La Sirena de Pecera
Old Time Relijun
Reviewed by Robert Soza
Friday, April 28 2000, 2:15 PM
I don't speak a word of Spanish, Italian, or Portuguese, but who really cares? The three songs ("Casino," "Cacerato," and "Adaga") sung in these foreign tongues defy their inaccessibility to English-only speakers. This is hardcore punk as it should be: egalitarian rock and roll. La Sirena de Pecera's pure power chords and theatrically indignant vocals brought me to my knees. This is really good shit.
Almost better than the music is the CD jacket's art work. Arrington de Dionyso, also the vocalist and songwriter, has crafted a dirty-birdie melange of thought-provoking images. On the disc itself, well, it's old time religion -- there's a devilish looking beast "knowing" a woman, French kissing and all right before your eyes. It reminds me of Rudimentary Peni's album covers, but without the burden of tasteful politics. This is the truth of religion's exploitation of women as mere sexual objects before men and their faith (I could be over-reading).
I am inclined to think that my interpretation is accurate because the images on the inside of the jacket present further disturbing images of women as commodities before devilish-looking male figures. There is one image that I can't figure out what the hell it is -- this may be the key to understanding all of the iconography, so, if you look at it and get it, e-mail me and let me know. Anyway, the art is pretty raw to say the least. So, if you are not a fan of in your face illustrations, this may not do it for you.
But getting back to the songs: it's hard to describe what they sound like. Dionyso's vocals evoke a more anguished Lux Interior. That may sound like too much, but he pulls it off in the most sublime of all possible senses. However the synthesis doesn't stop there. Old Time Relijun's music also evokes shades of early eighties British anarcho-punk such as the aformentioned Rubimentary Peni, CRASS, and The Subhumans. Except for the final track on La Sirena "urge and urge and urge the always innocent procreant urge of the world," which is reminiscent of a Tom Waits saxophone solo -- gritty and painful, yet beautiful like the bottom of an empty scotch bottle.
La Sirena de Pecera is a K Records release