Review Summary: Triana's second album was a dark, anguished cry to Spanish youth, standing against tradition and oppression. It sounded quite well, and it sold quite more than their first effort.
The cover art. Jesus, wearing the artifacts of passion, screams loudly, covered in smoke. The gothic-monsterlike authorities torture common people (there's even something that looks like tentacle rape) pushing them into a miserable, smoky pit filled with snakes.
An obscure 80's death metal band? No, they're Triana, the Spanish Prog main forces, going against the mid-70's Spanish situation from the very cover of their second effort, "Hijos del Agobio". Looking at the cover you may think this is going to be harder and darker than "El Patio". And that's right.
Almost three years after having a modest success in Spain with their debut, De la Rosa's guys began to record their second album, this time to find mainstream attention in the post-Franco Spain.
The album features the band moving forward to a more personal sound, losing some of the complexity in the way ("El Patio" featured 3 songs over the four minute mark, while the longest songs here barely last 5 minutes).
The atmosphere here is no longer dreamy, but nightmarish; the anguished cries are no longer for love, but for liberty: a sinister organ sound backing De la Rosa passionate and memorable performance greets us from the very moment when the needle hits the groove: this is "Hijos del Agobio" (which could be translated as "Sons of Suffocation" or "Sons of Angst").
The album also features some lively pieces (the frantic "Rumor") and some tender moments ("Sentimiento de Amor") that anyway fit the overall atmosphere.
Tele's penned "Recuerdos de Triana" (the darkest track in this album) is a short drum solo that brings us to a dark and strange Semana Santa procession.
Side two begins with the two weakest songs of the album: hard rock numbers "¡Ya esta bien!" and "Necesito". While good stand alone tracks, their passion cannot be compared with the rest of this brilliant album.
"Señor Troncoso" is the most melancholic track ever written by Triana, a homage to a boozy old man whose way of life inspired the band to look beyond external appearance (and it's maybe their greatest song, also).
Even in the softest moments the album features a hazy and oppressive sound designed to evoke the gloom and despair of Spanish youth. Triana will repeat this formula on the next album, "Sombra y Luz" (the last of Triana's progressive trilogy), thus becoming their trademark sound for the late seventies before eventually turning to conventional songwriting.
While this album may be weaker than "El Patio" in terms of complexity, it marked a step forward towards the development of a more personal sound. It also featured more lyrical diversity, which was the weakest point of their first album. Also, the presence of "Rumor" and "Señor Troncoso" take this good album one step closer to the greatness of their first one and make us forget about the most boring moments here.
If you liked "El Patio" (or if you like deep and dark political poetry), give this a try.