Valgur Shares Exclusive Look at New Video “El Castillo de la Pureza”

The first time I interviewed Valgur it was in their Mexico City living room, surrounded by piles of broken synthesizers. It was 2019 and the band’s debut album Zapandú was gaining underground buzz for its unusual collage of electronic sounds and esoteric motifs, which included eerie vampire aesthetics and dreamy Zapotec poetry. But underneath their otherworldly creations, universally human questions of religion, family, and indigenous identity have always reigned supreme.

During that initial chat, the sibling duo of Elizabeth and Hugo Valdivieso expressed a growing fascination with jazzy prog ensembles, dating back to their devout Christian upbringing in the mountainous state of Oaxaca. The stacks of instruments peppered across the apartment were being repaired in an ambitious — and hopefully affordable — effort to concoct fresh sounds for their next record. Four years later, those expansive, handcrafted ideas came to fruition on Valgur‘s sophomore LP ARMAGGEDON, an art-pop opus filled with Eighties drum machines, pitched-up anime vocals, and biblical iconography that landed on our best Spanish-language albums of 2023.

Valgur has grown into one of the most exciting and unpredictable bands currently working in Mexico’s evergreen indie scene. Revamping their theatrical stage show ahead of a recent opening slot for The Drums, they take the stage dressed in contrasting black and white, incorporating dramatic veils and swords, and with Elizabeth bearing a striking resemblance to Joan of Arc and folk specter, La Llorona. In tandem, nearly every track off ARMAGGEDON has gotten the music video treatment, with the pair embracing goth-punk on “Hijos del Caos,” and delivering a body horror-fueled critique of capitalist consumerism on “Vanidad.”

Now, the band is premiering the clip for throbbing album gem “El Castillo de la Pureza,” exclusively on Rolling Stone. The collaboration with Hello Seahorse! singer Denise Gutiérrez is a dazzling blast of post-punk and angelic harmonies sharply juxtaposed against lyrics about true crime and substance abuse. The video, directed by visual artist Esfera Permanente with photography from Alicia Nieto, unfolds like a found-footage cut of Gaspar Noé’s Suspiria, built on frenzied choreography and capturing the paranoid psychedelia of unwell teens searching for a quick fix. 

We caught up with Valgur while on tour to unpack the personal experiences behind the deceptively exuberant track and learned how a cocktail of MTV, church jams, and indigenous wisdom nourished their unique artistry.

Tell us about your origin story. What were your first adventures in music?
We first got into music and performing in the Evangelical church. Elizabeth started singing and acting in small theater productions at five years old, and Hugo played drums in a Christian praise group at the age of eight. A couple of years later we became part of the church band and that discipline shaped our teenage years. Meanwhile, at home, we collected instruments from a young age, writing songs as a game. We had so much fun experimenting and recording, entire days would pass without us ever stepping outside.

Family is extremely important within Valgur since not only are you siblings, but you also learned Zapotec from your grandmother. How do family and Oaxacan traditions intersect with your music?
Valgur’s lore is rooted in the domestic environment and our family dynamics. We’ve always analyzed our experiences, and that introspection manifests in themes of violence, religion, territory, language, indigeneity, and gender roles, as well as a constant questioning of identity. We lived in a traditional Zapotec household until the age of 17, inheriting a particular worldview and customs. But on the other hand, imagine sitting in our living room, having conversations in Zapotec, with late-Nineties MTV playing in the background, watching Home Alone and A Nightmare on Elm Street… By the time we moved to Mexico City we understood that wisdom and discourse are shaped by social conditions, so Valgur will always reconfigure itself according to new experiences.

While both your albums Zapandú (2019) and ARMAGGEDON (2023) are grounded in synthpop, this latest production injected post-punk, jazz, and prog. Tell us about your sonic evolution.
Oh, there’s a huge leap between both albums. For starters, there was a four-year period where we assimilated many new experiences and lessons that make up the sonic, literary, and theatrical collage of ARMAGGEDON. This time around you can hear influences from Michael Jackson, Kool N the Gang, and Britney Spears, [city-pop stars] Junko Yagami and Junko Akashi, [Christian singers] Marcos Vidal and Marcos Witt, and [prog ensembles] Torre Fuerte and Shaktak sprinkled throughout the record.

