I’m not going to bury the lead here, I love this album, and I think it’s one of the best I’ve ever heard. I’m also not going to lie, I didn’t want to write this review.
Comadre’s self-titled is one of those releases that I felt belonged to me. I discovered it and I enjoyed it without the pretense of writing a single word. I figured a collection of songs this good would spread like wildfire and I wouldn’t need to say a word, that it’d be so over-discussed that anything I would’ve written would have been one of many superfluous over-excited reviews. But, apparently that’s not the case. It’s release has come and gone for several months and few words have been said, and I guess I can’t let that be. So, for at least one afternoon, I’m going to put aside my writerly laziness and pony up to the ol’ keyboard and explain why Comadre’s self-titled is an early contender for album of the year.
Comadre’s sound on this release is an extension and progression on their previous albums, but all the same they are rooted in hardcore, screamo, and punk rock. This time around they’ve effectively modified their sound with more melodic and diverse instrumentation, made all the more thrilling when coupled with vocalist Juan Gabe’s throat-shredding screams. The result is something like a Kid Dynamite/Fucked Up hybrid.
“Color Blind” opens the album with drums and distorted chords that hang in the air, all punctuated with a post-punk keyboard. It’s a great rager of a song, and the way it uses melody makes it interestingly accessible for such a screamo influenced band. “Cold Rain” features one of the coolest bass lines I’ve ever heard, but just as soon as you think the song can’t rock any harder, the guitars come in and Comadre introduces you to their genius.
“Drag Blood” is a dark, spaghetti western influenced song with a haunting refrain of “the devil owes me.” Comadre use two vocalists for the refrain, one screaming and another deeply intoning it as a whisper. It’s otherworldly. It’s one of those few tracks that can inspire the raising of neck hair and and quickened pulse. “Drag Blood” reaches fever pitch when it’s Morricone-esque trumpet takes center stage near the end of the song, a stark juxtaposition to Juan Gabe’s rhythmically cadenced screams.
Comadre’s self-titled is an unfortunately underlooked gem of a release. Good enough that I can’t let it be my best kept secret anymore. Comadre’s self-titled is available on bandcamp for a measly $5. Go now, buy it.
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