SXSW Entry #9: Natalia Lafourcade, LA ENTREVISTA

Photos by Daniela E. Galindo

A lot of us already know that Natalia Lafourcade will soon release the highly anticipated follow-up to Hu Hu Hu. But, up until a few weeks ago, basic details about the record felt like a complete mystery. Luckily, Club Fonograma got a chance to speak with Lafourcade about the new album following her outdoor presentation (a day performance of Torreblanca & Amigas) at Auditorium Shores. Many thanks to Lafourcade for the interview (and for the nice words about the blog) and to her manager for making it all possible.

Giovanni Guillén: How would you describe this new record?

Natalia Lafourcade: This album is going to be very different from the other ones. It’s a covers album. It’s a tribute for this artist and composer, Augustín Lara. Augustín is the inspiration for the record. And also, the artists who are collaborating with me because every artist had something to do with the way the songs sound. I have a collaborator on every song, mostly male singers.

GG: With these collaborations, would you say you're continuing to produce–like what you did with Carla Morrison and Ximena Sariñana?

NF: Yeah, I love it. I love producing people. Probably as much as I love singing and being on the stage. And it’s a thing that I just started to do, like, a year ago with Carla and Ximena. I don’t think I would do it with a project I don’t really like because you put a lot of energy–you have to focus. (Like) when we finished Carla Morrison’s first album, I was so emotionally involved that at the end I was exhausted! But in a good way. It’s just because I’m like that. I’m very passionate about things that I like.

GG: Do you know what kind of producer you are?

NF: I don’t know if I consider myself a producer yet. I love producing people but I don’t know how to do it. I just go in and tell them my opinion. I have a good team with my engineers, my studio, and some other friends and musicians that will help make the song. I remember when I was making my first album, I had this difficult time with the producers. It’s very difficult when you, as an artist, want to do something with the sound, and then the producer has another vision and they don’t let you go where you want to go. And I think that, I mean, I don’t know how to produce but my intuition tells me that you have to let the artist go where the artist needs to go. That way you build the perfect environment. To get it there, to get it right, in the end, it’s their album, not mine. When I worked with Ximena and Carla I was just giving my opinion. We could do this or go there but, in the end, the decision was taken by them.

GG: You mentioned Augustín Lara, and I know you performed at the Bicentenario. It seems to me that lately you're getting more in touch with your Mexican roots.

NF: Yeah, definitely

GG: What inspired that?

NF: The Bicentenario. Totally. Before I was more like, “Oh, yes. I want to go out of my country."

GG: Places like Canada?

NF: Well actually, Canada is a part of my heart. Definitely. I need to go back to Canada and be there for a while because I miss it a lot. But, when I was working with Alondra de la Parra on the Bicentenario, on the show, she told me, "You should go and reach some composers and writers–Mexican writers. Not just, like, José Alfredo Jiménez, the ones we all know. You should go and reach for someone that you don’t know and see if you can find a song that you want to sing." And then I went on the Internet, on YouTube, and I started searching names and I ran into Augustín Lara. I heard all the songs from the past that we know, but I also started listening to the songs that I didn’t know and I fell in love. Especially with the way he used to write. I was like, "Wow! This is so amazing!" The music, the harmonies, the lyrics, the poetry. And I was so impressed that we had that talent in our country. I also wondered if the people my age would know his music and his compositions.

GG: So, you're also trying to introduce him to another generation?

NF: Definitely. I wanted to do another thing–working on a covers project–but I didn’t want to do just any covers. I was actually thinking about Violeta Parra. La Chilena. But I also wanted to expose something from Mexico. So, when I ran into Augustín’s stuff I fell in love. Hopefully there will be someone who'll feel connected the same way that I did.

GG: I know that Augustín Lara composed a lot for films, is that something you want to do? Soundtracks and movie scores? For me, Las 4 estaciones del amor sounds like a movie soundtrack.

NF: I hope one day I can definitely do that. I imagine myself living in a small cabin in the fields, taking care of children and making music for movies, you know? (Laughs).

GG: But then where would you perform?!

NF: Well, I love performing too. But it’s in my list of dreams. It’s something that I love. To me, music, the images, and all of that come together. When I’m writing, I’m also imagining a video to the song, I’m thinking about the images. Also, when I build the concept. I guess it all comes together and, eventually, I see myself working on soundtracks.

GG: Your last album, Hu Hu Hu, was full of organic sounds. But then there was this b-side, "Lluvia que cae," which featured electronic music. Is that also something you want to experiment more with?

NF: Yeah, probably yes. Especially now I feel like I want to go there. It’s funny because this new album doesn’t have that at all–it still has this organic thing that was in Hu Hu Hu. It's as if Augustín Lara and I would’ve sat together and written the songs. It's very pretty.

Vive Latino 2012: Day Three

by Claire Frisbie

While Saturday at Vive was all about the new class of Latin American musical innovators and something of a serious continuous musical high, Sunday was very much (though not entirely) the opposite. I’m not sure how they determined the lineups for each day, but Fatboy Slim was the “headliner” on Sunday. ‘Nuff said.

Unfortunately, we got there just after the one actually relevant mainstage act (Hello Seahorse!) had played. Word has it that Denise got very emotional and cried while she sang and jumped into the crowd at one point. I also missed Tropikal Forever, whom I would have loved to check out, but a gal needs her beauty rest and chilaquiles.

So after some Balkan bouncing around in the sun to Gogol Bordello, we hit up a very full Carpa Intolerante for some cumbia cósmica from Toluca. Sonido San Francisco had people moving. Alternating between Colombian-style cumbia mixed with electronica to something of a rebajada rock fusion with matching psychedelic visuals, they were tons of fun. Unfortunately we left early because I insisted on catching Illya Kuryaki and the Valderramas for some reason.

I feel like I need to justify myself somehow. IKV was very much a part of my adolescence. Knowing all the words to “Abarajame” was like a rite of passage. I understand they’re ridiculous—they always were (funk meets kung fu movies meets “hip hop” and an eager libido? Che, why not?). But “Coolo” is an awesome party song, and “Jennifer del Estero,” my favorite, is hilarious. Plus, I was a huge fan of Emmanuel’s solo pop effort a couple years back. My expectations were unreasonably high.

Illya Kuryaki’s entire set felt like a painful throwback. None of us needed to go through that. Leather pants with white fringe, never-ending guitar solos, unsexy pelvic gyrations, mediocre sound, unjustified ego. They seemed to play all their “obscure” songs that no one knew—including a new track (they’re baaack!) that was thoroughly forgettable—, so by the time “Coolo” came around, we were all so relieved that we danced, more out of bored nostalgia than actual enjoyment of the performance. Dante and Emma, I love you guys, but this was not a good idea; some music should just remain in one’s adolescence along with braces and unfortunate hairstyles.

After the IKV debacle, I really needed something to cleanse my palate, and Spanish experimental pop outfit Manos de Topo did just that. I wasn’t familiar with their music at all, and I’m still not sure if I could really listen to it on a regular basis, but I definitely appreciated it. Singer Miguel Angel wails all the lyrics in a desperate, shrill crying voice (how do you say “chillar” in English? ‘cause that’s what he does), apparently mocking super sappy pop music. It’s almost performance art, and I was impressed with how many fans they had because, frankly, it’s really weird. In a good way.

