Desaparacidos- Read Music, Speak Spanish

Every once in awhile, if you are lucky, you come across an all-month C.D.

You know, one of those albums that you dont take off your player for a month. You listen to it while you get dressed for school or work. You record it onto a tape so you can listen in your car. When you pull up to 7-11, you dont turn off your stereo until the track you are listening to finishes. Each time you listen, weather it be rotation number four or eighty-four, you manage to find something new somewhere embedded in the music that makes you say, damn in amazement. 

Listening to Desaparecidos first C.D., Read Music, Speak Spanish, was like magic from start to finish.  Conor Oberst, (better known for his bordering on mental breakdown-type vocal inflection and introspective lyrics as the only permanent member of the group Bright Eyes) tries his hand at heading up a rock band. As one would expect, there is a heavier sound. Its a good thing Obersts voice isnt lost amidst all of that crazy rocknroll distortion and chaos; rather, the music serves as a powerful backdrop for the bands highlight: questioning lyrics and an incredibly sincere delivery.

Comparisons to Obersts previous projects, Bright Eyes and Commander Venus, are inevitable. It is apparent that he is capable of writing beyond the crappy relationship songwriting topic (something which, by the way, he manages to articulate quite eloquently and beautifully) that his past albums have focused so intently upon. Having a solid foursome of musicians in the band might have upped Obersts confidence in presenting a less confessional tone as well. The lyrics dont need to be about how a girl did some guy wrong; endless urban development and American hypocrisy concerns the group more. Oberst has a firm grasp on social commentary as he growls, in the computers blue glare, bombs burst in the air; there was a city once, now nothings there. Our freedom comes at their expense As Oberst screams out No more! repeatedly, the guitars and drums peter out until there is silence. By the time The Happiest Place in the World finishes, the listener is as exhausted as the artist.

Insecurities be damned, Desaparecidos lays the issues out on the table and then asks you to think about where you stand. Sometimes, its not so pretty. But then again, neither is life. 

Despite the bitter commentary, there is something charming about the album. Perhaps its the pretty pop guitar chugging steadily along with a drummer intent on beating the hell out of his kit.  There is a familiarity about the music; nothing too over the top and distinctive about the composition of each of the songs. They are catchy, simple and sometimes surprisingly sparse. Desaparecidos seems to revel in the fact that they can pull together a great song, and manage to make it sound like an effortless feat. The end result is a pop punk record that is as delectable intellectually as it is sonically.

Get ready to shell out a good fifteen dollars. Desaparecidos Read Music, Speak Spanish is your new all-month C.D.

Aurora Armijo