La Santa Cecilia - Someday New

Someday New, La Santa Cecilia
Universal Music Latino, USA
Rating: 43
by Carlos Reyes

Wearing a fluorescent green tutu and a flowery bandana on her head, La Marisoul was the first hit at Vive Latino this year. “Who is she?” questioned the people around me in the audience, not knowing that her band La Santa Cecilia (the very first opening act of this year’s Vive) is a Grammy award winning band –an award for which only about three percent of the lineup had even been nominated for. Performing at such a magnus festival was a big deal to the L.A. band, which was virtually unknown down in Mexico. When their thirty-minute set was over, they walked back to the backstage knowing they had finally showcased their songs to a very pleased audience –a much more Mexican and much younger crowd than what you’d found in their gigs in the states.

It’s not that fun to play the hipster snub critic game, but there was something that bothered me about their performance, and other La Santa Cecilia shows I’ve attended in the past. As a way of connecting to the audience, La Marisoul keeps shouting populist formulated expressions -sworn in Spanish of course- looking for the instant gratification that comes with it. Not to say that such stage practice isn’t genuine from such a fervid live act, but there’s a whole box of cheap thrills that they open up when subscribing to such an obvious provocation. Because really, there’s not much of a difference between the straining effect of shouting “Eso Chingao!” and that offered by putting Día de los Muertos skulls on the poster of your next Latin event. I was hoping it wouldn’t, but a lot of that discomfort transfers to tape in their latest record. At 29 minutes long, Someday New is a set of pristine-produced songs that are just a bit too polished and straightforward for their own good.

A chicanonized (via a Tejano accordion) cover of the Beatles’ “Strawberry Fields Forever” opens the album. La Marisoul’s voice is undeniably profound and indeed, soulful. It’s inevitable not to take such an opening as a statement for cultural clashing and a tailoring of identity. But don’t trust me too much on Chicano agency; my idea of the best Chicano musicmaker around is Central Valley’s Installed, who really couldn’t care less about these cultural wanderings. The record quickly changes gears with album highlight “Cumbia Morada,” practicing a very quintessential (but nicely paced) approach to cumbia. Things don’t get any better from there as they get into an all-encompassing conduct of covering every Pan-American sound they can, from the ranchera “Como Dios Manda” to covering José José’s “Cuidado” in tango. The execution of the music is clean, but there’s little outside-the-box exploration of the language of music.

Writing about Someday New is neither entertaining nor a shore. It’s almost a responsibility considering La Santa Cecilia has dethroned Ozomatli as the Latin token card in the industry. La Marisoul appeared next to Gloria Trevi, Kat Dahlia, and Leslie Grace at Billboard’s Divas Panel this year, sitting on the alternative music slot Carla Morrison took last year. There’s no denying La Santa Cecilia has worked hard to get here, and the intentions are certainly in the right place. Becoming the it band puts attention and responsibility right in front of you. And it's for the same reason, that the public and the media should demand to be represented with a less obvious sound and more awe-inspiring risk.

Kap G - Like a Mexican

Like a Mexican, Kap G
Independiente, USA
Rating: 78
by Pierre Lestruhaut

The debut mixtape from Kap G, 19-year-old Atlanta-based Latino rapper, starts with words from DJ Drama: “One thing about the rap game that’s always respected is authenticism.” It might sound like the old maxim that prophesizes how music should be judged mainly on its realness, yet no matter how many thinkpieces get regurgitated about the conflicts of authenticism in art; you can always grasp flashes of authenticism in the details. The best street life rap albums, from Illmatic to The Luca Brasi Story, are the ones that carry the vivid imagery you only get from living that kind of life. Rest assured, Like A Mexican is no Illmatic, but it’s the promise and first step of a rapper whose depiction of street, family, and party life, carries the rough and rich storytelling that’s usually the imprint of good rap.

Kap G starts the mixtape wailing like Waka Flocka Flame, but instead of yelling about getting fucked up with "killers and hood niggas," he yells "pesos, pesos, pesos," and "Qué pasa homes." He’s got the mastery of dropping pop culture references that will prompt a smile on rap nerds who love Paul’s Boutique for the same reason. In “Eddie Guerrero” he raps about what he’s willing to do to get paper, which we can guess has to be related to the deceased wrestler’s catchprase: "I Lie! I Cheat! I Steal!." Then in “That Paper” he states of how he has no problems "kicking bitches out" in the morning, despite how much they love him. He’s still a man of values though, as he recognizes in "La Familia," in which he shows the sort of respect and loyalty to those that are blood-related to him that would certainly make Tío Salamanca proud.

Even if lyrically it seems to have been made in the US-Mexico border, sonically this has Atlanta’s imprints all over it. What initially hits you while listening to the mixtape, is just how extremely well surrounded Kap G is. There's beats provided by the likes of Bangladesh, Pharrell (yes Pharrell), and Drumma Boy, and guest spots by Wiz Khalifa, Young Jeezy. But it’s the production that’s particularly admirable. Bangladesh is responsible for the first two beats and not only drops the most club-trashing ones but also adds a few samples (the danzón-like horns) that fit in with the “Like A Mexican” concept. With that exception though, it’s all about the same bombastic Southern rap and trap-hop production that’s been the backdrop for Atlanta's best songs these past few years. Squat Beats’ psychedelic synth lines in “R.I.P.” and “Fuck la Policía (FLP)” provide the mixtape’s best moments for pure aural bliss, and it's also when Kap G is at his best on the mic.

