Paula Borges and Jonathan Perez collaborate across space and time. Maybe. The Brazilian/British partnership sure sounds like they exist outside of time’s gentle crawl (or hellacious thrill ride, depending on your perspective). Their work is too drolly captioned “bedroom folk” or “lo-fi trip hop” or some such nonsense, but the reality is that the duo inhabits a space all their own. Hanging Freud hover menacingly in the background, in all backgrounds, a sense of dread filtering through every note and every loop. Borges’s vocals are intoned more than sung, a warning to all those looking to the ghosts of history for inspiration. All you’ll find there is blood and death. Probably. The sense of sadness throughout Motherland’s six tracks is so thick that it feels like you’re breathing it, but instead of heavy oxygen you get lungfuls of black liquid. Your blood pumps it to your soul. Your extremities give up. Your only recourse is the fetal position, and the lump in your throat signals that there’s no tomorrow. Borges keeps singing, oblivious to her and Perez’s effect on you. Of course they’re oblivious, they’re on a tape. But they’ve succeeded in what they’ve likely set out to do. Enjoy this kind deep dive into your psyche when you can find it.
Hanging Freud
--Ryan Masteller