Almada 79 by UHF: A Raw, Unapologetic Blast of Portuguese Rock
If you’re looking for something that punches you in the gut and then makes you wanna scream along, Almada 79 is your ticket. Released back in 2017, this punk-infused power pop beast from Portugal’s own UHF doesn’t mess around. It’s raw, it’s loud, and it doesn’t care if you can’t handle its energy. Produced under labels like AM.RA Discos and Blitz, this album feels like a love letter to rock ‘n roll—but one written with smudged ink and crumpled paper.
Let’s cut to the chase: two tracks stood out so hard they’re still stuck in my head like gum on a shoe. First up, "Deste Lado Do Rio." This track kicks off the album like a boot through a door. The bassline hits like a heartbeat racing after too much caffeine, courtesy of Carlos Peres, while António Manuel Ribeiro’s vocals come at you like he’s got nothing left to lose. There’s no sugarcoating here—it’s gritty, pissed-off poetry set to music. You feel every word, every chord change. It’s not just a song; it’s a declaration of war against mediocrity.
Then there’s "Violenta Violência," which slaps harder than an insult from someone who knows exactly where it hurts. The drums are relentless (shoutout to Zé Carvalho), pounding away like they’ve got a vendetta. And those guitars? Damn near razor-sharp, slicing through the mix like knives. Lyrically, it’s as brutal as it sounds—no metaphors hiding here, just straight-up rage served cold. When I first heard it, I had to rewind three times because holy hell, does it hit different.
What makes Almada 79 stand out isn’t just the music—it’s how real it feels. Every track has dirt under its nails, sweat on its brow, and fire in its belly. From the explosive “Cavalos De Corrida” to the hauntingly reflective “Notícias (A Preto E Branco),” UHF proves they’re not playing games. They’re telling stories, spilling guts, and leaving everything on the floor.
And let’s give credit where it’s due—António Manuel Ribeiro is everywhere on this thing. Producer, vocalist, concept guy—he practically bled into this project. But hey, props to the whole crew. Without guys like Renato Gomes shredding guitar solos or Rui Dias mastering the chaos, this wouldn’t hit half as hard.
But here’s the kicker—the more I listen, the more I realize this isn’t just another rock album. It’s a middle finger to complacency, a reminder that rock music can still be dangerous. In a world full of polished crap designed to sell sneakers, Almada 79 reminds us why we fell in love with rock in the first place: because it fights back.
So yeah, go ahead and crank this sucker up. Just don’t blame me when your neighbors start complaining—or worse, banging their heads along with you.
