Showing posts with label matias aguayo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label matias aguayo. Show all posts

Matias Aguayo - El Rudo del House

















Matias Aguayo, our favorite Chilean-born/European-based artist outside of Alexis Sanchez, returns from years of hibernation with the rousing “El Rudo del House.” It’s a welcome return to form for Aguayo and his Comemé label, which hasn’t had a massive run since Rebolledo's outstanding debut LP back in 2011. "El Rudo del House” is a frenetic and loose number that isn’t too far removed from The Visitor, Aguayo’s underrated 2013 album. However, the lack of vocals indicates that Aguayo is moving away from the pop songwriting of his last two LPs. Whatever happens, this latest single is proof that Aguayo still knows how to turn up a dance floor. That’s why he’s the label boss…

Matias Aguayo - The Visitor

The Visitor, Matias Aguayo
Cómeme, Germany/Chile
Rating: 78
by Monika Fabian

Before adding “El Sucu Tucu” to our mental dictionaries (1. noun, ‘that crazy rhythm that’s really good’; 2. n., onomatopoetic dance music) in late April, the last we’d heard from Matias Aguayo was in 2011. His I Don’t Smoke EP had left my colleague Ruben Torres’ curiosity piqued and wondering when the Berlin-based DJ/producer would put away the passport long enough to record a follow-up to 2009’s stellar, Ay Ay Ay. Well, as it turned out, The Visitor, released in June, became the sum of that itinerant gigging (famously with his impromptu BumBumBox street parties) and features even more collaborations with Cómeme labelmates and other fellow artists.

By releasing what amounts to the synthesis of five years worth of sights and sounds from around the globe, it would appear that Matias Aguayo is more interested in context than concept these days. Each song on The Visitor has the feel of a vignette (and the qualities of a flash street party, too)—bursting with frenzied color and energy, but done as if on-the-fly. Gone is the sophisticated simplicity of “Rollerskate.” (Less, no longer more, has evidently skipped town and discovered the world in all its messy, organic glory.) In its place, we have beating (and breathing) layered beats, tonal textures, and multifarious rhythms from Mexico City, Buenos Aires, Medellin, and elsewhere in Aguayo’s travels and psyche.

Paradoxically, the LP’s best tracks remind of the lone, measured Aguayo of yore, but also the beauty in analog and digital collisions and realtime chaos. The percussive punta-led, laser-accented jam “Llegó El Don” is Aguayo at his finest on this album in this respect. On the following track, the early-aughts-esque pop song “Una Fiesta Diferente,” a beguiling Aguayo sings in Spanglish with Timberlakean flair about heading to a party “that’s not bad, but just not for me.” Lead single “El Sucu Tucu” and “El Camarón” are highlights not only because they’re funky and incredibly infectious, they also demonstrate that Aguayo’s vocal percussion is like no other in dance music (and perhaps only comparable to Juana Molina in contemporary music). Aguayo, like Molina, reshapes words to their most elemental sounds as if sculpting sonic clay, and vice versa, he takes sounds and attaches meaning to them.

And just as “Rollerskate” delivers a gliding sensation, the listener, too, feels in on the ride here—assuming the role of a visitor, dancing through fleeting locale by locale— to mostly sun-soaked destinations (“Aonde,” “Las Cruces”), but also the occasional disorienting and perplexing place, too. Such is this case with “By the Graveyard,” a brooding cut that’s overwhelmed by Aguayo’s vocals. Yet the biggest weakness of all might be that, unlike its evergreen 2009 predecessor, The Visitor struggles to overcome its contemporary nature. At best, the record serves as an exemplary collection of forward-thinking dance music from the late-aughts to 2013. At worst, The Visitor isn’t an album, it’s a history book.

Daniel Maloso - Hijos De José

Hijos de José, Daniel Maloso
Comeme, Mexico
Rating: 75
by Carlos Reyes

While the world waits for either another full album by techno god Ricardo Villalobos or another epic emotional dancefloor breakdown (see: Hercules and Love Affair’s “Blind”), we’re witnessing a dispersion in the continent-hopping community led by global pop-avant publications like XLR8R and Resident Advisor. It’s not that techno and disco music are running out of fuel or that audiophiles became impatient with the genres’ self-contained digital dialogue, the alteration is occurring straight from the artists themselves.

