a juxtaposing listen between the two surrounding tracks.
Quite simply, I really like Maresysoles, as not only does it intrigue me with every spin, as it leaves me guessing what the lyrical content might be about, but I also just really enjoying listening to it. “La Luz Del Sol” is rallying, if not inspiring, and with every listen it feels like it’s burrowing into my head, and opening up my senses at the same time. “Dos Ríos Y Un Mar” is the only weak link, really, but it’s not bad. The band wade around in the watery, late night atmosphere comfortably, but compared to the other two tracks, it can feel that bit lacklustre. That a minor quibble, though, as it doesn’t stop me revisiting the EP. Real Durango have music here that make me want to cross borders, to widen my horizons more, and embrace a new language. The language of music, however, is universal, and they are speaking and playing it eloquently here.
