Latin | Brazil Vinyl 516 Items

Rumba, Flamenco, Soul, Funk, Jazz, Disco, House,.

Sixth record by the Achilifunk Sound System "Super Soul Gitano". Txarly Brown, invents accidental Rumba Jazz Dance. Using as the starting point a collaboration with Jonatan Ximenis, the singer from Arrels de Gràcia, old soul, funk and jazz classics are revisited from the rumba point of view. From Bill Withers to Gino Paoli, everything is thrown on the beater. There are also some original compositions on B side.

The Achilifunk Sound System gives us their best record yet. Lalo López, Jack Chakataga and Txarly Brown have recreated all these classics, with the occasional help from Mr.Freak Ska and Voodoocuts.

El Palmas Music are back with a third instalment of rare Venezuelan sounds from the 60s and 70s, a wild trip through salsa, boogaloo, garage rock, jazz and delinquent pop. Venezuelan music was moving at such a pace through the 60s and 70s that almost as soon as a new craze was born, another was preparing to eclipse it. In barely 10 years, musicians latched on to the sound of the Latin big bands of Cuba, New York and Colombia, turned to the 60s pop and rock ‘n’ roll of England and the US, before heading back to salsa as it took root across Latin American, before forays into jazz, psych rock and Afro-Venezuelan rhythms took hold in the 70s. This fertile musical period, coming at a time when Venezuela was economically abundant and culturally as relevant as any other developed country, has always been the focus of the Color de Trópico series, and continues to be the case on this third instalment, though it should also be noted that the tracks are getting rarer and rarer, indicative of the curatorship of DJ El Palmas and El Drágon Criollo and their constant search for new sounds that reflect Venezuela’s musical treasures at this time. Color de Trópico Vol. 3 starts with Un, Dos, Tres Y ... Fuera’s “Aquella Noche”, a song that’s fully indicative of Venezuela’s coastline with the much-loved Un, Dos, Tres Y ... Fuera giving a llanero rhythm (normally played on a harp and other stringed instruments in its rural incarnation) a fully Afro-Caribbean makeover with pulsating bass and an electric keyboard that teases and energises the groove. It possesses some of that same mid-70s vitality and need to experiment as Grupo Vaquedanus, the band of sax maestro Santiago Baquedano, and their cover of Dave Brubeck’s “Take Five”, here fashioned as “Toma Cinco”. This version strips away all the niceties of the original, turning it in to a psych-fuzz jazz romp with Baquedano’s raspy sax leading the way. Step back 10 years and the energy remains even if the musical terrain was different. Girl group Los Pájaros hit hard with a boogaloo whose instruction is simple enough: “shake it baby, kiss for you, take the rhythm, and do the boogaloo”. Los Pájaros were one of a number of groups who were taking inspiration from the 60s sounds of the US and Britain but repackaging it for Venezuelan youth. Pop stars Geminis 5 were at it too with a fuzzy ballad “Tus 16 Años”, and Junior Squad even injected a bit of San Francisco hippy charm into affairs with their loose adaptation of The Turtles “She’d Rather Be With Me”, retitled as “Siempre Para Ti” and sounding as rough, ready and full of youthful vim as anything made north of Mexico. On the farthest end of the pop spectrum is The Pets with their cult hit “El Entierro de un hombre rico que murió de hambre” (“The Burial of a Rich Man Who Died of Starvation”), a true countercultural anthem that even dips into “The Funeral March” for a minute, and which is much desired by record collectors. Finally, we must mention the salsa ensembles and their big band predecessors, always an important element of any Color de Trópico compilation. On Volume 3, we find one of the earliest salsa groups in Venezuela, Los Megatones De Lucho, who recorded a pachanga, “Yo Se Que Tu”, long before salsa was even a thing. Influenced by Venezuela’s very own Los Dementes and Joe Cuba’s sextet, Principe Y Su Sexteto were one of Venezuela’s most prominent salsa ensembles. On their 1969 track “San De Manique” we get a different vibe altogether, it’s a creeping son with just vocals, bass and congas for its opening minute, before really kicking into action with a twisted guitar line and wild percussion, while always retaining a raw, Afro-Latin feel. Last, but not least by any means, is one of Venezuela’s most beloved salseros, Johnny Sede, who pipes up with a classic salsa, “Guararé”, showing how the style had developed in just a few short years. You could accuse El Palmas and El Dragón Criollo, the curators of this collection, as getting some sort of a sick thrill at throwing such a weird and unwieldy bunch of tracks together, and that may be true, but there is logic too. These are songs full of life and creativity that signalled an era of boundless optimism. Listen to them now, and you’ll find yourself feeling those emotions once again.

