Genre: Ethnic Ambient
01 God on a Raft of Serpents
02 Smoking Mirror
05 Brujo Calling
06 Those Who Spring Forth
Calm reflection at the end of time. Sweet apocalypse with a view, the shuddering horizon brushes the chimes marionetting in building wind. It’s a beautiful idyll. Far from eschatologically bent, however, ‘Tlapallan Tontonal’ is an oncoming desolation, and its cleansing scouring is a well filmed one.
As an atmosphere quakes and the chimes twist and clangour, the guitars steal in like pallbearers, haunting entourage. Tribal rhythms jerk in sweet rolling swells. A stolen city is a memory as we pass by with its gloaming howls and clatter, the industrial punctuation files like the husks of vast pyramids, swollen memories. Lingua Fungi elicit the ambient and the organic and the empty, they don’t so much as scallop a ruin for you but pass it by with recordings, this world of Mesoamerica. It feels like a world of leviathans such as one that Lingua Fungi cues in track 4, Quetzalcoatl; plumed emerald quetzal and the scything snaking of the coatl, blending forms of tribal alchemy and yawning abysm.
This newest incarnation of Lingua Fungi portrays a mythic history with finesse and languorous detailing, using expanse and fidelity to hypnotise with its mysterious cultural an aural atavism. Darker intimations are plumbed but for the most part the album undulates like beautiful filmography accompanied by suitable soundtrack – not that this is some attempt and an OST, rather the music makes the film. It is carefully sculpted minimalism with an encompassing breadth of three dimensional space.
The stereo field is wide, the sounds round and deep – drones a little too much so at times – and it gives an intimate accompaniment to the composition, enhancing where it could have easily fallen into a poorly mixed/mastered mass and this in itself carries Tlapallan Tontonal as a puissant release, well worth the ear of the ambient/folk lover.