Posted in Bootleg Theater on February 22nd, 2024 by JJ Koczan
Just when you think you’ve got “02Kid” figured out, that’s when the keyboard hits. The first time I heard it, I thought a song started playing in a different browser tab or something, but no, it’s there, and as the emergently amorphous Buenos Aires-based outfit headed by Sergio Chotsourian (aka Sergio Ch.) move on from their 2023 fifth LP, La Rendición Del Hombre (review here), the new song comes coupled with word of a re-revamped lineup that brings Gaston Gullo to the drummer role and finds Chotsourian on bass and vocals alone, where the album also featured his work on guitar.
Change is nothing new for Ararat, and if you count the violin added to La Rendición Del Hombre by Federico Terranova or 2022’s Volumen IV (review here), this isn’t their first time as a duo either. As Chotsourian‘s post-Los Natas oeuvre has grown more experimental, from his acoustic-rooted solo work to varied projects like Ararat, Brno, Soldati, and so on, it’s not really a surprise to see that show up in Ararat‘s sound as it arguably has since their 2009 debut, Musica de la Resistencia (review here) — though that creative reach has gotten broader — but what is new here is the shape that takes. Stripped to its barest parts in bass and drums, much of “02Kid” feels like a rehearsal demo that effectively resets the band. They’ve gone to ground, aurally speaking.
But that’s fair enough too when the context is so open. That is to say, Chotsourian has covered a lot of ground with Ararat, from some of his heaviest, most doomed work to-date to the rawer rumble of Volumen IV, which feels relevant here in terms of the bass/drums construction of the band and a similar focus on low end and nod at the foundation. As to how “02Kid” might speak to what to expect from Ararat going forward, I won’t hazard a guess. It could be “02Kid” is part of an album already in the can — it would make a great candidate for the second of however many tracks included — or it could be a one-off to test out the chemistry of the Chotsourian/Gullo collaboration. All I know is it’s five minutes of new Ararat, there’s a video, and you’ll find it below.
It’s wait and see beyond that, but Chotsourian is prolific enough that it never seems egregiously long to find out where he’s headed next. Until then, enjoy:
Ararat, “02Kid” official video
VIDEO OFICIAL DEL NUEVO SINGLE DE ARARAT – 02KID PRODUCIDO POR SERGIO CH. VIDEO REALIZADO POR SERGIO CH.
Posted in Reviews on August 2nd, 2023 by JJ Koczan
Of all the projects Buenos Aires-based auteur Sergio Chotsourian might visit in a given year, between the heavy rocking Soldati, his solo work as Sergio Ch., the gothy Brno, releases through South American Sludge Records, archival whatnot from his time fronting Los Natas, various collaborations — hell, he even has two books out — Ararat is probably the most open in terms of scope. It can be just about anything. He takes advantage of this on the band’s fifth long-player, La Rendición Del Hombre, which arrives on a quick turnaround from 2022’s Volumen 4 (review here) and is issued through Interstellar Smoke and South American Sludge.
Already, when the project began with 2009’s Musica de la Resistencia (review here) on MeteorCity, Ararat were a departure. Those used to seeing Chotsourian on guitar might’ve been surprised to find bass as his main instrument, and the weighted lurching atmospheres were fleshed out with experimentalist fervor, arrangements of piano and so on for a folkish sensibility drawn from his own Armenian roots and meshed with influences picked up along the way.
In the almost 14 years since that first offering, Ararat have never been the same thing twice, and sure enough, the five songs and 34 minutes of La Rendición Del Hombre lives up to that standard of unpredictability. Chotsourian — who produced, mixed and mastered at Death Studios and handles guitar, bass, keys and vocals where applicable — pairs with violinist Federico Terranova as the only other contributor to the record. With no drums behind them and minimal percussion otherwise, the two dive into acoustic folk instrumentalism on opener “Ramen de Cordero” (2:56) and the centerpiece “Zulma Fadjat” (3:13) and work in a similar vein on the concluding title-track (4:02), but with a particularly emotive vocal from Chotsourian accompanying.
