Odds & Ends 139

Plus: Ten, count-'em, ten Ray Pérez albums!

WoochieWobbler: Is My Future Bright? EP

Sing-rapper/rap-singer/OnlyFanser whose vocals caress wooshing and wobbling synths and annoying phone keypad bleeps, and whose lyrics are hard to make out except when they’re about sex: “eat my pussy/it taste like lollipop”, though how would she know (“No Fear”, “Madder”, “Soul Twin”)

Ballister: Smash and Grab

You will not be surprised that my favorite track is the one called “Smash”—which starts with Dave Rempis at his most aggressive and Paul Nilssen-Love fulfilling the title on every piece of his drum kit, then fills out the runtime with harsh Rempis overtones and Fred Lonberg-Holm getting out his home electronics kit—and you also will not be surprised that the subsequent “Even More Smashing” and “Grab” are more of the same (“Smash”, “Even More Smashing”)

Kahil El’Zabar’s Ethnic Heritage Ensemble: Open Me, a Higher Consciousness of Sound and Spirit

One transcendent cover, with El’Zabar’s light percussion maintaining structure and Corey Wilkes’s trumpet and Alex Harding’s baritone drilling deeper into Miles’s melodic core than anyone since Trane; of the rest, only an enfunkening of “He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands” fails to spiritually uplift (“All Blues”, “Kari”, “Barundi”)

Kali Uchis: Orquídeas

Pace A Downloader’s Diary, she’s better in mostly Spanish, thanks not least to collaborators across Latin genres from reggaeton to slightly different reggaeton who drag the music into concreteness once in a while, plus if there’s astrology this time I missed it (“Muñekita”, “Pensamientos Intrusivos”, “Heladito”)

Sleater-Kinney: Little Rope

Put it this way: they’ve handled being Formerly the World’s Greatest Rock and Roll Band better than anyone else, unless you really liked the Drive-By Truckers (“Small Finds”, “Say It Like You Mean It”, “Untidy Creature”)

Mary Halvorson: Cloudward

Your usual good Halvorson album: nothing unexpected apart from maybe getting Laurie Anderson to play violin on “Incardine”, just good tunes played well—though with due respect to her usual sextet, I mostly want to hear the boss shred, which she at least does a couple of times (“Desiderata”, “Ultramarine”)

James Brandon Lewis Quartet: Transfiguration

Your usual good JBL album: nothing unexpected from him apart from maybe the ambitious-but-don’t-let-the-title-put-you-off “Triptych”, just an hour of excellent playing from all parties—though with due respect to Ortiz, Jones, and Taylor, I mostly want to hear the boss blow through his tricks at length, which he at least does a couple of times (“Trinity of Creative Self”, “Élan Vital”)

Buck 65/Doseone/Jel: North American Adonis

After Terfry’s great comeback trilogy, a normal good alt-rap album: Jel’s quarter-century old floppy disks are unearthed, Doseone gets to show off the voices he nearly got on to Adult Swim, and dozens of us will wonder why we never before noticed that Myrna Loy rhymes with Burna Boy (“Not Weird”, “Alive in a Landfill”)

Four Tet: Three

Pretty, which is not all I want out of him, but when combined with “not soporific” isn’t to be sneezed at in 2024 electrochill (“Loved”, “Daydream Repeat”)

Julia Vari feat. Martini’s Trio: Somos

Post-Holiday vocal jazz is a hell of a lot more natural in Spanish (and Portuguese), but a pretty tolerable “Nature Boy” shows it’s not solely the language: Miamian Vari combines a willingness to crowd-please with some actual taste that makes it easy to see why she's succeeded in concert halls and cruise ships across Latin America (“La Bikina”, “Song for My Father”)

Mdou Moctar: Funeral for Justice

A band now, with top notch virtuosity that’s not limited to the leader (that drummer’s hot stuff) but which gets a bit wearying at album length: I’ve no doubt their disdain for French colonialism is justified, it’s just hard to find anything in the endless riffery that correlates with it (“Funeral for Justice”, “Modern Slaves”)

