Svdestada – Candela

Early in 2021, the Spanish band Svdestada managed to demolish everything in their path with their second album, Azabache. The blackened crust manifesto of these Madrid-based punks was one of my favorite albums of the year, providing a creative and emotional breath of fresh air to a genre that often plays it safe. The arrival of its successor back in January 2024 was, for me personally, the first major milestone in a tumultuous year in music.

Their third album, titled Candela (which translates to “Candle”), leaves behind the tar-like darkness of its predecessor in favor of crimson hues. Svdestada imbue fiery passion and sinks deeper into their distinctive musical world, delivering their best work to date. However, Candela isn’t just an excellent modern and dark crust punk album. Over its 34-minute runtime, it presents a highly engaging amalgamation of sounds, culminating in an aesthetic that exudes profound emotion while empowering listeners with its sincerity. Each musical theme across the album’s seven tracks leaves a mark, showing that there is still room for music in this genre that is both enjoyable and familiar, yet musically compelling.

Thus, Svdestada release a record that resonates with a broader audience than those who might merely read genre tags and stop there. Once again, the band honors the blackened crust explorations of groups like Ancst and Downfall Of Gaia, blending them with authentic Spanish emocrust as defined by legendary acts like Ictvs, Ekkaia, and Madame Germen. Naturally, their emotionally charged metallic hardcore moments, especially in the rhythmic sections, bring to mind bands like Svalbard or later neocrust acts such as Alpinist, Tenue, and Habak. These references to “labels” serve only as a map of associations and allusions to Svdestada’s music.

The essence of the emotionally demanding Candela lies in its ability to meet the expectations generated by enthusiastic descriptions or a superficial listen. Tracks like the impressive “Amargor” are prime examples of blackened neocrust, differing in that their modern approach transcends merely imposing d-beat riffs or suffocating leads. It’s the transitions, the development of themes, and the incredible vocals that heighten the despair—or the furious hope for upheaval. Songs like “Efímero,” with its subtle dissonances, bring modern black metal to the knees of realism, while “Hilonegro” plunges into the post-black ocean with blast beats and evocative guitars, searching for a way out of stifling social realities.

The album concludes with its eleven-minute titular track, which evokes the structure and atmosphere of Converge’s “Jane Doe.” Svdestada close the record with an intensely epic moment, fully utilizing the song’s runtime to illuminate the “mystery” of how such a seemingly “rigid” genre can still captivate. The sense of freedom and the endless roaming through unconventional, uncompromising fields transform into charged atmospheres that allow a glimmer of light to pierce the darkness.

On Candela, Svdestada sound familiar yet different. At a time when the doctrine of progress demands a constant march toward a future that forgets and dismisses the past, the band’s “evolution” becomes possible precisely because they honor the influences and music they love. Their third album is a modern extreme musical work that, from the first notes of the relentless opener “Nudo,” can transport you from shadowy alleyways to the moon, and from gazing at a star-filled sky to the imagined prison of your own room. It’s an album that communicates fragility and vulnerability, while spreading understanding, solidarity, and passion. Beginning with blackened crust and placing equal emphasis on emotional depth and technical prowess, these Spaniards have crafted a masterpiece—renewing unwavering faith in the liberating power of crust punk, in all its forms, but especially this one.

A Greek version of this review was published on Rocking.gr.