Far from the twin epicenters of New York and Miami, Carlos Ruiz and his Ebirac label were both feeling and generating the aftershocks of the mid-'70s salsa boom. Holed up in their own bustling Puerto Rican community center on Chicago's west side, these third coast salseros plied their trade outside the hot lights, cutting their teeth in city parks, VFW halls, and Holiday Inn rec rooms. Nearly 50 records survive in the wake of orquestas La Justicia, La Solucion, and Tipica Leal '79, the most impassioned, singular moments of which are compiled here.

We are true to the principles of the first "¡Naino!". Flamenco rumba fusion which in the hands of intrepid producers becomes Catalan Rumba under the influence of sounds coming from Cuba and Puerto Rico in the early 1960s, Rumba Pop under the umbrella of the British Invasion and American pop of the late 1960s, and Disco Rumba with the arrival funk and disco from the USA in the mid-1970s. Everything happens thanks to a flourishing record industry located mainly in Barcelona with labels such as Belter, Discophon or Vergara. After the death of the fascist, sanguinary dictator Paquito Franco in November 1975, the international record industry establishes in Madrid through major labels CBS, RCA, and a new fusion led by producer Jose Luis de Carlos and labeled as Gipsy Rock, Caño Roto or, in the Flamenco field, especially in couplets, Flamenco Pop. As Oriol Farràs pointed in the previous volume, rumba moved from tablaos to discotheques, understanding the concept of discotheque at that time with a slightly different meaning and less conditioned style-wise. The selection on offer here complements volume one. Starting with an A side packed with floor fillers, with Peret's "Chavi" as the top example of gypsy funk fusion under production of Josep María Bardagí and Josep "Rabbit Rumba" Cunill, and four examples of the answer to that sound as produced by Jose Luis de Carlos, showing the four cardinal points of this fusion success: Las Grecas, Los Chorbos, El Luis and Chango. De Carlos transforms the sound of Madrid's flamenco artists spicing it with soul, rock, glam, dub, funk, disco and gospel. These five opening tunes alone could feed a whole scholar course on the possibilities of rumba fusion and its incredible dance potential. Back to the record. There are not only examples of Afro-American flavored fusions. Progressive rock and Anglo-American psychedelia of the seventies are also influences represented here. They started a path that would later be known as "rock progresivo andalúz" (Andalusian progressive rock) with a crowded band scene and a hardcore hash impregnated following. But before reaching that point, here are some early efforts on side B. Synth-fueled rumba with Canterbury sound inspired electric guitars. A sound that, as it happened with rumba funk and flamenco pop, also had its moment of glory with the arrival of bands and solo artists such as Triana, Gualberto, Smash, Storm or Medina Azahara, or even the more blues-rock oriented Pata Negra.

