Four years after the opus “Jovem Excelso Happy” (heralded as instant classic by certified sommeliers such as Julian Cope, Doug Mosurock or Brian Turner), sparse intense live shows, and studio mishappenings, the hung torchbearers of the new stretchings of the rock spectre, Putas Bêbadas, are back!
Forged in Lisbon over three years, “Orgulho de Ex-Buds” explodes in minty tones of will, pride, and craftsmanship, and presents the listeners with a clear picture of the forces that need be, righting the wrongs of the 00’s, and thrusting ahead, as a glorious flare shot into the dark sky. While there is a sense of familiarity throughout the record, it is so in a pynchonesque flair. Going from Chrome to Crom, and speeding through Sightings’ and Brainbombs’ lawns while chanting melodies that could equally have been drawn from the portuguese punk/hardcore songbook or atlantan mixtapes (without forgetting their own Cafetra Records’ archetypal lyrism), keeping it fresh all along. Bubblegum auto-tuned voices riding ferocious waves of snare-cymbal insanity, guitars building walls and tearing them down, and basslines that know exactly where they’re going. All of this while keeping the previous record’s tradition on telling sweet, boozy, and sour tales, sometimes hopeful, sometimes hopeless. The vocals now occupy a more central role; each lyrics’ metres melting twisted organic rhythm into the sauce. While on surface the themes and mannerisms might remind those of Råberg, Lifeless or even Putnam traditions, “Orgulho de Ex-Buds” is closer to Portuguese literary mavericks Pacheco or Pimenta, with a generous dose of confident control poured over the wit and lasciviousness, with a humanist (!) background.
The whole album is action-packed, fast, and liberating, with song highlights all through: the scorching album opener “Geme” (moan) setting the tone; the brain dancing non-pc anabolic tale “Proteina” (protein); the gratifying tempo structure of “Gorduchinha” (fatty); the anthem “Fada deste lar” (this home’s fairy) with one of the catchiest intros on this side of the noise x rock intersection (“cona e cu aberto/é corrente de ar/tira a tira a cuequinha/deixa a peida a refrescar” | “open ass and cunt/it’s a breeze/take of your panties/let the booty cool down”); the jewels robber love chants in “Joia” (jewel); the ode to Lisbon’s lost and found oasis “Cruzeiro de Velhos” (a cruise for elders); the mesmerizing gynecological existentialism of “Cona da Mãe”; and the finale where ethylic oneness with the universe’s riddles and gifts wraps thing up, “Camões”.