
Mus is the sort of band that validates an indie geek's existence. Twee-loving zine printers, hopelessly snobby record store clerks, mumbling and stuttering college radio jocks—none of them would be able to resist the gorgeous ethereal siren song of Mónica Vacas and her instrumentalist partner, Fran Gayo. With an album released on a Spanish label, lyrics sung in Asturian, a dying Spanish dialect, and a sound that's simultaneously twee and Velvet Underground inspired, Mus combines the logistical absurdity with the melodic brilliance that keep us nerds salivating. With La Vida, the duo's latest album, that hopeless obsession can only intensify, as it's their best yet.
My own fascination with the Spanish duo began when I, myself, was a college radio DJ and discovered their self-titled release, in particular a catchy, electronic, almost Stereolab-like track titled "El Que Na La Puerta." A year later, I came across their sophomore set, El Naval, which I found all the more enchanting, particularly for its more fleshed-out pop arrangements. And though it had been some time since I heard from this unassuming group, I was thrilled, and a bit surprised to be greeted with a new release by this special group. I found it no great surprise, however, to discover that La Vida is absolutely gorgeous.
get it
buy it