New York Music Daily

Global Music With a New York Edge

Tag: latin soul

Celebrating One of Manhattan’s Most Fearless Impresarios at the Borough’s Best Listening Room

There aren’t many venues left anywhere in New York where you can walk in on just about any show night and randomly discover a great new band or solo artist. But you can still do that at the American Folk Art Museum. The museum earned this blog’s award for Best Manhattan Venue a couple of years ago, largely because of impresario Lara Ewen, who brings in a wildly diverse and frequently excellent mix of global folk styles along with Americana and singer-songwriters.

Ewen is turning fifty this June 14, and an all-star cast (she isn’t saying who, just yet) are on tap to come out to celebrate at her mostly-weekly Free Music Fridays series at the museum starting at 5:30 PM. Ewen’s booking (and her songwriting) reflect her background growing up in working-class, multicultural Queens. Three recent discoveries there – for this blog, at least – reflect Ewen’s ferocious dedication to bringing in music that represents the real New York.

In his debut at the museum this past spring, Greg Connors played electric guitar – not something you’d expect at a venue originally know for folk music, but Ewen likes to defy the odds. He ran his axe through a pedalboard with a lot of effects, flinging chords out into the space’s natural reverb and building to stomping, singalong choruses. His lyrics are edgy and cynical; his songs tell brooding stories set among the down-and-out without being cliched. His tantalizingly short set, clocking in at just over a half an hour, reminded of 90s underground songwriting stars Matt Keating or Jim Allen from time to time. If Connors had been around back then, he probably would have been playing CB’s Gallery and Sin-e and the rest of the East Village songwriter venues, all of them gone in a blitzkrieg of gentrification and real estate bubble madness. Connors hangs his hat in Peekskill now – he was awestruck at how attentively the audience at the museum responded, considering that he’s used to singing over crowds of drunks.

In her museum debut a week later, Ruby Landen explored several more traditional folk styles, from Appalachian-flavored balladry to French chanson. Her spare, elegant, eclectic guitar fingerpicking matched her low-key, purposefully plaintive vocals. She’s a relative newcomer to the New York Americana scene, so at the time of her show there was little on the web about her beyond a couple of youtube videos. But Ewen books a lot of good up-and-coming artists regardless of how little-known they are.

Another individualistic artist who’s just getting started and made her debut there last month is Yurby, who has even less of a presence online. There’s nobody in New York who sounds anything like her. Backed for most of her show by a bluesy, jazz-influenced electric guitar, she showed off a disarmingly clear, pure soul voice throughout a catchy mix of slowly unwinding ballads. Once in awhile there’d be a hint of a latin Caribbean influence, but otherwise, it wouldn’t be fair to pigeonhole her as neosoul. And her lyrics deal with empowerment and fighting injustice as much as the usual battle of the sexes. At the end of her set, she treated the crowd to one of those anthems, in Spanish.

Who knows – it wouldn’t be a stretch to see all three of these artists at Ewen’s birthday party. And maybe Ewen herself will treat the crowd to a few numbers – she won’t admit it, but she has one of the most magically mutable voices in town.

Pan-Latin Surrealism and a Jersey City Gig By the Individualistic J Hacha de Zola

“Is it dark enough for you?” J Hacha de Zola asks. “This singular sensation, this odd delegation, it never made any sense.” That’s a line from a smoldering, spacy Brian Jonestown Massacre-style soundscape on his new album Icaro Nouveau, streaming at Bandcamp.. Most of the other tracks on the eclectic bandleader’s record are a lot more rhythmic, ranging from salsa-rock to latin soul and what.could be south-of-the-border Nick Cave, to Tom Waits circa Rain Dogs, at his most boisterous. A lot of this album follows the same kind of  psychedelic tangents another New York tropical eclecticist, Zemog el Gallo Bueno, indulges in. Hacha de Zola’s dayjob is biochemistry: presumably, that pays for the lavish production and army of musicians (uncredited) here, horn section and all. He’s playing the album release show with his band tonight, April 18 at 9 PM at FM Jersey City; cover is $8