Flamenco Pop. Just like any other label, it is born out of the need to define in two words a series of songs that share a same stimulus. The term was coined in the late sixties on the eponymous record released by Alfonso Santisteban (Madrid, 1943 - Málaga, 2013) & Rafael Ferro "Flamenco Pop" (Sintonía, 1969 / Música para un Guateque Sideral, 2018), an easy listening wonder with a bossa nova edge that takes flamenco elements and melodies to recreate sophisticated instrumental atmospheres. Santisteban had previously produced recordings for Bambino, Lola Flores, La Polaca or Chacho, and was a renowned soundtracks composer. His pop flamenco shows were more an environmental sound that a pop one, but the label "pop" used as a diminutive for "popular" sets a pace for imagination. Santisteban, Adolfo Waitzman (Argentina, 1930 - Madrid, 1998) and Augusto Algueró (Barcelona, 1934 - Torremolinos, 2011) were the triumvirate of arrangers / conductors / producers who defined the genre and took it to the charts of the era. Waitzman, who married stylish singer Encarnita Polo in 1969, took her wife to the top of the charts with the single "Paco, Paco" (rca, 1969) first, and with the LP "Encarnita Polo y Olé" (rca, 1971) two years later–an LP on which he mixed his love for The Beatles' "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" with popular couplets (or "coplas" as we call them in Spain defining a whole genre) written by Quintero-León-Quiroga, Sevilla's very own answer to Holland-Dozier-Holland at that time. He had previously produced some beat and prog-rock outfits like Canarios, Pop-Tops or the legendary UK ex-pat band The End. Last but not least, Algueró, who married the explosive Carmen Sevilla in 1961, who had already attempted to mold his wife's flamenco talent on the "Flamenca Ye-Yé" 45 (Philips, 1965), was also a key character in the era thanks to his many soundtracks, among them the iconic "Tuset Street" (Philips, 1968).

The selection of this compilation has a bit of everything. A pack of exuberant "copla" singers presented as a folkloric mod squad: Carmen Sevilla, Encarnita Polo, Rosa Morena, Dolores Abril, Carmen Flores (Lola Flores' sister), Dolores Vargas "La Terremoto" and La Polaca. To name this line-up back in the seventies in front of a Spanish "macho" was an instant activation of his lust.

Pointing out this idea today is possibly a crime of female objectification. On prosecution we'll have Manolo Escobar, Juanito Valderrama, El Principe Gitano, El Noy, Moncho, Richart and Los Nevada. If someone had told me these names a few years ago I would have bet they all came from a typical sixties Spanish film by Mariano Ozores, but do this: drop the needle, close your eyes, hear their stories – no matter if you know the artist or not – and try to fit it in its time (the 1970s, Franco's Spain, grey colors, austerity), but above all do listen to the music. We should refund your money if at any point you think "wtf?". And if your imagination can't go that far, just look for the clips on the films mentioned below.

“We are inspired by our own experiences, as well as those of others. The last year was the beginning of a new era for all of us and it has left us with much to analyze and the need to rethink our priorities. There’s been so many changes on this planet: the confinement, the constant looking back at the past, the struggle of many against endless injustices, love, all this leads to the fact that our new songs have very current themes but that also transcend time. They continue the characteristic sound of Acid Coco, with the undeniable influence of the Caribbean.” Acid Coco If we can define folklore as the passing on of traditions from a particular group of people, then there can be no denying that Acid Coco, whether consciously or not, are playing an important role in disseminating the folk culture of Colombia’s Caribbean coast. Throughout their music there are links to tradition: the gaita flute typical of rural cumbia, the effervescent guitar licks that are such a big part of the coast’s Afro-diasporic sounds, the teeth-rattling bass indicative of communities brought up on picó sound systems since the 70s, the unmistakable sound of the marimba wooden xylophone (each note like a rain drop on the jungle canopy), and then there are the lyrics. Tradition should not stand still, and in Andrea’s words we find the oral traditions of the last 30 years: on “Hoy Como Siempre” she sings of the need for women to stick up for themselves, to not fall in love too easily; on “Cara Dura” the sentiment is even stronger, its lyrics picking out a male predator on the dance floor who will not be tolerated; and then there’s “Mundo de Mentira” where vulnerability peaks through, the story of a woman whose life has become a “world of lies” since their lover has left – who can she believe now the one she trusted the most has gone? They are stories that could have spilled out of Cali’s salsatecas, Cartagena’s picós or any club the world over, yet through Paulo’s canny production there is no doubt where we are. Dembow, cumbia, reggaeton, even on the spiky Caribbean folk of final track “Por Las Venas” or chiptune melody of “Aquí y Allá”, there is nowhere we can be other than on Colombia’s Caribbean coast. It’s music that comes from lived experiences, from growing up in Colombia’s clubs and through its violence and daily realities. Culture is being passed forward.