On one side we have someone like Nicolas Jaar who outshines its novelty with a sort of old-school jazz pigmentation to something that sounds so refreshingly new, on the other, we get something as creatively decaying as Discodeine claiming to dance to organized noise, and you just can’t help but wonder when exactly the dancefloor became so personal. Out of the European-hinting-Sudamerican dance collective, Cómeme, Monterrey DJ and self-proclaimed disco caveman Daniel Maloso stands on the ephemeral viaduct between a disco performer and a disco auteur. It’s this stance of Maloso as a sort of middleman that makes him such an interesting (if circumstantial) character in dance music. Because, really, with all the artists moving away from the all-comprehensive and universal magnetism of the genre, when Daniel Maloso sighs that “we are all sons of José,” we’re back to family business all over again.

As a regular collaborator to label pals Matías Aguayo and Rebolledo, Maloso had shown many signs of disco shimmer and sun glitter, which he mostly omits in the dark, almost petrifying Hijos de José. Album opener and ultimate standout “No Doy Nada” portrays Maloso as a happy-go-lucky renegade in a piece that’s monophonic in its wavelength and nonchalant in its political discourse. There might not be much vocal variation throughout the album (or much vocals for that matter), but whenever Maloso shouts his two-to-three word vocal punches (especially in “Discoteca Cavernicola”), the verbal orchestrations go from passive to active. Daniel Maloso isn’t blazing new trails or going ballistic with an auteur approach, but that doesn’t mean he’s less ambitious. In the end, it’s that well-measured grouping of disco strength, character, and open-to-the-conversation qualities that make this EP another standout in the prolific Cómeme catalog.

Matías Aguayo – I Don’t Smoke EP

I Don't Smoke EP,
MATÍAS AGUAYO

Kompakt, Chile/Germany

Rating: 70

BY REUBEN "JUDAH" TORRES

So, in looking to approach Matias Aguayo’s latest output critically, I narrowed the focus to three possibilities: 1) Matias Aguayo as a continually evolving and chameleonic figure in dance music, 2) the influence of Cómeme, as the atypical, Latin-friendly tech-house label, and 3) Rebolledo, do you have a cigarette? No, I don’t smoke. LOL! Fortunately, there was no need to settle on just one, as there is enough eclecticism on I Don’t Smoke to serve every one of these avenues.

“Dance Machine” starts off the record with the sultry house rhythms of yore, blending all too well with the current state of retromanic, four-to-the-floor dance music, which is now so prevalent on both sides of the pond (see: Miracles Club and Teengirl Fantasy for some less Euro-centric examples). A clang here, a drum machine there, and “Cómeme Riddim” is exactly what its title portends, a measured tribute to that certain Kompakt sub-label. “Niños,” on the other hand, is one of the more off-kilter pieces in the lot and speaks to Aguayo’s penchant for working disparate sounds laterally.

In many ways “I Don’t Smoke” is the quintessential Matias Aguayo track, with the kind of sophisticated, subtly sexual (if somewhat blasé) restraint that has followed him since his days in Closer Musik. The tounge-firmly-in-cheek quality of the track’s sole vocal hook would feel right at home among Cómeme’s ample in-joke repertory (see: Rebolledo’s "Guerrero"). Though seemingly banal in style and execution, its consistently hypnotic simplicity holds well against repeated listenings, equally effective as a stay-at-home headphone number or a comedown for hectic dancefloors.

It’s hard not to see the autochthonous “Kuddle Riddim,” one of two digital bonuses included, as a remnant of the Latin-infused BumBumBox parties that bore the Cómeme label. However, rather than take a ubiquitous sound, namely tribal (or 3ball, depending on whose school you subscribe to), and lend it the typical Matias treatment, it is simply included as a reference rhythm, presumably for less-than-saavy DJs looking to appear exotically au courant. I Don’t Smoke is not so much an EP as it is a couple of solid tracks accompanied by a decent set of DJ tools. Its scattershot character serves as an apt manifestation of an increasingly multifarious producer. There is enough material on here, however, to spark genuine interest in Aguayo’s future ventures. That is, if he ever decides to stop touring.

New Single: Matias Aguayo - "I Don't Smoke"



Wheeeeeeeee!!!!
OK, perhaps that was not the most professional opening sentence in Club Fonograma history, but it's new Aguayo single time and I'm PSYCHED! Coming off of his triumphant (and Destacado-worthy) second album, the Chilean-born, German-representin' DJ decides to take a more irreverent route with "I Don't Smoke," the single for his latest EP, out on Kompakt next week.

