It’s simple enough to account for the cutthroat kind of gravitas at the forefront of Consuelo, the sophomore release from experimental Catalan duo Los Sara Fontán. Like most of us, violinist Sara Fontán and percussionist Edi Pou are fed up with many of the phenomena that shape our small world: rising authoritarianism, the worsening climate crisis, the slow and fast violence borne of technocapitalism, war, genocide, and the rest. Accordingly, they have a lot to say about Consuelo, an album remarkable for the messages it conveys through the aural construction of intensely evocative soundscapes that feature not a single spoken word.
The sonic does not stand alone on Consuelo, to be sure. Fontán and Pou make their perspective clear at first glance of the cover, which features an illustration of a woman staring at the viewer. With a violin bow strapped to her back and a grasshopper held gently to her chest, she asks us, perhaps even insists that we rethink our priorities, our relationships with our fellow beings. How can our creativity connect us with our world? How can we foster care for all life while struggling under the weight of contemporary feudalism?
For Los Sara Fontán, clarity—of rage and purpose—is one key. “All the Bastards” opens the record with clanging beats and ominous pizzicato. Glitches, dissonance, and increasingly dense layers of rhythm and melody swirl together in furious, zigzagging movement. It culminates in Fontán’s violin crying out in long, sharp strokes against Pou’s throbbing electroacoustic mix.
With high stakes established, the following song, “Zapatos, Selfie, Genocidio, Makeup”, begins with a baleful metallic clatter offset by sweetly plucked strings, a juxtaposition made deadly serious by the title’s framing, a reminder of how easily global horrors can be subsumed into the mundane. The acrobatic stretching of Fontán’s layered violin lines over a growling low end makes for a menacing ending. “Mecanisme d’Obediència” ends this especially dystopian run of pieces with intense, mechanical found sounds flickering in and out, until repetitive bursts of synths take us at high speed into a fadeout of birdsong and gardening tools.
In the wake of the rage, though, there has to be hope. The rest of Consuelo fulfills the album’s titular promise of consolation through tracks that are more upbeat yet deeply emotive. “Creer Fuerte” sweeps into bloom. “Megalodón 2” begins with a wistful shimmer and then picks up to a primally satisfying running pace. “Dubte Metòdic” has cinematic mystique and an explosive dubstep-adjacent finish. Final tracks “Elektra” and “Salomé” draw heavily on Fontán’s conservatory training and mix them brilliantly with the duo’s raw energy: a soft, still powerful landing.
With this new release, Los Sara Fontán offer us a spirited, avant-garde work, predicated on DIY ethos and incredibly polished skill. They sound a possible future that can only come through agitation and a total reworking of society, that requires an intentional storm to clear the air. It’s not a future that can be built through complacency. It is not fixed, it is not easy, it is not knowable. It requires experimentation and a sense of unbounded community care. It sounds something like Consuelo.