Crazy, spastic electronic music isn't for everyone. There's no discernable melody and the progressions are as predictable as the Tea Party. But what El Socialismo lacks in predictability -- or any form of coherency, for that matter -- it makes up with sheer talent.
The beats and drops are powerful and perfectly placed, bouncing and bopping all over the place. This is musical anarchy at it's finest, with a huge middle finger to anyone who likes their music with a 4/4 rock beat, a sing-along chorus and a Diet Coke.
The 15-track aural slaughterfest opens with "K9D": a four-minute digital ditty that sounds like it was manufactured and hammered into place by a fleet of robots. It's dark and thorny, with layers upon layers of truly "electronic" sounds.
But that machine-like sensation doesn't stop with "K9D" -- it seeps into nearly every crevice of the album. "100100010000100000" and "1970 Was a Hard Year" sound like a manufacturing line in a massive factory. What makes the El Socialism so alluring, however, is its identity. It's chaotic and ruthless and schizophrenic, but it's very in-tune with its own direction and purpose. This is music to blast while running on the treadmill, or cruising down the highway, or under the influence of any pill with a smiley face on it.
Ultimately, nonnon's biggest strength is also its biggest weakness. You have to be in the right mood to get mind-raped by digital robot music. This isn't something to unwind to after a long day of work, or to play softly at night while you fall asleep. The album's replay value is a tad on the novelty side, unless you're the type of person who is almost always coming down from something.
If that's the case, grab a friend or two and a few bottles of water.