At its most volatile, experimental rock has the power to subvert preconceived canons, to transform chaos and dissonance into a high-impact emotional experience. That is the sonic landscape explored on the second album by Titanic, the duo formed by Venezuelan guitarist I la Católica (Héctor Tosta) and Guatemalan singer and cellist Mabe Fratti. HAGEN follows not a single commercial convention. Its universe is built on abrasive textures and abrupt transitions. On “Gotera,” the rhythmic treatment assaults the senses with a machine-gun-like effect. Yet the duo’s melodic instinct surfaces when least expected. “I dig through dimensions to see if I might contradict myself,” Fratti sings on “Escarbo dimensiones.” Her voice sounds luminous and redemptive within an aesthetic that evokes the slippery melodies and angular architecture of 1980s King Crimson (Discipline). “Libra” is the track that brings Titanic closest to pop in its pliability: a playful, infectious song with a chorus that highlights the innocence in Fratti’s voice. That same voice can also sound tragic (“Pájaro de fuego”), bend toward surrealism (“La Gallina degollada”), or adopt a healthy sense of humor (“Te tragaste el chicle”). Titanic chooses to exist as a pendulum, swinging between the accessible and the esoteric. That underlying tension defines an album that demands to be heard without prejudice. The closing track, “Alzando el trofeo,” revives the lysergic whirlwind of Cocteau Twins—a comparison that, in this case, is a badge of honor.