The first track, Anarchy, a swaggering,, sutrealist strut sets the stage for the rest of the album. El Chucho (Hooko) is a rapidfire, similarly anarchic Balkan cumbia, aswirl with brass, guitars, and noisy piano. On a Saturday has a vintage 70s latin soul groove: the bandleader’s energetic croak brings to mind Australian legend Rob Younger’s more recent projects on the mic. Interestingly, the next number, Juan Salchipapas, reminds of Younger’s original band, Aussie psychedelic punks Radio Birdman, at their most slinky and starry

A Song For Her is a staggering shot at tremoloing retro-Orbison Twin Peaks pop, bolstered by guitar overdubs bristling in both channels. The brooding, echoing, swaying, Doorsy bolero rock ballad A Fool’s Moon is the album’s strongest track. Ode to Ralph Carney – the late, lamented ex-Tom Waits saxophonist who was Hacha de Zolla’s “secret weapon” in earlier versions of the band – takes shape as a fond, slow New Orleans funeral march.

The band take a stab at oldschool soul wiht Super Squeaky (titles don’t seem to be anything more than random here) and close with Hacha’s Lament, a return to vintage latin soull If real oldschool surrealism – we’re talking the early 20th century kind – is your thing, along with umpteen retro styles, J Hacha de Zola is your man.

Trippy, Kaleidoscopic Salsa and Latin Soul and a Barbes Gig from Zemog El Gallo Bueno

Abraham Gomez – who goes by Zemog El Gallo Bueno – was one of the pioneers of the psychedelic salsa revival back in the zeros. His surrealistically entertaining latest album, YoYouMeTu, Vol. 3 is streaming at Bandcamp. It’s a lot more African-influenced than his earlier work, with hypnotically vamping interludes slowly morphing into all sorts of strange musical shapes. Lately his home base has been Barbes, where he’s been playing an off-and-on monthly residency for the last couple of years. His next gig there is Dec 8 at 10 PM; brilliant trumpeter Ben Holmes plays beforehand at 8 with his haunting Middle Eastern-tinged trio, Naked Lore.

A balmy, bluesy horn intro opens the new album’s first track, Americae, a bad way to start: this spastically loopy, petulantly annoying red herring should have been left on the cutting room floor, Things get better from there, first with The Balance Imbalance Dance, a chirpy, trippy clave bounce that veers back and forth into cumbia, then the creepy, carnivalesque mambo Chains. “You say it’s high school? More like prison,” Gomez intones dramatically.

Motivate is a funny, subtly clave-driven parody of singsongey corporate reggaeton-pop that gets a lot more serious as the horns blaze and the groove goes further back toward Africa. A hypnotic web of spiky guitar spiced with kaleidoscopic brass counterpoint filters through the album’s title track; the band finally take it out with a George Clinton-esque vocoder break

Maria Christina Eisen’s tasty, smoky baritone sax opens Quiero Correr, a psychedelic latin soul number that looks back to the early 70s in Spanish Harlem. A lingering guitarscape introduces Sexy Carnitas – A Telenovela, the album’s funniest song: if 60s assembly-line pop bands like the Turtles really knew their way around latin soul, they would have sounded like this.

With its scrapy guiro beat and reverbtoned, slightly out-of-tune piano, Wedding Song has the feel of a 40s Peruvian cumbia – until the music goes completely off the cliff. The album ends with the rustic bomba theme Agua a Peso, then Pianola – its most epic track – which sounds like an update on an old Veracruz ballad from the 1930s. This music is as weird as it is catchy – the Barbes concert calendar doesn’t lie – and onstage the band negotiate its innumerable, unexpected twists and turns without missing a beat.

Spanglish Fly Push the Envelope with a Classic, Slinky Latin Soul Sound

Much as the hypnotically clattering opening track on Spanglish Fly’s new album Ay Que Boogaloo! is titled Bugalú pa’ mi Abuela, this isn’t your grandmother’s latin soul. For the the past few years, Spanglish Fly have been putting a spicy horn-driven spin on the classic sounds that percolated out of Spanish Harlem in the mid-60s, when the local Puerto Rican and African-American populations started what would become a legendary musical cross-pollination. Much as this is dance music first and foremost, the new album is packed with neat instrumental touches that flash by so fast that it’s hard to keep track.

And much as the record – recorded live to two-inch analog tape, available on delicious vinyl and streaming at Bandcamp -pays mucho respect to the greats who came before, several generations of Nuyorican multi-disciplinary artistry are represented. To kick it off, El Callegueso guests as emcee, as do a number of poets and personalities from across the decades on several of the tracks.

