If music reviewers had to be certifiably
impartial judges in order to air their opinions in these not-so-hallowed nets
and webs of intrigue, then I’d have to recuse myself, because I like these guys
unabashedly, have for a while as a matter of fact, ever since seeing them live
in LA at a free gig in McArthur Park for the homies a few years ago. First of all, you gotta respect any band that’ll
go to those lengths to get in front of an audience. Secondly, it’s appropriate considering that
both the band and patrons were predominantly Hispanic, even though most of the
audience probably never heard of them. That’s
the price you pay to be a star in Texas;
you may not be a star anywhere else.
After all they were Robert Rodriquez’s “own band” Chingon back in
the latter days of the “mariachi trilogy” and had a major presence in the final
soundtrack and even the film itself.
Last time I checked their tour schedule a couple years ago, they still
had a significant number of private parties to play. That’s all changing.
What these guys do with nylon strings is what
I like to do with my wife when coming home after a couple months in dusty
lonely godforsaken countries that I have to visit just to prove to myself that
they’re really there. That’s the
business of Rick and Mark del Castillo, acclaimed guitarists in the hollow body
style. What they do is a bit hard to
describe, maybe something like classical Spanish speed-guitar. Put the two of them together and it’s
something to behold. This guitar
virtuosity is slathered with the icing of Alex Ruiz’s dramatic voice and muy
macho personality. They’re the
cerebral European jazz musicians, solving equations with fine fret-work; he’s
the bad-ass Mexican, in your face and up your spine with chilling renditions of
romantic endeavor. Most of the creative
interplay of the band occurs right there, with a solid bass and percussion
laying down rhythm.
Their new album is called Infinitas
Rapsodias and contains a mix of new songs and old standards, and even
includes a DVD. For you initiates, the songs
themselves hold no great surprises, mostly revisiting themes that have already
been explored by Santana, Gypsy Kings, Los Lobos, or Los Lonelies. It’s the musicianship that sells it, good
hearty stuff that ranges from rock en Espanol to flamenco to Latin jazz,
all with those distinctive guitars and that high-drama vocal, evoking the
classic themes of life and love, romance and dance, heart and soul. Still there are mysteries to be revealed
internally. The album begins with “Lumbres
de Babylon (‘Lights of Babylon’),” classic Del Castillo with those great
guitars, dramatic and romantic, “vamos caminando por las carreteras de la
Corazon…baila conmigo (‘let’s go walking along the highways of the
heart…dance with me’).” “Fuego
Egipico (‘Egypian Fire’)” follows up with a more pronounced Arab feel,
guitars supplying the drama in a song purely instrumental.
At this point I realize something for maybe
the first time. I don’t know if any
Spanish-language song genre—be it flamenco, salsa, whatever—has ever paid
tribute to what I consider to be its significant Arab roots. Even with flamenco, usually attributed to
Spanish gitanos (gypsies), they don’t fit the description of Europe’s other groups of Romani. It does come from Andalusia, though, the
Moorish stronghold in Spain. And of course, the Spanish history in the New
World starts the same year that Arab history in Spain ends, so the culture was
still mixed when it got exported. And
it’s still there today, especially in Mexico, in the machismo, in
the leather work, in the horsemanship, in the adobe, and in the music, of
course. Where do you think those guitars—and
horses—came from?
“Mujer Angel” is slower, with some
sweet electric guitar, a pleasant break from the usual frenetic pace the boys
set, still equally romantic, “Yo por ti muriera…mujer angel (‘I’d die
for you…lady angel’),” likewise “Canta de Alma—mira las estrellas,
mira al cielo mira la luna que es la luna de mi pasion (‘Song of the Soul—look
at the stars, look at the heavens, look at the moon that’s the moon of my
passion’).” “Brotherhood” is the only
song in English, a duet with female vocals, and it’s a good one, “Oh there goes
my brother, oh there goes my sister…whoa there is my mother…amen to the father.”
The rest of the album finds Del Castillo
working largely in their comfort zone, with some pleasant change-ups in “Para mi Sobrina,” a mellow instrumental,
and “Maria,” sung in Italian. “Perdoname
(‘Pardon me’)” has some nice piano and violin, and some painful slow revelations
and supplications: “lagrimas cayeron como
cae la lluvia … perdoname suplico…no me abandones, perdoname (‘tears
fall like rain…forgive me, I beg you…don’t abandon me, forgive me’).” They finish things off with a flourish in high
drama, Amor Venme a Buscar, a duet with German opera diva Anna Maria
Kaufmann. How’s that for a finish? No, music reviewers don’t have to be impartial
and objective. Sometimes we just know
what we like, too. That’s Infinitas
Rapsodias by Del Castillo. Check it
out. They’re on a world tour, also. That’s even better.
