JUANA MOLINA
SEGUNDO
DOMINO RECORDING
Argentine ingénue Juana Molina has a voice like a blustery Patagonian gale on Segundo, one of the most complicated-but-gorgeous electronica experiments ever recorded outside Iceland. Molina's creation is definitely not Bebel Gilberto-esque friendly stuff—her groaning organs, clashing basses and chattering drum machines sound like the more accessible moments of “Revolution #9,” and even the few radio-friendly tracks on the recording come off as peppy morgue music. But Molina pours soul into Segundo. Originally finished in 2001 but barely reaching U.S. airwaves, the album is a plangent wonder, Molina's acoustic guitar fingerings lurking behind sensuous bloops and tweeting vocals that never rise above a fretful whisper. She stretches out squiggly synthesizer notes till it seems the keys have been vibrating since the Big Bang, or abruptly cuts them so that theremins honk like angry trumpets. Molina even uses her voice as a woodwind, harnessing her gush into an overpowering hum until it booms like the voice of God Herself on the instrumental “Mantra del Bicho Feo.” The most truly memorable segments, however, involve cricket chirps, parrot squawks, and even a dog that yelps like a frightened corgi on “El Perro”—all allusions to the innate animal nature of humans that make up the core of Molina's lyrics. Couple this with occasionally revolutionary lyrics (like “Here comes Judas/Dressed in his pastor robes” on “El Pastor Mentiroso”—”The Lying Pastor”), and Segundo is one of those rare albums whose ridiculously delayed release was worth every year of waiting.