We got so caught up in the Manos de Topo bizarreness that we almost missed Pedropiedra, who had drawn quite the crowd over at la Carpa Intolerante. We got there just in time for "Vacaciones en el más allá," which had all eight black and red-clad band members owning the stage. Gepe played drums. I developed a serious girl crush on the back-up singers. Everybody was dancing. They closed with Pedro and Gepe's song "Oh Oh," and we all sang along. Pedropiedra's generally not my cup of tea, but I really really dug this show. Refreshing!

After a much-needed break, we mosied on over to the Escenario Indio Blanco for some Austin TV, who are always a treat. They ended up starting about twenty minutes late—the first delay in the entire festival for me—, and finally appeared on stage in all-white with what looked like big marshmallow samurai ghost bobble-heads, which mostly came off after the first song (making them look a tad klan-like in the white pointy hoods they wore underneath, eek). But they were all about positivity and love, urging us to “sing along” to their moody instrumental rock however we wanted to, and to make sure we made at least one new friend that night. Good vibes, good vibes. Their set was solid, with a pretty significant crowd, which they were clearly very appreciative of, given Molotov was already playing on the main stage.

We too felt the need to catch the massivity that was the Molotov performance and headed back to the main stage to take it all in from high up. It was just about as packed as the night before, with a lot more testosterone in the air. Everyone was super into the show, moshing and chanting along, fists in air at all the right moments for “Gimme Tha Power,” “Voto Latino,” and “Frijolero” (etc.). Decked out in matching denim vests and looking a wee bit past their prime, the Molotov dudes seemed kind of like a parody of themselves. But I suppose in a way they always have been? The whole show just seemed a bit stale and irrelevant, although not lacking in rockstar bravado. Even their attempts at being political seemed almost farcical to me. My own cynicism and jadedness aside, though, the roar and energy of the crowd was undeniable ("Puto" felt like a an aftershock from Tuesday's temblor), and perhaps a little Molotov does a body—or soul—good, given the current political climate.

Molotov would have been a weird way to have ended my Vive Latino weekend, and Fatboy Slim even weirder. Luckily, much of the overflow from Molotov ended up at the smallest stage of the festival, and everyone was dancing as Mexico City rockabilly group Rebel Cats rocked out like it was 1955. In pompadours and matching sequined red blazers, the three young guys and a dad (!) put on quite the show, standing on top of the upright bass and jumping down into the crowd. I didn't catch any of Fatboy Slim's set, but I think it's safe to say that the Rebel Cats had a better dance party going. This was definitely the right way to end my Vive weekend.

And so, as cleanup and disassembly crews arrived at Foro Sol to take apart the festival, we made our way home, ears ringing, feet sore, musical appetites satiated. Almost two weeks later, I think I've finally recovered.

Festival Nrmal 2012, Part Four: Los Rakas, LA ENTREVISTA

Photos by Luisa Luisa Martinez

Upon recovering from a come down that lasted well over two weeks, it dawned on me that I had a nice stack of interviews in my friend Luisa's iPhone that were just waiting to be transcribed. One such interview happened to involve Raka Rich, who was flying solo in Monterrey on behalf of his main project, Los Rakas, for this year's edition of Festival Nrmal.

After figuring out five minutes into the interview that the recorder was off, we managed to get a nice flow of conversation going, whereupon I learned everything I wanted to know about the Bay Area act but was afraid to ask (seriously, it took me about 10 minutes to finally muster up the courage to interrupt Rich's FIFA ’12 match). Thanks to Rich for sparing some of his prized XBOX360 time, and to Natalia for setting up this lovely rendez-vous. Oh, and props to Luisa for making me look so smart with those hand gesture shots.

Conejito Colvin: Alright, I’m just gonna put this here and then we can talk.

Raka Rich: Yeah.

CC: So yeah, the "Copita de Champaña" [video], ‘cause I mean, you guys have quite a few videos out there, and I wanted to ask you, for this video, and the other videos that you’ve done, how much goes into it from your guys’ ideas?

RR: Well, a lot.

CC: Would you say it’s like your concept and you just like…

RR: For the most part, yeah, except every video that we’ve done has pretty much been us telling the other directors what we want, you know, and we have a lot to do with that, that’s why we independent so we know how we want to present the world, how we want to present ourselves to the world. The only video we didn’t have a lot of control with is like "Barrio" and "Gangsta," which is our new video.

CC: And what did you think of the result?

RR: Oh man, those are my favorite videos, you know what I’m saying?

CC: (laughing) The ones you had nothing to do with were your favorite videos?

RR: (laughing) Yeah, the ones I had nothing to do with were my favorite videos. It was tight.

CC: But when you do tell people what you want…I mean I can sorta get it cause I’m in an independent band too…

RR: Yeah.

CC: And we manage ourselves, and we give the concept that we want to the directors and we’re always having some kind of say in what we do, 'cause like you said, you want to present yourself in a certain way, and that goes in the music, it goes in the PR, and it goes in the videos, and in everything that you do.

RR: Yeah.

CC: So, what do you think is the...I don’t want to say the concept...but when you participate with these directors, what is it that you wanna, like, maintain there?

RR: Just keep building relationships, man, ‘cause those directors are like top of the line, you know what I’m saying? They do big things, so they gonna keep getting better, and we’re also learning from those kinds of directors, ‘cause we pretty much direct our own videos, so it's like we picking up little things here and there, and that’s important, man, especially in the music industry. You wanna learn as much as you can, so…

CC: If you can do everything…

RR: Especially independently, ‘cause we’re independent, so it has a lot to do with it. You know we don’t have a label behind us [saying], "A'ight this is the director you’re gonna work with, this is the songs, this is the producer." Nah. It's real, everything is real, we have good chemistry with these individuals that we work with.

CC: So you feel that that way it keeps, I don’t know, the idea, the music, more pure…?

RR: Yeah! Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. You know why? It's because when you doin’ it like that there’s no rules, you know? You’re not really thinking about the money, you just thinking with the passion. You love it.

CC: You’re doing it ‘cause you like to do it.

RR: Yeah, these labels look at you more like a dollar sign, and I have nothing against labels, you know what I’m sayin’, if they’re fair…

CC: I mean they’re struggling right now. Like, for example, my friend (who shall remain nameless), they really did change after they signed to a big label, and everything they do now is with some kind of commercial end. I mean they're enjoying it, but at the same time I feel like they feel like, well, you know, "I’m doing this because it makes money, because it's commercial." They don't really have as much control now as they used to when they did it because they liked it.

RR: They gonna tell you everything, man. "Oh no, that’s not the song that we should put out, we should put out this song." I don’t want that problem. I’d rather just stay independent and do what I do and make my own choices, call my shots.

CC: That, that’s cool, I admire that.

RR: Yeah.

CC: That’s the way to go. So tell me a little about the video "Ta Lista," You guys kinda feature this Mexican iconography, you got the Mexican flag and stuff. Is there something, some kind of relation that you guys feel you have with Mexico, or is it just coincidental because you’re in Oakland?

RR: What happened was, we wanted to do a video for ''Ta Lista," and it just happened to be Cinco de Mayo, so we just went and celebrated with our people. Didn’t really have nothing to do with the video, was just something about…like I said earlier, working with record labels, they’re gonna tell you what to do and how to do it, we just did whatever we wanted and just had a good time, man, and that’s the kind of vibe we give out. And Cinco de Mayo, we’re celebrating with the Mexican people, you know what I mean?

CC: I used to live in Oakland, actually. I lived there for the last semester that I was in college. I used to go to Berkeley, so I know you guys play shows there all the time. I got to see you guys at Tormenta [Tropical] once, a little while ago. It was the last time you played at Tormenta. And I know from being in Berkeley, you guys aside from playing a lot of local shows, you play a lot of free shows…

RR: Oh, yeah, yeah!


