Pedro LaDroga - "Pásatelo ke no me sale Na (Ela Quer SaSá)"

The Sevillano MC/Producer who never ceases to multiply the sonic and visual exertions – and who happens to be at the top of my list as one of the best acts of 2015 – recently dropped a couple of fresh tracks while we wait for the sequel to Hologram EP to see the light. Amongst the releases, "Pásatelo ke no me sale Na (Ela Quer SaSá)" stands out as one of LaDroga most exciting diversions. The half-freestyled half-written cut about the opposite sex and the ubiquitous green leaf is propelled by striking trap funkeiro and baile bass rhythms produced by Jaime Garcia, a beat builder going under the moniker Kryone and the founder of Morelia-based label, Pira.md Records. The video, a cooperative effort of artist Bore and LaDroga, consists of a collage of beach imagery, ADSL Settings, aliens, Street Fighter II’s Blanka, Soundcloud’s fonts and tags, and some lean. The complexly layered and edited soundscape –reminiscent of Sango’s Da Rocinha projects – leads the way for LaDroga to utter his Baudelairian spleen as he swiftly goes over his smoking habits and female encounters – ones that arouse doubt, hope, and finally nothing. The MC’s angst is once again a miraculous source of intense and rigorous creation.

Pedro LaDroga - "≈KE KIERE ASE /KE KIE/≈ "

The prolific Sevilla MC/producer with a penchant for breathing new life to previous works, seeking to make them as eternal as possible, delivers a sonic and visual triptych in “≈KE KIERE ASE /KE KIE/≈.” LaDroga initially invites us to climb aboard his Window 95 interstellar vessel and venture outdoors into the confines of the digital realm. The strayed remix of "Acostumbrao a sufrir" accompanying the takeoff suggests contemplation and escapism. Then, “Ke Kiere Ase”, structured around the legendary Zappa’s slow seven-note motif, creates the space for poetic and timeless gaze through which we discover Cerro del Hierro and San Nicolas del Puerto, Sevilla. Footage of water flowing like LaDroga’s very thoughts are paired to the phrase “Ke kiere ase” and recited repeatedly, revealing that he would do everything and anything with and for that coveted somebody. The journey ends with him “fumando bajo cataratas”, using a cut from the très à propos “Catarata” (produced by $kyhook) off of SKYDRVG 1.0. Playing on the  trialectic of being, doing and becoming, LaDroga turns a pot-fueled venture into something mystical, almost sacred. 

VIDEO: Pedro LaDroga - "≅ ☀ L U Z ☀ ≅"

Devoid of temporal linearity, “≅ ☀ L U Z ☀ ≅” explores the paths of weird melancholy under woozy new wave and wistfully occult nu-metal airs. From his fiefdom in Sevilla, the MC/producer for whom music seems to be the extension of his wayward personality outlines an imaginary territory where time is cyclical. Pedro LaDroga embodies a warrior of light caught at the center of the most evil of pentagrams; awakening consciousness to the perpetual motion between obscurity and clarity. The particularly transfixing video, all in gif. art (courtesy of visual artist John Karel), displays looped pop culture landmarks in such a way so to provoke momentary melancholy. In his nasal and discordant voice, the founder of netlabel/ niche collective Ladroga Lab repeats “En el momento”, passing on the secret: eternity is not a reality to come; eternity is lived in the density and intensity of the moment.

Whitest Taino Alive - ¿Dónde Jugarán Los Cueros?

¿Dónde Jugarán Los Cueros?, 
Whitest Taino Alive
Stereotipico, Dominican Republic
Rating: 88
by Carlos Reyes

Trying to locate the zeitgeist becomes a priority to the tastemaker. While it’s true the Internet brought fragmentation to the way we listen to music –and that the zeitgeist can be found scattered at a dozen places at once –there’s still a place for those of us romantic enough to theorize over the notion of the it occupying a physical space. Not to call ourselves oracles of any kind, but we were very attentive to the blossoming of the new wave of Chilean pop before anyone dared to call Chile a pop paradise. In the last year we’ve responded ecstatically to emerging talents from the Caribbean, particularly from Puerto Rico and the Dominican Republic. Perhaps we’re cheating when bundling both nations together (a la FIFA 2002 worldcup), but both scenes are sharing a discourse of carnal and digital burgeonings that is beautiful to witness.

Dominican newcomers Whitest Taino Alive join Füete Billēte and Buscabulla as one of the most memorable emerging acts of the last few years. Led by the equally prolific and abrasive producer Cohoba, and branding on the idea of providing the audience with something they call Choperia Fina (rocking beats while wearing leather), WTA afford to sound truly colossal on their debut album. Featuring a grand-sound design and an ambitious composition, ¿Dónde Jugarán Los Cueros? is an album that sounds nothing short from pristine (and puts the latest Calle 13 to an even bigger shame). We wouldn’t expect anything less from Cohoba, whose stellar EP Chroamatism earlier this year has profiled him as the Dominican Republic’s most distinguished music maker since Rita Indiana. For a producer with a fondness for rapture and visceral banging, he is faced with the task of negotiating his beats for the vocal dissertation of WTA (conformed by Cohoba, Blon Jovi & Dominicanye West). The results are valiantly tackled and arresting for the most part.