“This is Subway Joe talking to you from way back,” the godfather of latin soul, Joe Bataan grins as New York Rules slinks along. It’s a shout-out to the B train (and the scary shit that every New Yorker risks every time we swipe through, or jump the turnstile). The closing interlude, with its sly Ellington quote, is irresistibly fun even if it’s kind of obvious

The band reinvents Amy Winehouse’s You Know I’m No Good as Chica Mala Mambo, a brooding, simmering groove under Mariella Gonzalez’s gritty vocals, part brass and part smoke. Morgan Price’s smoldering baritone sax rises out of a jungle of percussion and coros on the outro.   

Ojalá-Inshallah dances around a catchy, anthemic brass chart, proto-Afrobeat and latin soul mashed up like Hugh Masekela might have done it in the late 60s…but with hints of Arabic music. As with the rest of the tracks here, there are all kinds of tasty tradeoffs and interplay, in this case between Kenny Bruno’s piano and the percussion section – timbalero Teddy Acosta, conguero Dylan Blanchard, bongo player Ronnie Roc and drummer Arei Sekiguchi.

Gonzalez celebrates the Spanish Caribbean/New York, rural-to-urban connection in the summery La Clave e’Mi Bugalú, punctuated by a tantalizing breakdown, Bruno’s organ shimmering behind the horns and a thumping thicket of percussion. The most distinctly retro number, with its sultry jazz harmonies from the two frontwomen and mashup of jump blue and latin soul, is  Boogaloo Shoes – tenor saxophonist Matt Thomas steps out on that one. 

Mister Dizzy Izzy – a shout-out to Salsa Magazine founder Izzy Sanabria, featuring actor Flaco Navaja – hides an oldschool son montuno tune inside the band’s intricate interweave and a blazing crescendo driven by trumpeter/bandleader Jonathan Goldman.

Aretha sang about Spanish Harlem, but the group really take her sound there with a smoking,, boogaloo-ized reinvention of Chain of Fools, with sizzling baritone and tenor sax breaks, and percussion by Snowboy.

Swinging along over an incisive, LA Woman-style electric piano and organ groove, Coco Helado features an unexpectedly somber cameo by poet Rowan Ricardo Phillips. They wind up the party with the mighty noir soul anthem How Do You Know/Cómo Sabes, Paloma Muñoz’s richly brooding vocals over the uneasy, brassy backdrop that morphs into a streetwise call-and-response at the end. Goldman and the rest of the band find it appropriate that this multi-lingual, multicultural female-fronted mashup would be one of the first albums recorded during the scary first days of the current Presidential administration. If Putin’s big fat obese bitch in the Oval Office survives impeachment, he can always go see these guys at the Kennedy Center.

Spanglish fly’s next gig is at 8 PM on April 20 on a twinbill with wild Fela cover band Chop & Quench at Flushing Town Hall; cover is $16/$10 stud, and ages 13-19 get in free with school ID.

A Rare Appearance From the Darkly Slinky Ghost Funk Orchestra

Over the past couple of years, multi-instrumentalist Seth Applebaum has been building a catchy, slinky, darkly cinematic catalog of organic dance music, mostly by himself. He calls the project Ghost Funk Orchestra. And since he’s a one-man band, more or less, he has to pull a group together if he wants to play live. Which is rare. That’s why the Ghost Funk Orchestra’s upcoming gig on Jan 5 at 8 PM at Baby’s All Right is a pretty big deal – and it’s free.

Back in 2016, Applebaum sent over the tracks to his first album, Night Walker, streaming at Bandcamp. They’ve been sitting here on one hard drive or another ever since. Let’s say they’ve aged well – hypnotic, ominous grooves never go out of style.

After a trippy, atmospheric intro, the first cut is Brownout, which is basically a clattering one-chord latin funk jam with distantly enigmatic vocals from Adrii Muniz. Applebaum laces Dark Passage with flickers of reverb surf guitar over multitracks that spiral and linger over catchy, undulating bass and drums – again, a one-chord jam.

The album’s title track takes a turn into Chicano Batman-style psychedelic latin soul: this time, it’s Laura Gwynn as the femme fatale on the mic. Demon Demon is a funny, Halloweenish vamp: Applebaum’s faux-beatnik spoken-word voiceover builds a creepy after-dark tableau over a percolating backdrop reminiscent of a Herbie Hancock early 70s blaxploitation film score.

