Ju
an
aM
oli
na
m o r f s d n u o s : Pop to bottom can underground ri the Latin Ame
Do
to wn
wn
Boy
s
an atin Americ L f o ld r o w p the vibrant w does dee o e t r e a r C o y m n t o h There’s a lo avana. Ant obsession. H t s d e n t a la o ’s it c y a r esp centu pop than D on the 21st A rc a
W
ith Despacito officially enshrined as the Biggest Song of 2017 — by way of streams, sales, and its billions of YouTube plays — and Camila Cabello’s Havana an early contender for the Biggest Song of 2018 (so far), the new year has found all manner of magazines, websites, and content-generation algorithms proclaiming Latin Pop as a Hot New Th ing. These lists invariably are filled with pre-fab pop that the music-biz thinks they can get on commercial radio; but they also completely ignore the vibrant Spanish-language underground that has already been flourishing in the 21st century. Plenty of album of the year lists at 2017’s end included Arca’s surreal self-titled set, in which the Venezuelan producer, inspired by his collaborations with Bjork, authored shape-shifting productions at once operatic, hallucinatory, vulnerable. Almost as acclaimed was Juana Molina’s astonishing album Halo, where the singular Argentine artist continued her obsession with unorthodox rhythms and slippery sonics. And Lido Pimienta’s brilliant 2016 LP, La Papessa, won Canada’s prestigious (and actually credible) Polaris Prize in September, beating albums by Feist, Leonard Cohen, and Badbadnotgood; Pimienta using the acceptance speech opportunity to rail against racism and outsiderdom as a Colombian immigrant raised in Canada. A favourite 2017 LP of mine was by Spanish future-pop producer BFlecha, whose second record, Kwalia, found her fashioning sparkling songs, and collaborating with hyper-pop trailblazer El Guincho and Delorean’s Igor Escudero.
Delorean themselves put out an album at the end of the year, though it found the Barcelona-based quartet moving away from their sleek synth-pop, getting in touch with their roots by covering a host of songs by Basque legend Mikel Laboa. Santiago trio MKRNI issued a riff on El Guincho’s futurist ideals with their ultra-glossy, blindingly gleaming Hiperrealidad album; as well as guesting on Isla Disco, the fourth album for the duo Los Walters, whose Caribbean-synth-pop sound echoes the fact their members are split between San Juan and Miami. And while El Guincho didn’t issue any new jams (or viral video clips) in 2017, for local audiences he did one better: bringing his live band to Australia for a series of shows that, duly, turned into wild dance parties. Another killer local tour came from political-punk co-op Downtown Boys, whose brassblasting bilingual racket is steeped in both X-Ray Spex and on-the-ground activism. Their music (as on their recent third LP Cost Of Living) is a stirring example of second-generation Latinxs examining their place in American society; something echoed in recent records by Helado Negro, Buscabulla, and Maria Usbeck, a trio of NYCbased electro-ish acts who’ve intersected with Blood Orange and Caroline Polachek. Usbeck’s sweet debut solo LP, 2016’s Amparo, was released on the great Cascine label, which also recently unearthed the debut EP for NOIA, a Catalonian bedroom-act of sweet voice and odd production choices, whose choice jam Nostalgia Del Futuro is reminiscent of the early works of Empress Of. EVHA are a crew from Ecuador — Quitoscene peers of percussion-thumping dancefloor-filler Nicola Cruz and Amazonian-R&B
THE MUSIC
•
smooth-talker Mateo Kingman — whose music mixes electronic rhythms with Andean folk motifs (their name stands for El Viejo Hombre de los Andes). Colombian crew El Leopardo fuse almost Basic Channel-esque dub techno with cumbia rhythms and Amazonian percussion. Meridian Brothers, veritable Colombian legends, have spent seven albums fashioning their joyous jams, which fuse baroque-pop with the anarchic whimsy of tropicalia. Another Colombian outfit, Ondatropica, draw from the rhythms of the Caribbean ‘buccaneer’ past, the big-band beginning years ago as a collaboration with wandering English producer Quantic. In 2017, Quantic staged a stirring hook-up with Afro-Colombian singer Nidia Gongora on the great Curao LP, an artful attempt at juggling tradition with futurism, its dancefloor-friendly jams full of traditional percussion, trilling woodwinds, highlife guitars, and layers of Gongora’s gorgeous voice. For those who like their music more raucous, there’s Costa Rican garage-toughs Ava Negra, hard-partying Puerto Rican AJ Davila, Spanish fuzz-pop partners-in-crime Hinds and Los Nastys, and the appropriately named Chilean janglers Las Olas (Noispop). One of 2017’s most slept-on albums came from Spanish post-punks Tumefactum, whose glowering, doom-etched, shadowy sound is reminiscent of cult ‘00s outfit Lovelife. Another overlooked gem was the debut LP, Abducida Por Formar Una Pareja, by brothersister Barcelona duo Tronco, whose rattling twee-pop owes an obvious debt to the Moldy Peaches. Mexican one-man band Un Verano En Portugal’s recently pressed debut EP, La Magia Que Nunca Existio, also comes rich in those sweet
38
•
MUSIC
twee vibes; his Soundcloud claiming he hails from “Anorak City”. Dream-pop combo Trementina found plenty of love last year for their 810 LP, which, despite its English vocals, summons shimmering shoegaze vistas to evoke the wilds of Southern Chile. The iconic 21st-century staples of the fertile Chilean indie-pop scene remain productive, and outstanding. Synth-pop strutter Alex Anwandter delivered not only his latest LP, Amiga, in 2016 but also his debut feature film, You’ll Never Be Alone; each works of bold, unabashed queerness. His old collaborateur Gepe issued his sixth LP, Ciencia Exacta, last year, taking a folkier turn as he did. And the eternal queen of that Santiago set, Javiera Mena, will finally release her loooongawaited fourth LP in 2018. While an overdue Javiera Mena crossover in 2018 would be delightful, it’s doubtful, at this point, that she’s likely to find new fame. Those who could find for-real crossover, though, include Chile’s Tomasa del Real, whose hyperglossy, hyper-sexualised reggaeton is rich in chaotic internet aesthetic. Dominican trio MULA — born out of the indie sister act Las Acevedo — took a level-up step with their recent second record, Aguas, its blend of sweet synth-pop with cumbia and reggaeton rhythms sounding like an album begging for a bigger audience. And Colombian ‘psychedelic cumbia’ party-starters Bomba Estereo evidently have, with their back-to-back banger-filled LPs Amanecer and Ayo, found a bigger audience; or, at least, a more famous one. They began 2017 collaborating with Will Smith(!) and ended it by hooking up with Arcade Fire, suggesting that their crossover moment is now.