CC: Going back to that idea of community, like you said you celebrated [Cinco de Mayo] with the Mexican people, would you say that community is like a big role in your music, or not just in your music, but in the way you guys put yourselves out there?

RR: Yes! Yes, because in the community is where we learned how to do this independently. There was a youth center, Youth Uprising, in East Oakland, and it’s a community center, so we went in there and learned how to record and really just got to record our music in the studio and got to develop and evolve. You know, studio time is very expensive. We used to go in there for free, you know what I’m saying, 'cause it was a part of the community, so from there, they’re teaching classes on how to independently sell your music.

CC: So, in the way that you guys have developed, community is like a huge role…

RR: Yeah it’s a huge role in everything we do! We plan on building a youth center eventually for the community.

CC: I was gonna ask you about that. Do you feel that in the future you’d want to do more to give back to the community?

RR: Of course. Yes, I would because it’s like, I’m so grateful for that, why wouldn’t I want to share that with somebody else?

CC: So, do you feel you represent your community in the Bay Area, in Oakland, more so, 'cause you guys also do mentions of Panama and stuff in your music? I mean, how do you feel about that? Just being a Latin artist, do you feel you’re representing the Latin culture or do you feel it’s more of a local thing?

RR: I feel like I’m representing the Afro-Latin culture.

CC: Why?

RR: 'Cause, you know, a lot of Afro-Latinos, you don’t really see them in the mainstream TV or Latin TV, and we come out here to live the American dream, you know, as Latin people, and being in Oakland, being Black, there’s already a lot of Black people. They have erased us, 'cause you know we get their attention. “These are some Black people speaking Spanish!” So, they welcomed us, we one of them. We Black, so, we’ve been able to showcase that with them. And it has grown, you know. Latin people start coming, Filipinos, white people, now we just gotta go touch our Latin folks…

CC: Is that a motivation for playing shows like this one, festivals like this one? Coming out and just being known? 'Cause you guys have gotten a lot of hype in the Latin community, recently. For example, Club Fonograma, which is U.S. blog but geared toward the Latin community, and a lot of people got to know you in recent years from Mexico, and stuff like that. I mean, how do you feel about that?

RR: It feels good! 'Cause you wanna touch the people. That’s a great feeling, man, people recognizing and just liking the music, 'cause that’s what we do it for, for you to like it and hopefully take it to the heart, 'cause we do it from the heart, so that’s how we want people to receive it.

CC: Do you wanna play more shows in Latin America? Like, in Mexico?

RR: Yes! I would because, look, the people we perform for, the majority in the U.S. are English-speaking people, so it's like they just like it because they can feel it. They don’t understand the lyrics, but they can feel the music, so, just imagine if they understood what we were saying. We feel like the Latin people, they need to hear this. 'Cause they will understand it, they will embrace it as well. Our style of music, you know, it’s hip hop, R&B, you don’t really hear that in the Latin gang. I feel like we have that to bring to the table.

CC: Yeah, that’s more American, I think.

RR: More American, yeah. I feel like we can be the ones to break it in to Latin America, you know?

CC: Hip hop and R&B?

RR: Hip hop and R&B.


CC: Cool. You have a solo project too, right?

RR: Yes.

CC: Is that something you do because it's something you can’t do with Los Rakas?

RR: It’s because we’re always in the studio, we got so many songs, like, as Los Rakas. If you listen to the Panabay Twist 1, even though it says Los Rakas, we got songs on there that I’m not even on, or [Dun's] not even on, but we still put it as part of Los Rakas, 'cause it’s just one, you know what I’m saying? And we just have to sometimes just do our own thing, you know?

CC: Yeah.

RR: We started as solo artists, we wasn’t a group, we started as solo artists. Then eventually we became a group. And sometimes...how do I put this? Sometimes you just gotta get it out there yourself, you gotta do your own thing. And, it don’t mean we’re breaking up or nothing, he does his own thing, I do my own thing.

CC: I know what that’s like. My band played this festival last year, but this year it’s only one of my bandmates with a side project. He’s doing it 'cause, like you said, he has to put himself out there, do his own thing.

RR: Yeah yeah yeah.

CC: It’s understandable, especially when you’re a band, sometimes there can be friction, and stuff like that…

RR: Exactly, it’s like some of the greats man, Willie Colón y Rúben Blades, you know. They were a group, they separated, did their own thing as solo artists, then got back together y así. The Willie Colón and Rúben Blades movement continues, even stronger, I think. So it’s even more music, we got so much music we gotta put it out there.

CC: Yeah, I’ve thought about that. It’s stronger because it’s a larger kind of a scene or group of people doing stuff. So, right, you did the Raka Love EP.

RR: Yes.

CC: Do you feel that with every new release you’re doing something different? Like some evolution of the sound that you guys are doing?

RR: Yes, but not intentionally.

CC: It just happens organically.

RR: It just happens, man. This CD Raka Love is more like an R&B CD. We wanted to showcase that 'cause we didn’t showcase that we could do reggaeton. We didn’t done reggaeton, hip hop, we didn’t done R&B, we got some merengue stuff. We just wanna showcase that we can do any genre and make it sound good. There’s a lot of people that can only just do one genre, R&B or reggaeton, and that’s it, that’s all they can do. You put them on a hip hop video, and they gonna be lost. We can do it all.

CC: So how do you feel about the scene right now? I mean I’m vaguely familiar 'cause I’ve played with [Uproot] Andy and Geko [Jones] in New York, in ¡Que Bajo! I know them, I know Tormenta, I saw you guys play there, and there is kinda like a little circuit of like-minded promoters. How do you feel that scene? I mean it used to be a lot stronger than it is now, how do you see that scene now?

RR: How do I seen it now?

CC: Yeah, how do you think, I mean, just like, an assessment of what’s going on?

RR: Well you know, I was in Colombia with Geko a few months ago.

CC: They’re always going down there right? Andy and Geko.

RR: Yeah, yeah, yeah. So, I mean, I don’t even know what’s going on with that situation over there, but every time I link up with them we have a phenomenal time. Geko is like my brother, he’s a big part of being successful in Latin America I feel, 'cause he has his connections.

CC: And he does both sides, right? He’s got his cult following in the U.S., and he plays and has his following in Colombia and Latin America. That’s pretty cool. I think if you can achieve that I think that it’s pretty cool.

RR: Yeah he’s dope, he’s dope.

CC: So, I mean, anything else that you’d like to add?

RR: Man, just, uh, go to the website.

CC: (laughs) Go to the website.

RR: Check out LosRakas.com and we always got new downloads we got about 80 downloads for free on their they can download, we got the Soy Raka shirts, $7, get it, get it real cheap while it’s for a limited time.

CC: Well, can I ask you really quickly about the free releases? Is that something you do…do you have a position on that? Do you feel like music should be given away?

RR: When you’re starting up as an independent artist you have to give the music away for free.

CC: There’s no choice.

RR: There’s so much music that people don’t wanna give you a chance. They’d rather listen to the stuff that’s on TV they already getting brainwashed with. So I feel that if you give it to them for free they might listen to it. Now if you selling it to them, they’re NOT gonna listen to it, they’re not gonna know who you are.

CC: There’s no chance.

RR: So, independently, yes, I feel like I'll be giving music away for the rest of my life. BUT I will sell some of it. You gotta understand that, independently, it’s not, it’s not…

CC: It’s not sustainable.

RR: It’s not sustainable. I need you to help me out and support the movement so we can keep the movement going.