While the track doesn't really sound anything like the poly-rhythmic head trip that was Ay Ay Ay, that doesn't mean that there's anything about this that's rote in any fashion. Over the course of seven-plus minutes, the track builds from a minimal keyboard ditty into a funky, almost caribe conga beat. While the lyrical content is likely a decisive point of contention, this is certainly more fun that many techno tracks that try to go the humorous route--and certainly much more enjoyable than that Battles duet that was the aural equivalent of painting a house a thousand different colors until it ended up looking brown. While his protege Rebolledo may be getting more buzz in our little end of the world, Aguayo's latest shows that he's still got the touch.


Video: Matias Aguayo - "Ritmo Juarez"


Matias Aguayo has yet to announce any details of his next album, so it’s a good thing he keeps juicing up his excellent 2009 record Ay Ay Ay. Aguayo, who still resides in Buenos Aires and Paris, has maintained himself pretty occupied doing workshop for his Comeme collective. The label has not fully exploded its talent (which it has plenty of), but it’s already earning a privileged spot as one of Latin American ultimate sources for minimal & techno. Under the scope of video director Julia Kasprzak (who also directed Rebolledo’s “Guerrero”), Aguayo dances to “Ritmo Juarez”, one of his album’s most infectious songs. The background has plenty of color (all drawings by Aguayo himself), and shows an army of Matias Aguayos coordinating moves with his exciting tribal vocals.

Video: Rebolledo - "Fresh"


It's been a banner year for electronic/techno music (otherwise labeled here as "beatz"). We've seen stand-out albums from superstars like Four Tet and Pantha du Prince, to up-and-comers like Mount Kimbie and Actress, not to mention the amazing techno-influenced pop of Javiera Mena, James Blake, and Maria y Jose. But there's still room for some new blood, few of which are hotter than Mexico's Rebolledo at the moment. The first signee to Matias Aguayo's Coméme (get it?) label, the former Playa del Carmen-based DJ has seen his work (both solo and with Superpitcher as "Pachanga Boys") featured on many high-profile compilations, not mention his delicious debut single "Pitaya Frenesi."

His latest video, for the single "Fresh," is a neat little visual exercise, full of ice cream, sunglasses, and, of course, girls. The song itself is a striding bit of confident guitar play and daytime cool. It may not be the biggest banger in the world (though you should seriously go check out that "Pitaya Frenesi" clip), but consider us whetting at the beak for his debut LP next year.

SXSW Entry #6: Matias Aguayo - LA ENTREVISTA


(OK, I know these entries are bordering on becoming Matias Aguayo's personal PR blog, but in my defense: A) he's a crazy awesome musician, B) his show schedule just ended up syncing with me, and C) he's a very gracious man who made the time to give us this insightful interview. I want to thank him and the guys at Kompakt and Cómeme for making this happen.)

Q: Over the last couple of years, your reputation critically has gotten bigger and bigger. Do you feel that you’re not being judged as honestly as you used to be when you weren’t so well-known and well-reviewed?

A: Obviously that happens, but it’s something that I really don’t consider so important for myself. It’s more a part of the job. What’s more important for me is that I can help my friends and network in South America and enjoy new possibilities. Sure, it’s challenging in a way, but it’s more encouraging and keeps me unafraid of things. I think my friends and I have a lot of stories to tell and stuff and we’re really looking forward to, new gigs, new productions. So I feel quite easy about it.

Q: You were mentioning South America, Chile is not Germany, or Bristol, New York, or Detroit, that has a lot of techno artists come out of it. What’s the stuff that got you in the techno scene?

A: All of my music history and roots are reflected in what I do today and nowadays I also think that for me, places like Santiago, Buenos Aires and all of Latin America are even more interesting than many think because I think the freshest stuff, the stuff that interests me most and makes me dance most, comes from there at the moment. It’s certainly stuff with its own possibilities and its own roots.

Q: Then do you feel like an outsider in the scene? I think of “Minimal,” it was kinda of a defiant/challenging song ("got no groove, got no balls")--you’re challenging the peers who you feel are lacking. Are you an outsider, or do you just feel like you’re part of everything, but with your own aesthetic?