These pieces are offset by two extended cuts, dubbed “Eleven” (11:03) and “Twelve” (13:06), so that the procession alternates from short to long, each adding to the depth of what came before it. The hard-strummed style of guitar and raw sound that begins “Ramen de Cordero” will likely ring familiar with those who know Chotsourian‘s solo output — his latest LP is 2022’s The Red Rooster (discussed here) — and when it enters early, Terranova‘s violin is not at all out of place in winding itself around that guitar progression. I would believe the violin was improvised, if not the guitar, but the immediately, the feel is exploratory. As with all of La Rendición Del Hombre, the lack of drums makes it somewhat anchorless, but that’s very clearly part of the intention, for both the three shorter songs and the two epics sandwiched between them.
Immersion is the goal, as much perhaps for Chotsourian and Terranova as for their audience. “Ramen de Cordero” is rhythmic thanks to the noted hard strum of guitar, but comes across as a meditative path one is supposed to follow, something lost waiting to be found that turns out not to be tangible at all. The magic was in you, or at least in the strings of the instruments. A decidedly plugged rumble of low end starts “Eleven,” quiet and with flourish of guitar alongside, leading to a thicker distortion and an organ drone after the first two minutes. The impression is spacious even as the music itself is an intimate, individualized drone folk; something Chotsourian has done before in bringing together styles traditional and adventurous, but never quite in this way. “Eleven” cycles through again, this time with the organ under the quiet bass — continuity! — and a return of the vocals only in the last minute as the track slow-marches itself out.
Organ is the last element to fade out of “Eleven,” and the strike of guitar at the beginning of “Zulma Fadjat” feels like a purposeful reorientation. This time, Terranova follows the guitar closer, following its angular weaving pattern before taking off into soloist revelry. The sound is folk instrumental — celebratory music, but with a darker undertone — with the violin creating a sense of nostalgia as only it could, and no real room for vocals anyway in its memorable course, less improv-feeling than was “Ramen de Cordero” and showing that in a cold finish from Terranova and Chotsourian together.
Both “Eleven” and “Twelve” remind of 2012’s II (review here) in form and structure, the bass and vocal melody, though there are noteworthy differences of arrangement and execution. Still, with the low tone of Chotsourian‘s bass returning, it is a mode-switch easily made, and where 11 years ago, songs like “Caballos” or “La Ira del Dragon (Uno)” would have kicked in with full-on weight and doomly nod, “Twelve” follows suit from its predecessor in meeting the denser tone with organ, seeming to pick up the march from the end of “Eleven” where it left off and moving it forward into patient resonance, vocal drawl and a stop that brings acoustic (I think) guitar not to solo as one might imagine, but to reside deep in the mix and feel its way through a Caucasus-esque, East-leaning movement before the march resumes.
Another pointed strum and maybe that same guitar part — only backward — returns as the less-distorted bass makes its way through the quieter last of “Twelve” five or so parts, taking the place of organ and becoming a rhythmic focal point. There’s a spoken vocal or a sample that might be Chotsourian, Terranova, or someone else entirely, that gives over to the noted backwards guitar near its transition into “La Rendición Del Hombre,” which comes across like a moment of arrival for the record in putting Chotsourian‘s voice and Terranova‘s violin together where neither “Ramen de Cordero” nor “Zulma Fadjat” did so, and that turns out to be the place to which La Rendición Del Hombre has been leading all along: an atmospheric, melancholy contemplation of melody, layered vocals starting at 2:32, consistent with what came before it but organically extrapolated further and skillfully placed as the final destination of the shifting approach, letting the emotion of Chotsourian‘s voice and the inherently wistful violin serve as the ‘heavy’ where “Eleven” and “Twelve” might have conjured a wall of tone.
