Some have argued that the art form went out of style back in the ‘80s: that it has become nothing but a washed-out shadow of its past self, no longer containing either fire or fury. Others still reckon it simply cannot connect with world-weary modern audiences, punters who see Johnny Rotten more as a bloated early morning TV talking head than the renegade figure he once was.
But those already trying to close the coffin lid on punk would do well to check out Spain’s Bala. The vicious two-piece, an uncompromising act comprised of Anxela Baltar and Violeta Mosquera, are a counterpoint to all those ready to argue punk is in stasis. There’s nothing apologetic or half-measured about their music – given they have released songs with titles like Human Flesh, how could there be? No, Bala are far from being pumped-up poseurs: rather, they are one of the most thrilling rising acts in the worldwide punk scene.
Given their anarchic attitude, it makes sense that they have a singularly uncomplicated process when it comes to making music. “Our idea when we start composing records [is] simply to do something loud and powerful,” Baltar explains. “We have no greater pretensions: we only know we want to thunder. The rest we leave in the hands of the producer.”
The result is a record like Lume, an unforgiving assemblage of garage rock riffs and brutal, unsophisticated pleasures; all glazed with blood, gore and four-chord choruses. Indeed, although Bala’s sonic homages are evident – they have clearly spent equal time before the altars of both The Ramones and Black Sabbath – it’s also apparent from very first listen that they also draw a great deal of strength from horror cinema.
There’s something distinctly Mario Bava-esque about a song like Colmillos: something that brings to mind black-gloved killers and Giallo blood splatters. “We both love cinema,” Baltar says. “Somehow I think horror movies can reflect our sound very well.”
That love of the ghoulish is also reflected in the band’s truly grotesque music videos – bloody, dark affairs, all moodily lit and reeking with murderous intent. “Each of our videos has a special story. Human Flesh was the first and we really enjoyed recording it. Then there is also Freedom Is, which is animated. We love it. We also have a video for Joan Vollmer, which is a reminder of our visit to UK. And the most recent, Colmillos, is the first single from Lume – and that makes it very important for us.”
Yet in many ways it’s clear that no matter how much they might love their videos, Bala’s real driving force is playing live. That, after all, is where their music makes the most sense; the arena that it was born to be blasted in. A song like Joan Vollmer is designed to form moshpits, and each of their anthemic choruses was clearly written to be screamed back by an adoring audience.
And yet the true key to Bala’s onstage success is evidently their ability not to overthink things. Although some bands admit to spending hours on their setlists, fiddling and fine-tuning constantly, for Bala keeping audience energy maintained is clearly no big deal – when asked about how they go about crafting their sets, Baltar makes it sound like the easiest thing in the world
“At the moment we only have two records and both last a few minutes, around 20, so it’s not too difficult,” she explains. “Now what we do is play Lume from start to finish and then play the four or five songs that we like the most from Human Flesh, our first album. We like our concerts to be short and intense. We try to start and end with a really powerful song, and in the middle we play a little bit of everything.”
At its heart, constructing a good setlist is just a way of respecting your audience – and giving back to the people who love them is Bala’s modus operandi. “We find it very important to have direct contact with the people who listen to us,” Baltar says, happily. “After all, we owe them all.”
By Joseph Earp