A: I think sometimes that I might be an outsider. But on the other hand, I think that the techno scene is a place for outsiders, so I feel very free, especially in the past few years, when I've gotten the impression that people are more open to music and I can feel more free when playing music, and I feel that people don’t know what they want to hear, so it’s a very good moment to play the new, fresh stuff and stuff that comes from places that maybe were in the cultural periphery.

Q: Where do you get much of the stuff you’re into? Europe—connected to the scene? Or is seeking out music just a part of your daily life?

A: I have a sort of parallel life in the sense that I grew up in Germany, Cologne specifically, and I’m proud of the music there. On the other hand, there was always a very strong link to South America, so what I do is produce stuff that’s atypical, like coming from somewhere else. Not having a “hometown” now has become an advantage in the sense that I can combine things, musical and racial, and my friendships of South America with a very good infrastructure and administration from Germany, considering Kompakt is here and encourages this sort of thing.

Q: Have you ever given thought to doing a full-length album with professional singers, or do you not comfortable with this aspect of the collaborative process?

A: I consider myself a singer. It’s my main instrument. My way of singing has a special relationship to the music I make, but on the other hand, I’m very open to collaborations and I think that’s going to be the next step, like Cómeme [Aguayo's Kompakt spin-off label] is already a collaboration with a lot of people and inviting people to sing and put their vocals on other people’s tracks so I think something like that is the logical next step. I’m not afraid of the challenge because I enjoy music-making so much that this is the most important for me.



♫♫♫ "Rollerskate" (Radio Edit)


SXSW Entry #5: Charades, Delorean/Aguayo

Friday night at SXSW answered many long-pondered questions: Can I make it an entire day of just Chick Fil A and tortilla chips? (yes) Does chasing whiskey with Heineken leave your mouth feeling minty fresh? (no) Does Bill Murray appreciate random fans coming up to him as he tries to watch Fool's Gold? (no) Can a drunk quadriplegic have his wheelchair cited for drunk driving? (yes, although I'm sure you could weasel your way out of a citation by blaming the wheels in some way)

And with my brain now resting a bit easier, I can reflect on the actual music that I caught last night. I started the night at Mi Casa Cantina (which is neither a casa nor a cantina) to see the Spanish indie group Charades attempt to impress a group of stragglers. They seemed in fine form, as the songs on their recent Revolución Solar sounded just right during the terror twilight period. Of course, the consistent sound problems (which also plagued Los Amparito the night before) dulled a bit of the band's energy, although to their credit, they persevered and gave an ultimately worthy show.

From there, I kicked around in a hotel room (amidst a slew of e-mail and Twitter links from El Jefe Reyes) before going to Emo's Jr. for some techno grooves. First up was the Barcelona electro-pop act Delorean, who quickly went in for the kill by opening their set with their hit "Seasun." What was notable about this version (and really, the set in general) was how much more organic they sounded live than on record. It was also surprisingly how Spanish they actually sounded too. Believe it or not, there's not that thick of a line between Delorean and, say, Los Planetas--just a few instruments and some Resident Advisor-approved material. I will admit that the set began to meander when every song began to sound epic in that "the world's about to be swallowed in an ocean of unrestrained noise" kind of way, but by the end of the set, they began laying down some !!!-esque funk that got the crowd dancing and switching sunglasses among one another. And yes, that really happened. I have pictures to prove it.

Closing the night was another set from who's quickly becoming the MVP of SXSW 2010, Matias Aguayo. This show was a much more traditional house set than the day party from two days ago. The beats were more stacked, and the crowd was much more devoted and patient. Aguayo didn't deliver them the standard techno goods though--every track was accentuated with more traditional Latin rhythms, ranging from distinctive drums to maracas, which reflected the "sound of the border" that Aguayo has inadvertently evoked. Even while frantically searching for the right button, instrument, or sample (HE'S NOT USING A COMPUTER, PEOPLE!), Aguayo still found time to unleash his dance moves every so often...which made me dance...and the girl next to me dance...and so on and so on. I'm telling you, Aguayo is infectious!! The set concluded with the 1-2 uppercut of "Bo Jack" and "Rollerskate," which blended referee whistles, 808, and female-sung gibberish into a euphoria of house bliss. It didn't matter that we were approaching 2 am, it seemed like the party was only starting which, in the case of someone with Aguayo's M.O., may be the highest compliment I can pay.