I suppose La Rendición Del Hombre is an experimental release, or at least it would be for the relative few artists who’d be brave enough to compose and issue it, but Chotsourian is at home in either volume context, and while it’s easy to imagine “Eleven” or “Twelve” revisited in a full-band arrangement at some time in the future, their interpretation here draws a line between Ararat and Chotsourian‘s solo fare in a way that hasn’t been done before and that should be appreciated by those who’ve followed his output for however long. Newcomers who don’t mind getting a little weird (and sad) should have no trouble though, but those seeking a more heavy rock-based sound might consider Volumen 4 or 2014’s Cabalgata Hacia la Luz (review here), but however one approaches it, La Rendición Del Hombre reinforces the project’s capacity for breadth and is a standout example among many of Chotsourian‘s forward-thinking craft.
[Click play above to stream Ararat’s Volumen 4 in full. It’s out this week through South American Sludge with limited vinyl to follow on Argonauta Records.]
When Buenos Aires’ Ararat rode into the light on their third album, Cabalgata Hacia la Luz (review here), in 2014, the band seemed to drift away. Fronted by former Los Natas guitarist/vocalist Sergio Chotsourian — who played bass and piano in addition to guitar — the band’s advent with 2009’s Musica de la Resistencia (review here) had been a revelation of creative expanse, finding new character in Chotsourian‘s songwriting and a denser tonality in the new trio. 2012’s II (review here) grew broader still, incorporating longer tracks for all the more a sense of immersion in the increasingly atmospheric craft. Cabalgata Hacia la Luz pulled back from that somewhat, as by 2014, Chotsourian — aka Sergio Ch. — had begun exploring the solo work that would consume much of the rest of the decade for him creatively even as another rock trio, Soldati, began to take shape and move toward their own debut. Though some of Ararat‘s songs appeared in redone form as solo pieces and vice versa, the trio that had settled on the lineup of Chotsourian, guitarist/keyboardist Tito Fargo and drummer Alfredo Felitte (who also joined Soldati for a time) seemed to be done. Obviously this impression was mistaken. Sort of.
Ararat circa 2022 is reignited as a duo, with Chotsourian and drummer Jorge Araujo as its lone occupants, and Volumen 4 marks the group’s first outing in eight years, collecting six songs across 36 sometimes plodding, sometimes reaching minutes, its ideas seeming to find a summary in the penultimate “Thor Hammer,” which layers in keyboards along with the bass and drums, and is willing to both roll out the record’s most elephantine instrumental progression and long, patient stretches of minimalist rumble. It is a different sound than anything Ararat have put forth to-date, and fair enough since it’s a different construction than the band has ever had before. Still, as “Fiebre” lurches to life at Volumen 4‘s outset backed by synth or theremin swirl before shifting into its bass/drum march of a verse, there are of course some recognizable elements, namely Sergio Ch.‘s gritty vocals, sometimes layered, and the style of the progressions he and Araujo are bringing to life. Compared to Los Natas — which was at the time the only other comparison point for Chotsourian‘s output — Ararat was more doom in tempo and attitude, but also more exploratory, with piano pieces and other experiments fleshed out as full-band realizations.
To some degree, Volumen 4 continues this ethic, but it doesn’t feel like anything so much as a new beginning. Whether it is or not isn’t something that can be known at this point, but what Ararat do as “Fiebre” chugs through its second half and the shorter, speedier “Microcosmos” sets its tinny snare drum toward more stamping punctuations is to reset the mission and general purpose of the band in the first place. Perhaps it’s fair that after eight years and a remaking of the band that Volumen 4should come across as a debut, bolstered in that regard by the willful rawness of its production and the digging-in-and-seeing-where-it-goes vibe of “Microcosmos” or the accordingly lumbering “Serpiente,” which follows.
Those who might wonder why Chotsourian didn’t simply start another project for these songs — that is, make it another band instead of calling it Ararat — might find an answer in “Serpiente,” which finds Araujo‘s loose swing connected in thrillingly tenuous fashion to the slow bass riff. Even without the additional keyboard or guitar layers of II or Cabalgata Hacia la Luz, it is like the bones and muscle of what Ararat was before, and in the second half, as the drums drop out behind the vocal echoes and standalone bassline, it’s a feel that will only be familiar to those who heard the band in their prior incarnation.
