Lagoss

Música para Plátanos takes its name — and much of its inspiration — from the group’s recording studio, situated in the heart of a banana plantation on the humid north shore of Tenerife, Canary Islands. The ever-present sight of the green, sun-drenched fields surrounding their weekly sessions seeped directly into the music: improvised jams that are playful, layered, and deeply connected to place. This release gathers a distilled selection from those sessions — a kind of “greatest rotten hits” distinct from their ongoing Imaginary Island Music volumes. 

The album functions as a living archive bringing together a distilled selection of recordings spanning more than five years: from dusty, long-forgotten sessions to evolving tunes that have become staples of the band's live sets but have never before been committed to record. These long-form sessions served as a petri dish for the Lagoss sound, allowing their experiments to putrefy into their chaotic signature strain of cyber-exotica, unstable kosmische or heavily-corroded dub.

The title obvs nods to Brian Eno’s Music for Airports, but the logic is inverted. Instead of clean, ambient drift, the record inhabits a dense and fertile environment: polyrhythmic structures, Latin-infused electronics, and shifting counter-tempos that feel weighted by the local humidity. Ultimately, Música para Plátanos is as much about the process as it is the place. Like the plantation outside, the music is subject to the elements; the tracks change shape depending on the heat of the day, what we drank, what we ate. It’s an unstable, honest harvest of sound—shaped by the weather and the state(s) of mind alike.