WTA pop references a wide number of topics that go from Sosa, Heisenberg and Lara, to celebrating Selena’s butt as a cultural monument. While the abrasiveness of the lyrics makes it seem like they’re name-dropping indiscriminately, they’re actually using pop culture as a tool/hook to welcome non-Dominicanos to their idiosyncrasy. Take for example the album’s concept. The title ¿Dónde Jugarán Los Cueros? winks at Molotov’s ¿Dónde Jugarán las Niñas?, which itself mocks on Mana’s ¿Dónde Jugarán los Niños? This chain of smartass referencing would’ve been tiresome by the third time, if it wasn’t for the album cover (showing a thong sliding hasta abajo) validating WTA’s intentions of providing a lubricant to the Dominican way upfront. Which begs the question on how WTA, or Füete Billēte for the matter, would sound if reggaeton had not become the phenomenon that it still is. We might be talking about hip hop music here, but the reggaeton influence can be felt from a far distance. It’s in this way that WTA’s debut feels personally accomplished, but is also a cooperative from the pool of influences that brought it into being.

From the first immersive brashes of intro “Chillin en Jaragua” to the syncopated horns of the gigantic “En Canoa Pal Seibo,” the first half of ¿Dónde Jugarán Los Cueros? privileges the spellbinding over the immediate. Promotional cuts “Burlao” and “Mi Bandera” are two ideal tracks to taste the WTA experience. The former surfs slowly above synth crescendos, while the latter confronts the soundscape in a massive and unapologetic way. The second half of the album lacks fury on the chorus department, but somehow manages to sound even more melodic than the first half. The outstanding “La Resaca” is particularly exciting in how it tailors and manipulates beats to simulate the feeling of feeling hangover –with a narcotized voice of reason serving as a chorus. Lyrically, the album delivers plenty of hilarious one-liners, but frequently struggles to accomplish roundness in the storytelling. The narrative is still wonderfully uncompromised in both, their outburst and restrained lines of attack. And that’s perhaps WTA’s biggest attraction, its ability to position itself as understated text and then become a major threat to the dancefloor by the very next track.

Los Rakas - El Negrito Dun Dun & Ricardo

El Negrito Dun Dun & Ricardo, Los Rakas
Universal Music Latino, Panama
Rating: 63
by Pierre Lestruhaut

"It's not what the pussy can do for you, but what you can do for the pussy" claims Mickey Rourke’s character in his own apotheosizing speech in Jonas Akerlund's forgettable film Spun. The speech, it seems, is essentially what the new Los Rakas album is about. Hardly 10 minutes after hitting play and you already start to see what you're in for: a massive, head-over-heels, unhindered cult to the almighty pussy (and thus, we assume, pussy-fucking). But rest assured, Dun Dun and Ricardo do keep it all relatively old-fashioned and non-explicit, steering clear of a potential parental advisory label in their own quixotic quest for pussy.

Immediately after the borderline braggadocio intro kicks off the album, "Demencia y Locura" drops a killer subbass, and then goes on a tale that is basically about the power of musicianship as a pussy magnet. "Así me gusta" is reminiscent of "Bandz a Make Her Dance" but without the exploitative ambience of strip clubs, rather focusing on female dancing as a sensual art form. "X-Tacy" doesn't adhere to the Rick Ross school of using molly as a backdoor aphrodisiac, but rather as a parallel between the effects of the drug and the influence a woman can have. It's like these guys actually have moral standards: They are the victims of the pussy here. Get just one taste of it and you are subject to the whims and wishes of the omnipotent vagina.

"Africana" feels like their new not-so-successful attempt at hitting that perfect spot between dancehall-influenced romantic songwriting and heartbroken rapping that Big Boy had found some 20 years ago, and that Los Rakas themselves brought up to date with their hit "Abrázame" back in 2010. It's followed by a short-lived attempt at bringing back the previously quite common subject of their own Latin origins. A cappella number “Mi País” does a quick shout out to the homies, and “Sueño Americano” goes into sociopolitical territory, touching on the themes of immigrant exclusion in the USA, although it doesn't have the vivid imagery of Kap G's "Fuck La Policía," nor the all-encompassing ambition of The-Dream's recent “BLACK.”

The album's last run is essentially a deviation towards crowdpleasing chart-topping dance-pop. “Periódico de ayer” and “X-Tacy” seem to draw heavily from Eurodance, and places the duo much closer to current Latin pop stars that have been riding the Eurodance wave, and pretty far away from the independent hip-hop they proudly claimed to be part of a few years ago. “Malibú Girl” sounds like it was dusted from the lost archives of late 90's early 00's french house, while “Siente la Música” seems to have been written by a soulless machine that orders club goers to dance till dawn.

