If you’ve been paying attention as of late, The Distribution Tango has been doing some serious travellin’ as of late: Peru, Mexico, Cuba, and a homesick return to the streets of Dee-troit for some mellifluous soul singing by our man, Nathaniel Mayer.And we’ve learned some things along the way: 28 tracks of bugaloo is almost long enough to conceive and give birth to a child by, even under the Commie-thumb of Fidel you can still make some damn funky music, and a Mexican named Max can do justice to the sweet sounds of James Brown. Even with these burning bits of knowledge scorched in to our brain pans though, we are hungry for more. So, we’re leaving the cold (and mean) streets of Motor City, to venture once again in to our deep, deep vaults to unearth the buried for your listening pleasure.
What Is It?: Vampi Soul continue to un-earth unjustly earthed classics with this reissue of the rarest album from Aldemaro Romero (the Mexican Esquivel apparently) sung by Monna Bell, a Chilean star thanks to the 1959 Benidorm festival… This is possibly the finest example of Mexican “Onda Neuva”, a mix of Bossa Nova, Venezuelan Folk, Joropo and Modern Jazz, recorded and is both an amazing record and cultural document of 70′s Mexican music! From Vampi Soul.
Why You’re Going To Like It: Somewhere between a lounge-jazz album, 70s shoe-gaze, a Spanish Star Trek theme song, and a Peruvian yodeling contest – this shit is absolutely all over the place. When you think the album is skirting the edge of standard (i.e.; boring) Bossa Nova, Monna Bell starts hooting like an owl on mescaline, and your whole world shifts. Bizarre and beautiful in equal parts, this is truly something different.
A Fun Fact: The cover image for this album was actually what caused it to do so poorly. Aldemaro Romero thought it was a good idea to recreate the pictures of Mexican revolutionaries from the past, so he dressed up his band (and Monna Bell) in kitschy costumes, threw on a sepia-filter, snapped some shots, and made it the cover. What Romero thought was clever, the Mexican government thought was insulting to their heritage. The Ministry of the Interior stepped in, record promotions ceased, frightened radio stations refused to play it, and the album disappeared in to the night.
What We’re Givin’ You: One track, and one track only, can sonically explain what exactly you’re getting in to when you drop this bad boy (and girl) on the old record player – “La Negra”. The song begins with Monna Bell staccato-singing something that sounds like ‘dee-pee’ over and over again. Layers and layers of ‘dee-pee’ follow, horns build, Monna Bell sings incomprehensibly, and you just wait for the ending breakdown – it is fucking rad.