“El Castillo de la Pureza” is one of the most exuberant and enigmatic songs on ARMAGGEDON. How did it come about, and how does it relate to the music video’s paranoid narrative?
“El Castillo de la Pureza” was the name given to a very famous case of child abuse that took place in Mexico City throughout the 1950s, when it was discovered that a man kept his family locked in the house for 18 years. Later, in 1973, it was adapted into a film by screenwriter José Emilio Pacheco and director Arturo Ripstein, which we watched a bunch throughout the pandemic. We related to the story having experienced a six-month internment for addiction, where we had no contact with the outside world, and that made the song click. The video was directed by Esfera Permanente, a visual artist from Colima, Mexico, with photography from Alicia Nieto. The clip alludes to the film through the three characters trying to escape this room–utopia, will, and the future. “El Castillo de la Pureza” is a mental state that limits their perception and understanding of the outside world, and thus their desperation and confusion.

How did you coincide with Denise Gutiérrez for this song? Was she ready for the surrealist ride?
We met Denise in 2020, when she invited us to open a Hello Seahorse! show at the iconic, and since demolished, Plaza Condesa in Mexico City. After that collaboration we started talking about recording a song together and felt “El Castillo de la Pureza” would showcase her voice nicely. We told her the song explored themes of substance abuse and rehabilitation, and she connected to it in her own way, so we went to her studio and recorded all of her takes in one day.

There is a really unexpected but fun interview with Denise halfway through the song.
Yeah, we’re always thinking of new ways of approaching our songs, everywhere from lyrical structure, to performance, and greater themes worth exploring. In this instance we thought about breaking with the conventional rollout of a collaboration. People usually expect the guest to just sing or play an instrument, however, as big radio fans we decided to introduce Denise with an on-air interview. Our star narrator is Agustín Valdivieso, our best friend from childhood and someone we regard as the third Valgur. Whenever we want to feature voice acting, he’s our first call.

ARMAGGEDON is still quite new, but what can you tease as to the future of Valgur?
Fortunately, this album has brought many wonderful developments, including constant touring, which is a dream job! We were fully booked in 2023 and it’s looking like this year will be the same, starting with an extensive run of shows throughout Mexico. In the summer we’ll be playing our first shows in the United States, as well as the rest of Latin America. We’re also recording new songs, launching merch, and vinyl editions of Zapandú and ARMAGGEDON are dropping with Buen Día Records very soon. Most of all we’re grateful to the fans and our team over at Worldwide Records, Bandemia Fest, and Hits Futuros for believing in this project. This is a collective effort and they’ve all been essential in sharing the saga of ARMAGGEDON.

The first time I interviewed Valgur it was in their Mexico City living room, surrounded by piles of broken synthesizers. It was 2019 and the band’s debut album Zapandú was gaining underground buzz for its unusual collage of electronic sounds and esoteric motifs, which included eerie vampire aesthetics and dreamy Zapotec poetry. But underneath their otherworldly creations, universally human questions of religion, family, and indigenous identity have always reigned supreme.

During that initial chat, the sibling duo of Elizabeth and Hugo Valdivieso expressed a growing fascination with jazzy prog ensembles, dating back to their devout Christian upbringing in the mountainous state of Oaxaca. The stacks of instruments peppered across the apartment were being repaired in an ambitious — and hopefully affordable — effort to concoct fresh sounds for their next record. Four years later, those expansive, handcrafted ideas came to fruition on Valgur‘s sophomore LP ARMAGGEDON, an art-pop opus filled with Eighties drum machines, pitched-up anime vocals, and biblical iconography that landed on our best Spanish-language albums of 2023.

Valgur has grown into one of the most exciting and unpredictable bands currently working in Mexico’s evergreen indie scene. Revamping their theatrical stage show ahead of a recent opening slot for The Drums, they take the stage dressed in contrasting black and white, incorporating dramatic veils and swords, and with Elizabeth bearing a striking resemblance to Joan of Arc and folk specter, La Llorona. In tandem, nearly every track off ARMAGGEDON has gotten the music video treatment, with the pair embracing goth-punk on “Hijos del Caos,” and delivering a body horror-fueled critique of capitalist consumerism on “Vanidad.”

Now, the band is premiering the clip for throbbing album gem “El Castillo de la Pureza,” exclusively on Rolling Stone. The collaboration with Hello Seahorse! singer Denise Gutiérrez is a dazzling blast of post-punk and angelic harmonies sharply juxtaposed against lyrics about true crime and substance abuse. The video, directed by visual artist Esfera Permanente with photography from Alicia Nieto, unfolds like a found-footage cut of Gaspar Noé’s Suspiria, built on frenzied choreography and capturing the paranoid psychedelia of unwell teens searching for a quick fix. 

We caught up with Valgur while on tour to unpack the personal experiences behind the deceptively exuberant track and learned how a cocktail of MTV, church jams, and indigenous wisdom nourished their unique artistry.

