Alien Tropical by Servicioalcliente

Alien Tropical: the perfect title for the second album by Servicio Al Cliente (Customer Service), the project of Colombian-born, Berlin-resident Juliana Martinez. If you were cannily seduced by the debut self-titled Servicio Al Cliente album, from way back in 2021, the wait for a follow-up has felt long, but Alien Tropical was worth the wait. Indeed, it feels like the perfect way for Michael Mayer’s Imara imprint to introduce itself to the new year: an album full of play and spirit, verve and sparkle, rich with pop spirit and with one eye smartly cocked toward the dancefloor.

That first Servicio Al Cliente album was a smart statement of intent, and a wonderful, unexpected turn from Martinez, who’d already been through plenty: being expelled from private music lessons,
training in law, joining a group named Las Palabras Correctas. 2021’s Servicio Al Cliente landed on the turntables of anyone with discerning radar (Ada included “Romántico” on her Connecting The Dots mix for Kompakt, for example). With Alien Tropical, Martinez works the sensual sway of her music even harder, building six luscious songs that twist chant-like repetitions into hypnotic mantras, each song the perfect confluence of melody and mystery.

When asked about Alien Tropical, Martinez pieces together fragments of memory: winter explorations, long road trips, navigating the highways and the heart. “I had been driving a lot at the time on the highway,” she recalls. “I depended on music I played in the car to manage my emotions and my thoughts on those long drives. Everything felt strange and unfamiliar on the highway, and I realised music was so psychological and my only tool to influence my feelings between highways and new places.”

So, the music becomes the narrative for where the body and the heart wants to go. That might explain the gentle yearning in Alien Tropical, and its eternal hypnotic, its sense of forever forward-motion, as though the music is flickering like the highway strip reflected in the rear-view mirror. But there’s also the skyward movement of the melodies, the way their loveliness lifts these six songs up through the clouds, like the helium balloons on the cover. From the sensual swelter of “Suelta Por La Pampa” to the shimmering tones and clacking keys of the closing title track, it’s a spirited encounter: “a feeling,” Martinez confirms, “an encounter with my synths in a place I needed to be.”