Culipandeo EP, Piyama Party
Rating: 84
Independiente, México
by Enrique Coyotzi
Oh, Piyama Party, how you crack me up. Sometimes, you bring about nasty, kinky feelings. Other times, you make me want to take loads of drugs (any kind accepted) and stay at home contemplating nothingness. Occasionally, it's simply the impulse to listen to some Dinosaur Jr. or Pixies and devour all kinds of junk food. Or my favorite: the image of a crusty lover, a disorganized bed, and being hella high in a favorite songs marathon til dawn. Whatever mundane thoughts they bring to mind, point is, the Coahuila idols, led by witty lyricist and singer Luis Ángel Martínez, shouldn’t be taken that seriously—at least not lyrically, even though it’s crucial to their cleverness. Piyama Party already has obtained a legendary mipster status thanks to landmark indie classics such as “Nosotros los rockers” or “Fan de Carcass.” At this stage, I’d dare to declare them the equivalent of Pavement in Mexican indie rock and, under that comparison, their so-fucking-good, constantly diverse Culipandeo EP would be the equivalent to the California heroes' magnanimously well-thought Wowee Zowee.
Upgrading the mostly unpolished, rocking spirit of Más Mejor, as well as Michael Está Vivo’s upbeat approach and appreciation of rhythm boxes and synths, Culipandeo focuses on several diverse styles that go from abrasive garage punk (“Siéntate en mi cara”), reminiscent western-like tunes (“Abridor”), insane keyboard-flavored curious mixtures (“Culipandeo”), acoustic guitar-based marvels (“Sexo, drogas y comida chatarra”), and pretty much kick ass, careless, filthy indie rock, which this time results in a softer yet frantic collection of eight essential songs that could each stand on their own, since they are stylistically all over the place. As a whole, they serve as your perfect 18-minute, strongly tied, fleeting soundtrack of what we in Mexico commonly refer to as “echar la hueva.” Hilarious opener “Elton” is a perfect example of why Piyama Party’s lyrics shouldn’t be overanalyzed, but simply enjoyed. “A ti te encanta Elton John/con sus lentes y su piano/pero yo no estoy celoso/porque es un maricón,” Martínez laughably tells his girl, who's a hardcore Elton John fan. Seriously, I could imagine a member of the "gay community" (hate that term) offended by it, or a casual listener believing it's a homophobic gesture, but it ain't. Martínez’s wordplay is ingenious, looking forward to just having some fun being irreverent. The situations he portrays are silly yet so familiar. He’s a comical, carefree, clever guy whose voice speaks through many others.
Extending on pop culture references, “Las chicas de Bret” is an exhilarating tribute to Bret Michaels’ entourage of generally wasted suitors during his VH1 reality show, Rock of Love. “Sexo, drogas y comida chatarra” is easily one of the best tunes the band has crafted throughout their abundant career. Funky guitar playing, fresh percussion, and sexy electric distortion are all present in this ardently, stimulating highlight about how to spend time with a companion in a bedroom (“vamos a ver porno, a jugar videojuegos toda la noche"). Later on, the vocalist soothingly narrates how his mind goes out of this world while driving and getting distracted with those hot girls on the street in the stupefying “Podría provocar un accidente.” Title track “Culipandeo” is a rendition of a sexually-fueled dance that basically consists of rubbing ass against pelvis (a sort of not so over the top daggering, more like perreo; check that cover!) is hugely rhythmic, richly frenetic, and ventures into uncharted eclectic territory for the group. “Abridor” commences with some latent heat, momentarily transporting to some Ennio Morricone landscape, and “Si yo fuera presidente,” an uplifting take on Argentina’s Ignacio Copani’s original piece, works as a subtle take on the country’s shitty current political panorama. At this point, no doubt Piyama Party would do better than any of the unconvincing candidates. Tumultuous, senses-hammering closer “Siéntate en mi cara” kicks everyone’s asses, evoking some of Dávila 666/Las Ardillas best moments and serving as another gold-star-on-the-forehead moment for these earnest badasses.
As I’ve read on other reliable blogs, the band supposedly/hopefully will release their third full-length this year. While it isn't official, let’s just say that Culipandeo has set the anticipation bar quite high and, temporarily, but satisfyingly, quenched our thirst. This is such a tremendous, compelling EP which I already anticipate referring to as a must in the future. Reaffirming themselves as one of Mexico’s quintessential underground bands, Piyama Party has demonstrated a jaw dropping trail, and the sparse, high-grade Culipandeo simply shines as their best release so far.