One would like to think that the shift from their own trademarked Panabay twist towards average everyday contemporary club songs is in no way correlated to the fact they've gone from being independent artists to being signed with Universal Music, but there's not much evidence to refute that. Their Chancletas y Camisetas Bordadas EP succeeded not only because it was sonically inventive and accomplished (the folkloric tones of “Camisetas Borda,” the cosmopolitan urbanism in “Ta Lista”), but also for how it felt extremely personal in its depiction of family, gials, and identity. If anything, El Negrito Dun Dun & Ricardo feels like a talented hip-hop duo that's sacrificing personal vision for commercial success. And maybe, just as well, for pussy.

Video: Arufe - "Dinosaurio"

Why Bflecha’s “Mundo Bizarro” isn’t part of a product's transnational marketing campaign by now is surprising. The catchiest and most straightforwardly pop number in Beta served from Arufe’s thriving assistance, offering the track a mysticism and luxurious lush that made the pop structure that more effective. Arufe has our attention now. His latest single “Dinosaurio” is quite a revelation, and far from a pop structure subscription. The Spaniard rapper approaches Paleontology in a quirky, exaggerated tone driven by pop culture references. The music video in charge of Priscina Infinita first plays with negative space, quickly transforming the minimalistic frame into a meta-visual platform. The clip starts with a Jurassic Park blanket taking shape into the dreams of the rapper. The narrative never gives up, flourishing animation with little restraint. Something about him rapping about Madonna and condensed milk in the same minute shows Arufe stretching his lyrical discourse a bit too much, but he’s doing it with plenty of wit and charm.

Füete Billēte - Música de Capsulón

Música de Capsulón, Füete Billēte
Independiente, Puerto Rico
Rating: 94
by Enrique Coyotzi

It was back in January, when we first stumbled upon the thrilling “La Trilla,” that Füete Billēte, Puerto Rico's hottest rising act, started creating a significant amount of buzz. Ever since that promising introduction, Füete Billēte uploaded periodically to their SoundCloud many more dazzling tracks, whose quality promised a daring, piercing, and remarkable first reference. After some months of waiting, the superb, scandalous, hit-packed mixtape Música de Capsulón is finally here, marking the boldest debut release by any Iberoamerican artist this year.

Füete Billēte, made up by rappers Beibi Johnson and Dávila 666 frontman Pepper Kilo, along with producer Freebass, seem to be sailing under A$AP Rocky’s “PMW” philosophy. Their lyrics, while consistently offensive and misogynistic, honestly share the point of view of a street dog, a pimp, a gangsta—dudes who are real and aren’t afraid to explicitly speak about the shit they’ve gone through, their experiences exactly the way they’ve lived them. They tell it like it is. Despite falling into bad taste territory, as Pepper Kilo declares in “Bien Guillao,” “una vida como ésta hay que contarla.” He also justifies pretty well the group's motifs in this interview, explaining, “Rap shouldn't be an acceptable thing for everyone. Rap is about speaking the truth, what happens in the street, and how people live in the streets.” While some listeners may take Füete Billēte as a joke (some of their lyrics are simply too damn funny or purposefully outrageous), you can tell Pepper Kilo is being dead serious when making this statement.

Hate them or love them, there’s no denying Música de Capsulón is a hell of an accomplishment—a necessary refreshment for 2013’s closure. If you've been following their SoundCloud activity, chances are you probably know by heart the majority of these songs. The real pleasure is to have them, at last, in a perfectly sequenced release, where there’s hardly chance to breathe. And I mean that as a compliment. Like Janelle Monáe’s The Electric Lady, or even El Gran Silencio’s Chúntaros Radio Poder, Füete Billēte include a couple of skits resembling radio listening and a couple of others that bring to mind that disconcerting, yet hella funny voice message at the end of Calle 13's “Uiyi Guaye.” With hardly any pause between tracks, the MCs found a robust manner to accommodate their previous offerings, assembling an entrancing narrative. Whether it's with the assistance of Freebass' luxurious beats or Overlord's under-purple-drank, stoner production, Füete Billēte's vast musical spectrum, which ranges from '90s rap, to crunk, to contemporary hip hop, stands out throughout, revealing new genius in every spin.

Beibi's and Pepper's performances, however, are what steal the whole show. Johnson's reggaeton-esque flow is commanding, while Kilo's sick, often Auto-Tuned verses are intrepid. If the listener could picture their physical state during the entire record, one would admire them with red and dilated eyes. The sheer volume of smashers on Música de Capsulón is impressive. Following the throwback intro “Mira Esa Perrita,” the title track quickly makes itself present. It easily equalizes the same exciting effect we had when we first heard “La Trilla.” The self-aware “La Moda,” hard-hitting “Hasta el Piso,” and Aaliyah-sampling “Una en un Millón” are ultimately designed for perrear/twerking. Outstanding singles “Bien Guillao” and “Al Mando” bring out their most gangster side, while Overlord-produced tracks “Fumaera Namás” and “Vaso Lento” exhibit them DUI all the way. They even show their more romantic style in the fucking sexy “No Me Quito” and get dreamy in the opulent “Peces Cuadraos.” Whichever side they present, they succeed in it.

