Before I took a minute to look at the digipak liner of Chilean groovers At Devil Dirt’s self-titled Corvus Discos debut, I listened to the record just to get a feel for the songs and said to myself at more than one point, “Ah, okay, another bass and drum duo.” Already in my head I was making comparisons to the likes of Om and Olde Growth, trying to place the Santiago twosome in between them somehow, maybe taking the ritual from one and the rock from the other. But then I went ahead and translated the line “En este álbum no fueron grabadas pistas de bajo,” and discovered that, contrary to (nearly) every impression the 12 cuts on At Devil Dirt give, there’s no bass anywhere on the record. Guitarist Néstor Ayala (also vocals) runs his guitar through a bass rig, sure enough, and the tone of it, the rich low end, was enough to fool me. On a track like “Mar Gris,” he and drummer Francisco Alvarado are the consummate rhythm section, and as there are so few parts where higher register guitar notes are used, I just assumed it wasn’t there my first couple times through. Immediate kudos there.

Another surprise came in the form of Ayala’s vocals, which proffer an unexpected melodicism and add a psychedelic feel to many of the tracks with a wide range and varied clean approach. Four of the 12 songs are sung in English and the rest in Spanish, and in either language, Ayala manages to bring forth catchy hooks and memorable lines, whether it’s the uptempo earlier cut “Rockanrolla” or the Soundgarden-esque chorus of “No Pude Ver el Sol.” It’s a contrast between the vocals and the guitar playing out across the material, but it works really well right from opener “No Puedo Mas,” and At Devil Dirt manage to make their sonic heft an effective backdrop for Ayala’s vocal layering, as on “You Know It,” where I was actually missing a guitar for thinking these were bass tracks, wondering what playful Josh Homme-style lead flourishes might sound like over Alvarado’s hi-hat work in the verses, which reminded of Queens of the Stone Age’s Songs for the Deaf. Likewise, on the more drum-driven “She’s Not Mine,” Ayala plays up the “Tomorrow Never Knows” frenetic rhythm with a one-man call and response that leads into one of At Devil Dirt’s most infectious choruses.

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