Who releases an album of sunny, clubby, up-all-night anthems in November?! Mr. 305, that's who -- the guy who not only lives in Miami, but might just pull off his goal of taking Miami's heat and its year-round party worldwide. Nothing too weighty here, though Pit does get serious here and there -- about really rapping, for instance, on the title track and about things he cares about on almost-feminist pickup anthem "Drinks for You" and the almost-political "I'm Off That." Mostly, though, life's a beach in Pit's world, especially on the Latin-leaning tracks ("Tchu Tchu Tcha" really heats up).
At first, Bomba Estereo seem to take the difference between their album titles quite literally. The first half of their follow-up to the fierce Blow Up is indeed graceful, refined, elegant, with Li Saumet's cool vocals distanced by echoing, muted beats. Plenty of exciting bits peek out from behind the restraint (check "Bosque," which sounds like it was made in a chic rainforest). Still, you won't be sorry when they fire back up on the chaotic, cacophonous "Rocas" (those synth-gourd resonators!), or when they keep the flames licking during the rowdy, throbbing, hip-hop-hued second half.
It's been five years since Mexico's preeminent alt-rockers last rocked. But don't you worry for one second that that means Café Tacvba's any less rock-godly -- even if they did name their 2012 album "the object formerly known as." Recorded with live studio audiences in four countries, El Objeto gets off to an easy, shoegazing start before picking up the pace and taking off in their usual diverse directions around "Espuma," an airy slice of Afro-pop-flecked indie rock. Then comes the one-two punch of folkloric-kuduro-on-speed jam "Olita Del Altamar" and "Yo Busco," a hipster space oddity.
Deborah De Corral's debut is like the proverbial breath of fresh air -- almost literally. Everything on Nunca is light, bouncy, breezy, popping along to plinkety piano jams ("Te Espero") and winsome glockenspiels (the delightful "Algo"). And Deborah sings like she's walking on air, her resonant mezzo sweet but solid. She even makes charging surf guitars sound charming ("Todo el oro")! But don't mistake this airiness for lack of substance: Even the most adorable song (the tip-tapping, snap-crackle-popping "Kamikaze") is the kind of seriously crafted pop confection you wait a generation for.
Beto Cuevas attempts the mythical mid-career metamorphosis with Transformacion, which finds the La Ley singer going full-on dance-pop divo, complete with glistening synths, robo-vocals, cocktail-doused club beats and, um, Flo Rida. It'll be an adjustment for long-time fans, but the truth is, the alt-rocker makes a mighty fine pop star. From killer opener "No te olvides," Cuevas churns out cut after solid, dynamic dance-pop cut, many of them displaying innovative edges (see the squeaky beats and sexy whispers of "Latido"). Even the Flo Rida track is, while a bit more mundane, peppily pleasant.
Everything about this group is meant to shock. There's that name and the awesome album title, plus a lead single ("Noreste Caliente") that takes banda, rock, hip-hop and electronic and lights it all on fire. Then there's the band, which consists of "industry vets" in masks who won't reveal their identities (and may or may not be bitches). But their debut is much less mysterious, consisting of solid, party-happy electro takes on everything from mambo to post-punk to the Gaza strip (for real). Nothing as incendiary as that single, but it's all good, fun and, well, pretty normal electro-pop.
Larry Hernández is proof that one can be both a swaggering badass and a suave pop star. This is a guy who released not one, but two full albums (the other, Larryvolucion) in the same week, focusing this one on danceable and romanceable tunes, without ever losing an inch of edge. This is a guy who spits lyrics like bullets on a tune ("Kilitos de Más") that trips off on these cute little brokedown riffs at the end of the hook -- and then follows it up with the seductive vocals and sensuous horns of "Instinto Animal." But mostly, this is a narco singer who is not afraid of bachata ("A Escondidas").
El afán is one of those albums that just hits you, smack in the gut -- and the heart, and the brain. A gorgeous slice of indie pop, El afán dabbles in warm horns and crisp beats, thoughtful guitars and plucky cuatros, country and cumbia, post-punk and vintage exotica, with Ferreira's intimate vocals drawing you into each sonic experiment. "Bailando en las orillas" works a wind section like a less angsty Sufjan Stevens, while sleepy "La apuesta," with its world-weary vocals, breaks your heart and makes you think. Whatever you do, don't miss the richly layered "Me Pierdo Contigo."
