BALTHVS have spent years taking their psychedelic grooves from Bogotá to stages around the world. On Manifest, the trio turn that experience into eleven new songs, written and developed around a period of touring and time together in a rural studio outside the city. The record keeps their instinct for playing off one another, but gives the quieter moments as much weight as the ones made for dancing.
The opening bassline of “In-N-Out (Downtown)” takes us back to seeing BALTHVS at Berlin’s Columbia Theater in 2024. There’s that same easy confidence in the rhythm section, with guitar chords finding their way through the spaces between beats. “Going downtown, better look around,” they sing. It sounds like a hint: pay attention, because this record is going places. We’re happy to follow.
On Manifest, BALTHVS know exactly when to let a rhythm hold steady and when to lead it somewhere unexpected. “Liminal Stages” begins with a lovely guitar line over a crisp hi-hat pattern and a bass part that seems content to sit on one note per chord. The deeper we get into it, the more there is to hear. “Motion (For Ashra)” shifts the drums toward a Latin, almost reggaeton-like pulse; Johanna Mercuriana’s voice settles into the arrangement alongside the clean guitar melody. Neither song has to announce how much is happening. Both make us want to start them again.
The record has room to be still, too. Johanna’s chants give “RARE PSALMS” a meditative pull. For a moment, “Eternal Flow” seems ready to remain there, until bass and drums begin their conversation again and a bending guitar line draws us back into motion. Later, the wah-heavy opening and darker melody of “Flesh and Soul” take the album somewhere wider and more psychedelic. These changes in mood feel natural because the three players keep listening to one another.
And then there’s “Year of the Snake.” Its shakers suggest the rattle in the title before a four-on-the-floor beat and cumbia feel make it impossible for us to sit still. Reverb washes across the guitar; the whole track seems built for that involuntary stank face. It brings LA LOM’s “Alacrán” to mind, but it’s the way BALTHVS put these parts together that makes it one of our favourites here. “Sunday Forecast” arrives at just the right moment afterward. Slowing down feels less like the party ending than getting home, sitting on the sofa and letting everything settle.
The disco-minded drums and guitar lead of “(World Is) More Than I Can Handle” get us thinking about the next time we’ll catch the band live. We can already picture what that beat might do in a concert hall. By the time “Kilig” closes the album, we’re left with something warmer than the rush of any one track: gratitude for the care and pleasure we hear in the trio playing together.
Manifest meets us wherever we are. It gives us space to turn inward, then offers a bassline that makes us get up again. We came to it remembering how BALTHVS made us feel in a room; we leave it wanting to be in one with them again.
Listen where you listen.
