Review: Cime - "The Independence of Central America Remains an Unfinished Experiment"
Editor’s Note: This is the full-length version of Lily Lazar’s piece from Summer in Review 2022. Thanks to Monty for providing us with photos. So many photos…
All pictures taken by Hex Camberos except where noted.
It’s finally time for me to put the pen to paper for this review. I’ve spent many hours intensely hyperfixated on this incredible piece of work. This is pretty easily the best album to come out this year for me. The amount of work and passion poured into this project is unparalleled - it just washes over you again and again, with wave after wave of pure love for existence. Once you put enough time into this album and the multimedia experience that goes along with it, it takes you over. For this project, Monty drew from the work of DJ Rozwell, who is known for his “psychedelic, hypnagogic pop, Youtube-core” aesthetic (as Monty puts it) and his esoteric online ARG, Erratas, which garnered an entire subreddit and other parts of the internet hooked, only to find out it was a clever scheme for Rozwell to promote his music. What you get out of this album is how much you put into it. If you look into the history of all these events, the way Monty talks about themself in interviews and their relationship to their culture, their music, and their understanding of Honduran and Central American history, you just… get it. This album, and everything around it, is just incredible. Monty’s level of passion, which I cannot put into words, is rivaled perhaps only by her IMMENSE work ethic. She even said, in a radio interview with Gender Queeries, that she had to get her gallbladder removed because of how much energy she puts in her music.
Image credit: Skyline Tapes
However, the effort she put into this album was not just academic research. Monty went through a lot of self-exploration, especially in relation to their family, sexuality, gender, and ethnicity, creating a web that maps how all these qualities have connected in their life. For them, historical research and self-exploration are a lot more closely connected than you might think. Monty’s investigation into the political history of Honduras, which her mother said in an interview far surpassed even her own experience and knowledge, was just as much an exploration of herself. This symbiotic relationship between personal and geo-political histories is the crux of the album. There are plenty of references to the outside world - obviously through the title, the very provocative, The Independence of Central America Remains an Unfinished Experiment, but also through the mentions of Banana Republics; references to Honduras’ 200-year old liberator, Francisco Morazán; the Sandinistas; and so much more that I won’t be able to cover here. However, despite those references and connections to history, the album is just as much an investigation into these incredibly important parts of Monty themself, especially the way in which they play into that history. Monty is a product of the experiment, yet they are just as much an individual and representative of a centuries-long continued struggle to exist and to embody the Self. This “Self,” as Monty explains it, blends personal experience with culture, religion, gender identity/sexuality, class, education, and political beliefs. Monty elaborates on this self in a wealth of metaphor, which would make literary giants like Garcia Marquez and Jorge Borges (two people she mentions in an enlightening interview I’ll discuss more later) consider them a worthy competitor. There’s an endless reservoir of knowledge, passion, and hard work here that would have made the Library of Alexandria look like a pamphlet by comparison.
So far I’ve gone into the ways to explain the tremendous depth of introspection that has gone into this album, but that’s not the whole goal for Monty. Of course she can casually display thoughtful and incredibly written metaphors, but she’s also trying to spread her passion for her culture, which fully informs her sense of self - especially through the music, both in sound and lyrics. Here, I have to talk about some of her influences. In an interview with Ly Hagan, Monty elaborates on a few of their musical influences. Carlos and Luis Enrique Mejía Godoy, two bards for the Sandinistas, were two particularly influential musicians. Named after the legendary Central American political figure Augosto Cesar Sandino (more info about him on cime.casa, Monty’s website, or elsewhere on the Internet), the Sandinistas were a group of revolutionary Christian communists, but in that Latin American way that Monty describes they are just as much and in the same way musicians. In their interview for Gender Queeries, Monty cites Dr. Quintanilla, an influential Central American political figure who claims that Central America is a region of passion: “...the politics and the music and the culture, these are a reflection of this area’s unsuppressable passion for life.” She talks at length about music and its relation to politics, especially in Latin America, in a Q&A with Halldór H Kristínarson on Shouts. As shown by both of these interviews, it is clear that Monty fully embodies this observation by seamlessly combining both political/historical information as well as Honduran culture and her personal experiences with both.
