One of my problems is that I always want to blame things on the night. I want to cast aspersions on the evening in question, citing an unbalance somewhere as the reason for things not working out. It's an amorphous and silent foe that will never deny, nor confirm, any wrongdoing or maneuvering to make things reckless or less than ideal. They're just there - those nights - and we feel that they're up to something. We may have some fellow night conspiracy theorists in Mexico City's Chikita Violenta, or they might just blame their issues on violent women and girls who go bump in the night. Those that they seem to be singing about on the songs featured here - songs that will appear on the group's sophomore album "Tre3s," to be released soon on Arts & Crafts - don't sound to be all that destructive, but more capable of turning a head into spaghetti noodles and the eyes into blizzards. These are females who will bleed you dry, who will take your sanity for all it's worth and they do it without beatings or anything outright physical. They dent these men, bash them in, with the kinds of actions that are blunt and forceful, but consisting solely of words and expressions and dynamic vagaries that are the root of all splitting headaches. Chikita Violenta sing about the messes in their heads, the collisions taking place without them having any sort of control of the wheels and what they usually feel like - to listen to - aren't unpleasant slaughterings, but the soothing, albeit intense massages one believes they would receive aboard a dreamboat. They draft the atmospherics of their songs with cool winds and warm winds, and coos whipping off the waters, a sauna of warm milk to send you off to sleep, even if you're certain to toss and turn through some of the proceedings and whirling dervishes playing out in that puttied up head of confliction. You're almost more certain of getting the kind of rocky sleep that's going to feel like no sleep at all, as you arise with burning, bleary eyes and muscles that feel as if they've been hammered into place. We feel their sleeplessness in literal and hidden terns in "Tired" and we appreciate that they're taking this lying down, for it gives them a cleaner view of the cloud formations and that peaceful drifting that allows them to think in waves and answer in flight.