La Célula Durmiente ‎– Disco Póstumo CD

La Célula Durmiente ‎– Disco Póstumo CD

Ten years have passed since Zeidun emerged from the Catalan underground scene and left their particular mark. That own Zeidunera idiosyncrasy -with its way of doing things, singing songs and explaining jokes- caused a few of its members to be at the forefront of some of the most exciting projects years later: Surfin' Sirles, Les Aus or La Sleeping Cell, the group of the ex-frontman of Zeidun, Joan Colomo. I don't know if it's time we started referring to Joan as a veteran musician, a label that usually makes us think of Eric Clapton and artists with a paunch and little hair who have accommodated their speech in a painful way. Better not to, because La Célula Durmiente and Póstumo (BCore Discs, 2010) don't make us think of Eric Clapton or lounging musicians. Despite the title (note: as they themselves make clear in the inside notes, no member of the band has recently died) this album doesn't make us think about death either, on the contrary. Vitalistic in their forms but with a certain existentialist touch in their lyrics, La Célula Durmiente are capable of delivering seemingly simple songs, with some chorus that might make you think of Juanes (magnificent Curved Line), but which nevertheless hide a hidden face. , soul with calluses.

If the group's previous works were marked by unapologetic eclecticism -with songs that could go from tex mex to punk, indie rock or Mediterranean songs-, on Póstumo (BCore, 2010), the band's fourth album, the compositions have a slightly less bizarre stylistic pattern (although it hasn't completely disappeared, it's in their DNA: the Martian Aboriginal Origin or the album's artwork prove it) and that gives the whole more cohesion. At this point, it's not easy to make a garage-pop guitar album as damn good as this one. Jay Reatard would be proud of songs that stick to you like a toffee candy to your teeth, like the visceral Drift. Fans of current bands like Black Lips, Comet Gain or Ty Segall (or less current ones like Dead Boys, Wipers or Elvis Costello) will find this trio from Barcelona as if they were in paradise. In the first listens, those melodies full of dynamism, brand of the house, have almost absolute protagonism, but little by little the listener discovers an instrumental and interpretive richness that gives greater depth to the ensemble.