Ten Ray Pérez albums

Venezuelan pianist and bandleader Ray Pérez was one the key figures in the popularization in his country of what became known as salsa. (Without getting into nomenclature wars, “salsa” was used as a genre label by Venezuelans in the ’60s before being adopted across the Americas; whatever the name, it’s all Afro-Cuban.) Pérez’s groups recorded dozens of albums from 1967 to 1983, with occasional comebacks after that; most were long out of print until a reissue program by Vampisoul among other labels over the last three years (which Pérez is still around to see the fruits of) brought them back into circulation. I chose ten records that seemed promising to focus on; not all are classic (the ones that are have been bolded), but together I think they make the case for Pérez making some of the best Latin music of his time. Most discographical information comes from Gherson Maldonado’s blog; his pages on Pérez have been deleted but are findable on Internet Archive.

Pérez’s first major group was Los Dementes. From this distance, it’s hard to hear how their 1967 debut album, ¡Alerta mundo! llegan: The Crazy Men was loco enough to send Caracas into an uproar. They play at pace and the heavy trombone was novel for the time, but it’s a bit off-rough rather than pleasant-rough. Manicomio a locha from later the same year is much more evidently krayzee, and not just because the opening song is set in an asylum. The group is tighter, singer Perucho Torcat wilder, and the genre combo in “Guajira en Boogaloo” shows the beginning of the ensalsafication of Latin music.

In addition to two more Los Dementes albums that year, Pérez formed a second band (with some overlap in membership) to take his sound further out. Los Calvos were a studio group with Carlos “El Negrito Calavén” Yanez, a more forceful vocalist than Torcat, as singer. On Estos son Los Calvos (also 1967), trumpets form the brass section, while trap drummer Frank “El Pavo” Hernandez brings some rock edge to the rhythms. Rounding out one of the most productive years in Latin music history was the better still … y que Calvos. with El Pavo given more room to cook and the percussionists able to keep up with him. Calavén sings in Martian on “El Marciano”; Carlín Rodríguez contributes sweeter but no less energetic leads as well.

Brilliant at balancing sound, Pérez was reportedly less reliable when it came to aspects of bandleading like showing up on time, and during one of his visit to the U.S. the other Dementes pulled off a coup. In response, Pérez formed yet another group, Los Kenya, which hewed closer to the prevailing sound in New York. Their 1968 self-titled album (reissued as Siempre Afro-Latino) is led by trumpets and has Alberto Naranjo’s drum kit giving propulsion. There’s some excellent solo work by Pérez and, on “Santa Elena”, sky-high notes from Dominican trumpeter Luis “El Güí” Arias. A fugue at the end shows off Pérez’s arrangement chops. The 1969 album labeled as Ra!.. Rai!.. on most services—though that second word must have either an “i” or an exclamation point, not both—is a somewhat strange attempt at a mainstream album, featuring Black singer Larry Francia, given an English name by Pérez to make him sound more Caribbean. People with a history of complaining about horn tuttis might not like this one, and probably everyone will find at least one song annoys them (“Come Back” in my case) but oddities like the almost ska-like singalong “Linda Canción” have their fascinations.

Perucho Torcat was also kicked out of Los Dementes, and Pérez reunited with him for two of his best albums. Perucho y el Loco Ray (1970) has trombone and trumpets and a little space-age keyboard on the cumbia. Torcat and Pérez sing together on several songs and combine well, especially on “Ay Mama”, though Ray’s solo singing is less convincing. They Do It (1971) is even better, albeit lighter on Pérez compositions than most of his albums. Torcat does his best work here, yelping agreeably on “Echatelo Al Hombro”, and whoever’s bass voice joins in on the chorus is almost as fun. On the verge of international stardom, on a cold Boston night in 1972, Torcat reportedly slept in a running car and died of carbon monoxide poisoning.

Setting aside various Dementes reunions, Pérez’s last major band was Grupo Casabe. Ray Pérez y el grupo Casabe (1974) which has plenty of back to basics percussion, leads off with “María Antonia”, soon to be a megahit for Gualberto Ibarreto. Elsewhere there are strong Brazilian influences, plus they break into the theme from Jesus Christ Superstar at some point. Record company dictates forced Pérez to use saxophones on Bailables (1975). You can tell his heart isn’t really in this one, though the trumpet work is strong and Rafael Morillo has some solid vocals. In any case, by that point his status as a salsa great had been established beyond doubt.