Latin | Brazil Vinyl 530 Items

The Coastal Invasion’ highlights the golden age of big band cumbia and the maestro who is often seen as Colombia’s most influential composer, Lucho Bermudez. This compilation contains a selection of the music of Lucho Bermúdez y su Orquesta recorded during the years that they lived and worked in Medellín, probably the best work the orchestra ever recorded.

Los Fulanos, Barcelona's champions of Latin Soul, are back on wax!
Miguelito Superstar, co-producer along with Manuel Dabove of their celebrated debut album, "Si esto se acaba, que siga el boogaloo", has crafted two electrifying versions that are pure fire. 'Why Don't We Do Some Boogaloo?', already a local classic, is paired with a take on New Order's legendary 'Blue Monday', which is transformed into a nearly unrecognizable Latin Funk powerhouse.
Both tracks receive special treatment, Miguelito has unearthed some key breaks from the original sessions and pushed the rhythm section front and center, making this 7" a must-have for you know who.
Latin Soul para que baile la gente!

El Palmas Music to reissue incredibly hard-to-find album by Venezuelan salsa bandleader and polymath.

Few artists worked as hard at their craft as Ramón Urbina. At the age of 15, and in thrall to the Latin jazz and tropical music he was hearing on the radio, he learnt to play tres guitar. Then he learnt bass. Then percussion, tumbadora, timpani drums, trumpet, trombone, piano, whatever instrument he could get his hands on. A true enthusiast and student of all the tropical music that was percolating through Venezuela and the rest of Latin America at the time, he wanted to understand the art of composition and arranging, and around 1972 he decided to put it to the test, forming his first group, Ramón y su Banda Latina. Taking inspiration from salsa ensembles like Sexteto Juventud, as well as Pastor López, a Venezuelan singer and bandleader who was having huge successes in Colombia for his mix of cumbias, guarachas and boleros, Ramón’s group toured throughout Venezuela during the 1970s. Then one day, he went to see La Dimensión Latina in his home town of Charallave, and he saw the future. The age of salsa with its multi-trombone sound was here, and he wanted to take part, recruiting new members to form Moncho y su Banda. After road testing their material, the new group was ready to record an album in 1981, but finding a record label was not easy. Ramón loved music but he was a homebody too and spent most of his time in Charallave, at a distance from the thriving music scene in Caracas. This, combined with the fact that he’d yet to record an album and create any kind of international reputation meant that he initially struggled to find a label. “God help me, even if I have to pay myself, I’m going to record my album”, he said at the time. Despite no guarantee of any album being released, Moncho y su Banda stepped into a recording studio and didn’t rest until they’d got what they wanted. Those who were there remember a feeling of being at a party, hanging out with family and friends, and dancing all night. After realising they’d forgotten to eat at a session, one of the group’s singers, Eduardo Fernandez, ordered a bottle of sambuca, and just like that they kept on recording, without pause, albeit with extra spirit. Once record label executives finally heard the album, titled Qué Bellas Son (How Beautiful They Are), they couldn’t resist its energy and a release date was set. It’s an album that captures the sound of a working band at ease, playing the kind of set that they would be knocking out at clubs around Venezuela at the time, full of life and passion. Whereas a formulaic salsa sound was forming in the early 80s, Moncho y su Banda bucked the trend, playing a mix of raw, unbridled salsa dura, as well as cumbias, merengues, boleros and chucu-chucus, all with a heady dose of Caribbean spirit that sets the group apart from the more urbane salsa ensembles of the day. Qué Bellas Son is the only album that Ramón Urbina ever recorded, though he has kept performing to this day, where you can still find him in Charallave. A true lover of music, we should be thankful that we have at least this one album of his to remind us of a band at the height of their powers.

Grupo Casabe can lay claim to being Ray Pérez’s last great group. Fresh from the successes of Los Dementes and Los Kenya, Pérez was at the forefront of salsa in the mid-70s, and still experimenting with música bailable and all the danceable hornblazing styles that were beginning to be known collectively as salsa. The finest tracks of this short-lived combo, active from 1974 until 1975, are now being celebrated by El Palmas Music on a new compilation simply titled Ray Pérez y El Grupo Casabe. Pérez was bandleader for an astonishing number of groups, which was partly due to his in-demand status, with each move to a new label meaning he needed a new band name. Such was the case with Ray Pérez y El Grupo Casabe, formed when CBS came calling. Their line-up built on his previous groups, with both a drum kit and percussion for additional power, with Pérez himself belting out those trusty piano montuños, however there was one significant change, with Pérez using saxophones for the first time, alongside his usual brass section of trumpets and trombones. With him for the ride were vocalists including Rodrigo Perdomo (brother of “El Negrito Calavén”, from Pérez’s earlier group, Los Calvos) and Rafael Morillo. The compilation begins with “María Antonia”, the first 7” Grupo Casabe released in 1974. Instantly, it’s clear why Pérez is so loved in salsa circles, for this is salsa of the highest order, the focus switching between piano, vocals and brass effortlessly, while the drums restlessly inject the song with energy; then there’s the breakdown, Rodrigo Perdomo stretching his vocals to a rasp and throwing the brass into an extended passage; suddenly, they stop and Ray, El Loco as he was affectionately known, lets loose with a piano solo that’s elegant in its efficiency, before the band return for one more trip round the salsateca. 1974 and 1975 were important years in the trajectory of salsa. It was this period when salsa became a collective name for urban orchestras playing Latin music styles like son, guaganco, mambo, cha-cha-cha and rumba. Though undoubtedly salsa – Ray was a “rey de salseros” after all – there is so much nuance in the music. “Campesino Nuestro” is a slow-building rural son, taking the Cuban countryside to the dancefloor; “Santa” and “Oye Nena” are twisting guaguancos, the former possessing one of Perdomo’s finest vocal performances, and the latter the finest showcase for the band, with percussion, brass and piano on fire. “La Reina”, a danzón, show that the band can do the slow numbers too, and then there’s “Sábado En La Tarde”, Perez’s take on surf with a melody seemingly taken from the finest Steve McQueen crime caper. There are few that come close to Ray Pérez for musical inventiveness and a sheer ability to keep dance floors moving. If Ray had been born and raised in New York then no doubt he’d be regarded as one of salsa’s pioneers. He’s had to work harder for his reputation, but there can be no doubt, he deserves to be one of the greats, and his work with Grupo Casabe is even more proof.