SXSW Entry #8: Javiera Mena, LA ENTREVISTA

Photo by Daniela E. Galindo

Two weeks have passed since I left Austin and said goodbye to SXSW. And even though I contracted the flu on the last weekend of the festival (shit was cray) and the memory of it all feels like a weird fading dream, I can vividly recall that Thursday of the Torreblanca y Amigas showcase because It was that magical. Being in the same room with the most powerful female players in Latin music (Andrea Balency, Ximena Sarinana, Natalia Lafourcade AND Javiera Mena) was amazing in itself, but seeing them perform left me in awe.

Following the showcase, Mena and I chatted about her time in Austin, music videos, and pochos. I don't know how, but I also managed to interview her. I would like to thank Mena and her manager for being the nicest and most approachable people in the world. I should also point out that this interview was conducted in Spanish and then later translated into inglés. Translating is hard work, and I'm starting to think it's not really my thing (just ask my Latin professor). But many thanks also to my fellow CF writers Andrew Casillas and Pierre Lestruhaut, my girlfriend Daniela, and my mom for their help when I was stuck.

Giovanni Guillén: Welcome to Austin. How are you enjoying the festival?

Javiera Mena: There are so many people here! Obviously this is my first time in the U.S. and first time participating in a festival of this scale. But it's certainly exciting and it feels great to be here.

GG: You're here promoting Mena, which came out about two years ago, correct?

JM: Year and a half, more or less. This is sort of the last wave of energy left in Mena (laughs).

GG: So, are you already thinking about the future?

JM: Definitely. What I want most right now is to return to Santiago, close myself off in the Cordillera, and just work on my new record.

GG: Any idea which direction you might take for this album?

JM: Not yet, I think when the ideas in my head are realized I'll know. Of course, if I have the lyrics and if I have the music the songs will decide that direction. I do think this next album could go a more psychedelic route.

GG: Psychedelic? Well on that note, do you see yourself once again working with electronic music exclusively or what other styles are you open to?

JM: Electronic music is something I'm drawn to because of the of punch it delivers, you know? Through drum machines, etc. I love that. But I'm very open to anything—even something stripped down to just guitar and voice, we'll see. Another reason why I'm excited about returning to Santiago.

GG: I know that you have very diverse music taste—everything from Juan Gabriel to My Bloody Valentine—what are some recent discoveries, bands you’re listening to now that might influence this upcoming record?

JM: Hmm, new things I like...obviously everything I listen to influences me in some way. When I discovered Grimes, for example, I became obsessed. I mean, just the fact that someone younger than me could move my world so much, I loved it.

GG: Wasn't she born in like '89?

JM: '88! But I love that things like that happen. And also, my friends that make music, people like Diego Morales who are always showing me things that inspire me. They don't have to be these huge biblical figures like Michael Jackson...

GG: Or the Beatles?

JM: Exactly. They can be these chiquilines that come out of nowhere. Lately Grimes has definitely moved me.

GG: I read an interview where you stated in a few years you feel as though you will have to emigrate from Chile.

JM: That's right.

GG: Could you explain that a bit more?

JM: Even though Chile is a beautiful country and the people are amazing, it's a place that geographically is just too far. I mean, so many hours just to come to a place like this. It's not like a country like Germany, which is far from here but is still close to everything else in Europe. Chile is a place with so much to offer, but in a way it's still difficult to make a career in music work. Especially in the business side. As much I would like to stay, I know that I'll have to emigrate because when I come to Austin, for example, it feels like there's a real industry here. And there is an industry in Chile, but it still has a long way to go.

GG: It's a little weird to hear that because, as someone who lives in the U.S., it feels like everything in music right now is happening in Chile or Argentina or in Brazil.

JM: There are a things happening- It's just hard to take things as far as I would like. Argentina is amazing, by the way.

GG: Well you've already toured there, and you just played in Mexico at Festival Nrmal and there's a mini-tour, correct?

JM: Yes, the plan is to go back to Mexico and play Vive Latino, that's something we've been wanting to do right.* What else do I have? Well, a few things planned that I can't talk about yet.

GG: No?! Well, I have to ask—are there any plans to tour the U.S. soon?

JM: No, no. Nothing's been set. I'm returning to do some promotion, but in fact I promised the Consul I wouldn't work because I don't have a work visa.

GG: Last question: did you see Club Fonograma's review of Mena?

JM: Of course! It came out as album of the year!

GG: It received a 100, do you feel Mena was a perfect record?

JM: Yes! (Laughs) No, I mean it's hard to say that about oneself. One keeps these things inside to be humble, but I do like Mena. I see Mena and Esquemas Juveniles, my two albums, and lately I've been feeling more attached to Esquemas. (With Mena) I wanted to make a record out of cohesive pop songs, and I think I achieved that. Of course it must happen in your work, deciding what is perfect must be difficult. It's especially difficult for me to call it perfect. I don't see it as a perfect record because to me, a perfect record is Michael Jackson's Thriller or Aphex Twin's Richard D. James. I see my album as a baby next to those gems.

GG: Well if that's a goal for you, there's still time to make a perfect record.

JM: Yes, but then again, it's like what is perfect? The issue is just far too relative.

*Javiera actually said the word "chingón" which in my head I thought was the coolest thing.

Vive Latino 2012: Day Two

by Claire Frisbie

Saturday was the day to attend Vive Latino 2012—some of the most buzzed about acts of the past year were performing, Café Tacvba was headlining, tickets were sold out, and the sun was shining. We had our day mapped out to the minute.

Columpio Asesino were already on the main stage, and I regret to report they were a bit underwhelming, but to no fault of their own, really. Their set was solid, but their music is too dark for blinding sunlight, methinks. The rather lethargic crowd did rise to the occasion, however, when they played “Toro,” cheering raucously when guitarist Cristina shouted—riffing on the song’s lyrics—, “Para que ir a Berlin si podemos estar aqui con ustedes en el Vive Latino?” (“Why go to Berlin if we can be here with you at Vive Latino?”). Seriously.

Next we dashed over to the Carpa Intolerante for Perrosky, who were the revelation of the day for me. It’s incredible the layers of garage rock, blues, and rockabilly the brothers Gomez are able to generate between just the two (2!) of them—it was as if Elvis had been somehow reincarnated in these two skinny Chilean dudes. Raw and refreshingly devoid of synthesizers and other gadgets, Perrosky rocked my world with a drum set, guitar, harmonica, and maraca.

Keeping things retro, we returned to Escenario Indio Verde for Vive veterans and música surf faves Lost Acapulco. The crowd had at least doubled if not tripled in size, and everyone was bopping, moshing, and doing the twist to hits like “Olvidemos El Romance” and “Frenesick.” I genuinely appreciate their whole shtick: the luchador masks, vintage visuals of shimmying vedettes, and misogynistic-but-we’ll-let-it-slide-this-time rapport between songs, but it kind of got redundant. We were just about ready to move on when the band started in on a cover of Los Saicos’ “Demolición,” which was easily the highlight of their set for me, even if no one else seemed to know the song.

