Queso Y Cojones sounds incredible, like it was recorded in some kind of seedy run down Tijuana recording studio from three blocks away through giant distorting amplifiers and onto someone’s answering machine, allowing plenty of the street sounds to seep into the mix. It’s amazing. The electric guitar is impossibly thin and the album buzzes shudders, and peaks in this overridden life affirming frenzy of Mexican rock and roll noise. There’s rain, cars revving, livestock braying, guns being shot, and all kind of seductive Spanish whispers. It’s the kind of authentic document that you want from your world music. It feels alive, real. Sure they had no money but you can smell the sweat, and it smells like refried beans.
Or at least it would if this trio weren’t faux Mexicans from Melbourne with a unabashed love of mariachi music, and dirty garage sounds. They refer to their sound as MexiMotown and it’s a label that sticks. All the vocals, often multi pronged singalongs are in Spanish and even an awareness of the lack of authenticity does nothing to dispel the pure rambunctious joy at the heart of this music. Each member plays guitar, kick drum and various foot percussion, they all want to do everything. The title means cheese and balls. It’s perfect.
Bob Baker Fish