Cuatro Caminos: Press

"Mijo, que paso? I hate thees disco!!!"

Ever get the premonition that something strange is coming your way? Well, this is one wacky feeling that finally delivered the goods... straight to my CD player. It's not quite your run-of-the-mill rock, but there's something oddly engaging about Cuatro Caminos.


The Mexican relatives of Nick Cave and Jon Spencer (were they somehow spawned from the same family tree), this is a fantastically bizarre and unquestionably rockin' album. This is truly my cup of tea, as 'they' say, and while it may not be as accommodating for your average mainstream listener, indie-philes will take great pleasure in re-discovering the weirdness and whimsy that drives the inner self. Everyone? got their own level of weirdness to deal with, that part of yourself that you don't always readily express to your friends and neighbors because it could get you committed to some sort of 'institute' upstate (perhaps I'm revealing a bit too much of myself here, but what's done is done). Cuatro Caminos have managed to take that magically-bottled up side of themselves, and have transferred it to tape for the rest of us to discover ad enjoy. A fucked-up Disney ride to enjoy in the comfort of your own living room, if you will.


For all its shades of weirdness, however, this album is rooted in blending together the elements of funk, soul, and rock, all with a Latin twist. And who said the Latin invasion didn't bring something good for us to enjoy (even if it involves a bit of alien invasion as well)? The songwriting here not only entertains, but it sets in motion a great trip of storytelling and escape from reality that far exceeds what any movie or television show can provide. This one has everything, folks, a great sense of humor, vivid imagery, and crazy good instrumental turns. One of the best, and most innovative indie music records of the year, check this one out if you could use a lift from daily reality, if only for 12 songs.


Standout tracks: 'The Big Caboose Rub-A-Dub', 'Cabeza de Jamon', 'El Bong de Titaneo Theme'.

Cuatro Caminos is an outfit that would be totally written off as a joke if the band's music didn't kick such ass. How can you deny some Parliament Funkadelic 70's soul mixed with smooth Latin jazz with tinges of Hawaiian reggae, cowboy ballads, and whatever the hell else this wacky band can conjure up, all the while writing odes to women's large posteriors and other flavorful topics? This 11-track offering is a lighthearted romp through the silly side of some accomplished musicians who've seemed to leave the collective brain of the band at the door. While EL BONG DE TITANEO pokes fun at people and even at themselves, the music never wanes from being butt shakingly groovy, which may be all part of the band's rump fetish big picture after all. This release has got all of the junk in the trunk for feeling Cuatro Camino's funk, and the Southwestern seasoning melded with the Zappa-esque nuances puts it right over the top from being merely silly to being deliciously clever and a whole hell of a lot of fun.
www.stumprecords.com

You will love this record or hate it. If you hate it, give it another try in a different mood or in different company, because there are moods and companions out there that will make this record happen for you. It’s twisted, ridiculous and blatantly hedonistic, just the way music, which is supposed to distract us from unpleasantries and bring pleasure into our lives, should be.

Let’s begin with some excerpts from track one, The Big Caboose Rub-A-Dub,” a ska-ish club mix – “Boom, boom goes the big caboose (4x) … she got a big caboose … shakin’ … like a Richter scale ten … to the mighty, mighty sound / Of the giant, space age bong … and then some references to guacamole, Wiley Coyote and sex. Something for everyone. A no-lose situation. An introduction to the warped world and dense, multi-instrumental product of The Four Caminos(Cuatro Caminos), complete with spontaneous New Wave yelps sporadically helping or hampering the gravel throated lead singer of this trio.

Next, we meet a new neighbor who lives in a bus stop, “eating chocolate ice cream and pissin’ in a can … He’s the bus stop man.” Here in Wilmington, some believe that this man is an employee of the Convention and Visitors Bureau, paid to uphold the unique, memorable ambience of our downtown. We see so much of him. “What is he doing / Underneath that blanket / His pants are to his knees / And he’s squatting over a can / Oh my God …”

It’s a bizarre, sordid, creepy, irrational world, and we all know it exists. Some of us have even given the bus stop guy a dollar to block traffic with his Chuck Berry duck walk in the middle of Chestnut Street to block traffic while we parallel park, thus enjoying a fringe benefit of its existence, but we do our best to stay on the fringes. This band goes right to the Bizarro World’s center and capitol and takes control, which helps the rest of us sleep better at night, because, hey, at least the Bizarro World’s ruling triumvirate can play instruments, and music’s supposed to be related to mathematics, and mathematics is supposed to be a rational science, so there must be reason and logic there on some level, right?

And then there are Tex-Mex/ska/cool jazz-fusion club mixes, odes to the “UFO Saloon,” and some mysteries. Look for these guys. Buy this record. It’s a ticket to the roller coaster in some new kind of theme park.