In the tumult of a measured, almost hebetic, anger, Chalkidean Routes present a record containing nine (plus one hidden track) tracks which waggles through stoner and heavy fields. They wallow in a slime of rhythms with an unquestionable compositive geniousness entwining ther avocation to the instruments they use. Dressed up with an admittedly strong production, and besides the guest keys of their producer, its four creators grapple only to the basic instruments of rock idiosyncrasy: it means just guitars, bass and drums. They know how to form the structure of any track and the record seems as physical emanation of their very lives. It happens for me to know the members of the band, so that’s why I profess something like that. This, of course, means that the band is led to an integrated attitude and that’s probably why the record sounds so honest. Rightly or wrongly, this album contains serenades for the vagabonds. One attribute of the band is that they harmonize unattached melodies through massacre heavy rhythmics. Sometimes sluggish, other times nervous, this record is a modern musical monument for the universal scene. It hucksters your company to the members’ intoxication and hovels in thirsty mouths. It’s going to make you feel congenial only to karmic pariahs and for sure you won’t feel homeless here. Listen to the Gringos.