Mondi Perdutti was released at the beginning of February 2023 on Primordial Void and dips into the archive of Mondo Lava from 2006-2013.
It’s hard to describe what this album feels like. The edges are soft and seem to merge into one another, so you wouldn’t know if you were dreaming or not. The psychedelic riffs distort what you’re seeing, but in your head you definitely think you can see clearly.
Everything seems normal and relaxed but it definitely isn’t. You’re on a long highway with the sun beating down, you might even be on a school trip. What year is it again?
You may as well be on a beach sunbathing in front of the relics of a disused resort. You stare into the swimming pool water where there is now a whole thriving ecosystem. Nothing really phases you though because there’s something calming about it. It’s an eternity until you have to go back to that job serving extra-large diet cokes at the truck stop.
Palm trees are the only shade in whatever place this is, but I honestly don’t mind a bit of sunburn. I forgot that cacti could play the guitar, there’s only so much coffee I can consume.
There is a last American hero, and it might not be James Ferraro?
A collection of lost Mondo Lava tracks have finally been given new life after a late-night Ouija board session compelled Primordial Void’s Marcel Sletten to seek out M-A-N-G-O L-U-A-U. It was then, while sipping daiquiris on Wiki-ki and chafing from sand in his thong, Marcel was suddenly struck by inspiration: a Mondo Lava compilation album! This album brings together songs, some recently rediscovered after an unearthed box of cassette tapes showed up, others from a demo originally submitted to, and rejected by, just about every mid-2000s tape label for being “too stupid,” “unlistenable” and “dangerous.” Now-defunct Aquarius Records, who let just about anything into their famed consignment tape display, wouldn’t even stock it.
“We were promised Holodecks, but we made due with tapedecks.” Remember when Allen Ginsberg tried to levitate the Pentagon? No? Neither do I! But the music on this album is meant to evoke the same inept magical trickery, but instead of the State Department they target the Frozen Foods Department. "Dance of the Pale Blue Flame Broiled Whopper" was recorded during a ritual attempt to spiritually animate a cheeseburger. "Gazebo of the Owl Bear" was recorded at dawn in a haunted gazebo.