And to anyone who didn’t? One assumes it’s that much easier to make the leap into the shifts in approach without the context of the past records. “Birdy” picks up somewhat faster than “Serpiente,” playing off the alternating tempos of “Fiebre” and “Microcosmos” earlier, and features a standout riff, farther back drumming and a fuller sound with Chotsourian‘s vocals out front. Drones and more maybe-theremin return at the finish — could be a Space Echo or some such — but the shift into “Thor Hammer” is smooth enough to feel purposeful. The aforementioned pre-closer begins quiet but announces its intention toward sonic fullness with a snare hit to begin its full-on roll at about a minute in. It is as immersive as Ararat get on this fourth long-player, and that’s thanks in no small part to the keyboard line that drones out alongside the bass and drums, adding melody to the early going, dropping out as Araujo and Chotsourian dutifully march toward through the midsection, and returning for much of the second cycle until the drums also depart, leaving the bass to hold sway until it too seems to disintegrate ahead of the more immediate launch of “Mandy” at the finish.
One assumes there’s some relation to the high-body-count Nicolas Cage 2018 feature film, since Chotsourian makes a kind of sinister hook out of the repeated line “You’re about to die,” but it’s even more notable that the lyrics to the closer are in English. That may or may not be a first for Ararat — I think it is — but Sergio Ch. has always been comfortable departing Spanish periodically in his various projects, so it could hardly be called out of line. After “Thor Hammer,” the pattern of Volumen 4would suggest it’s time for something faster, so naturally “Mandy” instead pushes deeper into the low-end abyssal zone, its lyrical threat met by a lurch that enhances the impression and feels tied to “Serpiente” earlier, capping the album without more fanfare than that, and keeping the raw sensibility that defines so much of what’s happening throughout Volumen 4 intact even while swapping one language for another in another, admittedly less subtle than some, turn.
For being relatively unexpected, this fourth Ararat LP is not at all unwelcome, and whether it’s a one-off or a new start for the band, what matters is that it continues to push against expectation for what they do. These many years later, that’s only worth appreciating more as a consistent factor in the band’s persona.
To call the guy prolific doesn’t even really do justice. Sergio Chotsourian, frontman of Soldati, formerly of Ararat and Los Natas, has already in the last year overseen the release of a box set of his first three solo albums done under his chosen moniker Sergio Ch., as well as a trilogy of solo singles, the debut of the trio BRNO (review here) late in 2020 and more. He’s got more waiting to come out too. “Desde el Adentro” was first posted in April and already he’s got a new song on the South American Sludge Records Bandcamp page in the seven-minute instrumental take on BRNO‘s “You Are the Moon” re-dubbed “Soy Luna Soy God.” I have a tendency to admire work ethic, and Chotsourian‘s creative pulse beats fast.
“Desde el Adentro” is a partial departure from his solo fare. Not for being produced, recorded, performed and topped with cover art by Chotsourian himself so much as by pushing deeper into South American folk stylings than he’s gone since his first solo record, 1974 (review here). The progression of his craft in the five-plus years since has been toward an experimentalist blend of drone, electric and acoustic guitar topped generally but not always with his vocals, and “Desde el Adentro” is comparatively minimal. Guy-and-guitar. It may be that Chotsourian will rework the song in some form down the line — it could end up anywhere and for all I know it already has and there’s another recording in the can waiting to come out on one or another album-to-be — but for now, the mostly-subdued, contemplative feel suits the melody well and plays to a traditionalism Chotsourian often engages but rarely so directly.
I’ve done any number of premieres for Sergio Ch. and his bands over the last however long. Simple reason is I believe in what he’s doing. I dig it, and though I’ve followed his career for the better part of two decades at this point, he still manages to offer up surprises on the regular. This is one of them.
So please enjoy:
Sergio Ch., “Desde el Adentro” official video premiere
VIDEO OFICIAL DEL SINGLE DE SERGIO CH. – “DESDE EL ADENTRO” VIDEO REALIZADO POR SERGIO CH.
SERGIO CH. – DESDE EL ADENTRO [S.A.S. 118]
SERGIO CH. – GUITARRA & VOCALS
GRABADO, MEZCLADO Y MASTERIZADO POR SERGIO CH. EN DEATH STUDIOS ARTWORK POR SERGIO CH. PRODUCIDO POR SERGIO CH.