From the Fugees’ inspired album cover to the notable invested labor in its conception and brilliant nods to its influences, everything about Música de Capsulón feels meticulously mastered and conferred. Even though it's conceived as a mixtape, just like BFlecha and her panoramic βeta, Füete Billēte confected a release that surely feels like an album in the whole extension of the word. Inescapably irresistible, potentially controversial, and already exuding timelessness, Música de Capsulón certainly establishes one of the greatest hip hop careers in years to come.

Tego Calderón - "Colabore"

“Yo se que yo me tardo pero hecho caldo (y la receta siempre me tiene guisando),” sighs Tego Calderón in his thrilling new single, “Colabore.” It’s been almost six years since the rapper released El Abayarde Contraataca, and just when it seemed its follow up would turn into a mythological release, we get an official single off the long-anticipated El Que Sabe Sabe. While Calderón focused on social globalization on last year’s reggaeton-free mixtape, The Original Gallo del País (self-assesed by Tego as his most complete work yet), the single suggests his new album will bring him back to the clubs and FM airwaves. “Colabore” is another hit in Calderón’s strong line of singles. The song starts at a rapid-fire pace, coating itself with an old friend–a clean, almost nostalgic reggaeton beat that’s serviceable for both profit and pedigree. Trying to catch up with his flow is fun all in its self. El Que Sabe Sabe will see the commercial light in May.

Tego Calderón - The Original Gallo del País (O.G. El Mixtape)

The Original Gallo del País, Tego Calderón 
Jiggiri Records, Puerto Rico
Rating: 77
by Carlos Reyes

Heavy metal drummer turned rap star legend Tego Calderón should be headlining every music festival in Latin America. Unfortunately, our “cultural” fests aren’t nearly as progressive or diversified as they're made out to be. But enough with the whining. That is the last thing Tego would want us to do. It’s been five long years since El Abayarde Contra-Ataca hit the shelves, and it seems unlikely El Que Sabe, Sabe will see the commercial light this year. Lucky for us, Calderon is a provider, one who has not forgotten his anxious followers. The Original Gallo del País (O.G. El Mixtape) is a transfixing 10-track mixtape that’s restrained of a linear narrative but is more than just an appetizer of what’s to come.

A euphoric rooster scream opens the mixtape at an alarming pace. Calderón’s introspective rhymes quickly blossom into the frame and, when you least expect it, the maverick pours as much multi-dimensional gestures and actions as Breaking Bad’s Walter White. Whether speaking of himself as a devoted family man or a modern “Robin Hood,” El Abayarde reinstates his class as a narrator and storyteller. On his recent appearance as a guest DJ at NPR’s Alt.Latino, Calderón pitched this set of songs as the most sincere of his career. There’s a structural freedom granted by the (often budget-less) mixtape format. Whereas most abuse that freedom, Tego approaches it with his heart on his sleeve. He won’t settle for anything nonchalant, and it shows. Promotional cut “El Sitio” is a boiling political track about the physical similarity of the “suffering face” across the globe. There’s no room for baroque fixing or traditional slanting, this is Calderón confronting the need for a macro-regimented discourse.

Not every track in O.G. El Mixtape is linked to budgets or foreclosures. Catchy track “Hablan de Mi” features Fonograma favorite Arcangel, who once again proves to be a rhythmic prodigy. The promising collaboration is only flawed by the artists’ avoidable need to make a tiraera piece (by now, neither Calderon nor Arcangel should sound as territorial). Closing track “Muralla,” featuring Puya (Puerto Rico’s heavy metal salseros) is a pantheon. Whatever fusion Omar Rodríguez-López and Calle 13 failed to craft in “Calma Pueblo” is accomplished here. The Original Gallo del País still sounds like a mixtape (a great mixtape). It struggles to find cohesion from track to track and has an overall pitchy production, but yet again, this is Calderón at his rawest–less about the goce and more about the mantra.

Josué Josué - Linus EP

Linus EP, Josué Josué

NWLA, México

Rating: 75

by Enrique Coyotzi

While we rarely recommend hip hop acts here at Club Fonograma, you can tell by our Outsiders lists and by some of our reviews that we’re quite keen on the genre. Recently, in his “Linus” track review, my colleague Reuben “Nenuco del Norte” Torres made an interesting point about how Mexican MCs suffer from “thug/poser syndrome.” An excellent recent example is Niña Dioz. Just check out her latest videoclip for “2 Cool 4 School,” which confirms Torres’ analysis. That entire bad ass/ghetto attitude simply doesn’t seem…genuine. Newcomer Josué Josué is a whole different story. Possessor of a natural, sincere flow, this MC’s verses feel anything but forced. Josué Josué, with his excellent debut EP, Linus, proves that not all Mexican rappers are just bling bling conformists of basic, worn-out beats and narcissistic writing.

