Loss is a fucking killer. It ripples through you like nothing you’ve ever experienced. It taxes your mind and can lead to psychological torment you didn’t know you were capable of experiencing. It takes years sometimes to feel remotely like yourself again, but even then, there’s a void, and it’s unfillable.
Bay Area experimentalists Mamaleek are not like any other band out there, and as a result, they don’t present grief and the impact of loss in a conventional manner. Then again, what is normal when you’re mourning the loss of a former band member, an integral part of their sound? Their eighth record “Vida Blue,” named after the legendary pitcher who was a vital cog in the Oakland A’s World Series-winning teams in the 1970s, is a nine-track, nearly 53-minute portrait of the band contemplating loss in various forms from what it’s like to be without people, money, country, and other elements that make up their lives. Blue himself passed away in May of 2023, and the A’s announced they’re leaving their longtime home in Oakland to play in Las Vegas. These are matters that surely weighed on the band, and their music that resembles Tom Waits fronting the most fucked up noise rock and metal band you ever heard is their place to work through the torment and pain.
“Tegucigalpa” starts with guitars looping and gravelly growls, the playing feeling busy and strange, the guitars chugging and spiraling. The playing is a total mind fuck, flutes swirling in air, the atmosphere feeling artful and wrenching to the end. “Vileness Slim” brings jazzy bass and speak singing, the aura going breezy though you know something unsettling bubbles underneath. Guitars pluck as moves are made in the dark, and then the leads blaze, choral chants making you grasp for the wall. Whistling pierces before the howls rip, weird chanting zapping out. The title track starts with horns clawing, gurgling vocals warbling, “Man of steel.” The whole thing brings on a fitting summer heat, trippy melodies coursing, Muppet-like cries eating at your muscles. Strings melt into tributaries, plodding as the wails of, “Vida Blue!” snaking like a baseball crowd frothing at the mouth, guitars warping and generating humidity. “Ancient Souls, No Longer Sorrowful” has strains of Middle Eastern music, stomps, and gruff growls, guitars turning into a volatile storm cloud, synth squealing and piercing skin. The whole thing turns disorienting, your brain frying as the singing spreads, and strange keys drip like a codeine syrup. “Momentary Laughter Concealed From My Eyes” is a weird interlude, feeling dreamlike with numbing chorals, slipping into a haze that mimics your deepest slumber visions.
“Black Pudding Served at the Horn of the Altar” opens with group singing, the pace thudding as the playing slurs, nasty wails following up behind all of this. The tension seems to taunt, do-wop glazing making your head spin, and then things get wonderfully detached from reality, blurring out into your nightmares. “Hatful of Rain” slips into woodwinds, the sounds entering into a bizarre new realm, harsh wails pounding on you, the punches digging into already bruised muscles. Sounds curdle as the vocals turn more sinister and vicious, and then a modicum of calm arrives, blending into bass slicks that grease your path. “Legion of Bottom Deck Dealers” is the longest cut, running 10:13 and immediately stepping into a psychedelic void, the singing soothing as the playing further warps minds. There’s a push into the cosmos, growls emerging and working through hypnotic beams, hulking into acoustics and buzzing voices, noise echoing as the bass chunks. The atmosphere turns more calming, but the vocals don’t let you off the hook, spitting nails as a jazzy ambiance slowly fades. Closer “Hidden Exit on a Greyhound” feels like the band took a trip back to the mid-’70s, soulful power pushing, guitars taking on a sunburnt gaze. Voices warble as the heat peaks, sounds blazing and stinging, the final strains heading deep into cold, unforgiving outer space.
The power and presence of loss can take someone to the ground, and the way Mamaleek processed and regurgitated that pain leads to some strange pathways on “Vida Blue.” This is a record that can make you feel insane, and strangely enough, loss can have that same effect on someone’s mind and body. This isn’t music that’s easy to decipher or digest, and that’s fitting because the experience of losing someone or something can be just as disruptive. These songs perhaps can make you realize not feeling right is all a part of the experience that you must endure, and that’s actually quite normal.
For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100063715500356
To buy the album, go here: https://nowflensing.com/collections/front-page-pre-orders
For more on the label, go here: https://nowflensing.com/
Meat Mead Metal 