Club Fonograma Archive: onda temporal

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Onda Temporal, Episodio Doce: Calafia Puta

Queen Calafia, has been depicted as the Spirit of California, and has been the subject of modern-day sculpture, paintings, stories and films. She often figures in the myth of California's origin, symbolizing an untamed and bountiful land prior to European settlement. The character of Calafia is used by Rodríguez de Montalvo to portray the superiority of chivalry in which the attractive virgin queen is conquered, converted to Christian beliefs and married off. Is a part of California history, and she also reinforces the fact that when Hernán Cortés named the place California, he had 300 black people with him.This history allows me to conclude the fact that this band calls this queen a "puta" because of the paganism and violence that develops its origin, all the unjust acts committed in absurd unjustified ways by the spanish crown and religion for the conquest and colonization of America. Not as barbaric as the ideology planted by the grindcore band Brujería in one of the greatest records of mexican power metal called Matando Güeros, but more intimate, regional and involved with their country and Tijuana.

Listening to Calafia Puta is like attending to a Mike Tyson fights, just when you're excited, everything is finished with a knockout. But, what did you expect from powerviolence? Is a raw, aggressive and dissonant subgenre of hardcore punk. So, there's no room and time for sentimentalism or melody here. All that matters is the content, the way in which an idea is expressed. Their lyrics are verses dedicated to the youth and sung with the revivifying aggression of modern time violence. And like that, this is maybe the best way of ending Onda Temporal, the Club Fonograma's expected journey recorded in unexpected places by a big and not-so big artists. In this one-minute performance of "Manifiesto Anarcojunior," Calafia Puta improvised on the street ringing in arrangements of the best trasheo tijuanense and sing "Más que un saludo, es un adiós. Mi más sentido pésame, hace tiempo nos mudamos de este mundo para siempre". All the chapters of Onda Temporal scoped by Carlos Matsuo's were not only live sessions, were living expressions.

Onda Temporal, Episodio Once: Santos

When director Carlos Matsuo sent me all the links of the episodes that made up Onda Temporal I skimmed through about half of them. Then I decided I would wait and unfold each episode one at a time –unfolding the narrative on a more nuanced and less exclusive pace. It’s intriguing to see the second to the last episode of the series take place at a cemetery. While Matsuo’s scope had taken us to holy grounds on its second episode (Alberto Acinas), this new one pans through a cemetery where the grass is sublimely green and rows of gravestones appear to be mysteriously new –perhaps belonging to the outburst of deaths the drug war has caused in Mexico. Looking like a not so friendly monk with dark shades, Tijuana’s Santos sings “Sin Salida” with a certain militant (not freed of irony) tone that registers as both, truthful and sinister.

Onda Temporal, Episodio Diez: Matilda Manzana

Óscar Rodríguez on a beach in the fog. Matilda Manzana's mastermind spins around and sings the bookending track of 2012's Conjuntos Cartográficos - the tempo of the melody a little more frantic than the dense, soft focus of the atmosphere around him. The beach in its out-of-season temperament makes a good metaphor for Matilda Manzana's brand of existential misfitting. We see other people in the background (and a pony at one point), the lifeguard's tower and a 4WD, highlighting the fact that Rodriguez is not really isolated in a murky void. His pining is one, as Club writer Pierre Lestruhaut pointed out in his Todas Las Ciudades Inundadas review, of a "guy-who-spends-his-time-in-a-small-bedroom-in-front-of-his-laptop." The jetty/pier may disappear into the white, but Rodriguez is not ready for that escape; he's still searching on the ground, at the feet of the main event.

Onda Temporal, Episodio Nueve: San Pedro El Cortez

While Carlos Matsuo (the man behind the curation, lensing, and development of Onda Temporal) is known for several contributions to cultural production, he’s best known for helming BASURA, a documentary about San Pedro El Cortez (as the subject to survey an up-and-coming reform in Mexican music). In a way, we can see Onda Temporal as an extension of BASURA, and opening its themes and geographic agency through twelve different subjects. This episode reunites Matsuo with the Tijuana garage band, who perform an acoustic –or as they call it, “la version chiilleta”- of “Poder Crudo.” Shot at night with glimpses of a not-so-well lighted city behind them, the camera registers the band in an elliptic movement. The confronting and close proximity of the camera speaks of the relationship between the band (that is or acts intoxicated) and the man with the camera (whose camera also starts to get dizzy towards the end).