Photo by Marlon Bishop

Then it was Astro time. We power walked over to the palm tree-flanked Carpa DanUp aka la Carpa del Yogurt aka la Carpa Tropical. I couldn’t have imagined a better setting to see Astro for the first time. The four guys burst onto the stage making monkey noises and launched into “Mono Tropical,” looking like hipster Trader Joe’s employees/Miami Vice extras in loud patterned shirts, skinny jeans, and sunglasses. There were some sound issues, but their energy was totally infectious, and man, what a show! Singer Andrés’s voice is absolutely incredible (and really is that high!), and keyboard player Nicolás had the lanky dude hip shake down. To the delight of the audience, they proclaimed DF their favorite place to play, and added, “En Chile nos quieren, pero acá mucho más!” (“In Chile they love us, but here [they love us] much more!”) And how. Astro was one of the bands I was most pumped to see at Vive, but part of me had been worried that their music might not translate to the outdoor stage. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Can someone please book a Panda Bear/Tanlines/Astro U.S. tour ASAP? Thanks.

Next up was one of my main motivations for coming to Vive this year: Juan Cirerol. Chicali’s bad boy troubadour has me completely enthralled, but I can conclude with absolute objectivity that he kicked some serious ass. I mean, he was trending on Twitter during the show and, if that doesn’t justify one’s badassness, I don’t know what does. Cirerol is a beast on the guitar, his singing style is so raw and earnest. He powered through “El Perro” and “La Banqueta,” and it was hard to believe that all this ruckus was coming from just one man. His stage presence is phenomenal, doused with booze and burps, his signature scrunched brow, the occasional air-split (that would be a jump and attempted split in the air—yep, he did that!), and norteño swagger for days. The overflowing Carpa Intolerante yelped and sang along with genuine fervor and joined in for a massive sing-along to “Se Vale Soñar” (extra cheers when he wailed “todos borrachos y locos”) and “La Chola,” which closed out his set. Todo más que fine, Juanito.

Cirerol’s set left me craving a stiff drink, so we breezed past the main stage (Camilo Lara aka Instituto Mexicano del Sonido in a kilt and colorful man-tights mashing up “Alocatel” and “Hey Mickey” with the guys from Calexico as his backup band), to re-fuel with sandwiches and dranks. Then it was back to the yogurt tent.

Carla Morrison. Oh my GAWD, Carla Morrison. It was truly an impressive thing to see the thousands and thousands of fans who came to see her at Vive: teenage girls with tears streaming down their faces, families with young children, embracing couples. By the time she cooed “tu me enchinas la piel” my entire body had been covered in goosebumps for, like, ever. It was refreshing to see her with a full band—her usually sparse accompaniment translates beautifully to more complex instrumentation. In the days leading up to Vive, she’d reached out to fans via social media to bring handkerchiefs to her show, and perhaps the most powerful moment of her set came when everyone waved them in the air and danced along to her latest single, “Hasta La Piel.” Next year, to the main stage!

Then there was an audience switch-up: out with the angsty teenagers, in with the fashiony hipsters. The screen to the right of the stage glowed “MENA” and chants of “Javiera, Javiera” began. I wasn’t sure what to expect given the conflicting Festival Nrmal and SXSW reviews on this blog, but I must say I was pleasantly surprised. I should also let it be known that I am not a diehard Javiera Mena fan (gasp!), and while I thought she sounded better than on her albums, my friends actually thought otherwise. Javiera: so polarizing! As in the case of Carla, the support of a full band (Jose and Rai from Dapuntobeat, plus a female keytarist/backup singer) worked to her benefit. Real drums added a lot to tracks like “Primera Estrella” and “Hasta La Verdad,” and the keytarist helped pick up some slack on Javiera’s sometimes weak vocals. What do you think?:

Meanwhile, la Carpa Intolerante was channeling Colombia as Monareta powered an electro-cumbia dance party. I’d like to point out that there was a dude on stage who played the cowbell with sincere concentration for the duration of their set. I can respect that. We joined the dancers and cheered in agreement as frontman Andrés shouted “Que viva la Carpa Intolerante!” Amen!

Then it was Tacvba time. I think the official headcount for Saturday was 70,000, and pretty much everyone who wasn’t moshing to Hocico over at Indio Blanco was figuring out the best spot to see Mexico’s most important band from. As we all waited for them to come on stage, anticipation growing, spotlights shot straight up from the center of the stadium, and out came a stage from behind the soundboard, Tacvbos on top.

Photo by Natalie Espinosa

As Ruben, Meme, Quique, and Joselo rose from the crowds, chants of “papa-ra-papa eo eo,” queued them up for their first song. They'd been on hiatus for the past few years, and they really brought out all the hits at this show. There was no waiting around through mediocre Sino tracks for your favorites tonight. After “El Baile y el Salón” came “Eres,” followed by a reggae/dub version of “Como te extraño.” The sound was horrible, but we didn’t care! Then came one of the coolest moments of the night. Instead of singing hits by Maldita Vecindad, Aterciopelados, and Caifanes in their standard “Popurock” medley, Café Tacvba proceeded to cover Nortec Collective, Hello Seahorse!, IMS, Porter, Carla Morrison, Quiero Club, Plastilina Mosh, Kinky, Dapuntobeat, Enjambre, and Zoé. I don’t know what was more moving: the fact that these giants of Mexican music were paying tribute to the next generation that they helped establish, or the fact that everyone in the audience seemed to know the words to the songs by these comparably smaller artists.

Post-popurock, the band ran (and Rubén, still on his cane, hobbled) through the audience to the stage. Unfortunately I can’t really tell you how the rest of their performance was because, with almost 70K people singing along at the top of their lungs, I could barely hear a thing actually coming from the stage, and honestly I didn’t mind. My inner repressed sociologist couldn’t help but stop and think how bizarre and cultish this all was, and wonder why we found it so enjoyable. But I quickly snapped out of it and joined all my new friends in screaming the lyrics to “Las Flores.” Better than therapy, I’m telling you!

Photo by Natalie Espinosa

Photo by Natalie Espinosa

You can peep the full setlist here, but it is worth noting that despite his injury, Rubén pulled through and joined the rest of the guys in the “Dejate Caer” dance (easily one of their best songs live). Oh, and they did perform one new song, “Charro Negro,” which honestly sounded pretty dull to me.

After wishing us, our parents, our uncles, grandparents, friends, etc. peace and water (seriously!), Café Tacvba bid us adieu with “El Puñal y el Corazón.” “Ya no puedo más…..” Oh what a day!

Vive Latino 2012: Day One

by Claire Frisbie

Hello there. I went down to Mexico City last week and this blog's lovely editors were kind/foolish enough to let me share my first Vive Latino experience with you all. I'm not one for official bios, but here are some things about me: full-time melómana, part-time "foodie," aspiring accordion player (in theory, not in practice), and bike enthusiast. Co-founder and former editor of Remezcla.com. Proud Brooklynite by way of Costa Rica, Mexico, Germany, and Chile. Long-time reader of Club Fonograma, thrilled to contribute for the first time, and tickled to bear the same initials. Hello.

Mexico had a busy week last week. The biggest earthquake since ’85 shook things up for a couple days, Pope Benedict XVI made his controversial visit to León, and then, of course, there was Vive Latino, which was why yours truly was there.

As hundreds of thousands made the pilgrimage to Guanajuato to see El Papa, tens of thousands of us crammed into metro cars and inched along in endless DF traffic towards Ciudad Deportiva for a weekend of worship of a very different variety.

We arrived just after Vetusta Morla had finished their set on the main stage and proceeded to roam around aimlessly and feel generally overwhelmed. I knew Vive was going to be big, but Foro Sol is massive—and without a map or functioning smart phone, I felt more than a tad lost.

by Marlon Bishop

First up (for us): Chilean darlings Dënver, who helped appease the initial confusion/vastness of the fest with their easy breezy pop. The crowd sang along to “Olas Gigantes” as singer Mariana pouted and posed and pranced around the stage. Nothing mind-blowing, but that was fine; it was nice. We bought some beer and danced a bit before wandering off to catch the end of Antoine Reverb’s set. Which we missed.