Religion is a very important aspect for Monty as well; it’s interconnected with their sexuality, gender, artistic expression, ethnicity, and revolutionary politics. Hearing the Sandinistas - Christian communists - talk positively about LGBT+ people was transformative for her. In the US, we traditionally (pun intended) associate Christianity with a harkening for the past, but in Monty’s words, “religion in Latin America has a very different societal function than in the USA, but there’s much more of an emphasis on liberation via theology.” They also elaborate on how, in their Honduran understanding of masculinity, there’s no need for her as a transfeminine individual to reject it, because for her it has a very different cultural role. In Monty’s view, masculinity is quite strictly the desire to help and protect other people. While we might say that it is viewed similarly in America and European countries, the difference is, in her view, it is not mediated through a patriarchy where men have explicit political and domestic control over their partners and children. This is directly related to the continued European and American colonization of Latin America (the literal part of the “Unfinished Experiment” of “Independence” the title refers to) which is always an important part of this history and their story. Before the institution of colonial understandings of gender and sexuality, there was a lot more room for fluidity. Both Monty and Ly Hagan express their fondness and respect for a pre-colonial culture, in Honduras and Vietnam respectively, where the type of gender expression they seek to share and embody is completely different to our understanding. That’s exactly what forms the basis of Monty’s acceptance of masculinity, something which leads to many white transfems in the US, including myself, to feel a deep-seated distaste and dislike for masculinity.
Of course, Monty also speaks about the problems present in her culture. She absolutely does not want to present the current state of events, or the pre-colonial state of things, as perfect - as is the case with the end of this stage in cultural history. For one, Monty targets the USA’s exoticization of Central America - another form of racism, where Americans romanticize a region as their colorful little backyard without an understanding of its complex history . She mentions financial instability, which they took a few hours out of their day to explain to me, on the song “Canción Para Guillermo (Song for Guillermo).” She talks about one of her key influences, Guillermo Anderson, an incredible songwriter and a widely-loved figure in Honduras who unfortunately passed away in 2017. In particular, his album - Ese Mortal Llamado Morazán (Morazán the Mortal) - is incredibly influential to them precisely because of how easily understandable his music is and how important he was for Honduras. There is an interview on her website where Monty, alongside her mother, meets Guillermo’s wife and daughter. They ask Monty a host of questions about the album, their influences, their life, and especially Guillermo’s part in all of this. Guillermo’s wife, Lastenia Godoy, even gave Monty the full, uncut CD of “Ese Mortal Llamado Morazán,” which is now on Monty’s YouTube page. It’s an absolutely incredible album. My personal favorite tracks are “Esos Marineros” and “Dos Mil Hombres,” but you should absolutely listen to the entire album. Guillermo’s influence on Monty is impossible to overstate, you can tell from listening to the album, as well as looking the dedication she put into translating the lyrics from that album, the fondness that they talk about him and his music, especially in the interview with his family members, and it’s absolutely deserved. It’s one of the best albums I’ve ever heard; I was brought almost to tears a few times. That goes for both of these albums. On this song, about Guillermo, they say, “Guillermo. Such a love for music. In a country that won’t conduce it.” So what does she mean by the country which won’t conduce it? A large part of the statement is the poor financial situation of Honduras due to centuries of colonial oppression. I am purposefully not calling the situation “unfortunate” because it is very much not a matter of fortune, but of deliberate, oppressive human action which, as you can probably guess, Monty is very strictly against.
There are a few other ways Monty combats the fetishization and of Central American culture by not only white Americans and Europeans, but even native Hondurans who refuse to look beyond the most surface level elements of the album, and who represent the elements of the culture and financial situation which prevented Monty from expressing and being themself in full-form. I had the honor to speak with Monty for several hours about their work, as well as the inspirations behind it, and I mentioned the review I saw on the infamous website, rateyourmusic.com from a native Honduran man. As of now this review has been deleted, but on her website is a screenshot and response to this reviewer, who essentially claims that Monty fails to truly capture an “authentic” representation of Honduran history and musical culture. Firstly, this is a very personal blow, which even made me uncomfortable and disappointed second-handedly, but Monty gave me an eloquent response, and has also included one on their interactive website. In her (justifiably) passionate words, “none of these people when they engage with my album critically dare to touch any of the album which is not historical, but is instead about me, about nearly dying, about transitioning, about discovering myself.” EXACTLY! Despite the appearance of the album, as I hope I’ve demonstrated, the album is clearly not strictly historical. Furthermore, any historian will tell you this: what good is studying history if you can’t apply it to the now, when things are always changing? If we treat history like past events which don’t affect today, which don’t involve years, decades, centuries, even millennia-long processes which are ongoing today and continue to evolve, there’s no point. On “Friends/Enemies (Earnest/Irony) [Disolución],”-- wonderful title by the way – Monty says, “It's hard when your friends. Instead become your enemies. They won't accept your identity. They'd rather see the end of me.” So my first thought of course related to Monty’s queerness, and queerphobia of the American population, and probably Hondurans as well. But this is just as much an expression of Hondurans’ resistance to changes in expression of Honduran culture; in Monty’s case, expression of music.
