Un Dia

Listened to absentmindedly, its deep, rumbling groove and overlapping rhythmic lines may initially seem nothing more than an artfully assembled soporific swirl. Live with it a while, though--give it time and space in order that it may weave its beguiling spell--and delights aplenty unfurl.

"Son" was a hushed wonder, full of digital loops, whispered lullabies and surround-sound chill. Its dizzying template has mutated nicely on Un Dia. [Fall 2008, p.97]

Un Dia is if anything, even more challenging, a set of songs that demand interpretation even as they beautifully defy it. [Nov 2008, p.106]

This is an adventurous and beguiling record that eschews the abrasiveness of Björk's more esoteric albums in favour of inviting the listener to explore its deeper reaches alongside the artist.

In a way, we’re witnessing the rest of the evolution that began on "Son," as Molina experimented with the ways the human voice could be manipulated electronically, as an instrument.

Un Día is as warm and welcoming as it is weird, but it's also something of an experiment.

Juana Molina has transcended mockery and doubters to follow her muse and succeed on her own terms.

Molina has created a genre all her own, and Un Dia is its pièce de résistance.

The likes of Los Hongos De Marosa glide by in a swirl of subtle beats and understated Spanish vocals, but nothing snags the ear. [Nov 2008, p.118]

Molina pulls off the most out-there material with melodies nearly as accessible as conventional pop.

The Argentinean TV actress emits powerful hallucinogenic vibes, creating a slippery soundtracj for the subconscious. [Nov 2008, p.98]

Un Día takes everything the former Argentine TV star used to establish her musical style in the 12 years since she released her first album--her sometimes grainy voice, folk-leaning acoustic guitar, odd sampled sounds, and an impossible degree of looping-- and shows Molina’s music in its weirdest, most mesmerizing, ideal version of itself.

Un Día's repetitions reward repeated listening; Molina's cascading, joyous vocals and clattering rhythms - on numbers such as 'Vive Solo,' 'Los Hongos De Marosa' and 'Dar (Qué Difícil)'--define a quirky and decidedly non-European sound.

The sounds themselves, produced by Ms. Molina in what sound like very private and very light-headed sessions, have few edges; they’re rounded and melted like chocolate left in a summer sun. Each song feels as if it could go on forever, or quietly vanish into the mist.

With none of the barking dogs found on "Son," Un Dia generally limits itself to guitars, synths, voice and percussion, a more intimate, insular palette of sounds that is sometimes too subdued to really egage. [Oct 2008, p.60]

The organic lushness should please indie-pop fans reluctant to embrace synth music, while the emphasis on sound instead of structure holds appeal for fans of loop music who’ve grown bored of its now-familiar tropes.

On Un Dia with her insistent, looped and latered frooves to the fore, her seductively dreamy voice is used as both rhythmic counter and complement. [Nov 2008, p.109]