One of the more fun things about musicians in their twenties, probably, is that they have admirable disregard for the norms of music because, well, why would you.
This is listed as an album and is just north of twenty-five minutes long. But it is, of course, about what you can pack in, not how long you take. And I doubt most people making ‘albums’ that are ‘a proper length’ are also making music that is quite so ‘reggaeton, but also ketamine’.
Meth Math have been around a wee while now — a few EP / single bits that I hope have excited the Mexican weird-reggaeton world aflame. I’ve not managed to convince anyone to get excited by them, so I hope they have other pushers over here. The most important thing to know about them really is that they’re fucking brilliant.
I’m not sure if I spoke Spanish whether their lyrics would be any less inscrutable. Again, admirable disdain for norms — all the reverb, all the effects. They’re still vocals, and they’re still pop vocals, but they’re definitely opaque.
Maybe one of the odder things about Meth Math is that they never outstay their welcome — everything is nice and short. Everything is like some some hallucination of a Britney Spears album track (let’s say around the Blackout / Circus era, ie, the best era). What I mean really is that this is pop music that has the confidence to be weird, and weird music that isn’t afraid to elicit emotions like all the best pop does. But with a broader idea of timbre and arrangements.
There’s a nice range of tempos — mostly in the upper range but never silly. Closer “Pócima” is still a driving banger rather than a slow number, which is correct — closing with a slow number is for the weak and scrutable.
-Kev Nickells-
