They say that somewhere, an impossible city exists. That its inhabitants never fully reveal themselves. In “Liminal”, this new album, amid mists and flashes, Ciudad de Tar appears and disappears. Marco Avilez and José Tomás Molina trace coordinates toward a place that doesn’t appear on any map.
Marco ’s guitars echo like radio signals lost in time, drifting through distortion and reverberation, while José Tomás’s keys, synthesizers, clarinet, and percussion shape shifting landscapes—sometimes minimal, sometimes monumental. What they create isn’t just music; it’s the reconstruction of a myth, the search for a lost geography.
This album is a threshold between worlds. Those who have seen them live know there’s something more—something that eludes the obvious. It’s not just musical synergy; it’s the understanding of those who share a secret.
Perhaps Ciudad de Tar does exist. Perhaps Marco and José Tomás have been there, have walked it’s impossible streets, have heard its murmur. But in a world that pushes us toward predictable paths, that binds us to the tangible, finding it is no easy task. Maybe their music is the only way to remind us it’s still there, waiting for those who dare to seek it.
Andrea Gana aka Yadak (@yadak_____)
(Santiago, Chile. Mayo / May, 2025)