SXSW Entry #1: Terrorbird/Forcefield Media Day Party

Hello my wonderful readers! So today is apparently St. Patrick's Day, a.k.a. "Hey America! Let's appropriate and tangentially celebrate another culture by getting wasted and beating to death the only three Irish phrases I know! ERIN GO BRAUGH, bro!"

(high fives random stranger wearing Celtics jersey)

Despite the above "joke," I don't think that St. Patrick's Day is all that bad. I just find it puzzling in the same way that Cinco de Mayo confuses me. I mean, it's an important date in Mexican history, but it's not that important. Why was May 5th appropriated, while the TRUE Mexican holiday of Diez y Seis de Septiembre remains untouched? Mid-September is awesome! The last period of time before the leafs fall and the weather gets too volatile. DOESN'T AMERICA WANT ANOTHER EXCUSE TO CALL IN SICK AND GET DRUNK ALL DAY?! Regardless, I totally forgot it was St. Patrick's Day until I was already dressed, so I had to improvise and came up with the following aesthetic change:

Do you like? I think it's a nice touch.

Anyways, on to the music. I spent the first hour of my day looking for a parking spot. Thankfully, the place I finally located was near-by the venue of today's free day show which featured Club Fonograma-approved artists Neon Indian and Matias Aguayo. I didn't get to see too much of Neon Indian, who God bless him is maybe the most popular person in Austin since Vince Young. The part of his set that I caught relied heavily on last year's outstanding Psychic Chasms, but it was interesting to see how much fuller his glo-fi sounds when surrounded by a full-band. I'd go more into detail, but I'll likely catch him tomorrow afternoon, so except a full report then.

But, I couldn't stay outside for long, because Matias Aguayo was playing inside of the day party venue. His show seemed to fill only about half the club, which was sad, considering that the line to see Neon Indian extended out the door. But those with the sense to see Aguayo were treated to a fine 30 minutes of top-rate techno. Opening his set with a trance-y, more frantic version of the phenomenal "Rollerskate," Aguayo established a thunderous tone that he maintained throughout the set. His breaks were accented with off-kilter beats and slide whistles, as he excitedly sorted through his equipment for the right button or sample to keep the flow going. From here, he tore into "Ritmo Juarez," whose cries of "RITMO!" transfixed this mix of hipsters and scenesters, soaking their ambivalence with a bit of fuerza, just in time for a rousing finale of last year's one-off single "Bo Jack," which is easily the most awesome techno song to use the Bo Diddley beat. Go ahead, find a better song. I DEFY YOU! I was able to catch up with Aguayo after his set, and he agreed to an interview for us, which should be up later this week. But for now, I need to sit down. I think this headband is cutting off some circulation...

Video: Matías Aguayo - "Rollerskate"


Matías Aguayo is keeping busy working on Comeme, the collective project he founded with friend Gary Pimiento in hopes of internationalizing Latin America’s electrotechno nights. We adored Ay Ay Ay, the best album in his blossoming career, which is very mysterious. We adored his first single “Rollerskate” and although small clips of it have been circulating the web, the video is finally here! The video directed by Trevor Jackson is all over the place, but it’s could be described as a sweaty hallucinating roller-disco experience. Matías Aguayo will be performing at SXSW this year, as well as making stops at other venues in the states, get it rolling!

Andrew Casillas' Best Music of 2009: Part 2...”All up on you like a monster truck”

Hello everybody. Andrew Casillas here again, with the second part of my 3-part “Best of 2009” piece. The last part, my top 10 singles of the year, will be posted next week as soon as its published in it’s alt-weekly counterpart. But don’t worry, Carlos and the guys will be back before then with some new stuff. Saludos! [I’ve also included an SOT (“stand-out track”) that you should seek out if you think you might be interested in the album being blurbed. And this time, I’d added links for both this post AND the previous post, so you can hear the songs that I’ve shouted out. The vast majority of these albums are also available for streaming in-full on Lala, so please, enjoy!]

10. Miranda LambertRevolution: What’s amazing about Revolution isn’t how Miranda Lambert was able to avoid a disappointing follow-up to Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (the second best Country album of the decade), but rather how much the new album illuminated the previous one. For example, while “White Liar” may not be as hummable “Gunpowder & Lead,” the former trades shock and violence for candidness and wound-exposure to plumb emotional depths that the latter couldn’t touch. Even the down-tempo songs provide a similar effect; “Dead Flowers” and “Desperation” may cover similar moods, but the Revolution track sounds like the work of a woman, rather than the ruminations of a young adult. And then there are brutal and powerful tracks like “Me and Your Cigarettes” that are worthy of 10,000 word essays in themselves. Revolution may have more dead weight than Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, which is why it doesn’t quite reach the previous album’s level, but it’s more than enough to place Lambert in the upper echelon of musicians working today.

