(Andy Synn has fallen in love with Santacreu‘s recently-released debut album, and hopes you will too)
While we’re still in a slightly odd place here at NCS, what with Islander still being held hostage (by his day job), I’d say that DGR and I have managed to keep the lights on and the content flowing pretty well so far.
And while he’s got his eyes and ears attuned to a few albums coming out next week, I’m looking the other way and highlighting a few albums we missed last week that I think deserve your attention.
Case in point, Cançons d’Amor, Dol i Enyorança is the debut album from cinematic Spanish Post-Metal collective Santacreu, and quite possibly (nay, probably) the first (or, at least, one of the first) albums we’ve ever reviewed sung (and I do mean sung) entirely in Catalan.
It’s a moving, multi-faceted and frequently mesmerising piece of work, from start to finish, and one which should find a lot of favour amongst the more atmospherically and/or melodically inclined of our readers.
With a title which translates to “Songs of Love, Sorrow and Longing”, you could probably guess that Cançons d’Amor… is an album which wears its emotions out on its sleeve.
And, from the moment that the slow-burn intro of “L’Absència” crests the horizon, all the way through to the final fading notes of colossal closer “L’Ascensió”, it’s painfully, poignantly, clear that Santacreu have put their entire heart and soul into this record.
Across the length and breadth of the album’s six strikingly melodic, scintillatingly atmospheric, songs (collectively clocking in at just over forty-five minutes of music) it’s clear that Santacreu have taken up the baton of latter-day Isis and made it their own, combining ruggedly rhythmic riffs and gorgeously melancholy melodies with the stunningly emotive vocals of singer/guitarist Eugeni Pulido, whose expressive, yearning voice is one of the record’s major highlights.
But while it’s tempting to ascribe the album’s success to Pulido’s captivating performance, Cançons d’Amor… is clearly a group effort, rather than just a solo showcase, and the contributions of the trio’s other two members (Kandro Ruiz on bass, and Guillem Bosch on drums) shouldn’t be overlooked either.
More than anything, however, it’s the strong songwriting and cinematic sense of storytelling which makes this album such a fantastic first statement from a band with all the tools to make a real name for themselves, allowing each and every track – from the doomy swell of “La Llum” and the moody ambience and frantic intensity of “Les Cicatrius” to the sombre, hypnotic strains of “Nana del Caballo Grande” – to both stand alongside, yet apart from, the others.
It’s an incredibly impressive debut, make no mistake about it – and I haven’t even mentioned how fantastic the sublimely catchy, stunningly cathartic “La Sequera” is, which at times recalls the very best of long-time NCS favourites Dvne in its extraordinary ability to weave an entire sonic world around the listener – and one which, if there’s any justice left in the world, will get the band’s name onto a lot more lips as the year progresses.