Saltar a Volar
En Moloko
Que Dios me Perdone
Puñado de Suerte
Tierra Preguntas
Adonis & Bulldozer
Destello de Estrellas
Olvidar un Corazòn
Dios sin Ojos
Cùrame
Mar Dorado
Desde
Otoño
Las Aguas en la Tierra

En Mares de Sangre
Ulla, Tu y Yo
Como Insectos Bajo el Sol
L'Ametlla Prados

You can be always assured of an intoxicating assemblage of the avant-garde whenever Novy Svet collaborate their Austrian talents with another in weird combine, in this release former partners, Ô Paradis. "Destello de Estrellas en la Frente" is the second full length commingling after 2003’s "Entre Siempre y Jamas Suben las Mareas, Duermen las Ciudades" and sees a return to opalesque minimalism embellished with the dark that frets each act.

Some eighteen tracks and one could expect to get lost amidst a full seventy-plus farrago yet anything is but this case just tipping one hour of well-paced and palpitatingly haunting dimensions that make this a truly sufferable pleasure. It would be a difficult dissertation to investigate each track, the mouldering mesh of modern sound on antiquated musical treatments creates a transmutation, sublime Mediterranean filigree begrimed with the dust of centuries. Tracks like the neofolk hip-hop of 'En Moloko' confess a disregard for tradition blending church organ with percussive rustle and shuddering bass into a body-swaying pop anthem. There is a prevalence of vocals and predominate lack of guitar, Jeurgen (Novy Svet) vocals coil nearly every track in reverberating Spanish ropes giving the album a military-pop flavour that would find appeal with fans of recent Der Blutharsch and Dernière Volonté. Samples and analogue glitches crust the groaning organs and spastic jazz melodies, secreting eerie pools of obscure experimentalism. There are enough dark tracks tangled in neofolk cadences to not place this album out of reach of traditionalists, in fact the album carefully melds tradition into this vibrant new form both stirring and mournful. It is the perfect album for a summer eve with friends and fine wine with its lazed circuitry and crumpled romanticism.

A simple digipak embosses the release, with grim photography of a decomposing head of a sheep staring up through the foliage with its malodorous eye, with little else artwork. This limited edition of 333 comes with the bonus 3” CD glued to the inside of the digipak colour in its own sleeve.

NYR