Over the last couple of years, I have done more traveling than at any other time in my life. Just seeing other parts of the world can provide you with a bigger capacity to imagine, dream, and interpret. With the arrival of Fernando Corona (Murcof) and, just recently, Ruben Tamayo, aka Fax, in heavy rotation wherever I go, I am feeling a gravitational pull towards Mexico. Sometimes I dream that by going to a place where an artist is from, I might be able to capture a further understanding about their music and how they perceive and conceptualize it.

Well, for now, I’ll have to settle for travels in my mind while listening to Fax (and Murcof). I mention both artists almost as a big brother-little brother combo, because there are some shining similarities between the two. To clarify, I view Murcof as the older brother, because he has been around just a little bit longer and has a few more albums to his name. Fax is the little brother borrowing, emulating this older sibling he looks up to. At least, it seems this way in my mind, as Fax branches into his own existence out of Murcof’s trunk.

Tamayo uses some similar sounds and techniques to Corona’s palette, employing familiar micro-programming drips and drones mixed well into the background. Fax, however, doesn’t utilize the slow, avant-garde string samples that Murcof is so fond of for his layering. Instead, Fax has a much more upbeat approach that pushes toward danceable, but surrenders at the threshold to remain very cinematic in its own right. To give you an idea of the range of sounds Tamayo uses, he is listed on his MySpace page as handling “computer, guitar, bass, synths, sampling and looping.”
   
All of this comes together nicely as Tamayo proves himself skillful with this array of tools. On “Intro” the drums ping-pong in a dance with ping-ponging synth as well to create a short little head-nodder that bounces back and forth along the stereo spectrum horizon. The very next track is my personal favorite. “Cuarto Para Tres,” which means “Room For Three,” is definitely Summer afternoon bicycle ride material; enhancing your perception of the world around you as you slice your own wind tunnel through the yellow and green of the day. I wonder if the name alludes to the use of three significant guitar tracks that blend nicely together to create that atmosphere. Speaking of atmosphere, “Cielo Rojo” has a wall of guitar reminiscent of My Bloody Valentine that rumbles its way under a red sky of an introspective evening. And the reflectively panned cymbal programming walks briskly toward the sunset of that red sky.
   
The biggest disappointment is the god-awful vocal tracks on “Yo Recuerdo” (title track, not the entire album). If I were fortunate enough to be the producer for this record, I would’ve told Tamayo that the male vocals should get dumped directly in the trash, mostly because they just destroy any enjoyment of what is really a slammin' beat.  On “Tormenta De Arena,” however, the female vocals are complimentary and even become reminiscent of a Bjork track of years ago.
   
I most definitely recommend this album for electronica fans who have fallen in love with Murcof, without trying to overwork the comparison. In my never ending quest for paradox, I will leave you with what I think may be a great descriptor of this musical style: intensely subtle.

-Gabriel Bogart