Album: Kinky

Kinky, Sonic 360/London

Traditionally, Mexican music was presented to the world in predominantly touristic form, as a quaintly sombrero'd combo of strolling musicians singing of sweet señoritas to the accompaniment of outsize guitars and mariachi trumpets. It took Flaco Jimenez to reveal that beneath those stereotypes lurked a plethora of subtle musical forms such as conjunto and norteno, and it took Los Lobos to demonstrate how well those forms could absorb and combine with outside influences. That eclectic impulse was more recently extended by techno-funk trio Titan, and reaches its furthest extent yet with this debut release from Monterrey quintet Kinky, a colourful slice of Mexican techno-pop that simply refuses to linger too long in the same place, bouncing about the musical map with complete disregard for the niceties of ethnic authenticity. One moment you're grooving to the slick funk of "Mas", the next you're wondering if that really is a Japanese koto duelling away with that squawking vocoder in "Soun Tha Mi Primer Amor". Then there's the Latino techno of "Great Spot", the frisky vamping accordion of "Cornman" and the jazzy shuffle of "San Antonio", with its electric piano, flute and radio samples. Rhythm is central throughout, an ever-shifting bed of drums, congas, timbales, shakers, guiros and stuttering synths, while the lyrics reveal a memorably poetic sensibility, musing philosophically upon such matters as sky, sun, sound, and especially love: "The entire room longs for your breath, perfuming each moment with the sound of your words/ Your face tattooed on my eyelids, and each time I close my eyes I see you there".