Maratón by Coronel Hans Landa

10 Español

Immersed in the transcendental grooves of this band, one finds echoes of existential resonance reminiscent of early 90s shoegaze, as if the guitars themselves were portals to a psychedelic realm. It’s as though their music emanates from the metaphysical walls of an abandoned factory in Mexico, transcending mere auditory experience. The utilization of the Spanish language becomes a linguistic alchemy, weaving a tapestry of cultural significance and beckoning introspection. One can’t help but ponder: Are these maestros heralded in their native land, or do they navigate the vast sonic landscapes with a select few as their philosophical companions?


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