Review Summary: A little slice of pure violence.
Despite its title, there’s no light to find within Joliette’s latest EP. Preceding LP
Luz Devora featured hints of it--restrained post-rock that balanced the band’s volatile post-hardcore, adding gentler textures as both a respite and a launchpad for further assaults--but that’s all summarily dismissed here. The Mexican quartet have swerved headfirst into cacophony sans-salvation, relishing in jagged arrangements clouded by unyielding dissonance, dominated by swirling riffs, and disrupted by a furious percussion performance. What ensues is something that trades in precise movements for a visceral nightmare;
Luz de Bengala is a rush of adrenaline, a heavily screamo-influenced bullet ride that gives precious seconds of ambient noise before rocketing onward. The rolling percussion and visceral, discordant riffing of “Lemus” in of itself is enough of a reassertion of Joliette’s skill and prestige, but the group refuses to relent for the rest of the 20-minute burst of volatile energy.
Much like the collective’s earlier work in
Atáxico, there’s much more here that draws from skramz greats and contemporaries such as Naivete, with an emphasis on complex, lightning-fast riffing. That mathy insanity runs amok in “IETU” and morphs “Sandy Coquimbo” into an unpredictable, tense experience, but the drumming is what conquers the EP. Beyond wonderfully setting the stage on “Lemus,” it barrels onward with the intensity of a freight train, pulverizing any comers with intricate patterns and pummeling fills. It’s a shame then that “XIII” ends the disc’s thrills; it attempts to build up to something or cause unrest with its static-laden interior, but it lacks an engaging premise and never really leads to anything. Immersion is broken from the preceding nightmarish atmosphere, but not to the extent that it’s entirely discounted. Joliette leave little room for doubt;
Luz de Bengala demonstrates the group’s brute strength, and it’s evident they haven’t lost their creative spark whatsoever.
