REVIEW: mango mango mango - Cryptid Country

At a time when queer voices have never needed be to heard louder, MANGO MANGO MANGO is continuing their charge with their latest album Cryptid Country, an album that speaks volumes in its striking messages and powerfully crafted instrumentals with barely a shout raised in its sensitive, richly low vocals.

Hailing from Edinburgh, MANGO MANGO MANGO, created by Mags Gwynne, is a self-producing artist that refuses to stay in the lines of genres, blending EDM with alt and indie-rock into a unique outlet affectionately labelled as “cryptid-pop”. The heart of the music hasn’t changed though, with MANGO MANGO MANGO keeping the focus on queer identity and experiences, and Cryptid Country not only continues this thread but explores these subjects in the current society where it’s more oppressive and terrifying to simply live as yourself at no cost to the wider world.

further and further from help is an immediate dive into the raw and distinctive techniques used, distortion giving way to theatrical synths, heavy panting, and the crush of bracken as MANGO MANGO MANGO fights for a clear path, dropping abruptly into a languid metronome and 80s synths and electronic drums under the lyrics “she’s looking for me”, beginning the subtle story of Cryptid Country that’s centred around a creature that replaces the artist but is unable to fully resemble their character, in a metaphorical display of “othering” that many in the LGBTQ+ community relate to. sick dog bursts in with distorted, aggressive guitar that pierces through the melancholy riffs and slow vocals periodically, a hint that it could shift into a fully-fledged rock track but continuously held back by Gwynne until the final minute of cinematic synths and riffs that explodes in power.

dead name was one of the select tracks rolled out over the last year to unveil Cryptid Country, and it solidly represents the album in its message of queer identity and its musical approach of EDM rhythms and dramatic synth breaks as a monotone recording echoes out with “a person by name”. by a river mixes nature sound effects with gradually building synths, a technique heard in the album’s intro but this is the first full experimentation in the first of three interludes. let your guard down comes in with an undeniably indie sound that dances the line of sorrowful and upbeat, the only indication of the true emotion in the vulnerable lyrics “as much as I love you, I let my guard down”. Gradually building on the intro, Guts releases like a breath into Gwynne’s rich voice and clean guitar and builds back up again in volume and additional stacked instruments as Gwynne sneers at an unseen entity “you don’t have the guts like I do, to tell them all the truth”.

quelle horreur steps away from the soft indie sounds back into EDM elements and steady beats as the vocals begin to layer over another and the POV seems to shift to the protagonist destroyed earlier in the story as they beg to be brought back to life. Second interlude starsong feels like a wordless lament of stirring guitar harmonies over a backdrop of echoing strings, descending into crashing drums and distorted howls. my enemy goes full throttle with a racing industrial beat and synth mix, fun to hear but somewhat drowning out Gwynne at first until they layer vocals at higher octaves and accentuate their lyrics against the undulating synthwaves. With a catchy, upbeat progression that feels almost anime-esque, lowpinklight is an interesting and enjoyable exploration of sound effects and staccato paces that doesn’t tie itself to one set genre or cadence, better to be appreciated as an experimental venture.

Sirens fall into more of a video game sound effect pattern on recruit over Gwynne’s soft voice before it levels out to a consistent note and the vocals rise and fall in a show of emotional turmoil. dontwannathink’s opening bars feel like a tense 80s horror movie soundtrack with its heavy bass synth spitting at the pace of a racing heartbeat and Gwynne’s lone voice cutting through the near silence, until more synths and a beefier electronic beat combine to pad out the track as their vocals rise in pitch and desperation proclaiming “I don’t wanna think about it”. Ending out as a juxtapose to how Cryptid Country started, final track big coat begins with stripped back acoustic guitar and Gwynne’s fuzzed voice until it reaches the middle of the track and merges into a soundscape of hopeful synths and glitchy effects, one final experimentation to represent the chaotic feeling of knowing yourself in a world that others you.

Score: 7/10

Cryptid Country will be released on 21st August 2026.

Words: Julia Stark

Photos: Isaac Reynolds