Well sharpened verb
Despite releasing the EP ‘Cuatro canciones’ in 2010, and right after that the single ‘Mil espejos/ Alarma nuclear’, it’d take untill landing in Barcelona a few years later when Saúl Ibañez’s one man project would shape into what today we know as Lullavy. Since then, the also writter (author of the poem books ‘El desierto’, ‘Ropa de diario’ and ‘Noventa pastillas’, as well as author of the essay ‘La violencia en Nick Cave’), belongs to a very solid three members combo, with fellow members Ernest Gómez (Salina, Wann) and Guillem Bonet (Mardemarmo).
Once establihed as trio, Lullavy released ‘Conjuro’ (Martinete) in 2014, a single that started a new era on punk rock straight to your face, and so concert after concert, they both oiled the bands engine as well as rised Ibáñez’s voice to the top, such as the main sail in a boat docking for the firts time at ‘Ruina’ (2017), the band’s first album. An intense post hardcore exercise with nerve and very well sharpened verb, a tracklist that seems to be written with treachery, straight to the bone, meant to hurt.
Record to which follows ‘Garabato’, the groups’ 2020 split album with yet another amazing rock band, Conjunto podenco. ‘Garabato’ is the coming together of twinned bands, however different. This is the shared universe between a group of friends who, with sensitivity and complementing one another have given us a splendid, heterogeneous piece of work that sounds as if it was produced by one entity. A Herculean task; an excellent album.
