A Closer Listen
Kate Bush once sang, “let me sleep and dream of sheep.” In contrast, Uruguayan composer Lila Tirando a Violeta dreams of snakes. But in true gothic-industrial fashion, she welcomes the vision, connecting it with her ancestors while translating it into music that could only have been made in this century. It may also be the first album to blend ostriches and IDM, a testament of uniqueness.
As demonstrated by the striking cover art, Dream of Snakes contains the sort of music that would fit well on a sci-fi soundtrack. This makes it all the more surprising that hidden in the nooks and crannies of the mix are field recordings of the Irish countryside, the artist’s current home. One of her strengths is the integration of disparate elements to form a whole.
Not wasting a second, “Unworthy Praise” begins in a siren wail that leads directly into aggressive percussion. The track sounds as if it were recorded in a cave, liquid dripping from stalactites and soaking the drums, which eventually recede to reveal a harp-like passage. “New Flesh” is where the set kicks into high gear, alternating industrial rhythms with danceable, calliope synth. “You just need to kill the old flesh,” the artist advises. “Do you think you’re ready?” The question may apply to life in general or to the music itself. It’s no surprise that it was chosen as one of the early singles, along with “Ostrich: Ñandú,” which sounds like a frantic ostrich race across open fields, clouds of dust obscuring the participants, who emerge time and again, having traveled faster and farther than any observer could have imagined. At nearly 150 BPM, the tempo matches the bird.
“Retumba en tu Piel” (“It Reverberates In Your Skin”) contains the album’s largest internal shift, revealing what might happen if an ambient piece were dropped into a vat of seething electronics. Turn the volume up, and the piece will do exactly what it promises, delivering a physical response. The percussion of this piece is particularly strong, a reflection of South American rhythms – one might even call them snakelike.
The artist also has a potential crossover hit on her hands with “Rest and Relaxation,” offered in original and collaborative versions, multiple permutations of “wake up” whispered and chanted over alternating drum ‘n’ bass and ambient beds. One can imagine a video, a montage of parents and partners trying to rouse their loved ones as a merciless clock spins behind them. At over 160 BPM, “Eye Slice” keeps the energy at fever pitch, making Dream of Snakes seem like a caffeinated morning, the artist racing to write down her visions before they dissipate.
By making friends with danger, Lila Tirando a Violeta flips the script on ancient fears. The snake need not be an object of fear, but may instead be a totem of power. By channeling this power, the artist has claimed it for her own. (Richard Allen)
Tue Apr 22 00:01:52 GMT 2025