If you are a fan of Fernando Perdomo, you know how prolific and talented the multifaceted artist is. Perdomo has given us a box set’s worth of progressive rock instrumentals with his twelve-disc ‘Waves’  series, but the artist is not resting on his laurels.

‘DOS’ by Broken Sound is a strange and electric thrill of a record—part satire, part sermon, and all bold sound experiment by Fernando Perdomo and Michael Collins, the two-man force behind the Los Angeles duo. They jointly squeeze a flood of technicolor moods out of their minimal setup: one Fender Bass VI, a drum kit, and a pair of fearless voices. The result hovers somewhere between structured chaos and melodic clarity, carving a distinct identity in an overcrowded alt-prog landscape.

The album opens with the swagger of musicians who know exactly what they’re doing and couldn’t care less if you do. Its ten tracks swing between razor-edged riffs and sprawling rhythmic tangents, echoing the duo’s shared history with art-rock, new wave, and fusion. Much as their debut amused listeners with its tongue-in-cheek take on pandemic ennui, ‘DOS’ feels like a more resolved statement—both playful and politically aware. There’s a pulse of urgency beneath the jokes, a recognition that the cultural weirdness of 2025 isn’t just fodder for fun but material for truth-telling.

Perdomo’s Bass VI serves as both anchor and disruptor, splitting time between melodic hooks and subsonic growl, while Collins’ drumming provides the controlled chaos that drives each piece forward. Vocally, the pair trade off lines with knowing irony; even when the lyrics lean absurd, the delivery cuts sharp. There’s prog flair here—odd meters, fractured breakdowns—but also the raw directness of punk and flashes of jazz phrasing. It’s a messy, intelligent blend that never feels indulgent.

More than anything, “DOS” is a concept document about making art in an unstable world. It captures the feeling of living through noise—cultural, political, digital—and turning that dissonance into something unexpectedly tuneful. Beneath the humor and irony sits a quiet sincerity, a guarded hope that strange times might still produce beautiful things.

Album opener, “National Trauma,” is a quick splash of cold water and an excellent example of the duo’s knack for turning societal headaches into bass-driven espresso shots.

“Melt the Bots.” Imagine a protest song for the A.I. apocalypse, with riffs that snarl and a chorus that feels like lighting up every warning sign on the dashboard. “They taught a robot how to sing / They taught a robot how to steal art”. The song holds nothing back.

“Everybody Wants to Screw the World” recalls a similarly titled song from Tears for Fears, but with a much sharper message and wit. Like the bastard child of punk energy and ‘80s pop sarcasm. It’s got balls and melody, and a bridge that’ll have your pulse flipping. 

“Release” is not quite tender (and still twitchy) ode to all the music trapped inside our heads. 

Album closer “Zapruder’s Other Films” is a fascinating journey that connects JFK conspiracy tapes with contemporary surveillance blues. 

Indeed, ‘Dos’ is a fascinating journey. The duo has also released a self-titled debut in 2023, which is worth your attention. 

‘Dos’ is a delightfully weird and utterly original journey that’s more than worth the trip. Get it at https://brokensound.bandcamp.com/album/broken-sound.