After two albums, 1998's and 1999's , made up of competent, but seriously -dependent and , Argentina's definitively established their own unique identity with 2002's critically acclaimed -- an often stark and mostly wordless Patagonian built on songs resembling slow-advancing glaciers, their riff-blocks as dense as Andes Mountain strata compacted by untold eons. Then, there followed , which essentially extrapolated those panoramic songwriting tendencies while apparently satiating the band's interests in that creative direction. The next album, , found them switching gears completely to embrace an astonishingly raw, loose, even ragged, brand of fuzz , so far removed from as to be almost shocking. Yet, for the most part, it's a source of great relief to see that stellar compositional and musical skills still manage to carry them through the day: whether pounding their way through a predominance of high-energy numbers ( etc.), detouring into bare-bones acoustic offerings ( ), or trudging closer to their slow burning, doomier natural element on rare occasions ( ). If all of the above reveal any notable weakness, it has to be 's somewhat limited range of vocal expression; a weakness he'd rarely had a chance to even test on those largely instrumental recent efforts, but which here is nevertheless remedied by his laudable insistence on writing Spanish lyrics, which lend the entire album an exotic flavor. And that, along with their innate talents, maverick mindset, and fearlessness about tackling a fresh approach to songwriting, ultimately guarantee another compelling outing for , whose fans undoubtedly realize how precious these qualities have become in the 2000s decidedly impoverished scene. ~ Eduardo Rivadavia