Drone folk has kind of become the bread and melted butter of Sergio Chotsourian‘s solo work as Sergio Ch., but the new 10-minute single “Manto Negro” brings the two sides together in especially coherent fashion. Atop waves of organ and minimal guitar lead lines about four minutes into the proceedings, the vocals are a procession unto themselves; melodic and downtrodden-feeling without melodrama. I’d be surprised if this is the last incarnation this song will have, since Chotsourian has a tendency to revisit material and offer different interpretations through various recordings and outfits — his current trio, Soldati, released their debut album, Doom Nacional (review here), amid the global panic of Spring 2020 — and there seems to be plenty of ground to explore here. As it is, however, the immersion is palpable.
The song cycles through twice and makes short work of the 10 minutes it consumes. Organ is constant, but the guitar comes and goes, trading off with the vocals. Self-recorded, mixed and mastered, not to mention released, “Manto Negro” is a solo effort in the purest sense, and it has an intimacy to coincide.
…I’m gonna be honest with you. I firmly believe that the only reason you don’t hear Chotsourian‘s name in the same breath as people like Dylan Carlson is because he’s from Argentina. I’m not trying to belittle Carlson‘s history or Earth in saying that, but if Sergio Ch. was working in English and was a white dude from wherever, people would be lining up to fawn over his shit, critics included. I can think few songwriters in a heavy sphere who have a mindset as genuinely open and forward thinking as he does. Sorry, that’s just how I see it. He’s a key figure in South American heavy, and South American heavy is some of the world’s finest.
I got all wound up. I’ll take a deep breath and count to four. You enjoy the track:
Sergio Ch., “Manto Negro” official video
VIDEO OFICIAL DEL SINGLE DE SERGIO CH. – “MANTO NEGRO” PRODUCIDO POR SERGIO CH. VIDEO REALIZADO POR SERGIO CH.
[S.A.S. 115]
SERGIO CH. – GUITARRA, PIANO & VOCALS
GRABADO, MEZCLADO Y MASTERIZADO POR SERGIO CH. EN DEATH STUDIOS ARTWORK POR SERGIO CH. PRODUCIDO POR SERGIO CH.
At the time it came out four years ago in 2015, Sergio Ch.‘s first solo album, 1974 (review here), seemed to take shape directly from out of the third offering from his band Ararat, 2014’s Cabalgata Hacia la Luz (review here). The two shared several tracks, among them “La Familia y las Guerras,” and both had an overarching purpose in introspection, an intimate feel that manifested in experimentalist-tinged folk in one and brash heavy punk/rock in the other. Still, they were linked, and with Sergio Chotsourian‘s songwriting at the epicenter, they held a consistency that went beyond whatever sonic disparities there may have been. Different appeal, same level of quality between them.
Chotsourian has since gone on to form the trio Soldati and begin to dole out singles and other short releases ahead of an eventual full-length, and he’s also put out the second acoustic-ish album, 2017’s Aurora (review here), as well as several collaborative efforts of various stripes, but I still break out 1974 on occasion, and songs like “La Familia y las Guerras” are a big part of why. Arrangement-wise, there’s nothing outlandish about it, and it’s not as drone even as some of the material on the subsequent full-length would be, but it carries a nonetheless open feel and is spacious thanks to a bit of echo while still staying intimate in a close-up-to-the-mic vocal-style from Chotsourian, who if he didn’t record it live certainly gives a convincing facsimile of having done so.
As to why now would be a time to make a video for a song on a record that was released so long ago, I’d only ask the obvious question: “Who cares?” In addition to the aforementioned and long-bandied Soldati long-player, there’s been word that Chotsourian will do another solo offering under his own name, and that will be something to look forward to, but in the meantime, why not shut up and take what one can get? If that’s going for a backwards walk in some hot-looking desert space, then so be it. One could, of course, do a lot worse, both in the video and in life generally.
I’ve also included the full 1974 stream below, in case it’s been a while.
