Album Review//Vision Fortune - Mas Fiestas con el Grupo Vision Fortune

I heard a second of the first song ‘XXII’ and I adored. Me Gusta. The constant swerve of the guitar(s) and the driving, hypnotic drums throughout the album pushes and pulls oneself to a point of dizzying euphoria, in which there is no come down – impossible? Certainly not. This may be due to the unnerving consistency that is delivered from start to finish. In fact, one wonders whether all the members of Vision Fortune still have a soul remaining after bearing witness to such an evil sounding record, as some form of shadowy deal must have been struck up in order to create this otherworldly mass of noise.

The thick feedback-laden ‘XVI’ is a particularly intriguing moment. Whilst listening, the soundscape manages to create vivid imagery. The subtle changes in the tone, smoothly destroys one narrative into the next, constructing a vast horizon of ethereal tales. It would be very lazy to comment on the psychedelic influences that resonate out of the works, and certainly to comment on the drug culture that goes hand in hand. That would be insulting and very much beneath such an impressive display of tonal know how. The hallmarks of krautrock are evident, but whereas collectives such as Faust and Can tend to lean towards more playful and light hearted frolics, Vision Fortune are dark, deathly and borne out of a serious desire to walk the left hand path.

‘XIV’ is a filthy cougar of a song. The bass is damn sexy. Sultry even. To some extent, this has an all round gentler approach and if Vision Fortune could ever be accessible, then this track has the hooks to sink into unsuspecting victims. Not that this lowers any form of credibility on their behalf, it only serves to increase it, as they have the ability to make something so dangerous and somewhat experimental, yet turn it towards slightly bigger and audiences and exclaim ‘You can have a piece of us too, we’re not just for know-it-all elitists!’. Going back to the bass riff, it appears as though some ragged, semi-obscure garage punk band from the 60’s – like The Juju’s or The Keggs – have wandered through the minds of Anton LeVay, Genesis P’Orridge and the Reid brothers all at once. 

As I listen to ‘XVII’, I am pleasantly reminded of a certain Icelandic band – Dead Skeletons. It’s all here. The pure evil; foreboding atmosphere; the twisted, Tibetan style mantras and the layer upon layer of beautiful reverb. I daresay, however, that the lyrics are more biting. They sound as though they are being snarled; only I can’t completely confirm this as the actual words are near indecipherable. Again, this is not a bad thing. A band who wears their heart on the sleeve, leave nothing to the imagination and tend to become tedious after a while. The mystery and intrigue that come from Vision Fortune, is exactly what the world has been waiting for.

Reviewed by Rick Antonsson.  

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