Blood Moon makes a return to latin soul: with Muniz’s cheery vocals and Applebaum’s gritty guitars, it’s the album’s hardest-rocking track. After the briskly shuffling latin funk Interlude fades up and out, Applebaum builds an uneasily summery scenario in Franklin Avenue – a dreaded deep-Brooklyn destination lowlit by Gabriela Tessitore’s vocals and Rich Siebert’s trumpet in tandem with Applebaum’s guitars and Ally Jenkins’ shivery violin.

The album’s final cut is the slowly swaying, lingering nocturne A Moment of Clarity. Fans of ominously picturesque grooves by bands from Big Lazy, to the Royal Arctic Institute, will love this stuff. And it’s impossible to sit still while you’re listening. Bounce to this on the south side of Williamsburg next year – or on the train on the way there.

And there’s more! In the months since Applebaum put out this album, he hasn’t exactly been idle. Ghost Funk Orchestra’s latest album, Something Evil – also streaming at Bandcamp – takes a turn into both funkier and more sinister territory.

 

Chicano Batman, the Hottest Thing in Latin and Psychedelic Soul, Hit Central Park This Weekend

Chicano Batman are the hottest thing in psychedelic soul right now – or maybe in all of soul music, for that matter. Over the course of their eclectic career, they’ve done everything from noir psychedelia to  LA lowrider grooves as well as  more tropical sounds. Their latest album Freedom Is Free – streaming at Bandcamp – is their most traditionally 60s soul-oriented, yet with the psychedelic touches they’re best known for. They’re the highlight of a triplebill this Satutday,  July 15 at around 5 PM at Central Park Summerstage. A generically dancey band open the afternoon at 3ish; popular 80s Argentine janglerockers Los Pericos headline atfterward if you feel like sticking around for your nostalgia fix .Get there on time if you’re going

The album opens with Passed You By, a gorgeous oldschool soul ballad  that sounds like the Zombies covering the Stylistics, with Binky Griptite in elegant mode on lead guitar. The reverb on frontman Bardo Martinez’s organ, backing vocals and echoey guitar fragments add subtle psychedelic touches to the point where the whole is a lot bigger than the sum of its parts – this band is very good at doing that.

Martinez  turns up his organ’s roto all the way over drummer Gabriel Villa’s scrambling shuffle groove, like the Soul Brothers with hints of James Brown, in Friendship (Is a Small Boat in a Storm). Angel Child is a real trip: strutting bass, woozy wah guitar, lysergically pulsing Sergeant Pepper textures and a little in-the-pocket James Brown all mashed up together.

Bassist Eduardo Arenas’ snappy drive fuels the album’s sunny title track, while guitarist Carlos Arévalo shows off his elegant Hendrixian chosp on the spiky, psychedleic intro to the understatedly plaintive, Os Mutantes-tinged La Jura, a feast of vintage organ and vintage analog synth textures. All the trick endings raise the surrealism level several notches.

The band balances rapidfire precision – check out Arévalo’s wry wah-wah guitar solo – with a lingering red-sunset atmosphere in Flecha Al Sol. Jealousy is not the creepy Ninth House dirge but an artfully assembled, crescendoing  original – is that a weird low-register synth patch, or Arenas’ bass running through a fuzztone pedal? It’s anybody’s guess.

The band follows the delicious jangles and ripples of the bouncy latin funk intro Right Off the Back with Run, a swaying, shapeshifting mini-epic sparkling with blippy organ, flitting congas, mosquito guitar, soaringly orchestrated choruses featuring New York’s own all-female Mariachi Flor de Toloache and a couple of unexpectedly balmy organ interludes.

The album’s longest and best track, The Taker Story, is an anti-imperialist broadside, part Isaac Hayes hot butter, part Gil Scott-Heron, with a hazy latin tint. Over a leaping, trickily polyrhythmic groove, Martinez traces many thousand years of colonization and relentless exploitation. “You can’t believe that native people are still around,” Martinez intones with withering sarcasm. The album winds up with the uneasily rippling psych-folk theme Area C. This is going to be the summer jam for an awful lot of people in 2017.

