I came across this track through a friend of mine while I briefly ran shows at the old art warehouse we call mcWorld. The Brazilian band once known as Bango instantly comes off as a born to mediocrity classic rock knockoff on their 1970 self-titled release (it would be there only record). Something unexpectedly bizarre happens on the 2nd track. There is a stranger in the room that claims to have been invited by Bango to join the rest of the tracks, though no one in the band seems to recognize or know much about him or it.
The opening verse starts like many common psych jams, as the vocal line floats mysteriously the feeling is familiar and even paced. A clumsy but somehow very slickly drawn guitar brings in one of those chord changes that shake up dusty reveries of nights that never actually took place. Stumbling throughout your beach home happily drunk on the 4th you realize this is the best moment of your entire life. You look around at every color and shape trying not to miss anything as if you could. The band snaps the song shut for just a beat then comes back for another turn.
There is probably 45 seconds of actual music written then it’s repeated like all songs pop. It’s short, it’s not from a great or popular band, it’s not even very original but it’s so very perfect. Bango broke through it’s many limitations in a fleeting nostalgic moment with “Inferno No Mundo.”
Zombies have been chasing The Album for most of the movie, The Album claims "it's just a scratch."
Fucking itunes, god I love it. Years and years of heavily favoring complete albums drawn to perfection from start to finish over the flashy pan singles have left me feeling like a cheat. My dedication wavers to albums such as “The Magical Mystery Aenema” or “Slip It In Utero” and who could forget “Dark Side of the Downward Spiral” that one always cheered me up. Goodbye for now albums, thanks for taking me so very, very far away from all of this….Earth stuff. Now I too have found myself skipping from track to track trying to get a taste of all that my computer has to offer. As for the zombie flick headline, the album is spitting up blood with 100+ fever but it will be back, possibly in need of brains.
Henceforth I am commencing “Frank Enstein’s Track Reviews” in lieu of the general and personal interest in complete albums (it’s not like anyone is even close to recording a new album worth the time it takes to make). Things change though, wonder how long this will last.