Tell us about your origin story. What were your first adventures in music?
We first got into music and performing in the Evangelical church. Elizabeth started singing and acting in small theater productions at five years old, and Hugo played drums in a Christian praise group at the age of eight. A couple of years later we became part of the church band and that discipline shaped our teenage years. Meanwhile, at home, we collected instruments from a young age, writing songs as a game. We had so much fun experimenting and recording, entire days would pass without us ever stepping outside.

Family is extremely important within Valgur since not only are you siblings, but you also learned Zapotec from your grandmother. How do family and Oaxacan traditions intersect with your music?
Valgur’s lore is rooted in the domestic environment and our family dynamics. We’ve always analyzed our experiences, and that introspection manifests in themes of violence, religion, territory, language, indigeneity, and gender roles, as well as a constant questioning of identity. We lived in a traditional Zapotec household until the age of 17, inheriting a particular worldview and customs. But on the other hand, imagine sitting in our living room, having conversations in Zapotec, with late-Nineties MTV playing in the background, watching Home Alone and A Nightmare on Elm Street… By the time we moved to Mexico City we understood that wisdom and discourse are shaped by social conditions, so Valgur will always reconfigure itself according to new experiences.

While both your albums Zapandú (2019) and ARMAGGEDON (2023) are grounded in synthpop, this latest production injected post-punk, jazz, and prog. Tell us about your sonic evolution.
Oh, there’s a huge leap between both albums. For starters, there was a four-year period where we assimilated many new experiences and lessons that make up the sonic, literary, and theatrical collage of ARMAGGEDON. This time around you can hear influences from Michael Jackson, Kool N the Gang, and Britney Spears, [city-pop stars] Junko Yagami and Junko Akashi, [Christian singers] Marcos Vidal and Marcos Witt, and [prog ensembles] Torre Fuerte and Shaktak sprinkled throughout the record.

“El Castillo de la Pureza” is one of the most exuberant and enigmatic songs on ARMAGGEDON. How did it come about, and how does it relate to the music video’s paranoid narrative?
“El Castillo de la Pureza” was the name given to a very famous case of child abuse that took place in Mexico City throughout the 1950s, when it was discovered that a man kept his family locked in the house for 18 years. Later, in 1973, it was adapted into a film by screenwriter José Emilio Pacheco and director Arturo Ripstein, which we watched a bunch throughout the pandemic. We related to the story having experienced a six-month internment for addiction, where we had no contact with the outside world, and that made the song click. The video was directed by Esfera Permanente, a visual artist from Colima, Mexico, with photography from Alicia Nieto. The clip alludes to the film through the three characters trying to escape this room–utopia, will, and the future. “El Castillo de la Pureza” is a mental state that limits their perception and understanding of the outside world, and thus their desperation and confusion.

How did you coincide with Denise Gutiérrez for this song? Was she ready for the surrealist ride?
We met Denise in 2020, when she invited us to open a Hello Seahorse! show at the iconic, and since demolished, Plaza Condesa in Mexico City. After that collaboration we started talking about recording a song together and felt “El Castillo de la Pureza” would showcase her voice nicely. We told her the song explored themes of substance abuse and rehabilitation, and she connected to it in her own way, so we went to her studio and recorded all of her takes in one day.

There is a really unexpected but fun interview with Denise halfway through the song.
Yeah, we’re always thinking of new ways of approaching our songs, everywhere from lyrical structure, to performance, and greater themes worth exploring. In this instance we thought about breaking with the conventional rollout of a collaboration. People usually expect the guest to just sing or play an instrument, however, as big radio fans we decided to introduce Denise with an on-air interview. Our star narrator is Agustín Valdivieso, our best friend from childhood and someone we regard as the third Valgur. Whenever we want to feature voice acting, he’s our first call.

ARMAGGEDON is still quite new, but what can you tease as to the future of Valgur?
Fortunately, this album has brought many wonderful developments, including constant touring, which is a dream job! We were fully booked in 2023 and it’s looking like this year will be the same, starting with an extensive run of shows throughout Mexico. In the summer we’ll be playing our first shows in the United States, as well as the rest of Latin America. We’re also recording new songs, launching merch, and vinyl editions of Zapandú and ARMAGGEDON are dropping with Buen Día Records very soon. Most of all we’re grateful to the fans and our team over at Worldwide Records, Bandemia Fest, and Hits Futuros for believing in this project. This is a collective effort and they’ve all been essential in sharing the saga of ARMAGGEDON.