There’s a rhythm to Vive, and any mega-festival I suppose, that is key to a good time and has absolutely nothing to do with music and everything to do with planning. Four stages is a lot to juggle and with infinite distractions in between—merch! mohawks! mezcal! movies (courtesy of Ambulante)! piercings! pashminas! parkour! a mobile library (why not?)! some dude jumping into a trash can! wait, another dude jumping into a trash can…?—trips between stages easily took 15-20 minutes. (Almost) all the sets started right on time, if not a few minutes early, so I was forced to go against my nature and attempt to be punctual. It wasn’t until day two that I really got the hang of it.

We made our way to the Carpa Intolerante (the smallest stage at Vive, curated by Discos Intolerancia) to see Ruben from Café Tacvba’s side project HopPo! Hair long and messy, skirt long and hippy, Ruben was as beautiful and charming as ever, but forced to hobble around with a cane as he’d injured himself the night before (while performing at some concert protesting violence against animals, bless his heart). Made up of Los Fancy Free drummer Carlos Icaza, several Chilean musicians, someone on a sitar, and at this performance, the bassist from Santa Sabina, HopPo! performed experimental Eastern-tinged covers of Latin American folk classics by the likes of Victor Jara and Violeta Parra, along with some originals off their upcoming album.

Next was Vicente Gayo, who put on a super-energetic show to an overflowing and enthusiastic crowd, giving me my first real taste of rrrrock at this festival, replete with obligatory crowd surfing and chants of “oé oé oé oé, Gayo, Gayo” under the glow of a huge rooster.

Then I made my first bad decision of Vive Latino. According to the schedule, there was a big break at the Carpa Intolerante. ("Why would there be an hour and a half break?" I should have asked myself. Oh, hindsight.) I suggested we grab some food and check out Los Ezquisitos because I liked their name. Halfway through my first moist taco de canasta, I knew we’d made a mistake, one of the generic hard rock variety. Whoops. By that point Rubén Albarrán had somehow made it over to the Escenario Indio Blanco to join the band for a painful (heavy metal-ish) rendition of “Esa Noche.” But what I’m mad about is that back at Intolerante, none other than Torreblanca was performing a surprise show. The one artist not on the Vive lineup who I really hoped to catch while in Mexico City.

Luckily, we have YouTube for situations like this. Check out that fox around his neck!

The big draw of Friday night was Enrique Bunbury, an artist whose appeal I cannot wrap my head around for the life of me. But there were thousands of leather cowboy hats and Heroes del Silencio t-shirts crowding the Escenario Indio Verde from early on in the day, reminding me that I was very much in the minority. About ten minutes before 9, we squeezed and “permiso”-ed our way into the crowd to catch our first main stage show of the festival: Zoé.

Every time I see Zoé live I’m reminded of what quintessential rock stars they are, and I mean that as a compliment of the highest order. Say what you will about their Unplugged album (I say good things!), their talent is undeniable and man, do they put on a good show. They had so many musicians on stage (around 10, I believe)—including Chetes in what looked like a bedazzled dashiki, Pipe of L.A. band The May Fire, and, of course, Denise, aka Lo Blondo, of Hello Seahorse!

León and orchestra made their way through the Unplugged repertoire, which worked surprisingly well in the stadium setting, thanks to really incredible sound. That is, when it wasn’t drowned out by the chorus of the audience singing along to every word. The din surged to a massive roar/squeal when León invited Señor Bunbury out to reprise their duet of “Nada,” which made for the perfect transition into the plugged-in, full-on rock half of Zoé’s set: “Polar,” “Memo Rex,” “Últimos Días,” “Vía Láctea,” “Miel,” “Labios Rotos,” and the descent of León into the crowd as he walked amongst and sang to the fans, flanked by security guards.

With the final applause and a splash of some unidentifiable warm liquid from above (that was totally beer, right?), we called it a night, eager to get some rest before the most anticipated day of #VL12.

Festival Imperial 2012

by Pierre Lestruhaut

Being one of the two CF writers who lives somewhere south of Mexico, and the only one living in Central America, I can imagine that most of our readers who know what it’s like to yearly attend a festival of the SXSW or Nrmal caliber, will have a huge WTF reaction when they read the line-up of this festival held last week in Costa Rica, and that I’ve just decided to write about. What most mipsters probably don’t realize, though, is just how much being an indie kid in this part of the world, where buzzbands become buzzworthy with a usual delay of about five to ten years (just try to figure out why they’re bringing The Flaming Lips and TV on the Radio all of the sudden) means you’re just not gonna see the bands you like playing live. Point being: it’s hard out here for a hipster.

Most (loud) discussions that took place after this year’s line-up was announced weren’t precisely centered around the matter at hand (i.e. the artists that were playing the festival and their musical and cultural impact), but rather the audience that the organizers were trying to bring for the weekend to pay for over-priced food and beer. Going back precisely to what appeared to be like the festival’s mission statement, which was something about “reaching out to a new audience.” I’m actually still trying to figure out what audience that really is. I’ll try to explain that in the following Venn diagram.

Though maybe, and just maybe, we’d like to think that this might be a statement of negation, perhaps the refusal of perpetuating the idea that a festival has to consist strictly of crowd-pleasing acts and white...dudes...holding...guitars. Which is kind of another way to say let’s forget about Enrique Iglesias and Zoé, and instead bring Ximena Sariñana and Bomba Estéreo. Which for me, you know, pretty much does it. We weren’t expecting Dënver and Rita Indiana, anyway.

So onto the actual performances, Ximena Sariñana’s was the first one I saw, beginning early on Saturday afternoon, and I’ll admit that even though I pretty much slept on everything she had done before 2011, I would still have the spirit to shallowly classify her music as something only the Blanca Méndezes of the world would truly and genuinely like. But after getting into her earlier work in Spanish, I started abandoning that original idea I had and began to appreciate some of her older songs, precisely those from Mediocre (“Mediocre,” “Normal,” “La tina”), which were by far the absolute highlights of her performance. Most of the songs from the self-titled album are way too flat and shallow to light up a festival crowd, and I think even Blanca was sort of lukewarm about that album anyway.

Sariñana's guitarist has a "drone" moment

Bomba Estéreo were scheduled to play the next day and were the only early afternoon band that actually used the irresistible heat in their favor, and (annoying wordplay coming) set the whole shit on fire for the entire hour of their set, even more so when they closed out with “Fuego.” While something like The Flaming Lips on Saturday night (which I’ll get to later on) used all kinds of props and projections to intensify, or even produce, the feeling of energy and liberation in their performance, Bomba Estéreo were actually their own ineffable flow of energy, emanating from singer/rapper Li Saumet bouncing around the stage and a rhythm section that went on a ruthless pursuit for beatific repetition. This was not just electrocumbia, it was the onward congregation of rhythm, noise, flow and rhyming, pumped at a volume that caused your every muscle to forget the heat and not stand right there. Plus the kids look irresistibly cool on stage and Li Saumet should totally be a fashion icon.

A couple of hours later, La Mala Rodríguez also hit the festival and, even though I consider her to have pretty much developed (or at least brought to the big stage) an absolutely unique flow style that has endured the test of time and several records with different producers and types of beats, her more rock-oriented sound supported by a guitar player and an actual drummer had her sounding decidedly not like her. Seeing La Mala getting closer to the stretches of rock music, and stepping even further away from the boom bap of Lujo Ibérico, is the kind of move I wouldn’t exactly want to see her doing.