SOT: "Me and Your Cigarettes" LALA

09. Junior BoysBegone Dull Care: I don’t really know much about the duo of Junior Boys on a personal level, but I’ll admit this: they’ve got balls. Who else would have the gall to use the word “Dull” in the title of their most straightforward and subtle album? Saying that, yeah, it’s a bit dull—if you’re the type that couldn’t be bothered with nuance. While, on first listen, “Parallel Lines” and “Work” seem to drudge with languor, careful listens reveal gradual shifts in tempo and restraint worthy of the finest minimal techno or Kompakt Total compilation. Then there are the party starters “Bits & Pieces” and “Hazel,” which can be quite excellent for dancing in the dark (and I ain’t referring to what Springsteen was talking about, knawhaimean?). Oh, and I can’t leave out “Dull to Pause,” if only because I’ve been screaming for a banjo-centered electronic beat for years, and FINALLY! I can die now…

SOT: “Dull to Pause” LALA

08. Buddy & Julie MillerWritten in Chalk: Again, who? Well, if you’d been paying attention to independent Country-rock for the past 20 years (Gawd, what is wrong with you?!), you’d know the following: Buddy Miller is a great guitarist. His wife Julie is a dynamic singer-songwriter. They’ve made a few notable records separately, and this is the second album that they’ve collaborated on. And it’s fantastic. Recorded in their Nashville home, the album is a hodgepodge of basically every Country subgenre: country-rock, country-soul, country-blues, country-lite jazz, etc. There's an ebb-and-flow to this record, almost as if this were a 12-song suite. The lyrics and guitar work is boozy and triumphant, even when the tempo slows down. It's obvious that these two play so well off of each other that they know precisely how much power and depth to give each track. Of particular note is Julie Miller's soft expression as she sings, revealing a sense of agony and uncertainty, even when she's trying to be humorous—then again, I subscribe to the theory that women should sing everything.

SOT: “Gasoline & Matches” LALA

07. The-DreamLove vs. Money: In 15 years, there will be a great discussion of utmost importance. It will exhaust the mediums of debate and cross all lines of decorum. That debate can be summarized thusly: Who had the better career: R. Kelly or the-Dream? And Love vs. Money will be Prosecution’s Exhibit A, because for all of Kelly’s singles-awesomeness, he was never able to create an album as consistent and glorious as what Terius Nash created in 2009. Love vs. Money is one of those albums where everything is saturated but nothing is subject to overkill. Sex, money, synthesizer, booty-beats, pick up lines alternately clever (“circle the stars and bring you one back”) and straightforwardly disgusting/hilarious (“can we fuck now?”), everything just seems to work in spite of logic. The-Dream even out-R. Kelly’s R. Kelly on one track, telling a girl he’s “all up on you like a monster truck.” I think even Kells would agree, the-Dream has him beat on that one. R&B album of the year, easy.

SOT: “Mr. Yeah” LALA


06. Yeah Yeah YeahsIt’s Blitz!: On first listen, I sort of dismissed It’s Blitz! for, among other things, making Karen O sound “too much like Gwen Stefani.” Then I realized that it sounded like what would be labeled “alternative pop”—the type of music exemplified by the Killers or MGMT, two bands who get on my nerves (though “Time to Pretend” is admittedly awesome). Then I realized that my hatred of all things Brandon Flowers shouldn’t be a deterrent and began to recognize that this production aesthetic wasn’t some detour for Yeah Yeah Yeahs—it was their destiny. The aggression giving way to dancefloor bliss, the melodrama leading to genuineness, the use of obtuse arrangements to assert idiosyncratic euphoria—this is what this band does best! The fact that this is the best album from one of the best bands of this decade goes to show you that you should always steer away from prejudice. That’s not to say that I’m going to give Hot Fuss another chance, mind you…