Onda Temporal, Episodio Ocho: White Ninja

The newest episode of Onda Temporal presents an untitled new track by White Ninja. The previous seven episodes of the series served from an outside setting that in cases defined their purpose –they sure where easier to dissect than this one. Shot in a rehearsal room (recording room?) filled with both analog and digital machines, this might be the less memorable episoide yet on the surface, but as part of the Onda Temporal narrative, it’s truly significant. Leaving the topics of pedestrian and suburban life, White Ninja and director Carlos Matsuo choose to stay within walls as a way to shelter a song that’s still a work in progress. As the camera circles around, surveying the space and its subjects, it’s especially fascinating to see the blinding light coming out of the window. Whatever lives outside that room must be magnificient, for it manifests its prescence through splendorous white noise.

Onda Temporal, Episodio Siete: Verano Peligroso

Episode seven of the Onda Temporal webseries features the most chilling setting so far. It’s a travelogue of a tiny strip of what makes up Mexico City, starting at the infamous Bar Heaven, a club where twelve people were dissapeared (murdered) by organized crime. We can see the wall of the bar stamped with posters made by the victims’ families. While La Blogotheque’s visit to Mexico brought out lovely performances (framed by beautiful touristic vignettes), you really can’t beat the profound and emotional rawness idiosyncracy offers to director Carlos Matsuo. The travelogue is musicalized by Verano Peligroso, a little known duo by two familiar names to most of us: JackintoDiYEah! (member of Furland) and EsaMiPau! (radio host at Mexico City’s Ibero 90.9). “This goes to any people that has suffered a dissapearence,” they say on the intro, quickly establishing an emotional connection (contrasted to the expansive architecture of the buildings that surround them) with all of us that have gone through the estrangement of a loved one, including love itself of course. With brushes of twee and a beautiful cascade of whistles, Verano Peligroso encounter a great way to take their pop melodies out of the bedroom.

Onda Temporal, Episodio Seis: Ases Falsos

Having a somewhat relevant blog allows you to virtually “meet” the people you most admire. Totally showing off here, but I once exchanged a couple emails with Shakira. In times where having a strong virtual presence transfers as currency, it’s interesting how Cristobal Briceño has maintained a distance from social media. As we know, he rather keeps an omnipresence through his several bands: Los Mil Jinetes, Las Chaquetas Amarillas, and of course, his magnum opus, Ases Falsos. The sixth episode of Onda Temporal gets close into the personal space of Briceño and (part of) his band. Shot at the corner of Tijuana’s Latinoamericana (in the border of Mexico and the U.S.), we hear Ases Falsos deploy the melody of “Simetría” to bare bones. The warm and circular movement of Matsuo’s camera (capturing the beach, the sunlight and the border) enhances the themes of “Simetría” (form, depth, human welfare), and juxtaposes it (without scandalization) with the politics of the border. Also included in this episode, is a second part featuring an acoustic version of Juventud Americana's “Misterios del Perú,” as well as a lovely flirtation of Briceño looking straight into the camera singing “La Gran Curva.”

Onda Temporal, Episodio Cinco: Ulises Zarazua

The fifth episode of Onda Temporal presents us with another virtually unknown artist, one whose only reference (at least to us) is his association to the roster of Vale Vergas Discos, which recently announced it would be re-launching as Estados Unidos de America Latina. Arriving right at the middle of the series, Guerrero Negro and Carlos Matsuo shot what’s the most obscure number of the project so far. Or what the what the color palette and time of shooting would make you believe. While all the previous episodes carried a somber element to them, seeing Ulises Zarazua tune his guitar as he walks by a man that’s digging through trash, underlines the series’ thematic alignment between artists and the common pedestrians. A lovely little wink at the sixth second makes us remember the previous episode featuring Los Nuevos Maevans. As he parks on a corner to bleed his heart out, it’s quite moving to see the lights of cars and a scattered companionship of life passing by, even when the sun has yet to manifest its presence.

Onda Temporal, Episodio Cuatro: Los Nuevos Maevans

Whenever I’ve had to practice my film scholar studies to advice very resourceful projects, I often encourage them to shoot at super markets. Because really, when working with a tight budget, that’s all the art direction you need. Who knew the little store at the corner of your neighborhood would also do the job? On the fourth episode of Onda Temporal, we witness hardcore punk band Los Nuevos Maevans march into a miscelanea and turn the tight space into a sprawling arena for one very assaultive and memorable number. Using one of the members as keyboard legs and featuring a mysteriously small sound technician are only a few of the well executed gimmicks by a band that’s known as a performance act –so much that they practice playback on their gigs. When they’re done detonating the noise of “Antorcha Campesina,” they walk out civilized. The woman at the counter watches with some amuse (hard not to find it hysterical), but she’s not terrorized by it –she’s probably seen much, much worse.