In regards to the other hip hop act in the fest, I’m not sure if the discussion of whether Cypress Hill should be covered by us has ever taken place (what’s there to cover about them in this day and age anyway) but I assume that a band that released an album called Los grandes éxitos en español, interacts with their audience in Spanish, and has a Cuban member that coincidentally asks his DJ to “bring that Latino shit,” should be enough to be considered “ours.” I was never really much of a fan of either of their two MCs, but I reckon that Julio G was doing a fine job of channelling DJ Muggs, who was really capable of laying a pretty decent beat any day (DJ Muggs vs. GZA, anyone?). Besides, fifty year old dudes rapping while smoking pot on an outdoor stage really look like absolute pirates next to the kind of show dudes like Curren$y or Main Attrakionz could pull out at a club.

Blurry Bomba Estéreo is blurry

I wasn’t particularly lit up on the selection of local acts for this festival (even if there was a pretty decent crop of emerging independent rock musicians), mainly because our two favorite ones, Las Robertas and Monte, were not part of it. Although their bass player and drummer were featured with their other bands, The Great Wilderness and Zopilot, I failed to see them on account of checking out something more interesting happening on the main stages. There's also the fact that I can catch these bands every month in San José for the price of one beer inside the festival. I wandered around through most of the local acts that I had the opportunity to see, and Sonámbulo were pretty much the only ones that did it for me. Like always, they managed to pull out a very enthralling trance-inducing show, and eventually got a deserving Tunde Adebimpe seal of approval, plus an Austin City Limits call-up on the same day. Still, I do kinda feel like I need to consume some sort of drug to really appreciate this band’s music after 15 minutes of it.

A quick note on a few outsider acts, which were the ones that people were naturally most eager to see in this fest: I really fucking hate Gogol Bordello; TV on the Radio put out a great set and was the best noisy guitar show of the weekend not featuring Steven Drozd; and Björk can be summed up by what the drunk-yet-very-wise dude in the audience yelled at the end of the show: “that crazy bitch came to kick some serious ass.” The only full set I got to see at the predominantly electronic stage was DJ Shadow’s, who, after the crowd went on a small display of Costa Rican idiosyncrasy as they got impatient at how long installing the whole gear was taking, walks in looking like your high school soccer coach, has a small diplomatic word about how he “likes all types of music,” and then proceeds to immerse the crowd in the biggest collective head nod I’d ever seen (at some point even the guys from security were into it). And throughout the whole duration of the set, dude’s just too fuckin' busy to notice anything going on around him because of how he’s single-handedly kicking the shit out of his turntables, samplers, pad, and laptop, surfing through 30 years of electronic music in one single table.

And finally getting onto The Flaming Lips, as a longtime enthusiast and follower of indie music and culture in general, there’s always a part of you that starts rejecting the more conspicuous elements of it. Which is why most indie kids have seen the term indie, fall under negative connotations about glasses and hats and movies with songs by The Shins. The thing with the Flaming Lips’ show is that it’s precisely conceived around forcibly stilted weird and quirky elements of indie (or “weird music” as the term is starting to be coined around the internet), like their coming out of a giant vagina, the inedibly obsolete bubble walk, or the ridiculous costumes of the on-stage dancers. But in spite of the show’s own blatant weirdness, when I heard the first few notes of “Worm Mountain,” and even more so when they played “What Is the Light?” (my favorite song from The Soft Bulletin), I simply couldn’t help myself from crying. I, owner of an original copy of Zaireeka, devoted fan of The Soft Bulletin, hater of “The Yeah Yeah Yeah Song,” and only dude in my section of the crowd who did the Yoshimi karate chop, wept like a goddamn baby. Because after years of living in this isolated and indie-forgotten part of the continent, after having to travel hundreds of miles away from home just to get a small taste of weird music somewhere in the world, it was at that point that I realized weird music had finally come to our home.

SXSW Entry #7: White Ninja, Bigott, 3Ball MTY

SWAGtentalo

I lost my voice Thursday night, which also inhibited my ability to swallow. The next morning, my ears were still ringing and my legs were tired as all hell. But, dammit, this was the penultimate day of SXSW, and there was NO CHANCE anyone was fucking stopping me from going all out. So I scarfed down three slices of Hoboken pizza (yeah, dammit, we’re talking about food again!), and walked my ass clear across downtown to catch me some White Ninja.I think what most surprised me about White Ninja’s set was how true-to-record these guys, sounded, which is impressive, considering how hazy their recordings can be at times. But, just like the recordings, the show would have probably sounded better accompanied by…um, “mood enhancers.” So, not a bad show or anything. I mean, any time you get to hear “PCU” while drinking watered down Glenlivet, that’s one for the win column, really.

After encountering the most dick-headed SXSW volunteer (“the line’s over here, brah”), I entered the Sounds from Spain showcase, which featured the largest assortment of La Liga jerseys this side of Madrid (go Real!). The whole time I was thinking, “if Gio and I are the visual equivalent of the mipster, who the fuck are these guys?! Spipsters? And is that said with or without the lisp?”

Anyway, I was there to see Bigott. He was really good! He was in high spirits throughout, barely pausing in between songs. And, for once, I saw a SXSW crowd engage in ACTUAL dancing (to a song called “Cannibal Dinner,” no less!). There was also some ace guitar playing to “Dead Mum Walking” and some colorful band interplay to “Sparkle Motion,” not to mention that this guy is just as funny and charismatic live as on record. If anything, I’m bummed that this was his only SXSW showcase—I’d definitely see him again if I had the chance.

(I also caught Nite Jewel last night. All I’ll say is, it took her 30 minutes to soundcheck and the synths were STILL way too compressed in the mix. Oh, and also La Vida Boheme, which is apparently Spanish for “tries too hard.”)

Last up for the night was the unstoppable short bus that is 3Ball MTY. The energy inside the venue was palpable. No one was wearing pointy boots (BOO!) though Gio made an excellent point that 3Ball’s staff was “very chuntaro looking,” which is a half-win. As for the show itself? TOTAL. FUCKING. FRENZY. 3Ball’s 45-minute MegaMix was a bevy of crowdsurfing, obstructive camera phones, and, oh yeah, I had to break up a fight. Regardless, the set was more than impressive, and its abrupt end due to a 2 a.m. curfew nearly set off a small skirmish from overhyped fans.

Leaving the show, I realized I still hadn’t gotten a sense whether 3Ball MTY is an actual project, or merely short-term (particularly for Erick Rincon, who dictated virtually everything onstage as if going through the motions). As “Inténtalo” remains #1 on the Billboard charts, the opportunity was theirs to take this festival by the balls. Yet here we were, with only one show aimed at the long ago-converted. Who knows, maybe there was a good reason. But we’ve known for months that “Inténtalo” is a game changer of a song—now should have been the time for 3Ball MTY to become a game changer of a band.