His mind-blowing verses in Matilda Manzana’s “Hola Holograma” and live performances with Mock the Zuma introduced us to the mexiquense’s magnetic talent, but a proper release on his own is what we had been anticipating. Selecting exciting beat makers (Reclap, Siete Catorce, Trax) to join up with him, Josué Josué displays his tasteful loquacity in three monstrous original productions, along with two interesting, yet not essential, remixes of two of these cuts. Featuring Mexicali’s Siete Catorce, the title track is frenzied, almost lunatic, and has the eloquent lyricist displaying in this single banger what he’s all about. Cleverness and effortlessness are the strongest characteristics of Josué Josué’s delivery. Dictating lines referencing literary subgenres (“Quimeras y epopeyas en mi cabeza/Idilios con pereza ocurren con cerveza”), later bringing on a Snoopy character's relationship with his blanket (“Nunca me abandonas como Linus a su manta”) as a sign of dependency, Josué Josué elegantly establishes a balance between classic art/literature and pop culture in his lyrics.

Assisted by Trax, the romantic “Teclado Empapado” is built over a base that samples Monna Bell’s “Un telegrama," absolute winner of 1959's Festival de la Canción de Benidorm. “Tu lunar/Punto cardinal de mi pasión/Zona de fatal atracción,” the rapper deliciously describes his lover’s anatomy, softly sliding his words through funky bass and vibrant ambience. “Rottweillers” is the EP’s most brutal take. Jealousy and uncertainty take over our rhetorician, who desperately spits out his insecurities while Reclap’s top-notch, urgent beats orchestrate this reflection versus impulses battle. Its production brings to mind, in part, the work accomplished in A$AP’s Rocky prominent LIVELOVEA$AP. A violently encouraging, open-wounded, in-your-face exploration of an artist’s anxieties, “Rottweillers” is brain-induced carnage made poetry.

Two remixes (“Linus (Kryone Remix)” and “Rottweillers (Technic Trouble Remix)”) are included in this EP, yet they could’ve been omitted since they interrupt the cohesion, and frankly, it’s pretty distracting to listen to the amazing original song followed by an underwhelming mix. If only the troubled “Kriadex” had been part of this EP in its final form, it would have been a more solid release. However, despite not including this track or the addition of those forgettable remixes, Linus is a compelling achievement. He might not be the best MC out there, but Josué Josué’s career, characterized by an authentic voice, ingenious wordplay, and invigorating devotion to his honest art, is one that certainly is promising to grow into something bigger.

♫♫♫ "Teclado Empapado" | Download EP

MP3: Josué Josué feat. Siete Catorce - "Linus"

 

Despite Mexico’s patchy legacy when it comes to hip hop...who am I kidding? Mexico has no hip hop legacy! The problem has always been the all too predictable dichotomy in the general approach to the genre. (We’ll refer to it as the thug/poser syndrome, for lack of suitable terminology). So it’s not only unorthodox, but even unprecedented when an authentic voice like Josué Josué makes its foray into the scene. The 21-year-old Mexiquense has only a few tracks under his belt, but he’s already found himself moving in all the right (blogo)spheres. No small feat, mind you, the kid’s got an ear when it comes to production talent. Just a few months ago, we saw him touring the most relevant strands of Mexico’s festival circuit alongside Juarez’s Mock the Zuma. And now, by act of fate or Soundcloud’s algorithms, he’s made his way to Mexicali’s Siete Catorce. 

In case you missed it, Siete Catorce’s eponymous debut was a narcotic haze infused with mutant iterations of Mexico’s rhythmic patrimony. In hindsight, his purple-hued yet unequivocally bouncy sounds are the perfect match for Josué Josué’s post-teen angst-ridden verses.  The former’s schizophrenic penchants are all too evident in this number, as one can easily hear traces of his other prominent alter-ego, den5hion (see: wobble bass at 1:04). 

Contrary to the softhearted quality of “Teclado Empapado,” “Linus” has Josué Josué sounding menacing, almost possessed. The tension, no doubt, is alleviated through the insertion of Siete Catorce’s melodic staple midway into the track, lending it a much needed sense of emotional balance.  Though "Linus" is just one of many collaborations and remixes soon to appear in Josué Josué’s Linus EP (via blog-turned-netlabel NWLA), I’ll cross my fingers in the hopes that we’ll soon see an extended musical companionship between these two.