Enjoy:
Sergio Ch., “La Familia y las Guerras” official video
VIDEO OFICIAL DEL DISCO DE SERGIO CH. – “1974” PRODUCIDO POR SERGIO CH. VIDEO REALIZADO POR MILAGROS ARROM Y LUCAS MARTINEZ
Posted in Bootleg Theater on January 30th, 2018 by JJ Koczan
I’ve made no attempt to hide my fandom for Buenos Aires trio Ararat in the past, and neither will I do so now. Still, it’s something of a surprise, maybe to have a new video from the Argentine group show up at this point. Their most recent album, Cabalgata Hacia la Luz (review here), was issued in 2014, and it’s been an another two years since their last clip showed up, that one for “Los Escombros de Jardin” (posted here). So what gives as regards the timing? Hell if I know. I’m just the guy who puts up posts. If you want scheduling, that’s a whole different department.
Of course, we know that Ararat frontman Sergio Chotsourian has kept plenty busy over the last several years between reissues from his former band, Los Natas, founding and developing the raw rock trio Soldati and embarking on a solo drone-folk career under his Sergio Ch. moniker across multiple releases. Add to that the fostering of continental output he does through his South American Sludge label and I guess it didn’t seem unreasonable to think Ararat were on the backburner at least for the time being if not permanently. One new video — this one for the track “El Camino del Mono” — doesn’t necessarily change that, and it doesn’t mean there’s a new record in the works or anything like that, but hell, at least it’s a signal that the band still exists. Bottom line is I’ll take it.
Ararat is comprised of Chotsourian on bass and vocals, guitarist Tito Fargo and drummer Alfredo Felitte. You can see “El Camino del Mono” below, and when/if I hear of more doings on the part of the band, I’ll keep you posted. you know the drill.
Enjoy the video in the meantime, and if you haven’t yet picked up Cabalgata Hacia la Luz, it’s never too late.
Dig:
Ararat, “El Camino del Mono” official video
New video premiere of Ararat “El Camino del mono”. directed by Martin Busacca!
VIDEO OFICIAL DEL DISCO DE ARARAT – “CABALGATA HACIA LA LUZ” PRODUCIDO POR TITO FARGO VIDEO DIRIGIDO POR MARTIN BUSACCA
True, it might seem kind of curious that former Los Natas and current Soldati frontman Sergio Chotsourian would dip back to his 2015 debut solo album, 1974 (review here) and bring together a video for the track “La Historia de Hanuman” when in 2016 — working under his adopted Sergio Ch. moniker and releasing through his own South American Sludge Records imprint and Pirámide Records — he put out a follow-up, Aurora (review here). Generally one promotes the most recent release. My suspicion, however, is that the “La Historia de Hanuman” clip has been in the works for a while. Hand animation takes time, and it doesn’t seen unreasonable to think the second Sergio Ch. record happened while the process was ongoing.
As is my usual position when it comes to Chotsourian‘s work, I’ll take it as it comes. And frankly, I’m happy for the excuse to revisit 1974, which was an album filled with heartfelt personal emotionalism and grief expressed in raw acoustic fashion as well as an experimentalism and sonic range that Aurora only continued to broaden. Sharing some of its tracks — including “La Historia de Hanuman” — with Cabalgata Hacia la Luz (review here), the third full-length from the Chotsourian-led trio Ararat, 1974 found its maker coping with the loss of a parent and telling stories from his own life in a way that no one else could. I don’t speak the language, but those songs — once again, including “La Historia de Hanuman” — remain poignant and memorable. I expect they will be a part of Chotsourian‘s repertoire going forward no matter where his progression as a songwriter might lead him. Rightly so.
You’ll pardon me if I leave the credits for the video in their original Spanish. I think even if you don’t really speak the language you can probably figure out what they say, and somehow it seems more appropriate than translating this time around.
Enjoy:
Sergio Ch. “La Historia de Hanuman” official video
VIDEO OFICIAL DEL DISCO DE SERGIO CH. – “1974” PRODUCIDO POR SERGIO CH. VIDEO REALIZADO POR JOAQUIN ZELAYA
