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Con una ética más cercana al grafiti que al rock, Cleptómano toma lo descartado, lo censurado, lo olvidado, y lo rearma como quien construye una bomba casera con recortes de la historia. Todo lo que suena parece robado, y lo es: frases de poetas muertos, riffs destripados, voces que alguna vez dijeron algo y que acá se resignifican como gritos nuevos.
With an ethic closer to graffiti than rock, Cleptómano takes what's discarded, censored, and forgotten, and reassembles it like someone building a homemade bomb from scraps of history. Everything you hear sounds stolen, and it is: phrases from dead poets, gutted riffs, voices that once said something and are now reinterpreted as new screams.
With an ethic closer to graffiti than rock, Cleptómano takes what's discarded, censored, and forgotten, and reassembles it like someone building a homemade bomb from scraps of history. Everything you hear sounds stolen, and it is: phrases from dead poets, gutted riffs, voices that once said something and are now reinterpreted as new screams.