Meah Pace Brings Her Blue-Flame Retro Soul Stylings to a Rare Park Slope Gig

The stage at Long Island City Bar turned out to be too small for Meah Pace the last time she played there, over Martin Luther King weekend last month. The charismatic, personable retro soul singer pounced, and shimmied, and twisted in front of her simmering six-piece band, but ultimately it was like watching a lioness in a cage. She really needs a big stage to do her thing. Until then, you can catch her in similarly intimate blue-flame mode on March 23 at 8 PM at Salzy Bar, 506 5th Ave at 13th St. in Park Slope. Take the F – or the G – to 7th Ave.

Pace’s voice is raw but refined; to compare her to Sharon Jones would not be an overstatement. The nuance and wiggles in her blue notes are in the moment rather than studied, and her band pays close attention to where she takes the crowd. That cold evening in Queens, guitarist Alec Berlin warmed up the room with a wryly haphazard intro from Hendrix’s version of the Star Spangled Banner. Then keyboardist Randy Ingram hit his echoey Fender Rhodes patch and the band launched into a slinky version of Gimme Shelter. It was as if Jagger had invited a young Tina Turner up to sing it, the two-sax line of tenorist Jeremy Udden and baritone goddess Paula Henderson punching in hard.

Pace took the sound back in time another half-decade to the mid-60s with the bouncy, swaying vintage soul ballad after that, Berlin giving it a funky pulse in tandem with bassist Jeremy Willms and drummer Greg Joseph. Then Pace’s voice got gritty as they went deep into Promised Land, the opening track on her album 11:03, part vintage 60s JBs funk, part latin soul.

Ingram’s electric piano flickered over a slow 6/8 groove as Pace brought the lights down with the gorgeously bittersweet 70s Stylistics soul jazz-tinged ballad Gracefully. Then they lit into the vampingly hypnotic clave soul groove of On My Brain and kept the nocturnal vibe going with I Wish It Would Rain, punctuated by Berln’s wall-bending acid-rock solo.

The night’s funkiest, hardest-hitting number was I Don’t Need Ya, the horns nailing a sassy go-go riff, Pace picking it up at the end with a defiant, passionate rasp. Then they brought out all the doom and despair in an absolutely spot-on reinvention of the old mid-70s Alice Cooper ballad Only Women Bleed.

Willms’ Stax/Volt riff and Berlin’s Tex-Mex phrasing anchored their Big Mama Thornton-inspired version of Hound Dog, Pace cajoling Joseph into playing a shuffle beat on the snare with just his hands; Henderson’s shivery hailstorm of a solo brought the intensity to redline. They closed the night with a motoring, expansive take of the album’s title track, Nutbush City Limits style. While Pace can sing classic covers all night long if she feels like it, and has done that for the sake of a payday, it’s always more fun to hear her originals. That’s what she’s probably going to do at the Brooklyn gig.

Rev. Billy Brings His Infectious Environmentalist Punk Gospel to an Old Haunt

For the past several years, Billy Talen has been a thorn in the side of the robber barons, the banksters and their schemes to transfer income up from working people to the one-tenth-of-one-percent…as well as speaking truth to power as far as how global chains are destroying the individual fabric of communities worldwide. In the wake of Hurricane Katrina, Talen became an even more committed environmentalist. Since then, he’s given the bozack to rapacious mountaintop clearcutters, agribusiness and their frankenseeds and frankenfood. He’s got a new book out, The Earth Wants YOU, and an album of the same title with his mighty punk gospel group. Reverend Billy and the Stop Shopping Choir‘s new record is streaming at Bandcamp; they’re playing the album release show at a familiar haunt, Joe’s Pub tomorrow night, May 10 at 9:30 PM. Cover is $12, or $10 with code “Earthalujah.”

The group are sort of the gospel version of the Clash. Depending on where they’re playing – bank headquarters, ATMs and Starbucks are where Talen and his activist crew typically get cuffed by the cops – they often number more than forty people. The core of the band comprises pianist/musical director Nehemiah Luckett, bassist Nathan Stevens and drummer Eric Johnson. As befits a democracy, singers from throughout the choir get plenty of chance to show off their chops. Soprano Laura Newman is more or less the main soloist, and contributes many of the songs as well: if Rev. Billy is the group’s Joe Strummer, she’s their Mick Jones.