♫♫♫  "Linus"

Ana Tijoux - La Bala

La Bala, Ana Tijoux
Nacional Records, Chile
Rating: 74
by Carlos Reyes

I didn’t care much about the star-making appearance of “1977” on last year’s infamous summer playlist by Thom Yorke, but when that song popped up on an episode of what’s arguably the best TV series of all time (Breaking Bad), I confess I got territorial at the grace of music supervisor Thomas Golubic. Which comes to show that songs do evolve in the course of different narratives. The cosmopolitanism of Ana Tijoux is endearing and truthful, inclusive of varied infrastructures, as well as deep personal venture. Tijoux’s life story knows about exile and landing, about expression and repression - qualities that have found meaning and purpose in her folk-tinged urban artillery that’s, indeed, addressing global unrest in rhyme.

“Soy el ultimo eslabón de la pirámide,” sighs the French-Chilean musician in the album's defining number, "Desclasificado." Ana Tijoux is a lot of things, amongst them: an exceptional rapper, a troubadour (with a killer front-to-back flow), and an immaculate listener. On her third album, La Bala, Tijoux has bolded the melodic response of her delivery, arriving at what’s easily her best record to date. When in the album’s single “Shock” Tijoux sings about the rotting of a golden throne, her mind shields in a collective, marching conviction - the rhymes trail her mind through successive hard punches in the pursuit of corrupt decomposition. This is Tijoux at her best, in full harmony with the times and owning the medium through a commendable dexterity.

Although a career-high, La Bala still suffers from what ultimately prevented its predecessors from becoming great records. It’s missing the beats. She has yet to find the producers that will provide the sonic grassland in which a big portion of her mantra will ultimately flourish. Nothing goes wrong when she’s rapping/singing, but production-wise, her songs are bruised by run-of-the-mill orchestrations that would only work in a pre-industrialized environment. Yes, it’s not too hard to make a conversation between La Bala and an agricultural economy, but the multi-dimensions of her topics and rhymes speak less about a revivalist and more of an artist who is looking forward. But, while that production plot hole is certainly there, Tijoux’s arsenal keeps the flow running with her outspoken, powerful performance. La Bala is Ana Tijoux's shot at breaking bad, and she proves to be more than capable of wearing the ribbon of an outlaw hero.

Los Rakas - Chancletas y Camisetas Bordada

Chancletas y Camisetas Bordada, Los Rakas
Soy Raka LLC, Panama
Rating: 78
by Carlos Reyes

In last year’s video for “Soy Raka,” Panamanian sensation Los Rakas rolled their Afro-Caribbean mojo through the streets of Oakland, shouting loud and proud to the bursting pulse of their self-assuring anthem. In the middle of that video, they stopped by a Mexican vaquero wear shop where, immediately after entering the building, they paused the turfing beat shower to honor the Mexican song playing on the shop’s speakers. This is the kind of genuine gesture that has situated the duo as one of the most beloved acts in the current wave of cosmopolitan urbanism that includes M.I.A., Systema Solar, and The Very Best.

Under the appealing premise of putting a Panabay twist on hip hop, and after acquiring zeitgeist laurels with “Soy Raka” and “Abrazame” last year, Los Rakas have released their very first proper reference in the seven-track EP, Chancletas y Camisetas Bordadas. Self-released and wonderfully self-assured, we’re in front of one of the year’s most eventful and accomplished urban albums. Los Rakas sing about family business, panties, and national and circumstantial identity in what they’ve rightfully classified as “El Flow Californiano.” Like in the best intros of any Tego Calderon album, the duo opens the show with the self-introducing manifesto, “Vengo de Panama.” This piece is an ode to the land that witnessed the birth of two guys with a fascinating skill at punctuating beats and a clear-minded dexterity at accentuating rhythm.

After a quite moving introduction, the pair takes its chances moving their personal agenda to the dancefloor. In “Panty Wanty” and “Borracho” they boost the temperature to the highest degree, sounding effervescent, if only because of their idiosyncratic delivery. In the former track the cousins find themselves filling melody lines with an over toned “tra tra tra” sequence that’s more suggestive than definite, while in the latter they go on to reference Match & Daddy’s “Pasame La Botella” in a fun, yet ultimately ludicrous, fashion. After a two-track walk on a tightrope, they pick things up with the terrific “Ta Lista,” and, from that point on, Chancletas y Camisetas goes on to break its own purpose in surprising numbers that go beyond the common dancehall record. The should-be-all-over-MTV3 single “Ta Lista” is especially intriguing because of its fragmented depths and hinting disco strings. Also terrific is the instrumentally bundled and delightfully folkloric “Camisetas Borda.”

Throughout the album, the topic of family and neighborhood legacy prevails as Los Rakas’ most proficient theme, which makes me realize this is the kind of record that transcends beyond its actual artistic core. For me, it's the moment when your 13-year-old niece asks if mainstream Latin music is as lame as FM radio makes it seem. As semi-responsible adults, we should always aim for allowing our youth to formulate their own conclusions (for one, because of the generational switch), but between you and I, I felt like congratulating her for realizing that so early in life. We might not have the all-comprehensive tools needed for a Latin airplay reform, but it’s artists like Los Rakas that make us hopeful. Not to say Los Rakas have lost their underground status, but not since Calle 13’s beginnings has an urban act received such approval from all corners of the artistic medium. Because when it comes to Los Rakas, they are as alternative, eclectic, and viscerally majestic as they come.

