Sergio Pérez García, besides being in love with his guitar, has always been a total analogue gadget junkie. We’re not giving away any secrets by saying that obsolete Korg keyboards are pure methadone to him. But until now, alongside his partner Luciana della Villa (the Sibyl Vane bass player, who also accompanied him in the punk spittle of Thelemáticos), he hadn’t decided to give up the premises of his previous work to go off on a tangent. Now, however, he has arguably embarked on the best project of his lengthy career, which has finally been signed by Canada. Pegasvs aren’t inventing anything new and they don’t claim to do so. But in diving into the most pop structures of Krautrock (which from now on should be referred to as Krautpop), the duo positions itself at the head of the class in the area of electronic archaeology of the 70s, with an album that is more addictive than angel dust. Starting from the repetitive motoric rhythm that Neu! popularised, the mildness of mid-90s Stereolab, and synthetic pop referents like Gary Numan (who raises his head in “No Volverá” to make it clear to us that “Are Friends Electric?” is still cutting-edge over 30 years after its release) - Pegasvs grabs us by the balls; taking us to a not-so-remote past in which man dominated the primitive technologies within his reach (unlike now).
It’s pointless to tear the album apart song by song. In the just under thirty minutes that it lasts, “Pegasvs” should be understood as a whole. It is a retrospective journey that uses the same sampled drums (“Atlántico” and “Sobre las Olas”, for example, are cut from the same melodic pattern) and the recycling of resources over the course of the nine songs. “Doesn’t it get boring or tiring?” more than one of you may be asking yourselves. Well no, not at all. The contrast between the abrupt aggressiveness of the melodies and Luciana’s sweet Argentine accent sucks you in from the very first listening, with a collection of songs that sound like total hits without even trying to. Those of you who went crazy over those first three advance releases, “La Melodía Del Afilador”, “Atlántico” or “El Final De La Noche” will also love the previously-unreleased “Inmortal” or the reverberating nightmare of “Sol de Medianoche”. Excuse me, John Talabot, but we have a second candidate for the best Spanish album of the year.