Festival Nrmal 2012, Part Three

by Conejito Colvin

Technically, the party started on Friday at San Pedro Garza's characteristic Gomez Bar, long known as being the unofficial headquarters for the Nrmal crew, and the de facto spot for countless after parties. After creating a prequel of our own with D.D.A (that's ADD for all you English speaking folk) at the Novotel, the peeps and I followed the caravan to the pre(pre?)-party. Sometime after the second red light we lost sight of the van we were following. With limited credit in our pre-paid Mexican cellphones, we attempted to call a friend for directions. Forty-minutes and several flimsy indications later, we finally came upon the elusive house. The party was already bumping by the time we arrived, as Lao (of 401.mx fame) presided over the dance floor with a selection of the bassiest of the bass—reppin’ for Finesse records, no less. Supermad, the boy-girl ACIEEED FUNK duo, followed suit with a performance that defied all expectations and subsequent categorizations. Pictureplane busted out a retromanic fest of '90s rave hits, which brought back more than one awkward flashback of neon clothing and glow sticks. *shudders* Milkman followed up with a number of bewildering stage antics, but was swiftly ushered down to make way for the true star of the night, none other than Erick Rincón of do-I-even-need-to-remind-you fame. Three cocktails and one limbo pole later, and we were battered beyond repair.

But on to the actual festival...

We arrived somewhat late to the proceedings, sadly, missing out on performances by DDA and Araabmuzik. The latter’s unfortunate schedule must’ve been a blundering oversight, since I doubt anyone can stomach that kind of bass just after noon. Alas, we carried on to the Panamerika stage where the spaced-out garage noise of San Pedro El Cortez effectively gave way to the festival proper. Go Tijuana! But seriously, regional biases aside, San Pedro’s out-of-left-field stage antics shocked most of us at the tiny tent, whose audience included the likes of Davila 666 and the aforementioned DDA. It took a while before we found anything we liked on the program, so we made our way to the Novotel once again to seek out one Raka Rich (interview coming soon!). After a lengthy exchange, we made our way back to Diego Rivera park, where the distant chants of Prince Rama could be heard in the distance. Shortly thereafter, the motley throng of mipsters (yeah, I used that word again) gradually made its way to the main stage as an ostensibly awkward Canadian by the name of Grimes was setting up for her performance. She alerted us that due to half her equipment being lost at the airport, her set would be a—and I’m quoting here—“shitfest.” Damn those Mexican airlines! But yeah, we were warned, and the ensuing sounds were underwhelming, to say the least. The crowd cheered her on regardless.

We then made our way to the tiniest stage, yet again, where the schedule had been considerably set back. I guess 25-minute sets sound better on paper. After lurking around while waiting for Sonido San Francisco to emerge, our appetites got the better of us and we made our way back to the food courts. I suffered a minor stroke after ingesting some regio spicy wings (seriously, it was like being stabbed in the tounge!) and took a moment to recover. We rushed back to the Panamerika stage where Sonido had already concluded their set. Thank God for the audience’s insistence on an encore, which spurred the neo-cumbia outfit to finish off their performance with their floor-breaking number, “Sonidero Total!!!”

Photos by Luisa Luisa Martinez

So, the next lines will come as no surprise to any Club Fonograma reader. Alex Anwandter kicked the shit out of every other performance at the festival. (Well, okay, a certain TJ duo gave the Chilean a run for his money, but we’ll get to it soon enough). Where to begin? Was it the awe-inspiring fervor of Anwandter performing “Tatuaje” live? The uncanny storm that unfurled just moments after “Tormenta”? Perhaps it was the cadré of admirers that showered him with embraces as he descended upon the crowd? Or maybe the...okay, you get it. Too many moments. (I didn’t even mention his glimmering silver shirt.)

And, yeah, the mandatory mention of that other Chilean artist, whose name I dare not speak, especially after Andrew Casillas’ zealous rebuttal of Enrique Coyotzi’s lukewarm assessment. What can I say? It was just SOO big, so important. Almost in diametrical opposition to the immediacy of Anwandter’s performance—not to mention intimacy—Javiera Mena’s performance just felt too removed from the audience. And just what was that dude from She’s a Tease doing up there, exactly? (I didn’t manage to hear a peep coming out of him.)

After those moments, everything went by in a(n energy) flash. Ñaka Ñaka tripped us out, Maloso made us shout, and P18 Live Machine made our posterior muscles ache. Booty shaking aside, the crowd singing along to “Hijos de José” was among the highlights of the festival’s rave-ier moments. Meanwhile, in a moment of not-so-quiet introspection, Mock The Zuma and his newly found MC, Josué Josué, gave much to talk about, as the budding rapper floored us with his rendition of the new Mexican vernacular.


Now, on to the other highlight of the night. Tony Gallardo II can indisputably be called the best showman of the festival. In his typically charismatic fashion, he made the crowd laugh and dance, all the while opening up the stage to groupies and Chilean pop stars alike. Oh, and the dude from Sonido San Francisco was also there. With DJ Nombre Apellido (of Los Macuanos pseudo-fame) as his interim sidekick, Tony had the entire audience eating out of his swa(n)g-laden hand. Just as his set came to a draw, the audience clamored for more party, and he made sure not to disappoint his ardent cult following, by treating us to a hit from that other project of his. “Rey de Reyes,” though strictly “playback” as he called it, was but the cherry on top of an epochal performance.

Had the day's events not been replete with talent, I may have taken in much more. Alas, quantity and quality were not mutually exclusive at the festival. Such was the intensity, that I couldn’t even make my way to the after-party where I was set to perform. But be warned Monterrey, I will be back.

SXSW Entry #6: Andrea Balency, LA ENTREVISTA

Earlier this week, I had the opportunity to speak with the fast-rising Andrea Balency. And all it took was me buying her one beer, along with my awesome charm, of course.

Andrew Casillas: So…how does it feel to be “hot shit” right now?*

Andrea Balency: It’s kind of surprising because when I started writing music I never thought I would be where I’m at only two-three years later. Before that, I played classical music at home with my piano and I wanted to be a classical musician. But then I started writing music, saw how fun it was, and felt the need to continue doing it. My first songs didn’t sound very commercial, and I thought, “Oh, I’ll never been famous or popular.” But suddenly everything started happening, and people started coming out to concerts, and suddenly I had 300 people coming out to see me. And I’m thinking, “Who am I?” I’m just a regular person, so it’s been very surprising, but exciting, because I feel like I can make a living doing this forever.

AC: Speaking of playing with Natalia Lafourcade, Javiera Mena, and Ximena Sariñana (at the awesome Torreblanca + Amigas show earlier that day), each of them had a very different career path. Natalia started out very quirky and has progressed further into idiosyncrasy. Javiera began with a defined sound and has continued developing it to where she is THE BEST at what she does. Ximena started out as a huge pop star, and is leveraging that early success in a very ambitious attempt at English language superstardom. Of these three, which would you find most appealing as a career path?

AB: I feel like my music has to follow its own path and, thus, I don’t think about it so much. I don’t want to force things and take my music somewhere it probably shouldn’t be. Right now what I think is that I have a pretty singular sound which will continue to change. I’ve gotten into a lot of electronic music lately…

AC: Even Skrillex? (jokingly)

AB: Yes! (haha) I just love the whole universe of electronica, and I’m trying to incorporate some of these elements into my sound. I don’t know where I’m going to evolve; I’ll just let it go where it needs to be.


AC: Do you have any idea where you’re going to be in a few years? Do you think you could be like Skrillex tomorrow?

AB: I’d love to think I could. Part of what I love about music is that it’s spontaneous.

AC: Well answer this: do you want to be a pop star?

AB: Hahaha, well…

AC: I’m serious: I don’t mean pop star in the “selling out” sense. Do you want to be a star? An easy comparison would be, say, Julieta Venegas. Someone who can command his or her own career with a mass following?

AB: Credibility is important to me, so as long as I have that, I wouldn’t mind being a “star.” I wouldn’t mind not being a star so long as I’m credible. It’s the most important thing to me.

*I clarified that I meant to say “one of the biggest buzzes at SXSW,” but hot shit still sounds cooler.