Crocodile Slam is the solo project of Gabriel Artie, a Brazilian experimental composer who was enjoying a vagabond tour of the Americas when COVID hit and forced him to seek shelter in his native state of Goiás. His latest LP Nascido em Swampland is the by-product of his hermetic retreat to safety. It takes a lot of time and concentration to make a satisfactory album, and it's Gabriel's sequestering that I think accounts for all the layers and quirks this strange little marsh flower has to offer. Plastic harp like melodies peculation into a suborn hypnogogic state of relief inside the garden walls of a concrete playpen, admitting transgression in the form of pulsing melodies to message out peach pit-sized nodule of resentment, before swallowing the rest back down like it was iron flavored sap from the Tree of Life. There is soft anger that pumps through the grooves and veins of these tracks. Not one that could be directed at anyone in any threatening manner, but one that is slightly unnerved by the conditions of its own birth. Like it's not sure why it's here but it realizes that it has to make the most of the time that it has with you. These compositions are very relatable in that sense. Do you know why you're here? Why you exist at all? These are probably the wrong questions, but we ask ourselves them all the time. Maybe we ask ourselves these questions because we know that they don't have an answer. Because the answers we need, we don't want. So we never ask questions that could lead us to them, becuase if we went where answers could be found, we might never return to the world we know and hold so dear. How many roads must a man walk down before he is neck-deep in tadpoles and algae? I can't say. And I can't help you unpack the clutter of your mind. But I can recommend interesting things to listen to while you tackle the task. Let yourself get lost in a swamp of contemplation with Nascido em Swampland, and let Crocodilo Slam be your guide.
Nascido em Swampland is out via Municipal K7 Records, and you can get it on cassette here.