The album opens with Flying, its 70s latin soul groove anchored by an understatedy ominous eco-disaster theme and “circle around” vocal riff. Newman’s powerful soprano fuels the swinging, antique-flavored gospel anthem Fabulous Bad Weather: when global warming really gets out of control, “What will you do?” Newman  calls to the choir for an answer.

Revolution is a ferociously relevant mashup of latin soul and hip-hop, referencing Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood while making the connection between the prison-industrial complex, eco-disaster and the destruction of individual cultures around the world. Another edgy latin soul groove, Monsanto Is the Devil calls bullshit on the dangers of GMO seeds: “The devil must be slain,” the choir roars.

Talen makes his first appearance out in front of the group in The Human Blues, fervently pondering how so many of us got lost and switched out community for apathy. The Man Down offers swaying, towering encouragement to “get home safe,” commemorating the murder of innocent victims from Trayvon Martin all the way back to Emmett Till.

Climate Change Blues and Gratitude, both oldschool gospel tunes, take a more personal view of activist commitment. Newman immortalizes the Declaration of Occupy Wall Street in the massive epic We Are The 99%. The brief Cops & Bankers reminds that cops on the beat and people who work in banks are 99-percenters just like us…and that we ought not to jump to conclusions about them.  The album winds up with the snarky, satirical Shopocalypse, a throwback to the irresistibly fun, funny anti-consumerist anthems of the band’s early years. A towering triumph for the entire crew, including but not limited to singers Lillian Ball, Jess Beck, Gusti Bogok, Mayfield Brooks, John Carlin, Sierra Carrere, Molly Chanoff, Katie Degentesh, Dragonfly, Ben Dubin-Thaler, Gina Figueroa, Christopher Beck, Donald Gallagher, Yvonne Gougelet, Amber Gray, Gaylen Hamilton,  Pat Hornak, Monica Hunken, Lizzie Hurst, Sarah East Johnson, Denice Kondick, Barbara Robin Lee, E. Katrina Lewis, Chantel Cherisse Lucier,  Laurie Mitttleman, Shilpa Narayan, Onome, Sylver Pondolfino, Susannah Pryce, John Quilty, Shuhei Shimizu, Ashlie Lauren Smith, Dawn Stewart-Lookkin, Catherine Talese, Theodros Tamirat, Travis Tench, Chideo Tsemunhu, Danny Valdes and David Yap.

Spanglish Fly Bring Their Hot Spanish Harlem Flavor to This Year’s Chile and Chocolate Festival

Let’s say you’re in charge of a popular annual Brooklyn hot pepper festival. Of all the bands in New York, who would you want to serenade the crowd as the doors open? The Brooklyn Botanic Garden chose fiery, hard-hitting latin soul revivalists Spanglish Fly to open this year’s Chile and Chocolate Festival this Saturday, September 26. Festivities start at 11 AM – that’s when the band hits – and continue til 6 along the cherry tree esplanade, which is a short walk from the Eastern Parkway entrance, just steps from the Eastern Parkway stop on the 2/3 trains.. And if you stick around until 3:15, you’ll get to hear popular 90s Jamaican crooner Everton Blender; then at 4:45 the eclectic reggae/Afrobeat Refugee All-Stars of Sierra Leone take the stage. Admission is $20/$15 stud/srs, kids under 12 get in free. And many of the vendors offer free samples as well.

Spanglish Fly also have a long awaited full-length debut album, New York Boogaloo, just out and streaming at Bandcamp. The band’s Harvey Averne-produced 2010 debut album is closer stylistically to the vintage singles of artists like Joe Bataan or Joe Cuba; the new one is more like those artists live, stretching out the songs with a blazing, brass-fueled salsa dura flavor. If you try sitting still to this stuff, your body will revolt.

The opening track, Esta Tierra, sets the stage: slinky percussion, fat slipsliding bass, smoky roto Hammond organ and similarly sepia-tinged trombones. And then a pause, and Kenny Bruno’s elegantly tumbling piano comes in, frontwoman Erica Ramos (who’s since been replace by the charming Mariella Gonzalez) offering a tour of the hood where these Puerto Rican and Harlem grooves started to cross-pollinating fifty years ago. The band takes it doublespeed from there, fueled by leader Jonathan Goldman’s jaunty trumpet. All this in less than five minutes.

