It seemed that with their last album, 2000's Arepa 3000: A Venezuelan Trip into Space, Los Amigos Invisibles had shot their load and were hobbling on the crutch of their own hype. The raunchy salsa-disco-funk-fusion they'd previously pioneered had gone flaccid, drooping under the weight of its own gratuitous hyphenation. Even the flowery influence of David Byrne's Luaka Bop label couldn't give Los Amigos the creative boost they needed. A band that was once an international phenomenon was in danger of being completely forgotten.
Then, something wonderful happened: lightning struck, planets aligned, genius intervened. Someone put a call in to production team Masters at Work. As the elder statesmen of the club-friendly blend of throbbing Latin rhythms and breezy electronic textures known as the Nuyorican sound, "Little" Louie Vega and Kenny "Dope" Gonzalez were the perfect choice to sculpt the band's post-millennial image. Whereas Arepa took a hesitant, flailing step towards dancefloor electronica, The Venezuelan Zinga Son, Vol. 1 dives gracefully into its swirling currents. The album's filtered percussion, insistent backbeat and silvery, synthesized sheen mark it as a mood enhancer that could've been borne out of the OM or Ubiquity Records incubator. This is the sleek, globe-spanning lovefest Los Amigos always had in them-- Masters at Work just peeled away the fluff.
There's no question that these six Venezuelan funboys have grown up, but they're still far from mature, which is ultimately a good thing. For instance, they again present an unabridged 70-minute marathon, but this time it's due to extended track length (another house-mix touch) rather than an excessive number of tracks. Also, their playful horndog tendencies have become humorous asides rather than a fratboyish focal point (the album's name loosely translates to "The Major Venezuelan Fuckfest"), a misstep in their older work that led to song titles like "Masturbation Session" and "El Disco Anal". Most importantly, though, the overall sound is much richer-- singer Julio Briceño's voice has been mellowed into the instrumental mix, an arrangement relying more on lush, multi-tracked layering than aggressive shredding.
Since their beginnings, Los Amigos have blended an array of dance-inspired influences, and Zinga Son emphasizes each while maintaining a well-balanced mix. There's Brazilian flourish in the batucada breakdown of "Playa Azul", comedic P-Funk crowd noise in "Majunche"'s bubbly funk, Willie Bobo-style boogaloo in the horn-accented "Calne", and a whole lotta Steely Dan-ish AM radio swish in "Diablo". But calling these songs out by name diminishes the album's convivial continuity-- like the best dance music collections it flows seamlessly. "Comodón Johnson" opens the record on a shy and atmospheric note, its birdsong and wind chimes building a summery, front porch vibe. Soon, a cover of Touchdown's 70s disco anthem "Ease Your Mind" delivers Hall & Oates-evoking synth and sax, and the festivities approach full-swing. This song specifically stands out for its silky production and corny, infectious vocals, and with its blissful, "golden age of disco" flush, could well become an international club hit.
Whether it's Los Amigos' newfound dynamic sensibility or the studio savvy of Masters at Work, there's an intuitive progression to the album that works like a little white pill and makes everything flow just like it should. By the time the dreamy, libidinous "Bruja" closes the album with its reverbed vocals and loose guitar massage, a warm corporeal pleasure has set in. This is the point when the aphrodisiac effects of the music take over and it becomes imperative to find a dark, private spot and the companion of your choice. From Caracas to Rio to Manhattan, Zinga Son is a musical tour of glittery discotheques, sunny beaches, and sweaty underground clubs that's surprisingly sophisticated and undeniably sensual.