SOT: “Soft Shock” LALA

05. Matias AguayoAy Ay Ay: A couple of years ago, I spent a sweat-filled, drunken night in Juarez, Chihuahua (this was before CNN wasn’t filing reports called “DANGER ON THE BORDER” every night). I don’t recall much about it, but I remember the vibrancy of the city streets as all the clubs let out and people made their way to diners, after-parties, or the United States. Ay Ay Ay seemingly creates that experience. For 11 charming and breathless tracks, Matias Aguayo deconstructs minimal techno into a schizophrenic street party of his own creation. I say “breathless” because the majority of the album’s sound is literally sampled from Aguayo’s own vocal sound effects, yet he surrounds these hums and pops with enough ear candy that you can’t help but start shaking in your seat. From boombox hums conveying the feeling of a roller-rink party (“Rollerskate”) to the sluggish, reflective hangover of “Koro Koro,” to the predatory coos of “Ritmo Juarez,” these are songs about those late nights that can quickly turn into early mornings. Or as you probably know them as, the greatest nights of your life.

SOT: “Rollerskate” LALA

04. St. VincentActor: One look at Annie Clark, otherwise known as St. Vincent, and you get the feeling that you know everything about her. She looks like one of your grandmother’s dolls, and dresses like the world’s most fashionable mannequin. She looks like the type of girl that everyone wanted to date, but was too smart to actually approach. I could go on and on, but there’s certainly one thing that that picture could never prepare you for: the girl can fucking shred. On Actor, Clark juxtaposes her skillful, and at-times brutal, guitar work with orchestral flourishes worthy of classic Disney movies. You’d be forgiven for thinking this approach to be awfully coy, but you’d also be mistaken; this is a complicated and contemplative rumination on modern love. Almost every song conveys the sense that something sensual, frantic, or gruesome is approaching, or may be already here. Luckily, Actor is buoyed by such fine songwriting that these dark feelings end up sounding beautiful. (And for what it’s worth, “The Party” also contains my favorite lyric of the year: “I sit transfixed by a hole in your t-shirt/I’ve said much too much in the trying to speak up”)

SOT: “The Strangers” LALA

03. The FieldYesterday & Today: The Field is the pseudonym of Swedish DJ Axel Willner, who doesn’t just mix tracks together like a typical techno producer. He actually mixes tracks with live instrumentation, recording it live as if it were one great, intimate performance. Yesterday & Today, his second album, is a marvelous example of this technique. Criminally mislabeled as “minimal techno,” there’s hardly anything minimal about this: these are hazy, sprawling, elaborate tracks reminiscent of shoegaze or dream pop. For the layman, think My Bloody Valentine with no guitars but the same sheen; or Sigur Rós without the gibberish lyrics or indie chords. Some would complain that this sort of music is meandering and seems too tied to a formula to withstand more than a cursory listen, but this is where you’d be wrong. There’s an ambiance to each track, which acts as the foundation by which little nuggets are casually dropped and processed through, providing numerous avenues for the listener to explore. And it’s this aspect of the album that makes it so striking: you can hear the fun and abandon and delight being taken in this music, and as we all know, joy is infectious.

SOT: “Sequenced” LALA

02. Juan SonMermaid Sashimi: Formally of the highly-popular Mexican indie band Porter, Juan Son’s debut album is a concept album about (stay with me here) a human who finds himself transformed into a sea creature by a mermaid, all the while teasing an octopus, commenting on the politics of the underwater world, and, um, travelling through time. Hey, I didn’t say that it was the most realistic story—but you have to admit, it sounds a HELL of a lot better than Avatar, right? Regardless of how well that concept sold you, you won’t be able to deny the music’s brilliance. Encompassing styles ranging from electro-pop, post-punk and New Wave to Broadway jazz, IDM, and ambient, this is an album rich in equal parts pop goodness and avant-garde WTF?-ability. That being said, this album is simply gorgeous. There’s a tendency in the post-Arcade Fire world to make every song sound like the end of the world, mistaking catharsis for bombast. Mermaid Sashimi has a similar element of drama and ruin, but it’s not crying that the sky is falling; it’s setting its feet to the ground, and daring you to follow it into the sea. I suggest that you do what the album says.

