Ever since I witnessed Ana Eugenia López Reyes, who performs as Nnux, unveil “one incantation after another” at Sidewalk Cafe in 2018, reveling in her powerful vocals and layered electronics, I’ve been keeping a close eye on her career. In 2020, her debut album, Ciudad, impressed me with the way she incorporated her Mexican heritage into her relentlessly modern sound.
Since then, she has continued to pursue her artistic journey, including as a 2023 recipient of the Matt Marks Impact fund, the wonderful legacy of a composer who left us far too soon. And he would be very proud of how she used that time, as she has now returned with Metamorfosis (CMNTX Records), her most fully realized project yet.
Tormentas, which leads off the album with drones and wails, will immediately make you sit up and pay attention. Even if you didn’t know the album was a song cycle exploring feminine archetypes through various mythologies, including the shape-shifting shamans of Colombia’s Arhuaco people, you would know something was being summoned.
Nnux’s use of multilayered vocals and often aggressively percussive electronic sounds seems designed to alter the air around you. A perfect example is Polvo (dust), which begins with a series of alarm-like synth fanfares, scudding across the aural spectrum like thunderclouds on the horizon, as she sings questing vocal lines with the Avaji Choir providing accompaniment. The synths ebb and flow, sometimes fading into the background, and then returning with startling presence. About halfway through the song, there’s a shift to a more spacious approach. An ascending bass line is introduced, and synths that reach for the sky. The thunderclouds break with grand chords, and pulsing, serrated, and starlit sounds. Then those alarums reappear, reminding me slightly of Ennio Morricone’s marvelous theme for Frantic, before fading away. Polvo left me breathless—consider yourself warned.
Metamorfosis is a marvelous collection, with densely overwhelming tracks leavened by quieter moments, including Perdi Mas Flores, which is Nnux’s mysterious take on a piano ballad. If you haven’t already heeded my earlier calls to listen to this protean artist, now is the perfect time to start.
Listen to most of the songs for Friday here or below.
Billie Eilish - Hit Me Hard And Soft: The Tour (Live) (Darkroom/Interscope) I was there at the beginning of Eilish’s HMHAS journey, having attended the NYC pre-release listening party at Barclays Center two years ago, and now I’ve been able to experience its culmination thanks to her immaculate multimedia victory lap. She threw the first punch with a concert film, shot in 3D and co-directed with James Cameron, which showcased the live show near the end of the record-breaking 13-month tour with spectacular footage from two dates in Manchester, along with behind-the-scenes and interview segments.
There were many remarkable aspects of the movie, from her total involvement in every aspect of the show, from the lighting and stage design, to watching her do her own hair and makeup, to her unbelievable breath control as she dashed around the complex set, and her connection with seemingly every person in the audience of 20,000+ fans. She had a great band, too, even without her brother and closest collaborator, Finneas, who was absent for most of the show. The 3D made you feel more immersed in the action and wasn’t used for cheap effects. From everything I could see, the concert advanced the art form of the stadium show—and the film did as much for its genre.
A couple of weeks after the film opened, Eilish threw the second punch with a live album that is currently only available as a limited-edition, three-LP set. How limited, I don’t know, but the hype sticker proclaims that it’s a “one-time-only pressing,” and a very nice one, too, with each disc a different color and a lenticular insert with a fiery concert photo. So far, only the Intro, a wonderfully bombastic overture incorporating themes from her songs, is the only track on streaming, so you’ll have to take my word that the collection is the furthest thing from a cash grab or mere souvenir. Instead, it’s a beautifully recorded showcase for her fantastic songs, filled with many electric moments between her and the crowd. Unlike her previous live release, Live At Third Man Records, the crowd never feels intrusive, and the whole experience is paradoxically more intimate than that album, which was recorded in a much smaller environment.
For much of her career, Eilish has toured with only her brother and a drummer, Andrew Marshall. With Finneas busy with other pursuits for part of the tour, it made sense to expand the band, and they found the perfect players to accompany her. In addition to Marshall, who anchors the band with energy and versatility, Tom Crouch and Abe Nouri both contribute guitars and synths, Solomon Smith plays bass, and Ava and Jane Horner provide tight harmonies on backup vocals. Eilish chips in with guitars and piano as well, and Finneas shows up for a few songs to play guitars and piano and harmonize with his sister. The resulting sound is rich, filled with nuance and power as the songs require, and Eilish’s singing is stunning throughout.
