Visonia :: Claroscuro (Zyrcadian Editions / Frigio)

Visonia pulls out all the stops with six punchy rhythmic tracks combined with industrial darkwave and electro concepts, which at times is delivered in a raw punk fashion.

Expect to come out of this listening experience a little bruised

Chilean audio-visual artist Nicolas Estany (aka Visonia) currently based in Warsaw returns with archaic sounds in their latest mini-LP Claroscuro.” Visonia pulls out all the stops with six punchy rhythmic tracks combined with industrial darkwave and electro concepts, which at times is delivered in a raw punk fashion; expect to come out of this listening experience a little bruised, but with these addictive sonics searing into your skin you will only line yourself back up wanting more.

Opening with “The Brain Plays With Me,” Visonia scatters schizophrenic vocal cuts across your mind with an engulfing fuzzed out backbeat. The momentum in saturation pulls aside to make room for melodic introduction in the follow up title track. Re-pitched and jarring harmonies hint to sweet nothings as open pad soundtracks a recovery of sorts before we descend further into this mini-LP. The vocal performance and edits throughout are a mainstay as we continue onto personal favorite “Don’t Trust In The First Whispers”—a laceration taken from free flow cipher takes.

For the second half of Claraoscuro, Visonia ramps up the ante with disturbing fractures from fading memories in “Aphasia,” meaning the ability not to communicate. The haunting choir-like sigh is as if one takes their last breath. Closing with “Melted Doubts,” we see Visonia leave us with an open-ended conversation in sonic form produced from anxiety inducing tremors.

Whilst I expect the follow up release (whenever that may be) not to appear with band aids and lollipops, what I do know is that it will come with cultivated story-telling of an abstract nature. One that I look forward to listening to again and again, just like this release.

Claroscuro is available on Zyrcadian Editions / Frigio. [Bandcamp]