Album Review: Alva by Felipe Charret & Stupp
Released in 2017 under Sudd Records, Alva is an experimental electronic gem from Brazil that feels like a journey through uncharted soundscapes. Crafted by Felipe Charret and Stupp, this album dives deep into the abstract side of electronic music, blending textures and rhythms that challenge the listener's expectations. With only two tracks—"Alva" and "Resonator"—the project might seem minimalistic at first glance, but don’t let its brevity fool you. This is one of those albums where less truly does more.
The title track, “Alva,” grabs your attention right away with its eerie yet hypnotic vibe. It opens with a slow build-up of atmospheric synths that feel like they’re echoing out of some forgotten cave. As layers pile on top of each other, there’s this strange tension—a mix of calmness and unease—that keeps you hooked. The way Charret manipulates sound here reminds me of staring at clouds morphing into shapes you can’t quite name. Somewhere midway, it drops into a pulsating rhythm that hits just hard enough without losing its ethereal quality. You won’t forget this one anytime soon because it lingers long after the last note fades.
Then there’s “Resonator,” which takes things in a slightly darker direction. If “Alva” feels like floating above misty mountains, this track pulls you down into murky waters. Its basslines throb with a raw energy, almost primal, while glitchy effects flicker unpredictably around them. There’s something oddly satisfying about how chaotic and controlled it feels all at once. Around the three-minute mark, a sharp, metallic tone cuts through the haze—it’s jarring but perfect, like stumbling upon a hidden door in a dream. That moment stuck with me for days.
Felipe Charret not only co-created the album but also mastered it, giving it a cohesive polish that lets every detail shine. Experimental albums sometimes risk alienating listeners with their complexity, but Alva strikes a balance between innovation and accessibility. It doesn’t try too hard to impress; instead, it invites you to sit with it, explore its nooks and crannies, and make sense of what it stirs within you.
Reflecting on Alva, I’m struck by how much ground these two tracks cover despite their short runtime. In a world obsessed with playlists and singles, this album dares to be experienced as a whole. And honestly? Listening to it feels like eavesdropping on a conversation between machines whispering secrets about the universe. Weird analogy, yeah, but hey, that’s what good art does—it makes you think weird thoughts.
