So, a little while ago, we brought you a very experimental band from México called Turbina, who offered a complex album that went by the name of Leti’ Hum eek’ – Inda Jani – Mish Masadi (our review.) That album veered from screeching rock experimentation to acid jazz to experimental, abstract ambient.

In this album, Leti’ Hum eek’ – Inda Jani – Mish Masadi II, their third, the gear is still shifted towards experimentation. Recorded in the same sessions as Leti’ Hum eek’ – Inda Jani – Mish Masadi, there seems to be a much clearer direction towards where the musical arrows of Turbina are being aimed and shot with the acumen of a seasoned pro.

‘Axayácatl’, with its half-whispered lyrics, start the trip. I expect an explosive, jarring attack like in ‘Cretino’, but no, glitches and atmospheres is what make the DNA of this track. For a few moments, just a few, it would seem Turbina grabbed to the experimental electronic vine of the jungle of genres, but, heck, why stay in one genre when you can just swing around while dropkicking a few unsuspecting listeners?

‘Shiva’ seems to be going on the same track, but then a troupe of guitars come in and it all becomes a vertiginous trip through the darkest recesses of the human psyche. ‘Lego Delator’ builds upon this, but the rock moments are more aggressive, like a werewolf after its transformation; change only possible thanks to the good flow of Bocafloja, who guest stars and drops some rhymes.

Now we are talking! ‘Xonahuiacan’ is the prog rock moment of the album, but there’s no single virtuosos showing off here, just a lengthy track with enough room to let all the ideas breathe and gather a moreish flavour, just like a good red wine. Keep it classy, says ‘Philia’, mixing jazz, a lovelorn sax solo and a lot of glitches that create an engaging atmosphere that evokes dark memories of nightmares.

Have I mentioned this album is really unsettling? Like, proper jump scares in a grainy film?

Sure, the previous album had some freak out moments, but this one, yes, it will challenge the listener a lot. If you give in to the odd structures they’ve created, you will find a very rewarding album, one that jumps from Brutalism to Art Deco. ‘Cómplices del tiempo’ is the “safe” moment, a peaceful track with a groovy beat and sweeping synths. A safe port in this stormy album.

‘No sé’ is an ominous set up to ‘¡Que permanezca la tierra!’, the grand closing of the album. If ‘Xonahuiacan’ was an apocalypse, then  ‘¡Que permanezca la tierra!’ is the next cycle of a world, any world, ravaged by unseen forces. The inclusion of wind instruments might jar at a first glance, but it complements the song quite well. ‘Mish Mashadi’ is more of an afterthought, a little denouement to the odyssey we’ve gone through.

There’s a couple of remixes included in this collection, of which ‘Philia (Roel Funken rmx)’ is the clear winner, but as always, remix are a very Marmite thing in this world of ours.

I see both albums in this series as the Gemini Saga character from Saint Seiya. It might look like he is a good guy and will join the battle against Patriarch, but it turns out that under the different coloured armours lies the same evil being. Both  Leti’ Hum eek’ – Inda Jani – Mish Masadi albums, with their contrasting album art, share a strong sense of experimentation that might scare the passerby who just wants a love song but that will reward anyone saying “there’s no interesting music being made in Mexico.” To the non believers, Turbina have produced exhibits “A” and “B” with both parts of Leti’ Hum eek’ – Inda Jani – Mish Masadi. Now go forth and enjoy this trip to Mictlán.

Words: Sam J. Valdes Lopez.

Turbina Bandcamp. Twitter. Website. Facebook. Soundcloud.