The setlist is cannily assembled, including every song from HHMAS and weaving them around a selection of singles and songs from the earlier albums, making it impossible to ignore how consistent Eilish and Finneas are as songwriters. The melodic invention is constant, combined with clever, heartfelt lyrics and arrangements that draw on hip-hop, pop, rock, folk, electronic music, and more. I was especially happy to hear TV, from the underrated Guitar Songs EP, which features her at her most vulnerable and exposed, but you’ll likely find your own favorites here, too. This live album is a wonderful capstone to this whole phase of Eilish’s career, effectively clearing the decks for whatever comes next. I can’t wait.
Alex Amen - Sun Of Amen (ATO) When I saw this singer-songwriter open for the Folk Bitch Trio last November, I knew he was the real deal from the first song. His finely crafted tunes merged country, folk, and rock with a touch of earlier eras (the 1920s, even) and bore the marks of his trajectory from Texas to California. Even if his time in the Golden State did not include visits to Laurel Canyon and Bakersfield, they’re here in spirit. He sang the lyrics of love, loss, and regret in a burnished tenor that was as capable of wry wit as it was of tenderness. He was performing solo, however, so I wasn’t sure where he would take the songs next. It turns out he knows his way around the studio, too, having produced an extraordinarily polished debut, rich with acoustic guitars, pedal steel, banjo, fiddle, organ, flute, strings, and arrangements that make each song sound like a classic. Intriguingly, his blend of sounds occasionally reminds me of what we used to call “soft rock,” yet without any of the cheese or schmaltz that might be associated with the genre. Amen is incapable of being insincere, it seems, and that makes all the difference.
Diles Que No Me Maten - Escrito En Aqua (Moonlight Activities) Though this Mexican band, whose name means, “Tell them not to kill me,” has been releasing music since at least 2020, this third full-length is the first I’ve heard of them. It’s a wonderfully varied collection, too, with a touch of theater provided by interludes of mournful jazz led by the clarinet of Jerónimo García Elizondo, who also plays guitar. Amidst those are songs of dense post-punk, sometimes with a touch of Tricky’s grime, art rock ballads, and others with a folk-like simplicity. It may be hard to describe, but Elizondo and his compatriots (Jonás A.D.C - voice, guitar, alto sax, harmonica; Andrés Lupone - bass, Mellotron; Gerardo Ponce Ramirez -guitar, synth; Raúl Ponce Ramirez - drums, percussion; and Alain Derbéz - soprano sax) know exactly what they want. You’ll soon find yourself wanting it, too.
Debit - Potpourri (NAAFI) Following up the “immersive environments of sound” of last year’s Desaceleradas, Delia Beatriz has assembled a nonstop celebration—albeit one tinged with a dark violence—of rhythm, with one track after another moving at breakneck pace. Even when the percussion drops away, as in Environmentofattention, the propulsion never ceases, with synth patterns keeping things moving. Only on the hornet’s swarm of the penultimate track, Ididn’tasktobebornlatina, does Debit put the beats on hold, with their lack only making it a more powerful statement.
Carlos Ferreira - a failure may be imminent and cause unpredictable error (Lighten Up Sounds). The last time I spotted this Brazilian guitarist and producer, he was working as a member of an improvisatory quartet called Bloooom, whose 2024 album Dew Life struck “a perfect balance between synthetic and analog elements.” Now he’s back on his own, with guitar and synth subject to manipulations in sound that are certainly unpredictable, as each track pulls you deeper into the environment being created, but with no sign of failure. Absolutely gorgeous, transporting stuff.
Drew Wesely / Laura Cocks / Camilo Ángeles / Lester St. Louis / Carlo Costa - A Fine Chance For Permanence (Dinzu Artefacts) For the first couple of listens, this collection of improvisations by some of the most impressive players around (Camilo Ángeles and Laura Cocks – flutes; Lester St. Louis – cello; Drew Wesely – bowed/prepared guitar; and Carlo Costa – percussion) felt wayward. But as I let the expectations I had fall away, it gradually assembled a shape, or shapes, with each track taking a natural form more reminiscent of flora than fauna. Lovely music, which will reframe what you think either of those words mean.
Note: The graphic above is based on a photo by Martha Maya.

Comments
Nothing yet. Say the first thing.
Sign in to join the conversation.