Olindo Records is proud to present the 7th full length release in its expanding catalogue by Venezuelan singer, songwriter and multi-instrumentalist Isaac Sasson. The intimately titled, ‘Canciones de Isaac’, summons the sounds of the wind, birds, crickets, fallen leaves and the atmosphere of both Caracas by night, and daytime walks through the meadows of the Pyrenees, to create a parallel universe between his home country of Venezuela, and his current place of residence in Barcelona, Spain. Throughout the LP, Isaac’s gentle voice is accompanied by the traditional bandola llanera, charango and cuatro; various percussion and wind instruments; and carefully arranged strings. The 13 songs on the album develop a narrative built around personal stories that touch upon human emotions, family ties and friendships, to craft a collection of sonic postcards that evoke memories, places, travels and moments spent with loved ones during the musician’s journey between two continents. Lead single “La canción de mi abuelo” is an ode to Isaac’s two grandparents, but also to other elders that have greatly influenced Sasson’s life, such as the poet Francisco Massiani and sound archivist Oswaldo Lares. The rhythm is a merengue caraqueño, accompanied by cuatro, acoustic guitar and charango, all played by Isaac, and violin by frequent collaborator María Betania Hernandez. “Manyanet” is a sonic postcard dedicated to the small town of the same name in the Catalan Pyrenees, which inspired Isaac through its landscapes and sounds. It was one of the first songs on the LP to be written and recorded in Barcelona, Spain following the composer's move from Venezuela, and contains a mixture of field recordings captured during his visit, juxtaposed with the sounds of Caracas during a rainy afternoon. Recorded between Caracas and Barcelona the results carry hues of the Venezuelan Caribbean, with hints of the Mediterranean. Mastered and cut by Frank Merritt at The Carvery, the music is beautifully complemented by illustrations from Andreína Vallés, with additional design by Brunella Giannangeli. ‘Canciones de Isaac’ follows Isaac Sasson’s ‘Cantos Campesinos’ EP on Olindo, which included a remix by Hector Plimmer, and was featured on BBC 6 Music with Gideon Coe, The Vinyl Factory, Worldwide FM, Stamp The Wax, and NTS with Patrick Forge, Zakia Sewell and Mafalda.

"Hope and liberation reign free on an album overflowing with Caribbean cumbia flavours.

On his debut album as El Drágon Crillo, Colombian producer, musician and singer Paulo Olarte Toro finds a meeting place between bouncing Caribbean cadences and dance floor- ready beats that threaten to propel your body into motion.

Pase Lo Que Pase (translating as Whatever Happens, Happens) is one of those albums that threatens to take you some place new, in this case to the Colombian Caribbean some time around the 80s or 90s, when analog synths, punchy drum machines and Afro- Caribbean guitar melodies ruled the roost. The fact it was this era when Olarte Toro was growing up in Colombia should not go unnoticed. Now based in Geneva, Switzerland, it’s like he’s dialing back the years to a more innocent musical time, re-imagining what it was like for those early pioneers of reggaeton (long before it became so commercial) and for the musicians on Colombia’s Caribbean coast augmenting their tropical vinyl sets with rough-and-ready samples and lo-fi drum sounds.

Within this sonic milieu, there is joy at every corner, from the moment opening track “La Número Uno” sets off on its stripped-back champeta rhythm. In its swirling guitar lines, programmed beat (slowed down to cumbia pace) and unrushed vocals it’s impossible not to lose track of time. Scratchy samples that mimic a dog’s bark and a beatific synth that enters the fray late on only add to the summery shimmer. Further twisted guitar lines are to be found on following track “La Brisa”, which was influenced by US West Coast 90s rock a la Jane’s Addiction (spot the reference if you can), while “Líbrame de Todo Mal” finds an unlikely union between reggae, a disarmingly-anthemic 80s synth line and stinging guitar, with the odd klaxon letting you know this is a party you’re at. It’s a fiesta at which you’re never far from cumbia, as on the mesmerizing “Cumbia Fantasia”, but also throughout the album, where cumbia’s rhythm, instrumentation and traditions are continually hinted at. If musically there is much playfulness and a hint of nostalgia, albeit thrust up-to-date thanks to Olarte Toro’s production (lest it be known he has been making electronic music for nigh on 20 years), lyrically there is a heavy heart at play. The title track is a perfect example, as Olarte Toro states:

“’Pase lo que pase’ talks about the situation that Latin America is experiencing at the moment. It’s a situation that, even though it is old, has become more important and has gained much more awareness on the part of the people. It talks about how the new generations are afraid of a situation that is no longer bearable, that people want a change and that they no longer care at what price, they no longer care if the price they have to pay is their life.”