The young Atlanta rapper has the slow-paced flow of Rich Homie Quan in “Type of Way,” one that’s more focused on catchiness than lyrical prowess. It’s rapping that’s delivery-driven, and he sounds so drowsy and stoned in some songs that you can even see the smoke clouds that were probably circling the studio during the recording sessions. Even if he abuses Latino slang and cultural references a little too much, making it feel occasionally like the rap industry is attempting to connect with US Latinos, he can also go from hilarious when speaking of his preference of sex over romance ("Mami please don’t give me beso/I just want some good cabeza") to highly critical and poignant when verging towards social commentary on being a descendant of immigrants in the US ("So the cops pulled me over say the windows too tinted/Basically saying that my ‘migos ain't from here," "And my bro tatted up they think he MS13"). Even if the mixtape is a success mainly because Kap G has managed to acquire a top-notch set of supporting guests and producers, at such a young age he's got the delivery and shout-along hooks that make his peers right in placing such trust and hopes in him.

Neon Indian - Era Extraña

Era Extraña, Neon Indian
Mom + Pop, USA
Rating: 85
by Blanca Méndez

When I first heard that Alan Palomo would be retreating to Finland to record the follow-up to Psychic Chasms, my mind immediately leapt to images of Finland’s breathtakingly sparse beauty, of endless stretches of desolate landscapes, icy waters, and, of course, fjords. (Fjords!) I wondered what this would mean for Neon Indian’s sound, one that on Psychic Chasms was the opposite of the images that the mention of Finland had conjured for me. I was intrigued by the idea of more stripped-down soundscapes because, as much fun as it was, I had grown weary of Psychic Chasms with its unrestrained noise and carefree energy. It was just too summer for my liking. I knew Palomo had more to say, and he definitely proves me right with the perfectly-timed release of Era Extraña.

Palomo clearly, if abstractly, conceptualized this album as one about the stark, yet comfortable, loneliness of heartbreak. Mapped out by the checkpoints of “Heart: Attack,” “Heart: Decay,” and “Heart: Release,” Era Extraña loosely follows the story arc of a breakup. “The Blindside Kiss” occurs in the staying-at-home-and-staring-at-ceilings early stage, the one in which you allow yourself to wallow in the pain because you deserve at least that much. The tinny layers of sound and breathy, almost frustrated vocals convey that feeling of utter loss beautifully. Then “Hex Girlfriend,” as the title suggests, resents that curse of an ex-girlfriend for putting you through this and being perfectly okay with putting you through this.

“Heart: Decay” signals the beginning of the it-has-to-get-worse-before-it-gets-better period. “Fallout,” with its disconcertingly monotone vocals, is a plea to forget (“please let me fall out of love with you”), while the title track is the first glimmer of hope. The three songs that follow (“Halogen,” “Future Sick,” and “Suns Irrupt”) all represent a different kind of letting go. “Halogen (I Could Be a Shadow)” is a spectacularly enveloping piece, with steady, comforting percussion, delicate, inviting synths, and vintage girl group-evoking background vocals. All of these elements, while seemingly subdued, build a gorgeous vessel for ecstatic release. True to the typical post-breakup storyline, “Future Sick” is a bit of a regression. It wants to retreat back into the past and into itself because thinking of the future is literally inducing sickness. But Palomo manages to pull through, with “Heart: Release” as a sigh of relief and timid first step forward. “Arcade Blues” is a nice little bonus track to remind us (in case we weren’t already reminded by all of the previous tracks) of Palomo’s penchant for video games.

In many ways Era Extraña is a far more serious album than its predecessor. Thematically, it tackles heavier topics and emotionally it explores much deeper than Psychic Chasms. It has a more defined concept and narrative and approaches the experience of heartbreak, which countless of artists have undertaken in their art, in a way that hasn’t really been done before. At least not in the precise and nuanced way that Palomo has. Perhaps the most notable difference, most noteworthy growth, is in the album’s production. Even though there are still just as many elements this time around, they are much more refined, much better orchestrated, and much more indicative of Palomo as an artist. When you speak to him you get the sense that there’s so much going on in his head, but he somehow filters all of it into thoughtful, articulate, and engaging conversation, which is exactly what he did with Era Extraña.

Video: Neon Indian - "Polish Girl"

“In the dismal future, we’ll all be affixed to our respective wires and screens, dreaming about being virtually with the one that you love.” This is the hypothermic premise in Neon Indian’s new clip for the dazzling single, “Polish Girl.” In his review of the song (which is now open for download), Jean-Stephane Beriot referred to Neon Indian as a “synth-groove stylist,” and music video director Tim Nackashi not only agrees but also explodes Alan Palomo’s affliction for romanticizing synthetics. Whether it’s the video’s nonchalant production design or Palomo’s enormous eyes breaking the fourth wall, this dystopian and quite scary environment doesn’t seem as intimidating as those half-biological, half-mechanical cyborgs that threaten our future. Era Extraña is out now via Mom & Pop, and you’ve probably guessed it, but let us confirm, it sounds flat-out amazing on vinyl.