CD Review: Very Be Careful – Escape Room

Los Angeles band Very Be Careful have built a well-deserved reputation as sort of the Gogol Bordello of Colombian music, both for their delirious, hypnotic live shows and the snotty yet absolutely authentic attitude of their albums. No disrespect to Carlos Vives, but Very Be Careful take vallenato back to its roots in the north, to back when, just like roots reggae, it was the party music of the drug underworld – it doesn’t sound anything like him. Which makes sense: Very Be Careful’s slinky cumbia pulse has a lot in common with late 60s Jamaican rocksteady, the otherworldly swirl of the accordion is nothing if not psychedelic and so is the eerie insectile scrape of the guacharaca, the beat of the caja vallenata and clatter of the cowbell. Although if you asked this band for more cowbell, you’d probably get one upside the head – they bring a menacing, hallucinatory party vibe a lot like the Pogues back in the day when Shane MacGowan was drinking at peak capacity but still lucid. That considered, their new album Escape Room works equally well for the drinkers, dancers and stoners in the crowd. It’s all originals along with three rustic, boisterous covers, with the same resilient-bordering-on-aggressive feel of their 2009 live album, the deliciously titled Horrible Club.

The opening track, La Furgoneta (The Van) is a cumbia, its catchy descending progression carried by Ricardo Guzman’s accordion as his brother Arturo swings low with broken chords on the bass, way behind the beat in a style similar to great reggae bassists like Family Man Barrett. It segues into a hypnotic, two-chord number, La Abeja (The Bee), followed by the fast, bouncy, wickedly catchy La Alergia (Allergies), accordion playing major on minor, vividly evoking a horror-movie summer haze.

The first of the covers by legendary vallenato composer Calixto Ochoa, Playas Marinas (Sandy Beaches) is a party song, a staggering series of flourishes as the bass runs a catchy octave riff over and over. The other, Manantial del Alma (Springtime of the Soul) makes a sly attempt at seduction, the guy just wanting the girl to let him play for her. Another oldschool number, by Abel Antonio Villa, evokes a guy’s heartbreak, vocals on the verse trading off with accordion on the chorus – although it’s a party song without any real heartbroken vibe, at least musically.

The rest of the album is originals, and they’re great. El Hospital sounds like something the Clash might have done on Sandinista, wry and cynical. La Broma (The Joke) has the accordion playing minor on major this time, to equally ominous effect. The metaphorically charged La Gata Perdida (Lost Cat) has the poor critter going round in circles: “I think this killed me.” They end it with the upbeat La Sorpresa (Surprise) and then the aptly titled, psychedelic El Viajero del Tiempo (Time Traveler), bass playing three on four beneath insistent, trance-inducing minor-key accordion. You don’t have to speak Spanish to enjoy this, although you won’t get the clever, often snide, pun-laden lyrics. But as dance music, it doesn’t get any better than this – it’s out now on Barbes Records. Another reviewer had problems with this cd, calling it unsubtle and complaining about being blasted by the accordion, to which the only conceivable response is, who wouldn’t want to be blasted by an accordion? Very Be Careful play Highline Ballroom on May 23 – also keep an eye out for their annual Brooklyn 4th of July rooftop party (they got their start here, playing in the subway).

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CD Review: Chango Spasiuk – Pynandi: los Descalzos

Last year it was chicha music from Peru, this year it’s chamame, hill country music from the north of Argentina that’s the latest style to be plundered from El Sur. As with Chicha Libre, Argentinian accordionist Chango Spasiuk, the guy doing the plundering here adds his own individual, intelligent touch to the style. Blending violin, guitar and sparse percussion in the background along with his squeezebox, the cd (whose title is regional slang for “country bumpkin”) is a mostly upbeat, rousingly rustic mix of originals offering an inspired update on a style little-known outside its own turf. Spasiuk is best-known as an intense live performer, projecting himself here as a strong yet tasteful ensemble player, letting the violin or the guitar carry most of the melody. 

 

The cd kicks off with a happy, upbeat dance, Terra Colorada and then the darkly beautiful, atmospheric tango-inflected El Camino, in 12/8 time, ending with spooky, distant violin washes against starkly incisive acoustic guitar. Spasiuk’s Suite Noreste is a sprightly theme and variations featuring a big violin cadenza. Track five, Senor O, with sparse, mournful accordion and then sparse, pensive guitar segues into a beautiful, sad waltz appropriately titled Tristeza. From there on it’s back to the happy stuff with Infancia (Childhood), violin playfully gliding in the background behind Spasiuk’s warm, predictably nostalgic chordal work.

 

The clouds return with another pretty waltz, Viejo Caballo Alazan, a vocal number, then the pace picks up again. The rest of the album alternates waltzes – Panambi (Mariposa), i.e. Butterfly being a highlight, building from a wrenchingly beautiful waltz with vocalese to a big crescendo and then back again – alongside simple, straight-up dance numbers. Spasiuk is a big star in Argentina, doing with this what Carlos Vives did with vallenato in Colombia. The style may not be well known yet, but this cd is accessible enough to gain a wide following with the gypsy music crowd or for that matter latin music fans in general. Be the first on your block to know what it is. Chango Spasiuk plays Zankel Hall at Carnegie Hall on Mar 27 at 7:30 PM.