Collages by Juan Carlos Vasquez: A Sonic Puzzle You Didn’t Know You Needed
If you're into music that feels like it’s been stitched together from fragments of dreams, abandoned radio signals, and maybe the hum of a refrigerator at 3 AM, then Collages by Juan Carlos Vasquez is your jam. Released in 2014 under Cassauna (props to them for putting out weird stuff), this album straddles electronic bleeps and classical undertones with an experimental swagger. It's not background music unless your background happens to be an art gallery or some moody café where everyone pretends they "get it."
The tracklist reads like a cryptic poem: “Collage 1,” “Collage 2,” all the way up to “Collage 9.” But don’t let the unimaginative titles fool ya—each piece has its own little personality quirk. Two tracks stood out for me, though, kinda like those oddball friends who show up uninvited but end up stealing the party.
First off, there’s “Collage 5 The Acrobat.” This one grabs you by the ears right away with these jittery, circus-like beats that feel like someone chopped up Philip Glass and fed him through a kaleidoscope. There are moments when it almost sounds playful, like a kid banging on pots and pans—but then BAM, it flips into this haunting string section that makes you wonder if the acrobat fell off their tightrope. I kept coming back to this track because it’s messy yet precise, chaotic yet controlled. Kinda like life, huh?
Then there’s “Collage 4 Landscape.” Whoa, talk about painting pictures with sound. This one starts slow, real atmospheric, like walking through fog in the woods. Except instead of birds chirping, there’s this low drone humming beneath everything, making you feel slightly uneasy—as if Bigfoot might jump out any second. About halfway through, it morphs into something else entirely, layering what sounds like distorted piano notes over glitchy static. It’s eerie but beautiful, like staring at a cracked mirror reflecting a sunset. Honestly, I couldn’t tell you why I remember it so vividly—it just stuck, like gum on a shoe.
The rest of the album? Well, it’s hit-or-miss depending on your mood. Some tracks blend seamlessly into each other, while others demand your full attention like an annoying friend who won’t stop talking about astrology. But hey, isn’t that what experimental music is supposed to do? Keep you guessing?
Here’s the thing: listening to Collages feels less like hearing an album and more like wandering through someone’s brain. And sure, Juan Carlos Vasquez’s brain might be cluttered with half-finished thoughts and random noise, but damn if it ain’t fascinating. By the time the last note fades, you’re left wondering—is this guy a genius or just really good at pretending? Either way, hats off to him.
Oh, and here’s a random thought before I go: If aliens ever invade Earth and ask us to explain human creativity, we should just hand them this album. They’ll either beam us aboard as honorary space rock stars or vaporize us instantly. Either way, mission accomplished.
