There are fashions that one should not join lightly and, coincidentally, many of them were born in the first decade of the century. Y2K didn’t crash everyone’s computers, but it did kill our brains in many ways. The most ominous decade in terms of aesthetics in recent years did not deserve the revival that we have experienced post-pandemic. As if it were not enough to have experienced confinement, upon leaving we have had to do the same with Y2K.
Although there are issues, such as the resurgence of electronics, as well as the broadening of its base, in which this comeback It has worked, hyperpop, the genre that mixes tontipop with machine electronics, has gotten out of hand. Being such a particular proposal, any excess is a disaster. That is what has happened in ‘Warmth sensation’the new of Maria Escarmiento y Fran Laoren. After the more than interesting album of the ex of OT this year, ‘THINGS OF WITCHES’where the cauldron had welcomed a potion with the right doses of electronics, urban sounds and naïve lyrics, accompanied by an artistic vision in which aesthetics could be discussed but not its scope, ‘WARMTH SENSATION’ It is not an equally appetizing bite.
Everything that worked, now stops doing it. We could say many things about this, but the most important thing is that as an album, it’s boring. One goes through his songs without distinguishing when one ends and another begins. The sound is similar throughout the entire album, and not to ride a trend should stop giving importance to details and originality, to that layer of glitter that seems to want to vindicate so much and that would suit this so well. The main problem is that although all the songs could work independently on a night out or on a random playlist, when you consume them as an album, nothing happens. The discordant note, for the better, of the entire work, is given precisely by the version of “I want to go out” by DJ Martha. One blinks and comes out of his lethargy of cute phrases that go nowhere.
A shame. This project wanted to recreate the aesthetics and style of the Caribe Mix and those terrible summer records that were sold on the top mantas and on the shelves of gas stations. I understand the exercise of nostalgia but there are demons that it is better not to wake up.