From Caracas, it’s Latin Rock’s freshest-faced new hope…

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[5.71]

Iain Mew: The vocals hit an awkward midpoint between emo snarl and indie softness that doesn’t work out. I’m more than willing to put up with that, because the guitars hit a fucking incredible midpoint between emo snarl and indie softness. It’s the guitar wails and bites and sighs that are the clear focus of the song, too. Brand New and Los Campesinos’ “The Sea is a Good Place to Think of the Future” are the closest comparisons to come to mind and I mean it ashigh praise that Los Mesoneros match them both for catharsis. 
[8]

Jonathan Bogart: A masterclass in post-hardcore rock dynamics, with a smooth voice that gives nothing away keeping the storm as calm as it’ll ever be.
[6]

Patrick St. Michel: Los Mesoneros know how to make silence work in their favor.  The Venezuelan band pace “Indeleble” just right to wring the right amount of tension out of their music, the ample space of the verses giving the lead singer plenty of space to do his thing.  Everything gets a little too crowded near the end, but the build to it is is just right.
[7]

Alfred Soto: The devil woman stained the soul of the Very Serious Singer, who bemoans his fate: stuck inside his misery with these power chords again.
[3]

Brad Shoup: “Indeleble” feints toward skippy bedroom pop (or maybe that’s how that strumming pattern has rewired my brain), but no, you’re in for some crackly beige downstrokes from the beginning of the millennium. Essentially, this sounds like a band to whom Ian Mackaye had to write a gentle letter, which isn’t without its charm — Luis Jiménez is an adorably bad singer.
[4]

Sabina Tang: It’s no pinnacle of 2010s musical innovation, but I found myself quite enjoying the slow post-rock bridge and outro. The nice thing about living in Quebec, though, is that when Karkwa does it punchier I can listen to Karkwa instead.
[5]

Will Adams: The title refers to a mysterious ink that stains both parties, so the guitars bleeding into one another isn’t coincidental. Neither is the song’s progression from acoustic dorm room noodling to crunchy rock, which mirrors the growing frustration with only being able to identify, and not diagnose, the problem.
[7]