Can you even imagine a world where Romeo Santos would need to defend his throne? Ripping through hits from his solo debut to a screaming crowd, the bachata king swaggers and sweet-talks so persuasively that when he asks, at the end of heart-string-plucker "Soberbio," "the ladies like that, huh?" you can't decide whether to respond with "duh" or more frantic screams. But he's also compelling when snarling out vengeance plots on "Malevo." His featherweight tenor proves its staying power in both the live setting and up against a series of high-profile guests (including Usher and Wisin y Yandel).
Larry Hernández is a man of many talents: In 2012 alone, he became a reality TV star (Larrymania), released two albums and showed off his considerable artistic range. His seduction skills are on display in Capaz de Todo, while Larryvolucion sticks to his trademark fierce corridos, displaying yet another talent: storyteller. Take the wild ride of "El Polimenso" or the snarling "Gente VIP." Then there's "Conexiones Culiacán," driven by frantic accordions, chaotic percussion and a chugging triple beat so evocative you feel like you're standing in the middle of the city.
Forget these kids today with their pop hooks and their hip-hop-friendly salsa. Gilberto Santa Rosa is gonna keep kicking it old-school. That means lots of rich singing, brilliant horns and easygoing dance tunes that'll get your hips twitching -- plus a couple of soft-lit slow dances. But don't think that means El Caballero de la Salsa is stuck in a rut. On the contrary, he experiments with funky riffs ("Quién Te Va A Querer"), trades motor-mouth lyrics with rapid-fire horns ("Cuando a Ti Te De La Gana") and delivers perhaps the best title for a salsa ever: "Como Hay Gente En La Calle." Yes.
What a perfect name for an album from this legendary family band beloved for their hyper-romantic, heavily dramatic love songs. Naturally, Mi Vida Sin Ti comes stuffed with swooping, shimmering tales of love -- and love lost -- served up with the kind of heart-yanking pop theatrics we've come to expect from Los Temerarios. Revel in the trembling tenors and soaring belts. Quiver before the stately mariachi pace of "Definitivamente Ya no Estoy Enamorado." Swoon to the synthed-up sentiment of "Dias Nublados." But whatever you do, do not miss "A Mi Manera," a cover of "My Way."
You've met Thalía, vivacious pop diva, but now meet Thalía, mid-career maven of pop -- with an album of stately ballads, maturely mid-tempo tropical numbers and duets with a host of very respectable (and grownup) guests to match. The result? Well ... vivacious. She gets all soft-focus and limpid-eyed with a trio of other mid-career stars ("Con Los Años Que Me Quedan"), she salsas con Gilberto Santa Rosa ("Dime Si Ahora") and even gets her brassy classic crooner on with Michael Bublé. This is a lady who was made for a sobbing, throbbing "Bésame Mucho," folks.
This Spanish band has always infused their rock with other sounds (rumba, flamenco, etc.), but this time around, they positively immerse themselves in bolero, so much so that Origenes feels like a trip back to a sultrier, much more dapper time. Just close your eyes, lose yourself in the muted trumpet and cheek-to-cheek groove of "Qué Será de Mi" and imagine yourself slow dancing with a mustachioed classic film star. Or trot off down a quirkier lane (think: one of Pedro Almodovar's little in-film fantasies) with the dark whispers, twisty harmonies and almost campy bass vocals of "Desengaño."
Think you don't like swollen, histrionic telenovelas of pop songs? Let Ricardo Montaner croon in your ear with that limpid, buttery tenor for a track or two, and he'll change your mind. This guy's been dominating the sweeping, soaring pop game for decades, and it shows. By that, we don't just mean that more than 15 albums in, his sound is a bit ... old-school. We also mean that he owns that style, singing adult-contemporary ballads, kicky piano jams and candlelit duets (the one with India Martinez is lovely) like they're Oscar-ready movie music. You won't be able to take your ears off him.
