Out from the mini-tornado of tinny space noise – spiralling upward, folding inward – comes a drumbeat full of that ‘tight-jeans’ sass that Billie Jean made its name on, attempting to diffuse the improvisational argument through the unquestionable discipline of disco. Neither rhythm nor anarchy back down. A smooth bass motif dances by itself, while flailing guitar solos and incoherent distortion get tangled up in themselves. As Vértigo Magnético progresses it becomes a familiar narrative: 4/4 drums trying to hold cacophonous freak-outs together, only to further fuel the fires of frenzy by pumping energy into the picture. I’m reluctant to call it funky, but would my head be bopping so insistently if it wasn’t?
Sometimes, a melody manages to poke through. On “Amanecer”, a four-chord descent provides a rare moment of harmonic parallel – the notes fizz together like planes in formation, before an unfortunate nudge on a delay pedal brings the “do whatever you want” sentiment back with shrill gusto. It’s a total party record, and recalls that sensation of trying to hold intelligible conversation through a brain swimming with rum; the attempt to remain sensible and civil is precarious and tense, and it’s never long before maniacal dancing feels like a more succinct means of getting the point across (or doing away with the point completely). For those that like their noise pumped into grubby basement shows, via a haphazard chain of second-hand guitar FX.