Tupperwear’s "Pentagonono" is an album that unapologetically dives into the absurdly grand ambition of turning geometry into music. If you’re expecting something easy, think again. "Pentagonono" is a record that takes the listener on a sonic adventure through abstract mathematical concepts like the golden ratio and the number pi - as if these were the types of ideas you could hum to yourself while waiting for your coffee. This is music for those who don’t flinch at the phrase “extrapolation of geometry into various musical parameters” and maybe even get excited by it.

Right off the bat, the album title, "Pentagonono", feels like a playful warning. This is not your typical collection of dancefloor-friendly electronic tracks. No, Tupperwear - the duo formed by Daniel García and Mladen Kurajica - wants to take you on a philosophical quest that’s half cosmic, half maniacal. With a history rooted in Tenerife’s underground electronic scene, Tupperwear has always blurred boundaries, but here they completely dissolve them. This is their fourth full-length project, and they’ve gone beyond trendy electronica into deep experimental territory - somewhere between the cosmos and a math classroom.

Opening track “Los Cuasicristales” (the quasi-crystals) sets the tone. The music is strangely fluid, yet structured, much like the crystals for which it’s named. It’s the aural equivalent of staring at fractals for hours - hypnotic, meticulously arranged, but always slightly beyond comprehension. The polyrhythmic layers are complex, reminiscent of Gamelan music in their replication, yet totally synthetic in timbre. If Gamelan musicians had access to modular synths, this might be the result. You get the sense that Tupperwear is less interested in writing a "song" and more into exploring what happens when sound and math collide.

“Hiptógono” follows with sharper angles, bouncing between glitchy percussive bursts and eerie synth washes. It’s got a restless energy that feels at once calculated and wildly unhinged, like serialist composers got together to jam with Aphex Twin. There's almost a danceable quality here - if, by dancing, you mean flailing around like you’re in a time signature that doesn’t quite exist yet.

Then there’s “Armoniconono”, which feels like Tupperwear’s declaration of war on traditional harmony. There’s a melody, but it’s buried under layers of discordant tones, twisting rhythms, and what can only be described as sonic detours into entirely unexpected realms. It's like Bach filtered through a psychedelic blender - just when you think you’re grasping the form, it slips away into something stranger, something more primal. It’s moments like this that make you realize that, for all their cerebral intentions, Tupperwear still manage to sneak in emotional depth. There’s beauty in the chaos.

By the time we reach “Montaña Blanca”, you might feel like you’ve ascended the dizzying heights of abstraction and need to catch your breath. Luckily, this track offers a slightly more grounded approach, though the mountain in question seems to belong to a surrealist landscape. It’s both sprawling and intimate, a strange contradiction of nature meeting machine. The sounds are organic, yet synthetic, like electronic music that's evolved its own ecosystem. It’s not hard to imagine this playing in the background as you stand at the base of a real mountain, wondering how the heck you got there.

The album’s second half takes a slightly more playful turn, though the intensity remains. “Aguataca” feels like an abstracted conversation between water droplets and machines, while “Primos Recall” seems to summon the ghosts of Canarian folklore through fractured rhythms and echoing textures. There’s a local flavor here, as though Tupperwear is tipping their hat to the musical traditions of their home, but they twist these influences into something utterly alien. It’s refreshing to hear echoes of their past work - like the tropically tinged collaborations on "Saturno Mágico" - surface in such a weird and wonderful way.

“Taga Nano” might be the album’s standout track for sheer audacity. It feels like Tupperwear decided to build a temple to the number phi and then demolish it halfway through. There’s something ritualistic in its pacing, with repetitive beats and tones that build and collapse in on themselves. It’s not easy to process, but if you let go of trying to understand it and instead just feel it, it’s kind of transcendent.

The closer, “To Elo”, wraps things up in a way that’s both unsettling and serene. It’s a quiet, drifting piece - minimal compared to the rest of the album - yet filled with tension, as though Tupperwear is suggesting that the journey isn’t over yet. In fact, it might just be beginning.
At its core, "Pentagonono" is an album that challenges you to think while also testing the boundaries of what we can call music. It draws from avant-garde traditions like Musique Concrète and Serialism, but there’s also a touch of psychedelia and even hip-hop, especially in the freewheeling spirit of experimentation. Tupperwear takes all these references, mixes them with their own fascination for geometry and cosmology, and creates something that’s difficult to classify - much less pin down. Purely abstract beauty!