Bump (And Let It Slide) is a real catchy one, a briskly strolling, edgy blend of echoey Rhodes piano, minor-key brass and summery organ spiced with Jonathan Flothow’s baritone sax. Return of the Po-Po is a sad scenario that just about any New Yorker who’s been here since the Rudy Mussolini era can relate to: hanging in the park after closing time? Open container, maybe a smoky treat? Uh oh, 5-0!

Martian Boogaloo is an instrumental, its catchy horn riffage punctuated by a handful of wry percussion breaks: just when it seems that percussionists Machuco Estremera and Gabo Tomasini and timbalero Charly Rodriguez are going to chill and just hit on the clave, they cut loose. The ever-present buzz of the scraper propels Mira Ven Aca, a Johnny Colon hit from 1967 that gets the fullscale psychedelic soul treatment, including but not limited to a coolly precise multitracked keyboard break.

42 (El Cuarenta y Dos) is a scurrying go-go shout-out to longtime Yankees closer and future Hall of Famer Mariano Rivera – and it doesn’t sound the least bit like Enter Sandman. Love Graffiti Me takes The Locomotion and gives it a deeper, more spring-loaded bounce. Being a New York band, one assumes that Spanglish Fly are referring to the kind of bike you own, rather than rent from some corrupt, bankrupt corporation, in Me Gusto Mi Bicicleta. “Better ride on two wheels!” Gonzalez warns.

The wounded ballad Ciudate Hermana, Bruno’s anguished High Romantic piano underpinning Ramos’ eerily torchy vocals, is an unexpected break from all the party flavor – strangely enough, it might be the best track on the album. The party vibe returns on the final cut, Brooklyn Boogaloo, a hip hop-style shout-out to your neighborhood and everybody else’s. Since Spanglish Fly burst on the scene back in the late zeros, other bands have been mashing up classic soul with classic salsa, but these guys got there first.

If you can’t make it to Brooklyn on Saturday,  Spanglish Fly are at Goddard Riverside Center, 647 Columbus Ave. at 92nd St. on the 29th at 8 PM for $10; take the 1/2/3 t0 96th.

Spanglish Fly Keep the Party Going at Barbes

Although what Spanglish Fly play is ostensibly boogaloo music, what they do isn’t retro at all. Basically, they come across as jazz guys playing a distinctively edgy 21st century update on classic psychedelic latin soul from the 60s. And there’s a little early Afrobeat – think Hugh Masekela – in there too, along with umpteen breaks for flurrying, postbop jazz horn solos, or momentary explosions from the timbales or the congas. You could make a case that they’re a cross between the Bronx Horns and Sharon Jones‘ backing band the Dap-Kings. When Chicha Libre (another individualistic, smartly improvisational band putting a new spin on an old sound, in their case Peruvian psychedelic cumbias) went on hiatus, Spanglish Fly were the first to take over that band’s long-running Monday night residency at Barbes. And they did a good job picking up the slack for an impossibly good act to follow. The first night of the residency, back in December, and then their show there this past Monday were full of surprises and top-shelf playing. They give party music a good name.

Trumpeter/bandleader Jonathan Goldman directed the band – who seem to be a semi-rotating cast of characters -with split-second precision when he wasn’t kicking in with the rest of the horns on a punchy chorus, or spiraling out into the stratosphere with a solo. At the December show, they were joined midway through by singer Mariella Gonzalez, who led them through several originals with a coyly enticing delivery, singing in both English and Spanish. This past Monday, they had a fashionably dressed dreadlocked guy singing a couple of tunes including a snazzily reworked, salsafied version of I Heard It Through the Grapevine. The bass in this band has always been fat but it was especially fat on Monday: as much as there was going on in the rest of the band, just the catchy hooks looming in from the bass amp were enough to keep your head bobbing. One of the standout tracks both nights was Pensamiento (Think), a big showstopper with a salsa dura break midway through and a hard-hitting, irresistible chorus. December’s set was more stripped-down, with plenty of tumbling, incisive piano work. This week’s set was more of a showcase for the fire and drive of the four-piece horn section and the band’s intricate arrangements, which owe more to jazz than to either salsa or retro soul. Their next Barbes show is Feb 16 at 9 PM, and remember, Monday is professional night. All the amateurs will be at home asleep.