Onda Temporal, Episodio Tres: Sanidad Mental

The third episode of Onda Temporal (following the first numbers featuring Capullo and Alberto Acinas) showcases the conception of Sanidad Mental, a new act by two of the most exciting rising music makers around. New-blooded and full of urban urgency, Josué Josué and Siete Catorce first showed they made a terrific team in the single “Linus” (from Josué Josué's debut EP) where they showed introspection of lyrical and musical forms, and even flirted with reggaeton. As framed by this project by Guerrero Negro, Sanidad Mental (performing "Demencia" and "Morras") bolds up the visceral and suburban-decaying discourse. Rejecting to shoot in pretty, or rather digestible places, director Carlos Matsuo elevated and wired-up his guests on the roof of a neighborhood in Tijuana, registering forgotten construction developments, pointy wired fences, and even a dog cage. These are powerful (if circumstantial) images that serve as symbolism for the struggle of the common pedestrian (including the artists) against their thorny surroundings.

Onda Temporal, Episodio Dos: Alberto Acinas

The second episode of Onda Temporal scopes the oddball mind of Spaniard songwriter, Alberto Acinas. Certainly one of the most eccentric and divisive acts from Vale Vergas Discos, he’s been slowly percolating fans into his own little cult. Which is why this performance of Acinas performing at a cemetery, inside a chapel dedicated to Juan Soldado (a folk saint with an ever-growing cult) sustains the concepts of devotion, cult, and the riveting of the flesh into a very rewarding whole. Surrounded by grateful plaques of the miracles accredited to Juan Soldado, Acinas rumbles his chords with bold conviction. His voice however, registers a sense of tragedy (for both, the rejected embrace Acinas sings about in the song, and for the alleged false accusations of rape and murder for which Juan Soldado was executed). Director Carlos Matsuo surveys the humble temple with respect (offering no vignettes), but with enough curiosity to capture some devotees as they wait in line for their turn to light up a few candles and worship the saint with flowers.

Onda Temporal, Episodio Uno: CAPULLO

Onda Temporal, Episodio Uno: Capullo

We start the unveiling of Onda Temporal, a 12-episode web series by Guerrero Negro featuring live performances from some of our favorite artists, with none other than our favorite pop group from Mexico: Capullo. As if there weren't enough reasons to love them, this clip makes Capullo more real, at least to those of us not lucky enough to have seen them live. They put the emoticons and virtual windows aside and allow director Carlos Matsuo into their personal space. Shot on a roof that seems to just have been showered by the sky, Capullo performs their rendition of Juan Gabriel and Rocio Durcal’s “Dejame Vivir” (with a second part featuring another cover of Los Ganglios). With all due respect to the gentlemen of Capullo, singers Cri Cornejo and Sandunga Mil really steal the show. When the ladies choose to walk away from the guys, they create the space to show their strong bond. Watch the rest of the Onda Temporal web series here at Club Fonograma during the next two weeks.

Onda Temporal: Demo

We are beyond thrilled to present Onda Temporal, a series of live performances shot by the sharp and poignant scope of Carlos Matsuo through documentary production company, Guerrero Negro. This isn’t the first time Club Fonograma is approached with the proposal of presenting Vicent Moon-inspired clips, but this is the first time we’re genuinely moved by the power of celluloid to capture/provoke raw and unnerving faculty from the performers. In the search for attaining artistic freedom. Perhaps half of the merit itself belongs to the curation of the series, which includes house favorites such as Ases Falsos, Capullo, and Matilda Manzana, and is sure to present us with future obsessions. Watch the series unfold its 12 episodes here at Club Fonograma in the next two weeks.

Los intercambios de electrones entre las neuronas y las sinapsis dentro del cerebro están sometidos a la imprevisibilidad cuántica; sin embargo, el gran número de neuronas hace que el comportamiento humano esté tan rigurosamente determinado como cualquier otro sistema natural. No obstante, en ciertas circunstancias extremadamente raras una nueva onda de coherencia surge y se propaga dentro del cerebro; aparece un comportamiento nuevo, de forma temporal o definitiva, regido por un sistema completamente distinto de osciladores armónicos; entonces podemos observar lo que hemos dado en llamar acto libre.

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