If you ever get a chance to party with Los Inquietos Del Norte, take it. If Los Hombres is any indication, these hombres know how to have a good time. Rough-and-tumble accordions, profuse swearing and odes to just generally being badass mix with conjuntos so rip-roaring you can practically see the dust rising off the dancefloor -- and then there's the Meza brothers' raw, ferocious vocals. It's enough to make a señorita swoon. And that's before these tough guys start crooning sweet, sappy stuff like "Con Ganas de Vivir" or campfire country like "Miles y Miles" and "Mala Inversión."
Kany Garcia has made her name with pitch-perfect mainstream pop albums that never quite agree to be mainstream pop albums. So her third album is stuffed with thickly sung ballads, sunny acoustic pop and gently quirky cuts that detour from the beaten track. She sings the hell out of the first two groups (see the contemplative "Pasaporte" or the dubby "Me Quedo"). But she sounds most at home on the more surprising side of things, like when she tries her hand at various country styles, works in some flamenco ("Estigma De Amor") or joins the circus, as on the delightful single "Que Te Vaya Mal."
Another day, another neo-cumbia Quantic one-off. But a deeper listen reveals that this cumbia revamp has a lot more going on. Created by Colombian artist Mario Galeano and Quantic, Ondatropica assembles a group of legends and upstarts who expand upon classic Colombian sounds and rhythms. The result? A swirling, fascinating party of an album that finds common ground between psych-punk and son, ska and champeta, saxophonist Michi Sarmiento and beat-boxer El Chongo. "Libya" even throws in a little Middle Eastern style. "Curro Fuentes" sounds like global chaos -- in the best way.
Could there be a more spot-on (if slightly obvious) name for a narcocorrido outfit? We doubt it -- and Revolver Cannabis takes its job as seriously as its name. A good narco unit knows that, badassery aside, its most important job is to spin a good yarn. Seremos Eternos ripples with narrative and nuance, from its evocative titles ("Claves y Comandantes"! "Mujer de Doble Cara"! "Enamorada de Tu Blackberry"!) to the winding, lovingly sung stories they weave over a cadre of triple meters. Maybe it's the name clouding our judgment, but we swear there's an affable stoner vibe to the whole thing.
Camilo Lara's fourth album makes his project's politics explicit, but wow, does it still sound like an uber-hip party, complete with chic beats and kitschy-cool samples (check out the 007-ready "Más!"). Blip-fests like "Ceci N'est Pas Une Automate" are easy to get lost in, but "Es-Toy" shows the tribal punks how the OGs of alt-electronico do. "México"'s slippery, soused horns get kinda beer-teary, but ay, does that nostalgia go down salty-sweet. And "Revolucíon!" is like a sassy, brassy fiesta in the streets, dancing down the line between protest march and parade.
Let reggaeton's boys have their crossover dreams and pack their albums with hip-hop guest stars. Ivy Queen will be here, keeping the swagger alive. On her eighth album, la reina reps "Real G4 Life," swinging hard and heavy in her trademark low, fierce flow. But while she grounds Musa in a thick classicism, Ivy has never been afraid of experimentation, so pop hooks, bits of cumbia and a lot of bachata abound. See booming single "Peligro de Extincion," which seems pretty unlikely, especially when the Queen starts talking about Juliets taking over for Romeos if the boys can't handle it.
That heavily stylized image on El Potro's Sin Fronteras is no joke. After all, this is an artist who has often tried on -- and pulled off -- various style experiments. Here, he puts on his crooner hat, covering beloved songs drawn from across the spectrum but gussied up in rich regional Mexican. And like a good crooner, El Potro has the pipes and the charisma to make each one his own. So "Bachata Rosa," which Juan Luis Guerra coated in sweet romanticism, becomes salty and earthy. And "Yo No Se Mañana" retains some of Luis Enrique's sentimentalism, but cuts it with a weary mournfulness.
This is Alexis y Fido's first greatest hits comp, and Los Pitbulls, who were in the game long before their 2005 debut produced some pretty foundational reggaeton cuts, have certainly earned it. Though it's short on early hits (no "Eso Ehh...!!"? Seriously?!), Piden Perreo still does its job showcasing the duo's ability to churn out hits and to conquer every style their genre has thrown at them, from old-school braggadocio to mainstream-friendly hip-hop to Auto-Tuned club pop. So if it's a little disappointing as an Alexis y Fido best-of, it's a solid archive of reggaeton swagger. Revel in it.
