Skip to content
Over three years ago the band Barcelona entered the studio to record what was originally planned as a double LP. As the genius that they are, they managed to record around 25 minutes of their trademark “extremo Nihilismo” sound. A high concept sonic vomit somewhere between CRO MAGNON, ISKRA, NO TREND and PETRA DE FENETRA. Comfortably sitting on the crossing between hi-brow conceptual art and low-brow delinquency. In the intersection where the EXPLOITED meet the Incus catalogue as if Tony Oxley and Ian Brighton were jamming with Wattie and Big John. The recording was eventually (and conceptually it seems) split into two records. The first one being “Un Último Ultrasonido Nació Y Murió En Barcelona” (MUS138, 2017) and the second one “Residuos Del Ultrasonido” released now a mere three years later. Loads could be written about the painful process between both records but let’s just focus on the recording and be clear: Residuos pisses all over its predecessor. The songs are full of spite and power with the level of vileness reaching new levels on this eight track 7” EP. Listen to Higiene or Salvajes and tell me they are not some of the best Barcelona songs ever. As always, artwork taken care by Oriol Roca, a person I look forward to never hearing from again.
Our take: Barcelona remains one of the wildest and most innovative bands in the world, creating punk rock that edges right up to the cliff of “completely unlistenable” without ever falling over. There are moments I love on records like Wretched’s In Nome Del Loro Potere Tutto E' Stato Fatto... EP or Negazione’s split with Declino when I wonder if the band is playing in time with one another or whether some or all of them have lost the plot. While, for bands who pursue tightness as a goal, this can be a deflating moment, a handful of bands thrive in this under-explored zone between order and chaos, and Barcelona is one of the best of them. Not that Resuduous del Ultrasonido is a mess… “Me Jode La Felicidad” even has a little of melody to it, sort of like Wretched’s later stuff circa La Tua Morte Non Aspetta. However, most of what you’ll hear on this record blurs the line between “toddler temper tantrum” and “musical performance.” This isn’t for everyone, but I love it.