Reviewed by Eugenia Vela.
If there could be a soundtrack to a dream, this would be it. That’s what I think of when listening to Spanish band Delorean’s new album, Subiza. I usually know right away if I’m going to fall in love with an album or if I’m going to hate it, but Subiza requires multiple listens and close observation to properly analyze and put apart its intricate style. Much like a dream, the album is shapeless and airy, like whirlwinds of sound and light.
I’ve never been much of a fan for electronic music, if that’s even what you can call this. It’s definitely got the background of it, like a surreal electro/synth-pop mix of dance music. But even though I’m not a fan of the genre, anybody can appreciate Subiza, for its originality and beauty—because it is beautiful and puzzling at the same time. Picture a lava lamp, or an image of people dancing in slow motion, club lights stammering, shaking while the sun is rising outside.
It’s like that Elton John song, “Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters,” that speaks of “sons of bankers, sons of lawyers, turn around and say good morning to the night.” Delorean made an album for the free-spirited, and even though you couldn’t easily pick a song off this album apart from the rest, it’s like a 42-minute adventure of tranquility. Though hard to distinguish, the lyrics speak of love and joy, like the more upbeat “Simple Graces.” It’s different from what you normally hear in a club, and it’s, well… happy. Loose. Exhilarating.
Lately, it seems as if it’s Lady GaGa’s world and we’re just living in it, and anybody who loves music, true music, can come to fall in love—whether it be slowly or immediately—to Delorean’s artistic attempts of creating something different. For those who think you only go to a club to grind, dry hump and fist-pump, Subiza is a quick lesson for them: lose yourself, find yourself, breathe. Definitely the soundtrack to a dream.
Red River rating: 7 out of 10