Reynols - 2020 - Gona Rubian Ranesa

 

Outlier Communications – OCOMM2  250.49MB FLAC

Gona Rubian Ranesa returns Reynols to the studio without making the intervening seventeen years feel like an absence. Recorded in Buenos Aires by the classic quartet of Miguel Tomasín, Anla Courtis, Roberto Conlazo and Pacu Conlazo, the album immediately restores the group’s peculiar chemistry: heavy psychedelic repetition, damaged electronics, ritual percussion and Tomasín’s invented language moving together without any obvious hierarchy. The music sounds spontaneous, but its long forms develop with enough patience to suggest that every eruption has been waiting beneath the surface.

“Cameso Cator Sitero” begins as a thick, revolving guitar piece whose riff seems to stumble forward while the entire recording slowly shifts around it. Percussion and drums establish momentum without becoming a stable rock beat, and the guitars repeatedly dissolve into distortion before reassembling. Tomasín’s voice enters as chant, signal and directional force, giving the music a center that is emotional rather than narrative. Near the middle, a distorted fragment of Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy” emerges from the turbulence, briefly recognizable before being swallowed by the group’s collective motion. It is characteristic Reynols humor: a familiar monument appears inside a homemade psychedelic storm and becomes just another piece of raw material.

“Lintiri Teperoli” opens the sound considerably. Organ tones drift through loose percussion and distant guitar, creating a suspended atmosphere closer to damaged space rock than noise. Tomasín’s murmured and spiraling vocals intensify the sense of transmission from an unknown location. Nothing develops through conventional verse or chorus. Sounds accumulate, separate and return in altered relationships, making the piece feel discovered rather than composed.

“Acotan Silago Foli” continues this slower movement, allowing drones, percussion and electronic textures to gather gradually. The quartet’s strength lies in its ability to make repetition feel unstable. Patterns remain in place long enough to become hypnotic, but small changes in pressure, tuning and density prevent them from settling. Courtis and Conlazo treat guitars less as lead instruments than as generators of weather, while Pacu Conlazo’s horn, flute and percussion introduce irregular flashes of acoustic color.

The closing “Corlo Saturu” brings the album back toward physical overload. Flute, feedback, drums and smeared guitar collide in a loose ceremonial groove that continually threatens to disintegrate. Instead of resolving the record, the track pushes outward, ending with the sense that the performance could continue indefinitely beyond the available space.

The title comes from Tomasín’s invented vocabulary and was eventually described by him as the name of a sunbeam entering his room. That image fits the album: something ordinary transformed through attention into a living presence. Gona Rubian Ranesa is accessible by Reynols standards, but accessibility does not mean compromise. Its riffs are heavier and its structures clearer, yet the band remains fundamentally strange. The record does not recreate an earlier period. It shows Reynols returning with their internal logic intact, capable of turning psychedelic rock into a playful, unstable and completely self-contained world.