SOT: “Mermaid Sashimi” LALA

01. Natalia LafourcadeHu Hu Hu: As a (part-time, typically unpaid) music critic, I have to listen to a lot of music in attempting to keep up with what’s “going on.” And most of that stuff is pretty routine, uninteresting, or downright awful. But every once in a while, you get to hear something so unique, so special, and so stunning that you want to shout about its greatness to every person who will hear you. So I’ll go into all caps when I say that Hu Hu Hu is one of the FINEST POP ALBUMS…EVER. The product of Mexican songstress Natalia Lafourcade, Hu Hu Hu bridges the borders between art-rock, indie rock, and pure pop to create a world where kaleidoscopic grandeur and reflective emotionalism can share the same stage without conflict. Lyrically, each song is an introspection of a character’s journey through post-adolescent confusion and longing into self-discovery, but that’s not to say that the album is heavy-handed or precociously coy. Instead, the lyrics provide shades of realistic grays and blues to the instrumentation’s vibrant colors and shapes. Yet it’s this vibrancy that stands out most on Hu Hu Hu. From mid-period Beatles-aping jaunts through your endorphins (“Cursis Melodías”) to glockenspiel-filled tales of disappointment (“No Viniste”) to wall of sound rock escapism (“Let’s Get Out,” “Look Outside”) to seemingly Sesame Street-inspired mood pieces (“Niño Hojas,” “Hora de Compartir”) to two singles that include virtually everything including the kitchen sink (“Ella es Bonita,” “Azul”), this isn’t so much an album of pop songs, but a quasi-play celebrating the power and possibilities of musical expression. Albums like this are the reason that we listen to music—because of the slight possibility that you’ll hear something that you’ve never heard before, or transcends what you’d think was possible, or that you’ll simply want to hear over and over again. Thankfully, Hu Hu Hu is here to reaffirm that belief at least for another year.

SOT: “Cursis Melodías” LALA

Ay Ay Ay, Matias Aguayo



AY AY AY, MATIAS AGUAYO

Kompakt Germany, Chile
Rating: 90
by Andrew Casillas

Not to sound like a disgruntled reader or ungrateful writer or anything, but I wish that Club Fonograma could review more techno records from Latin artists. Of course, such a proposition doesn’t have a quick-fix. Most electronic artists prefer the quick 12-inch or EP rather than deliver entire albums of new material. Also, many of the more prominent labels promote compilation packages to showcase their entire roster of artists, like Kompact’s Total series, or the ZZK volumes. Not to mention that none of this staff’s writers could be described as “Beatz-heads,” despite the fact that we like to revel in our share of glitchy wax digi-fun.

So when a prominent techno artist of Latin descent gets around to releasing a full-length album, it’s quite the event around these parts. Thankfully, Chile’s Matias Aguayo has delivered not just one of the best techno records of the year, but one of the best records of the year period. Following up his spellbinding and transcendent singles “Walter Neff” and “Minimal,” Ay Ay Ay continues the evolution of one of today’s most unconventional and unpredictable producers. For 11 charming and breathless tracks, Aguayo seemingly deconstructs minimal techno into a schizophrenic street party of his own creation. From the siren-call laced swagger of “Menta Latte” to the El Guincho-esque faux-African noise collage “Juanita,” there’s enough sound on this album to fill an entire warehouse.

Part of Aguayo’s strength lies in the way that he has developed his own kind of melodic foundation out of an unusual rhythmic structure. Using his own voice as the base from which every track revolves could be a dangerous maneuver for a lesser producer, but Aguayo surrounds himself with enough ear candy to the point where you’re almost compelled to pay attention. Listen to the almost-fervent boombox hums on “Rollerskate,” and how they convey the feeling that you’re actually roller-skating. Pay attention to the cooing harmonies on “Ritmo Juarez,” and how they evoke the sound and feelings of those late nights that can quickly turn into early mornings. The sluggish and fuzzy noises of “Koro Koro,” a reflective piece of trance, that personally creeps this writer out because it sounds a lot like Paul Simon if he had an addiction to cough syrup.

I could continue to point out isolated moments on Ay Ay Ay and explain my personal interpretation of it all. But my personal appreciation isn’t what’s important. It’s how you choose to hear it. There’s so much detail embedded into every track that developing a definitive interpretation would be virtually futile. It’s this attention to the ways that sound can influence mood that makes Aguayo one of the more special artists in his field today. Ay Ay Ay may be built around the concept of a long, sweaty, late summer block party, but it doesn’t reinforce this notion at the expense of giddy listenability. It’s as if the record is telling you to enjoy this exactly how you please, as long as you just simply enjoy it.