X2000 - G​ó​tico Tropical LP (2024) (Full Album)

Описание: (00:00) Mangones, 1962
(02:48) El Linaje
(03:55) Morbo y Fascinación
(05:13) Fragmentar El Futuro
(08:03) Casa Tomada
(09:39) Azul Culpa
(11:54) Tren De Aragua
(12:52) Hedonia Depresiva


You would believe that the name X2000 refers to some sort of antique 80’s game console or some other nerdy shit but you’d be wrong it is actually a high-speed Swedish train. That’s Trivia for you.
X2000 are indeed from Sweden although the person responsible for the snottiness is actually from Colombia hence the lyrics in Spanish and that distinctive vocal pattern. This album may not sound as macabre as the EP, but it is more direct, aggressive and appears to be not unlike a punk detector. If you have real love for punk music it will certainly make you want to jump around and do a silly pogo dance or, if you are too old and have a bad back, get the feet tapping faster than usual. The music is rooted in old-school Latino punk, especially Mexican bands from the mid and late 80’s, with that typical tupa tupa punk beat and straight-forward songwriting that has made a glorious comeback in our circles in the past years. However if it is reminiscent of HEREJIA, SECTA SUICIDA 20 or MELI, the primitive rabioso sonido is filtered through a chorus-drenched guitar sound and some weirdo punk transitions that goes well with the snotty punk songwriting, gives the listener the impression that s/he is actually on shrooms and conveys an atmosphere of dementia. Get the studs, the glue bag and the straightjacket, it’s time to punk out.
(Romain / Terminal Sound Nuisance)

X2000 is Cesar, Isse, Love, Daniel

Recorded at Ljudvalvet by Lauri Nyberg & Thomas Frank.
Mixed by Lauri Nyberg.
Master by Daniel Hussayn, North London Bomb Factory.

𝘽͟𝙖͟𝙣͟𝙙͟ 𝙣͟𝙤͟𝙩͟𝙚͟:

This is the land of tropical gothic, of danceable stabbings and gore capitalism.
In this land, serial killers do not hide; they walk in broad daylight, cloaked in impunity, free to roam in a country that breeds them and shelters them. This is the land of murders without culprits, of anonymous graves, of terror cultivated like sugarcane and sown with hands stained in blood. Because Colombia has a history of everyday horrors passed down from generation to generation, a genetic code of fear that has taken root in the flesh of its inhabitants. And in this tropical gothic, the heroes are made of paper, figures that the press tears apart and patches up again, while killers leave their trail of ashes. This is the country where death wears the mask of a politician, a landowner, a guerrilla, a soldier. Here, life is worth less than a whisper in the wind, and the rivers bear witness to the most macabre tales of blood and abandonment.
Here, where not even Nosferatu dares to come.