The egress to abandoned lands, a forlorn place where we pummel the lands in search, questing to emblazon the tuft of skin with artifact. Dango Rose is a realm of Salvador Dali-esque hyperbole, a dream state of shadowy shipbuilding. The odd ins and outs are endeavors that crease the pinions of strange creatures.
Traveling with strange birds and ancient craftwork we see “The Forgotten Years: Vol. II” a sutra of empathic eulogy to history and testimony. Like cultures of past creations being given a narrative for posterity, we are here to witness the taciturn revolutions of wading hips in a river of forgets.
They bear witness to the earthen almost nomadic steeps that the blistered feet crossed to reach heavenly spaces. On foot or through a consciousness that contains multitudes as Whitman once said in one form or another, the travel through Dango Rose’s EP is a space oddity like so many weird wirings. A less estrogen version of CocoRosie, and a more docile version of Captain Beefheart and his Magic Band.
We catch up with Dango Rose with their wailing like stigmatic sirens and hyphenated asterisks boarding a tanker filled with drowning musicians. We see the troubadour in Dango Rose releasing themselves from the tangles of purgatory in “The Forgotten Years: Vol. II.”
The proxy of countless hallowed voices in the pitch dark of rumination makes us believe Dango Rose has been digging for the noises restlessly buried in their psyche and anima. Reason is a character in the songs that creep up in the diurnal events of the EP and like reason there is at once a derangement moving crookedly through the halls of schoolyards of ghostly darkness. At once we hear a small smear of childish grieving and child-like enchantment that both comes to the fore. They are all too human experiences that lift the album into a depth of overpowering feeling.
Written by Hari Palacio
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