You see, Monty sees herself now as a part of a very long line of Hondurans expressing themselves in the face of colonialism. An important part of that line is Francisco Morazán, who poetically died the same day (20 years after) Honduras’ independence was declared – 200 years ago as of 2022. They reference this on “Canción Para Guillermo.” Also included are the musical artists Monty has mentioned, the Godoys in the Sandinistas, Rubén Blades for his influential and prolific salsa music, and of course, Guillermo. Sure Monty isn’t, at least not right now, directly involved in Honduran politics the way most Americans would think about political actors, but from that viewpoint, neither was Guillermo. But he was still the most popular, and perhaps even the most well-liked figure in all of Honduras; his influence is unquestionable. Monty does not raise herself to that level of history in a sense of arrogance, not in a way which would place them as one of the other ‘Great People’ of their country and culture’s history. It’s not just about specific individuals who did very good things. Guillermo’s album was written alongside a performance connected with Julio Escoto’s “El General Morazán Marcha a Batallar desde la Muerte” (General Morazán Marches to Battle After his Death). It’s not just about Morazán, the man, it’s about what he represents. That’s what the whole project is about. It’s about continuing the fight. Pushing and progressing what now Remains an Unfinished Experiment. Monty isn’t the only one who’s doing this, Guillermo’s family is doing this, political parties in Honduras and all across Central America are doing this, even Monty’s partner Hex, who I’ve been lucky enough to know for almost 3 years, is doing it. Everyone, some more consciously and perhaps some more effectively than others, is continuing this fight by living their lives. This album is a tribute to all of that effort, all of that existence, all of that life.
No wonder Monty is such a hard worker, they’re trying to convey the effort and passion of all of Honduras on this album! It’s certainly a lot of tiring work, but it’s just as fulfilling for the artist to have a project which reflects what matters most to them in such a gorgeous and unparalleled way. By the way, the website is STILL being worked on. Even that is an Unfinished Experiment. That’s exactly why it’s so easy to get so obsessed with every detail about this project. Firstly, Monty elegantly lays it all out for you, and is usually eager to interact with anyone who’s willing to reciprocate at least a fraction of their passion. But along with this, the immense level of detail in the album is jaw-dropping. Even I, as just a reviewer and superfan of this album, have poured hours into this album. I firmly believe that all of that time was worth it.
I wish I had more to say about a lot of the cultural importance of the musical characteristics of this album, but it’s not something I know as much about. I’ll give a tiny summary here. Monty describes themself as a “freak folk” artist, which is a pretty fascinating and unique genre. Musically the album is incredibly well put together. “Compay”—especially that live version, god—is incredible. The poetry on “By the Bunches” is very detailed and packed with multiple metaphors stacked on top of each other. The tributes to Guillermo are both well-deserved and carry out their intention magnificently, and the connections between history to her own life and expressions of her own identity have so many layers. If you have the time/energy, I highly recommend you listen to it on Bandcamp and read the lyrics. You can also choose to financially support Monty there. In their opinion, not only do you have a moral obligation to pirate music but also to support struggling artists as long as you can. The lyrics are all listed, along with the translations, on cime.casa and on the album’s Bandcamp page, and everything else you’d want to research is on either montycime.com or cime.casa.
There’s honestly so much more I could say about this album, but the best way to figure it out for yourself is to listen to the album, and if you find it compelling, look at the lyrics, and check out cime.casa. It’s a very elaborate and unique experience on an album. I chose to talk primarily about the complex themes and a lot of things that seem ‘external’ to the album, but there’s so much to say about every aspect, it’s impossible to cover everything in one review. Make sure to do your research if you want to fully understand it, but Monty has graciously laid a lot of it out for us. Make sure to check out Guillermo’s album too, which is an incredible piece of work (but listen to the version that’s about 14 minutes longer on her YouTube channel – it’s better than the one on streaming).
The only way I feel faithful ending this review is to end the album with the same suggestion as Monty does. I won’t spoil the ending, because the effect it has if you’re not expecting it is wonderful, but the takeaway is not only that Monty wants you to be interested in the stuff she’s interested in, because of course she does – who wouldn’t after pouring days (literally, multiples of 24 hours) into this masterpiece. But most importantly for yourself, or for whatever cause you’d like to dedicate your work to, the devotion she draws you in with and encourages you to exhibit yourself is intoxicating. I don’t think there’s anything I can say I’ve put the same time and dedication into, but after this experience I absolutely want to. The outcome seems to be nothing but euphoric.
-Lily Lazar
For those of you who read this entire review, I deeply appreciate the time you’ve spent reading about an album from an artist I’m certain you’re not aware of. Even though I now consider Monty to be a friend of mine, as well as a fascinating person to talk to, (I can’t believe we spent over an hour discussing RXKNephew and Detroit rap) the music really just stands for itself. Well, not really, but the incredible quality of the entire experience is apparent outside of that. I’d also like to give thanks to my friends Kydan (@thaiboybebop on instagram), for recommending the album to me, and Hex, for introducing me to Monty which sparked a sense of curiosity I haven’t been able to enjoy in many years. For those of you who do listen to the album and continue your research, I hope you enjoy it, and even if you can’t relate, (I certainly can’t in a lot of ways), I hope the passion that’s so clearly put into it inspires you.
