It’s amazing what you learn from reviewing rock ‘n’ roll records.
Take this one – Borracho’s sixth – there’ll be some clever clogs out there who know “Ouroboros” is (and I’m quoting the dictionary here) “a circular symbol depicting a snake, or less commonly a dragon, swallowing its tail, as an emblem of wholeness or infinity.” I didn’t.
I was also unaware that it’s used as an ancient emblem of destruction – and that’s what interests us here.
You see, the three-piece – who hail from Washington, DC, so probably see it daily – use these seven tracks to launch a blistering attack on the hell that is 2025.
“Vegas Baby” begins it all, with Scott sneering “city of sin, you can never win,” and maybe that’s the metaphor for everything here: the cards are stacked against us, and the house will never be poor.
Of course, this is Borracho, and that means first and foremost it’s a brilliant slab of hard rock. As I’ve noted when reviewing their albums before, it’s the kind of thing that gets lazily labelled “stoner” by people who have no idea what that actually means – but this is more than that.
There’s an unsettling air to the brilliant “Succubus”, and the groove from Mario and Tim (like Cher, these boys don’t need surnames) is sensational. There’s even a touch of Alice in Chains here.
Mostly, though, it’s about driving riffs – albeit raw as hell on parts of “Lord of Suffering”. It’s a long track, though, so it goes wherever it wants.
Things get psychedelic on the trippy, slow build of “Veil of Tears”. An instrumental, it serves as a sort of centrepiece for the album, merging into “Machine Is the Master” – and anyone convinced the end of the world is being hastened by ChatGPT might find their worldview reinforced. In happier news, the screeching solo here might just be the start of the fightback.
“Freakshow” might well be about the road behind where I work, but unless Borracho have been lurking around North Birmingham, it’s more likely aimed at social media. Either way, both are horrible.
And the grooves don’t stop. That street I mentioned? It’s less than two miles from where Iommi chopped the end of his finger off and invented a new sound.
In the wake of Ozzy’s death, it’s tempting to view everything through the prism of Sabbath – but listening to “Broken Man”, I doubt Borracho would mind the comparison.
If the ouroboros represents infinity, then may I suggest that the decay they’re singing about will end long before the music on Ouroboros ever does.
Rating: 8.5/10
