Reviewed: CAMACHO – Tears In Torremolinos LP
- Undrtone Blog
- 2 hours ago
- 3 min read
Electrodance has spent much of the last decade living in fragments. Its most recognisable ideas, maximalism, emotional immediacy, and unapologetic drama, have been absorbed into pop, festival EDM and algorithm-friendly hybrids, often stripped of their original urgency. Tears In Torremolinos doesn’t attempt to resurrect the genre through nostalgia or polish. Instead, CAMACHO approaches it as a living language, one that can still stretch, collide and contradict itself when placed in the right hands.
Rather than positioning himself as a front-facing auteur, CAMACHO acts as a curator and connective force. The album is built around collaboration, but not in the feature-heavy, name-stacking sense. Each contributor is folded into a wider emotional and sonic framework, where authorship feels shared and fluid. This gives the record its defining quality. It doesn’t sound like a collection of singles. It sounds like a conversation.
That conversation opens abruptly with B&H, a statement track that immediately destabilises expectation. Trap rhythms, spaced-out techno pressure and breakbeat energy collide in a way that feels disorienting rather than explosive. It’s an opening that catches you off guard, less about impact and more about intent, signalling that genre boundaries will be treated as flexible rather than fixed.
Momentum builds quickly. Drive glides between gritty future house and the emotionally charged, post-EDM dance language popularised by artists operating at the intersection of club and vulnerability. It’s sleek without feeling empty, a track that understands how modern dance music can feel intimate without losing scale.
DIMA4DUNYA pushes deeper into weight and atmosphere. Heavy kicks anchor the track, but it’s the vocal presence and rave-leaning flourishes that give it character. There’s a sense of ceremony here, a reminder that electrodance has always thrived on emotional theatre as much as rhythm.
The album’s softer edges are just as considered. Therapissed leans into lo-fi textures and commercially fluent songwriting, drifting through future deep house territory with serene confidence. Rather than feeling like a detour, it expands the album’s emotional range, reinforcing its refusal to sit in one mood for too long.
2021 Peerspeak acts as a brief but effective reset. Built around recorded sound rather than melody, it functions as a bridge, grounding the album in reflection before lifting it back into motion.
That lift comes with 29, one of the album’s emotional high points. A piano-led introduction gently builds into a euphoric release, where melodic techno elements bloom without overwhelming the track’s intimacy. It’s a moment of restraint and release handled with real sensitivity.
Never Go continues that emotional thread, drifting into alternative and leftfield dance spaces with future garage undertones. The vocal work here is particularly striking, layered harmonies creating depth without clutter. By this point, the album has established itself as something quietly special, a sustained exhibition of taste rather than a grab for attention.
Drama returns in full with Strobelights. A slow, vocal-heavy opening gives way to a high-speed, mainstage-ready rush, reminding you that CAMACHO understands spectacle, but chooses when to deploy it.
TIT 4 TAT and FCK DAT further underline the album’s refusal to be pinned down. Genres blur, references overlap, and familiar structures are bent rather than borrowed. Even when the energy leans toward recognisable club language, there’s always a personal fingerprint present.
The album closes with Orchids, an introspective and beautifully measured finale. It feels reflective without retreating, offering space after an album that has moved quickly but thoughtfully. It’s a closing track that doesn’t try to summarise what came before, instead letting the emotional residue speak for itself.
Tears In Torremolinos succeeds because it doesn’t treat electrodance as something to be revived or rebranded. It treats it as something to be explored. By embracing collaboration, brevity and emotional contrast, CAMACHO delivers a record that feels current without chasing trends, nostalgic without being backwards-facing.
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