♫♫♫ "Ta Lista" | Facebook

Como Asesinar Felipes Release U.S. Debut + UFO Fanmade Clip

Colores y Cadaveres is the third record by Chilean jazzy-hip hop act Como Asesinar Felipes. It was quietly released in Chile last December, and we’ve had the hardest time trying to get a hold of it. Unlike any of the new releases in that country, the CAF fans hold a deep romanticism towards the band; in a way to maintain the band in the cult-stream, they secretly keep those album links to themselves. So the news that the band has been signed by San Francisco-based label Koolarrow comes as great news for the rest of us, especially now that they're confirmed to perform at Lollapalooza Chile. The label (founded by Faith No More’s Billy Gould) will release the new album soon; in the meantime, they’re distributing their splendid 2009 record Un Disparo Al Centro, out next week (digitally-only). Here is a fanmade clip for the title track, featuring footage from Gerry Anderson’s UFO.

Mala Rodríguez - Dirty Bailarina

Dirty Bailarina, Mala Rodríguez
Universal, Spain
Rating: 63
by Andrew Casillas

A couple of years ago, in seemingly another universe, I wrote about la Mala Rodríguez: “. . . don’t be surprised if a year or so after [Malamarismo] when that next album comes out if you see her on the cover of XXL.”

Obviously, there is a lot of stuff wrong with that prognostication. But it shows the innate, top-notch skills that la Mala the MC has in her arsenal, and the seemingly limitless potential she showed on her breakthrough LP three years ago. Malamarismo, while at times a delicious piece of irreverent and giddy fun, still suffered from its scattershot thematic approach. Her latest, Dirty Bailarina, steers away from the unrestrained experimentation, instead playing within the realm of retro-electro pop/rock.

And for the first few tracks, this approach suits la Mala. Lead single "No Pidas Perdón" rides some Eurhythmics-style synths, while la Mala spits straight dirty (meaning attitude, not in the scatological sense) rhymes straight into your earhole. And of the more traditional hip-hop tunes, “En la Linea” is a minimalist-banger which sounds more like classic Calle 13 than anything off of Entren los Que Quieren.

The major hurdle on this album lies when la Mala veers almost completely towards the pop field. La Mala is a fine enough vocalist, but there are far too many tracks on this album where her presence doesn’t make up anything greater than just an anonymous hook girl. Stuff like “Nene” and “Prima” aren’t awful songs, but there’s almost nothing to them, from production to lyrics to chorus. These songs would be fine as the demo from some up-and-coming 19-year old artist, but la Mala’s personality is stifled in this context.

Thankfully, the latter half of the album contains some nice down-tempo tracks, along with a pretty solid duet with Estrella Morente that closes the record, but the overall effect is that of a disappointment. This isn’t to say that la Mala is a lost cause or anything, but she’s not any closer to that XXL cover that we know she has the chops to someday earn.

New Single: Calle 13 feat. The Mars Volta - "Calma Pueblo"

No one gets more empowered by lyrics than Rene Perez (Residente), one of our most creative ‘leadmen’ in music, and on the shortlist for best rapper in the world. The Puerto Rican duo is back promoting “Calma Pueblo”, the first single from their forthcoming October release, the fourth LP in their shining career. The song features The Mars Volta and, while the premise seems interesting, the song is underwhelming to say the least. I’m trying to figure out if this is as bad as “No Hay Nadie Como Tu” (feat. Café Tacvba), but “Calma Pueblo” is disappointing and very boring. Rene seems uninspired lately, at least judging from his awkward and almost shameful (from his side) collaborations with Dante Spineta, Andres Calamaro and the late Mercedes Sosa.

Calle 13 is probably one of the few acts that could take on the responsibility of speaking for the people, but to do it in such a bland manner is almost offensive to the band’s ideals on superficiality, “lo que sientes tu lo siento yo, porque yo soy como tu.” The lyrics don’t do much and the music is barely there to serve a purpose instead of detonating corporative chains. “Calma Pueblo” is especially irritating because we’ve seen Calle 13 taking on that high-profile character in marvelous songs such as “Querido FBI” or “La Crema.” Here is hoping the group doesn’t lose its edge, “Calma Pueblo” is minor Calle 13, or better worst, Calle 13 trying to hard to be major. Is this ruining our anticipation of the actual album? Not really. After all, they are a step close to being favorite band.