While despairing at the continued inability of Colombia, and Latin America as a whole, to find peace, equality and a sense that the fight is there to be won, Olarte Toro is also hopeful. “Hoy No Moriré”, with a Brazilian influence in its percussion and guitar, is the story of someone who faces social injustice every day and has grown increasingly tired of the struggle, yet in its chorus, “Hoy No Moriré” (“Today, I Will Not Die”) it also shows their resistance and hope for a better time. “Ojos de Bosque”, a duet which likewise has a sprinkle of Brazilian bombast and is unafraid to get close to ‘pop’ terrain, was written when the first pandemic hit. It’s dedicated to Olarte Toro’s daughters, telling of the sadness that came with uncertainty and confinement, but likewise it’s optimistic, looking for inspiration in daily life and showing that you should never lose the desire to continue.

With his arsenal of guitar, bass, analog synths (chiefly Roland Juno-106 and JX-3P), samplers and percussion, not to mention his guiding voice, Olarte Toro has created an album that could only have been made by him, by a Colombian who grew up with Latin rock, reggaeton, cumbia, champeta, etc., and who moved to Europe to become a noted name in underground dance music circles. Since switching to making music wholeheartedly with a Latin tinge a few years ago he has not held back, releasing albums as a member of Acid Coco and Contento, with one from Jaguar to come.

Now, with his first solo album as El Drágon Criollo, we find him at his most playful, joyous and paradoxically realist, summoning a mesmeric sound that represents the Colombian Caribbean’s past, present and future."

Those two über-hip expatriate Colombian ‘salsapunks’ are back. Contento’s first album, Lo Bueno Está Aquí, was an artistic and critical success: chosen, for example, by the UK’s discerning national newspaper, The Guardian, as their global album of the month in November last year. Their follow-up, En Lancha Pal Futuro, builds seamlessly on its predecessor. Yet it could not have been recorded in more different, and difficult, circumstances.

The duo’s debut was laid down between 2016 and 2019, a period when the two European-based Colombians, who met at an Eddie Palmieri concert in Berlin, were able to take some serious time off from their diverse individual projects to explore a new vision for salsa. Paulo, a member of Acid Coco, Jaguar and El Dragón Criollo; and Sano, a DJ and producer known for his minimalist Latin house releases for the Cómeme label, crystallized on their debut what Paulo describes as “a new salsa sound that may also make [listeners] want to discover some of the older sounds, too.” That sound is a kind of ‘retro-smart’ combination of Nuyorican boogaloo from the ‘60s and cumbia from the golden age of Discos Fuentes. Contento’s contemporary electronic twist suggests, if you like, a kind of post-modern variation on Dave ‘Baby’ Cortez’s “Happy Hook With an Organ”.

The album that you now enjoy has been compiled by El Palmas & El Drágon Criollo an begins with the theme that every afternoon, starting at 6 O´clock, all the youth of Caracas waited anxiously: “Introduction Theme” by Los Supersónicos was the wake-up call to introduce the charge of surfing that that later it would explode in El Club Musical.

And from the same group, another of their greatest hits is included, such as “Rosas Rojas para una Dama Triste”.

The Dangers were in charge of entertaining many youth parties in Venezuelan society. Their great success was “Congratulations”, an obscure Ricky Nelson song, of which they made an excellent cover. And to demonstrate the great influence of the British group The Shadows - present in all the youth bands of the time - here they shine with their recreation of the song “González” The Blonders were by far the possessors of the purest and most crystalline sound among the surf groups in Venezuela. A bold and highly imaginative arrangement of the classic “Lamento Borincano” is enough to justify its inclusion in this compilation.

And although The Impala came to have the most aggressive and rock-and-roll sound, here they show another facet of their music with the songs “Triste” and “Desafinado”.