Latin America’s rising presence in the global electronic scene has rerouted the way dancefloors operate. Hovering around a hip-swaying 100BPM and boosting the key rhythmic elements that makes people move, such drum-driven music preserves the human touch despite its computer-generated origins. Mixpak Records’ newest signee Florentino (aka Yeshe Beesley) typifies this careful cross-section. The artist’s appetite for club-savvy productions reflects his base in Manchester, England (a northern city well-reputed for its rollicking DIY nightlife), but the influence of his Colombian heritage sculpts his sound into visceral dimensions. Consider Florentino’s sophomore release “Bloodline” on his hometown label Swing Ting. Led by blaring sirens the reggaeton march swaggers under martial percussion, glass shatters, and quivering vocal distortions. The sonic bricolage commands your attention, but, more importantly, conveys a singular diasporic sound.
Florentino has always worn the title of “El más romántico de los románticos” over his chest and his heart on his sleeve. His penchant for roses all over his album covers and lip-smacking kissing samples recall the “she loves me, she loves me not” flower game played by a smitten daydreamer. Where his previous work simulated the dopamine rush of fresh infatuation, his newest EP Fragmentos evokes the introspective comedown as he tears off the last “she loves me not” petal. The opening track “Nadie Se Muere De Amor” (No one dies of love) is beatless; the heart clearly needs resuscitating. Here, trickles of water and portly synths accent a plaintive melody line, but the fervent Florentino—the one responsible for those spirited, foot-stomping earworms—sneaks in on the follow up “Por Ti” with Catalan dancehall artist Bad Gyal. “Y entre los dos volamos/Como lo haces tu, te lo juro,” (You touch me/And between the two we fly/As you do, I swear to you”) she sings. Her glossy Auto-Tuned vocals, skipping over stripped kick snares and hi-hats, are a sweet reminder of the promises once made.
On Fragmentos, Florentino leaves behind the maximalism found in his previous work. The showman has traded his literal bells and whistles, and all those hurried snare lines, for a more streamlined approach. Gone are those aggressive sound collages, replaced with a renewed focus on vocal snippets and body percussion rhythms. If heartache is so distinctly human, what better way to convey the whirlwind than to sample each clap, kiss, gasp, fingersnap, and exclamation during the recovery process? Where most club-functional productions remain coldly cybernetic, Florentino manages to unravel the entire swathe of involuntary emotions with unusual panache, creating an altogether cathartic dancefloor experience.
“2 Late (Don’t Call Me)” opens with our protagonist drunk-dialing his ex, played by the Spanish reggaetoneras Ms. Nina. The song is the heartbreak counterpart to Cassie’s come-hither croon “Me & You,” icy synthesizers and all. “Ya me he ido y ya es demasiado tarde/Te di otra opportunidad, y no la supiste valorar” (“I’ve already gone and it's too late/I gave you another opportunity and you didn’t know how to value it”) she whispers in hushed tones. The voicemail greeting, “Hi,” becomes spliced and incessant throughout the strain. You can feel Florentino disparaging himself for his lack of willpower. Bitter laughter punctuates the production, both anguished and obsessive, as the phone continues to ring.
Fragmentos aligns with the passions of lovers scorned rather than with withdrawn despondency. Take “Mentirosa,” the album’s climactic track. Florentino borrows the quick elastic snaps of volume riddim typically found in Flex Dance Music (FDM) to sustain dramatic intensity at a slower BPM. Outraged accusations of “Mentirosa” (liar) rattle the composition until the maelstrom finally passes with a tinny flourish. In the final chapter, “Seductora” reminds us that heartbreak isn’t all about brooding, but the debauched flings and freedom that come with it. Grunts and cheers interspersed among flute trills, metallic triangles, and infectious airhorns signal a long-awaited rebound. With a wet kissing noise slapped dead-center in the dembow beat, Florentino is back on his bullshit. Just as there are plenty of fishes in the sea; more roses will bloom from their stems, waiting to be plucked. If Fragmentos resulted from only one thorn prick, Florentino has us anticipating another.
