Drunken Sailor Records
Generacion Suicida - Regeneracion [IMPORT. BLACK VINYL.] - New LP
Regular price
$ 24.00
Generacion Suicida - Regeneracion LP. IMPORT. Likely, getting some inspiration from the U.K. (and L.A.) 4 decades ago while also clearly coming from a place deep within, and from deep within a community, and from a musical and cultural heritage millenials old, this music ringing out like a calling, a clarion call to the hordes of human crawling around on this planet, ringing out like a bell that calls you home. “Musica del barrio, para el barrio." Ring that bell loud. Originally released in demo form, in 2022 the band went into the studio and fully re-recorded the songs.
'What if Blitz hailed from Los Angeles and sang in Spanish’ isn’t
a question you hear all that often. Fortunately, we don’t need to ask - the answer is provided by Generacion Suicida’s latest album, which rages and rattles in all the right places, drenched in the memorable brilliance that powered the Killed By Death compilations (ask yer dad - and if he doesn’t know or care, burn his terrible records and make some space to track down the KBD LPs). The band’s slogan is ‘musica del barrio, para el barrio’ - music from the neighbourhood, for the neighbourhood - but it sounds like they could use these hooks to take on the world.
That’s a pretty accurate sentiment as well, because this album was written during the Covid-19 lockdown of 2020, while the world bubbled over with carefully managed misinformation, police violence and the sickening overspill of white supremacy’s foul brew. If Regeneracion sounds potent, it’s because there was a lot to be angry about, and the result is arguably their best album yet.
Those chorused-out guitar lines carry shades of deathrock, hints of Manchester circa 1980, elements of something you might call goth if it was several degrees less furious. But there’s no doomed romance to this music; it’s an all-out attack. Street punk with the smarts turned up and an ear turned to the lessons learned from post-punk (but crucially, not the ‘post-punk revival’ that is essentially shirtless beardy lads chanting non-sequiturs over landfill indie). Chiefly, it’ll make you wanna get out of your chair, unite your local community and march on down towards your government’s centre of operations with a simple-to-use molotov cocktail kit. Its rage is infectious. It’s inspired by bleak moments in our recent shared history, but it revels in humans’ capacity to find strength in each other. And the tunes? Oh damn, they’re good.'
Will Fitzpatrick.
'What if Blitz hailed from Los Angeles and sang in Spanish’ isn’t
a question you hear all that often. Fortunately, we don’t need to ask - the answer is provided by Generacion Suicida’s latest album, which rages and rattles in all the right places, drenched in the memorable brilliance that powered the Killed By Death compilations (ask yer dad - and if he doesn’t know or care, burn his terrible records and make some space to track down the KBD LPs). The band’s slogan is ‘musica del barrio, para el barrio’ - music from the neighbourhood, for the neighbourhood - but it sounds like they could use these hooks to take on the world.
That’s a pretty accurate sentiment as well, because this album was written during the Covid-19 lockdown of 2020, while the world bubbled over with carefully managed misinformation, police violence and the sickening overspill of white supremacy’s foul brew. If Regeneracion sounds potent, it’s because there was a lot to be angry about, and the result is arguably their best album yet.
Those chorused-out guitar lines carry shades of deathrock, hints of Manchester circa 1980, elements of something you might call goth if it was several degrees less furious. But there’s no doomed romance to this music; it’s an all-out attack. Street punk with the smarts turned up and an ear turned to the lessons learned from post-punk (but crucially, not the ‘post-punk revival’ that is essentially shirtless beardy lads chanting non-sequiturs over landfill indie). Chiefly, it’ll make you wanna get out of your chair, unite your local community and march on down towards your government’s centre of operations with a simple-to-use molotov cocktail kit. Its rage is infectious. It’s inspired by bleak moments in our recent shared history, but it revels in humans’ capacity to find strength in each other. And the tunes? Oh damn, they’re good.'
Will Fitzpatrick.