Band:	Mamaleek
Album:	Vida Blue
Style:	Experimental rock
Release date:	August 09, 2024
A review by:	X-Ray Rod

01. Tegucigalpa
02. Vileness Slim
03. Vida Blue
04. Ancient Souls, No Longer Sorrowful
05. Momentary Laughter Concealed From My Eyes
06. Black Pudding Served At The Horn Of The Altar
07. Hatful Of Rain
08. Legion Of Bottom Deck Dealers
09. Hidden Exit On A Greyhound

A recently deceased baseball legend. A recently deceased music collaborator. With Vida Blue, Mamaleek is dealing with the concept of loss and its acceptance. It is a vile mix of emotions that are hard to go through. Thus, it is natural that this vile mix of dark jazz, noise rock, and who-knows-what-else is also hard to go through.

After more than 15 years and 9 albums, Mamaleek remains an enigma. At this point in their career, I don’t believe we were ever meant to understand them and their intentions. I enjoy their music for the same reasons I enjoy looking at abstract or surrealist paintings. Or when I say I like David Lynch movies. Seriously, none of us gets him. We just pretend we do. I’ve seen Lost Highway a couple of times and last time, some weeks ago, I slept through the last 30 minutes, which I kept rewinding and sleeping through until it was 2:00 am. It was like a fever dream and a 10/10 experience overall. But I digress. Mamaleek’s music is bizarre and twisted to the point of being absurd and fun. Last album, Diner Coffee, felt like it still had some traces of metal in it, mainly due to the aggressive vocals. While they are still around on Vida Blue, the music itself feels even more detached from conventional songwriting (and conventional emotions), if that was even possible at this point.

I think the only band I could ever compare Mamaleek to would be Oxbow. Both bands evoke a similar vibe of indescribable danger that lurks at every corner. Both bands also have an affinity for noise rock, improv songwriting and a jazzy identity. However, whereas Oxbow usually performs twisted love songs with an underlying sexual tension, creating that dangerous vibe previously mentioned, Mamaleek just feels like a band that is truly made up of psychos and gangsters that would snap at anybody at the drop of a hat, or when you tell them they are funny but not funny how. So, rather than aiming their uneasy atmosphere at a particular person, Mamaleek chose to aim it at everyone. I guess this is why I felt equally excited and uncomfortable when I saw them at Roadburn festival a while ago. The maniacal tone of their music never lets go, even at its quietest state. Because even if the album is filled with moments like the slick guitar at the beginning of “Tegucigalpa” or the catchy melodies of what I think is a clarinet in “Legion Of Bottom Deck Dealers”, the somber, low harsh howls and the muddy sound of the riffs create instant tension. This is then further amplified by echoing choirs and clean vocals that add a ghostly layer to it all. But then we have tracks like “Ancient Souls, No Longer Sorrowful” with a warmer, relaxed approach in the form of really catchy bass and drums for a bouncy, groovy fun time.

Long-time collaborator Eric Alan Livingston sadly passed away not long after Diner Coffee. If this album is dedicated to him, then it is an apt record for that, as Mamaleek are fleshing out all their different quirks, pouring out all their different moods. And all of them are out there to get you.

If this review seems all over the place, it is because no other approach works when it comes to tackling this album. Vida Blue is both playful and disturbing, catchy yet often puzzling, groovy but at times solemn and emotive. Unsettling unpredictability made music. Perhaps I should start playing baseball without reading the rules first. If I can’t pitch or catch the ball, I can always catch the raindrops with my hat. That way I can put out the fire that only I can see before eating the black pudding. I heard it goes well with a cup of coffee.