Artists like San Leo lend strength to the conclusion that there may actually be a few hidden senses and capabilities, available to humans, but only become known under the proper conditions. The way musicians work in general leads me think that humans have a sixth sense of some kind. A powerful invisible organ that only coordinated action with others may unlock. And I will take the sonic codex of San Leo's Mantracore as certifiable proof of my hypothesis. Mantracore is the band's fourth LP and it's built out of a fascination with less impelling aspects of '70s krautrock. The astonishing aural ambiance that it could muster and the passage that it would appear to open, cutting through time and space, to explore eternity in the time it would take to suck down an HB cigarette. Although San Leo's drag doesn't need a filter. The album is comprised of two astonishingly ambitious, slow-burning psychedelics instrumentals, designed to realign your chakras. "MM" begins unhurriedly, moving with the utmost deliberation before erupting into a rumbling and burst of stochastic chords, like a giant suddenly emerging from under a mountainside after restorative thousand-year slumber. The kineticism of "Core" begins as soon as the smoke clears from its predecessor's passage, erupting like a hurricane of pyrokinetic energy, purging the mind of its bramble of psychic-underbrush. Clear your head and prepare to be transported.
