Portuguese experimental musician António Feiteira returns to Perf with Amuleto Apotropaico’s sophomore album. Língua Espúria (Spurious Tongue) withdraws from the guitar-and-drums interplay that anchored the self-titled debut, moving toward fully electronic arrangements of concrète mechanics. What was once shaped through shared physical gesture now condenses into a singular current: a hermetic pulse carving its own labyrinth through the pandemonium.

The album draws inspiration from Milford Graves's visionary mapping of the body's secret rhythms into function generators. Amuleto Apotropaico has engineered a system that emulates Feiteira's own improvisational drumming language such that muscle memory becomes stochastic digital precision.

Língua Espúria opens with 'Abafador'. A track relishing in burnt afterimages as it patiently leads the listener into Amuleto Apotropaico’s new sound world. Its insistent double-tapped rhythm splinters into four cascading versions of itself, a pulse folding & refolding until it becomes its own perforated haze.

'Carpideira' follows as an algorithmic lamentation set in motion by shimmering temporal reversals: motion-captures of cyclic grief. The track persistently builds until only a few pure tones remainder.

The album's most pared-down moment is 'Espinha de Vidro'. It is the clearest statement of the system underlying Língua Espúria. Here, Feiteira's rhythmic concern is laid bare, every detail exposed in a distilled form, its melodic thread emerging with equal exactness.

'Apotropia III' begins as a subtle hinge in the catalogue, its brutalist‑liturgical atmosphere recast in a divined, techgnostic register. A narrative, gestural drift threads through the piece that connects it to Feiteira’s 'Killswitch Counterpoint', which appeared on his Eastern Nurseries release Performing the Heimlich on an Ouroboros. Shared samples cross-feed his parallel projects, letting them momentarily run on the same signal path. Stuttering percussion, flickers of glitched air & a brooding bass melodic line fill out the margins before the track finally shears off into harsh, serrated noise.