Oruã's
Íngreme feels odder than it should. The spark of the record is owed to the band's support for Built to Spill during a US tour in 2019. The songs were a kind of grounding exercise for the group while on this journey. There isn't a specific Oruã's sound per say; they'll do sound collages when it suits them, and jazz when it feels right, but what is really striking about
Íngreme is the way that it feels like a meeting point between all of these disparate strands while translating them into the sphere of '90s indie rock. It's truly invigorating to hear the way in which Oruã are able to thread the warped and time-distending qualities of Brazilian funk and psyche and lace them elegantly with clumpy indie rock grooves and art-punk percussive flare. It feels like stumbling on a '60s freak-out in the basement of a Berkeley townhouse- a wormhole that connects today to our evaporated, wigged-out past as if they were part of one subterranean digestive track, each nurturing the other and calling the other into simultaneous and spontaneous being. Like Os Mutantes growing spurs to be fired by Archers of Loaf into the broadsided palate (pallet?) of organized disorder raised by groups like Fixtures to create oil stain rainbow effects that jell and spread across a continuum of practice and insight. Its origins might be clearly delineated, but there isn't any containing
Íngreme once it's poured its contents out into your ears. It's like water flowing downhill, there isn't anything it won't pick up and carry with it downstream, and there isn't any nook or cranny that it won't fill and fully investigate while on its kaleidoscopic voyage.
