Ruidosón emperor María y José, responsible of our most anticipated album of 2012, has a new project under the artistic name Tony Gallardo II. Through social networks, he openly expressed his adoration for two of the best records of last year, Rebeldes (Alex Anwandter) and Super Vato (Rebolledo), and warned that both were the primary inspiration for this side project. Under this context, “Líder Juvenil,” the first single from his upcoming, self-released EP Líder Juvenil as Tony Gallardo II, is definitely the culmination of his obsession with those two albums and a departure–but not a drastic one– from his trademark María y José sound. Packed with Rebolledo-esque refined techno nuanced with Christian Heyne-like disco strings production and Gallardo’s distinct vocals, the not exactly optimistic, yet funky and hilarious “Líder Juvenil” is another delicious slice of genius from the extensively creative mind of Tony Gallardo.
Super Vato, Rebolledo Cómeme, México Rating: 89 by Andrew Casillas
Somewhere out there is a room that’s darker than anything in Entertainment 720’s color palette, where aged whiskey and justifiably-priced champagne flow like lava. Where lights exist for the sole purpose of looking cool. A place where shiny shirts are banned in favor of comfortable, tucked-in button downs, and where nothing matters except how deliberately outmoded your hairstyle is. This is the coolest room in the world. And, right now, Super Vato is spinning on the P.A. in an endless loop.
The debut full-length from Xalapa, Mexico’s own Mauricio Rebolledo is a confident, irreverent, and fundamentally funky slice of new world techno. While other producers are equating “progression” with “throwing extra shit on top of my old shit,” Rebolledo, a former industrial designer, is finding reasons to fit disco, funk, synth-wave, rock and roll, and street festival cacophony into the same space. Rebolledo’s approach sacrifices the “globalism via multiplicity” that his mentor, Matías Aguayo, rode to success with 2009’s Ay Ay Ay, instead going for a thematic, more emotive approach. Think more “epic film score” than “battle of the bands.”
Not that Super Vato (which is, quite honestly, the most bad ass album title of the year) isn’t assertive. The album seemingly begins while it's already in progress with the woozy and buoyant “Canivalen.” Amidst its fat percussion, minimal keyboard notes, and boogie sound effects, the track doesn’t seem to go further than having Rebolledo coo about “Antonio’s dance party.” But as the track plays out over the course of five minutes, the beat builds and builds, the pitch of the bass and additional FX gliding in and out of consciousness until there’s no recourse but death. And it ends. So goes Super Vato at its best, where a seemingly endless sound gradually changes until its organic flip into mayhem and raw energy. Hear “Steady Gear Rod Maschine” transition from ice cold synth muzak to high tempo dance floor banger to a syncopated, almost-militant denouement in under six minutes and how “La Pena” blends horror film suspense with hypnotic proto-reggaetón, seemingly under cover of night. “Super Vatos” lifts the organ from Phantom of the Opera with disco beats. The reason? Because Rebolledo fucking can.
If there’s a flaw to Super Vato, it’s the lack of a breakout or out-of-this-world track. Nothing on the level of “A Paw in My Face” or “Love Cry” or “Hyph Mngo” or other recent tracks to escape the beatz ghetto. The closest that Super Vato gets to an ace go-to track is “Corvette Ninja,” which is indeed a highlight amongst highlights. But its “Miami Vice Theme-but-with-balls!” motif isn’t going to set the world on fire. Regardless, the only argument against this record is “why isn’t it more awesome?” Whether you’ve heard enough techno to get excited about Superpitcher cameos or how this stacks up with the Sepulcure LP, or just want something that sounds good out of your car stereo, there’s certainly nothing on the techno scene quite as funky or cool as Super Vato. And there’s very little out there that’s as good. In any genre.
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.
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.