Video + MP3: Los Rakas - "Soy Raka"

Fader has premiered the highly demanded (and splendid turf) “Soy Raka” by Panama’s hottest act, Los Rakas. They’ve been caring their buzz through every underground outlet on the book, it’s nice to finally see them breakthrough into the pop-culture blogs they clearly belong to. It’s also refreshing to see how well adjusted they seem to be around the Latin Alternative movement, something remarkable considering very few urban artists can make it work (Calle 13, Tego Calderon). The video is technically flawless, but its content has gathered some very heated debate from some of Fonograma’s favorite people like Josh Kun and Toy Selectah who seem disappointed for the song’s chorus “tengo mi pistola y diente de oro”, specifically because such line is shouted by kids. They got a point, considering kids catching up to the catchy tune won’t get the metaphor (gun=mouth), but as their publicist Natalia Linares points out, it’s not so different to those gunshots on MIA’s “Paper Planes.” Catch Los Rakas at this year’s Latin Alternative Music Conference & grab their also amazing track “Abrazame” on our latest compilation.

♫♫♫ "Soy Raka"

Un Disparo Al Centro, Como Asesinar Felipes

UN DISPARO AL CENTRO,
COMO ASESINAR FELIPES
Potoco Discos, Chile
Rating: 79
By Carlos Reyes

Objective CAF: “Derretir el tempano, porque estamos como tú, destruyendo el templo.” They’re Chile’s coolest coolest urban act and they have the coolest band name, Como Asesinar Felipes are back with yet another schycophrenic set of songs. Santiago’s bleakest quientet is already known for their rich tragic phrasing, the obtrusiveness of their rhymes, and the industrial manufacturing of their rap. Prior material had exposed a bold and confident band, but this time the orchestration has been broaden to fit the lyrics, sometimes even taking protagonism from the rappers, the fact that there are two instrumental pieces here is an indication of their jump into an actual band. 2009 has been weak for Urban music in general, but this would stand as one of the notable latin urban albums of the year along with Menuda Coincidencia’s Ai Con Permisito.

Como Asesinar Felipes are legit speakers of the human kind, while most rapers extract their juice from social-minded reasoning, these guys keep it classy and jazzy: “escucha en tu interior la palabra mas intima.” Un Disparo Al Centro is not a socio-political statement or a reinforcement of their ego, it’s a critique on music. It’s nothing like Calle 13’s critique on the industry, which deals mainly on them evolving music. The chilean band appproaches things through a deeper attack on authorship and by that, a critique on themselves since they are participants of the whole thing. It sees music as the fascinating art form it is and also as the harmful distraction that it ends up being to many of us. “Cuando la verdad no encaja” is in its mystery, a pessimistic song about music as an escapism, “ahora escribo lo que dicta mi latido, cuando la realidad no encaja, tu realidad sera un drama”, next time one of their songs depresses the heck out of you, remember they did warn you.

“Nos reune el proposito” is built upon the introductory sampling, a tool that becomes essential throughout the album. “La Puerta no se abre sola” is the result of criminal desire, they truly sound like a mafia trying to resolve tedious music, “tu musica dolorosa que nos obliga a pensar cosas, nos obliga a pensar cosas que pensar no queremos.” The jazz elements are especially prominent in “Un Disparo al Centro”, they emphasize their will to make a disaster out of ‘dumb easy music’, to strike it down in its core. Un Disparo Al Centro is only about 20 minutes long, gladly it's fully armed and round that it feels like a full feature, quoting the first sampling in the album: “Es un álbum de experiencias, yo le sugiero a cualquiera persona que escuche el disco, que lo oigan en su casa si es posible, completa tranquilidad, y que lo escuchen de principio a fin. Es un álbum de reflexión, puede bailar también si quiere, pero la intención no era crear ese frenesí de baile, si no una circunstancia más emocional, más reflexiva.”

♫♫♫ "La Puerta No Se Abre Sola"
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"Faquir", Niña Dioz (Final Version)

“Faquir” by Niña Dioz is seriously the best song she has ever recorded, I explained why on this previous post, but here is the master final version of the track, which I had posted here before but I’m posting it again since I made an error including an unfinished version of it on our Fonogramaticos Vol.4 compilation. That’s what you get for having demos and rough-drafts standing around the good stuff. I will be uploading the compilation again with the correct version of the song, but here it is on its own so you don’t have to download the whole thing again.

♫♫♫ Faquir

"Dreamin", Milkman

There’s not enough urban music on this site, perhaps there’s not too much to choose from, so far the year's best releases have come from Menuda Coincidencia, Zozaya DJ, Arcangel and Choc Quib Town. Monterrey’s Milkman (Milko) sent us a song from his upcoming EP (due on September), and it is here for you to download. It’s titled “Dreamin” and aims to sound epic, “I want to go high and touch the sky.” We know him from Toy Selectah’s Raverton remix for Quiero Club’s “The Flow”, plus his recent remix for “Mrs. Love” by Disco Ruido! There are lots of Mexican rock bands singing in English but this is our first encounter with a Mexican rapper doing his thing primarily in English (not counting the Mexican-American rappers of course).

♫♫♫ "Dreamin"
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