Shop - Escupemetralla – Materia Exótica del Universo 1988 – 1995

Descripción

Materia Exótica del Universo brings together remastered reissues of the first four albums from the long-running band Escupemetralla.

· Sublimado Corrosivo (1988)

This is where the delirium hatched: recorded entirely in a dimensionless void between two calendar years, inside a defrocked kitchen in Sant Adrià de Besòs (Barcelona), the city sprawl that inspired William Gibson. Instruments? A portable television channeling square waves from the underworld through and Underwood typewriter, and a five-speed fan repurposed as a rotary prophet.

· Burros de DIos / Asses of God (1990)

Asses of God is a holy middle finger hurled at musical logic and the spiritual BDSM of Catholic self-mortification —with audio cilices applied directly to the corners of the listener’s mouth. In other words: a black mass performed in a postmodern catacomb lit by faulty altar LEDs. Released by Escupemetralla during the twilight of the analog age, this cassette plugs directly into the Catholic olfactory bulb, inducing visions of priests as depraved celebrities, childhood as a 38-year verdict, and sainthood as a grotesque layer of makeup smeared on with a spatula and crowned with concertina-wrapped brass scepters.

· Vida y Color (1991)

In this forgotten gem from 1991, Escupemetralla dive face-first into strange new territories without ever letting go of the dusty folklore of their Spanish childhood —the kind condensed in collectible sticker albums like «Vida y color», where nature was a cartoon, and learning smelled like glue. But here, nature wears second-hand drum machines, sings through busted keyboards, and burps out sub-vocal transmissions that swing between the gastric, the social, the mystical, and the deeply, deliciously absurd.

· Multimierda (1995)

While the world was getting high on “multimedia artists” and their supercool spectacles with funding from the Ministry of Trendiness, Escupemetralla were busy drowning in their own filth —ignored by music scenes, ejected from the postmodern orbit, and happily fermenting in the compost bin of forgotten subcultures.