Like any corrido singer worth his sal, Roberto Tapia makes narrative songs that also sound like stories. Every track on El Muchacho (ay, what a title!) rolls with the flow of a narrative: Tubas and accordions merrily push the action along as Tapia's sometimes salty, sometimes surly, always almost sweet tenor animatedly spits out thrilling plot twists like he's spinning yarns around a campfire. But these tall tales also make you feel like dancing. Check out the rollicking gallop of "La Carta Fuerte" or "El Mini Lic," a topsy-turvy dance with the accordion.
Kinky apparently spent the three years between 2009's Barracuda and the aptly titled Sueño immersing themselves in a sexy, shimmering dream world. And you can follow it like a dream, rolling along tracks that almost seamlessly ebb and flow through glistening electro-pop currents. Or you can focus on the individual moods each one carefully crafts: the Middle-Eastern-hued, hip-hop-cut diamond of "Negro Día" (with a fierce cameo from Mala Rodríguez); the heart-pumping drums of "Alma de Neón"; the retro synth-pop of "Intoxicame"; the ferocious funk of "Control." Either way, you won't want to wake up.
El JJ rocks the narco thug act like nobody's business, slurring soused vocals across lyrics punctuated by swear words and tough talk and songs riddled with sloppy horns, chugging accordions and the occasional gunshot. The album isn't called "when the sh*t hits the fan" for nothing! But don't let El JJ's sloshed sauntering fool you into thinking he isn't a serious musician. This mover and shaker in the musica Sierreña scene carefully crafts every cut, every snarl, every drunken swagger, from the formidable title track to the rip-roaring "Las Pasiones."
Tribal guarachero is such a new genre that, on the one hand, there's room for plenty of artists but, on the other, they're going to have to work to prove themselves both distinctive and worthy of fans' attention. This Chicago-based tribal outfit sets itself apart a few ways. First, it plays with the borders of its genre, working and reworking bits of booty rap ("Menealo") and country-fried accordion, hip-hop (the echoing "Rikyboom") and thumping club cuts in tribal's shuffling fashion. Second? Some serious comedy, a la the LOL-worthy "Chuck Norris."
The best "Best ofs" not only cull a band's greatest hits but also showcase the breadth of their career. Well, count Maná's sprawling hits parade among the best of the best. Spanning the Mexican rock fixture's 20+-year career, Exiliados covers just about all your faves, from early hits like "Cuando los Ángeles Lloran" to 2011's "Lluvia al Corazón." But Maná's mejor also demonstrates what's kept them in the game so long: their deft touch with just about any style, from sensitive acoustic jams to chunky rockers to even a cover of Juan Gabriel's "Hasta Que Te Conoci" (one of two new tracks here).
Doble-U y Yandel may have just managed to pull off the dream of every would-be reggaeton king with the aptly titled Lideres. The crossover-leaning cuts here are many and infectious, designed to get you shaking it whether the duo has J.Lo or Chris Brown in tow. But here's the thing: They do it without sacrificing a bit of their natural swagger. Bangers like "Prende" work the dembow like they own it. But W&Y roll strong riddims into even their poppiest cuts (the reggaeton-ified dubstep of "Una Benedición") and their innovative beats into everything (see the slippery synths of "No Te Detengas").
If Pitbull ever needed a long-lost DJ brother from Spain, we nominate Juan Magan. Like his fellow buzzed-headed crossover king, Magan laces the dancefloor-obsessed pop of his first studio full-length with a bit of hip-hop and a whole lot of the rolling, kuduro-meets-cumbia grooves the kids are crazy for. But also like Pit, Magan is a heatseeker willing to try on any style that gets him moving. His experiments with bachata ("Me Enamore") and reggaeton ("Pegate Mas") show how well he wears almost any hat. Big, booming club beats weave it all together into a near-seamless dance mix.
Hey, Noel Torres, your swaggering debut made you a major norteño badass. So what are you going to do next? We wouldn't have guessed the answer would be "release a collection of classic, sentimentally sung, abuela-friendly corridos." But beyond surprising us (and making his mom happy), this album shows off Torres' chops as an accordionist and a singer capable of nailing the plaintive style of these romantic songs. (He can also sell a good, old-fashioned polka. Check out "El Cisne.") The album title isn't just a reference to history, it's about staking a claim over any style or era he touches.
