When Suicide have been enjoying piss-stained golf equipment within the Nineteen Seventies, they did so in worry for his or her very lives. Their hostile, slow-burning synth-punk infuriated some concertgoers a lot that singer Alan Vega and keyboardist Martin Rev received accustomed to dodging airborne objects. Bottles on a superb night time. Rocks, sometimes. And one time: an ax. Barcelona experimental duo Dame Space, who rely Suicide amongst their chief influences, might need met the identical destiny had they not emerged a long time later from Màgia Roja, an underground membership, label, and inventive incubator that shuttered in 2019. Co-founded by Dame Space producer Viktor Lux Crux 5 years prior, Màgia Roja’s 100-capacity venue was so welcoming—of punks, visible artists, hippies, fits—that performers weren’t even elevated on a stage; they have been on the bottom with everyone else.
Crux met Dame Space vocalist Silvia Konstance after they have been working and dwelling at Màgia Roja, and the 2 began churning out demos in 2017. Throughout a handful of albums and EPs, they’ve drawn upon a dynamic set of kinds: early industrial like Throbbing Gristle, Nurse With Wound, and Einstürzende Neubauten; Franco Battiato’s electro-lounge interval; even an unlikely Italian opera piece that knowledgeable their 2018 launch Centro di Gravitá. Dame Space’s voracious method to style appears straight linked to the time they spent beneath Màgia Roja’s roof, sweating alongside numerous subcultures. In 2022, Konstance and Crux even went pop…ish. Toda la mentira sobre Dame Space (All of the Lies About Dame Space) is a chrome-sleek hybrid of recent wave à la Gary Numan, Italo disco, and synth arpeggios match for a bender at Berghain. For his or her new companion LP, Toda la verdad sobre Dame Space (The Complete Fact About Dame Space), Crux and Konstance take a crowbar to that polished exterior and produce their rawest sound but.
Toda la verdad, which clocks in at a bracing 36 minutes, bottles the jagged ferocity of Dame Space’s stay reveals. Their armory of synths and drum pads mimic every thing from bashed trash-can lids to a dentist drill to a machine gun emptying its journal. Konstance—who sings in her native Italian, in addition to Spanish, Turkish, and German—can sound chipper and childlike in a single breath and demonic within the subsequent. On Toda la verdad she leans into the craze, yelping and snarling like a wounded animal on “Striscia,” and screaming like a blast of TV static on “Devoción.” “How can I do it with out energy?/I’ve determined: I’ll be taught to burn, I’ll be taught to chunk,” Konstance belts in Spanish on searing opener “Si no es hoy cuándo es.” Crux amplifies her wrath with buzzsaw synths and blast-beat percussion.
