Border Rock

El Chupacabra

2007-11-12T10:49:00.000-07:00

Today's musical tangent is into the world of a Mexican fabeled goat killing machine, El Chupacabra. How did I jump from a legendary goat slaughterer to border music? Well, I'll tell you.

It has always been the case that writers write what they know and singers sing what they feel. Culture is a large portion of what we know, think, and feel because it effects every action and perspective of a person in a particular cohort. So, it stands to reason that an integral part of a musician's culture would undoubtedly end up in a song or two, just as an important portion of a writer's life would lead to a vignette.

El Chupacabra is a long told fable that has stretched across continents to haunt children's dreams worldwide. It is the legend of a creature that has been reported to live in the jungles and forests of either Mexico, Nicaragua, Puerto Rico, Chile, or oddly enough...Miami. Though the reported environments are drastically different, the story is always the same: the carcasses of goats are found strewn about, seemingly sucked dry with strange, inexplicable bite marks on their necks.

Whether or not you believe in El Chupacabra, it joins the ranks of other animals in the cryptozoology category such as Big Foot and the Loch Ness Monster. The basis of their infamy relies heavily on folklore and circumstantial evidence from those who identify themselves as "true believers."

There you have it: a deeply ingrained portion of border culture. So, in my infinite wisdom (or stupidity - the jury's still out on that one) I put in a search for songs involving El Chupacabra. What happened next would be anyone's guess.

A woman from Long Island, New York, Imani Coppola turned up. Undoubtedly top of the list because of her recent contribution to the hot new show Grey's Anatomy, Coppola had released an album called "Chupacabra."

Confused and almost annoyed that my brilliant plan had failed me, I clicked on the next link. This time the band's name was Chupacabra. They were from Colordado, but this HAD to be it. They were even cited in The Onion. I read on.

"[Chupacabra has] such a unique sound, rooted in the music of Brazil, Cuba, Jamaica, Mexico, West Africa, Europe and the U.S.A."

YEESSSSSSS. It worked! What a fascinating blend. I needed to hear it...but sadly all the links attached were dead ends.

No worries...it worked once, it can work again, I thought. But the next link wasn't as promising. To my utter disappointement I found the following video with the tag "Hungarian Ska" at the bottom.

Colorado. New York. Hungary. What did they all have in common? What was the fabled Mexican goat sucker so fashionable? Then it hit me. As people begin to interact with one another throughout the world using Myspace, Facebook, AIM, etc. they become part of a larger culture. Slowly but surely, assimilating fables like El Chupacabra will become almost second nature until the Internet isn't the only place full of crossing cultures. Maybe, just maybe, the unique hybrid of dueling cultures we have here in Tucson will start to become a cross-pollination technique that musicians all over the world will model. Who knows.

Desert Soul

2007-11-05T11:20:00.000-07:00

The Sewer Rats were a group of high school misfits who drove every weekend to the same spot in the quiet, dead of night to a meeting place in the desert. Sitting around a make-shift bonfire (using only the pieces of debris available in the cooling sand), they passed the time taking hardy swigs of cheap beer, long drags on cigarettes and occasionally strumming a song. Kyle DeBruhl, the self-proclaimed ring leader, would talk of these nights during the slow, painful newspaper hour just before fifth period lunch like they were sacred ceremonies of brotherhood. Me, being a stubborn native New Yorker, missed the point entirely.

There's nothing great about the desert. It's hot. It's sweaty. It's boring, I thought. What I didn't realize is I was thinking only of the daylight hours. I had no idea what a late night rendezvous in the cool desert night was like...until now.

Flash forward five years. I was scouring Myspace on a tip from an editor at the Tucson Citizen, Polly Higgins. The band she recommended was Greyhound Soul. The assignment: define the difference between Desert Rock and Border Rock. A much more challenging task than I imagined. I decided to start with the basics. What does it mean to be in the desert? What are the fundamental characteristics of being a border town smack dab in the middle of the desert with no where to go but Mexico.

I found my answer in Joe Pena's voice. "Midnight Radio," the track that happened to be cued on Greyhound Soul's site, embodied everything those stories DeBruhl used to tell me. His throaty vocals are the sand that sticks to the roof of your mouth and the back of your throat when taking a deep breath of hot, desert air. The smooth slide guitar is the sound of sun-soaked delerium that can only be quenched with a cold, wet beer freshly plucked from the cooler on the porch.

So does the music make the place or does the place make the music? Was this truly Desert Rock like the critics say or was it Border Rock? All I know is, that song IS Tucson. That black spot in a sea of rust, brown dirt on the tattered map in the glove compartment of my boiling car finally found its true sound.

If you don't believe Greyhound Soul is the sound of a border town, take the song, pop it into your CD player in the dead of night and just drive. Crack the window and let the cool, gritty air pour in. You'll know what I mean if you drive long enough. That's what it means to live in Tucson, on the border.

Like a Kid in a Candy Store

2007-10-27T17:29:00.000-07:00

It recently occurred to me that my senior year is steadily drawing to a close. A bittersweet thought that certainly didn't leave nearly as fast as it surfaced. I found myself sifting through old letters and scanning old AIM contacts that had grown stale in the years of studying, moving dorms and finding new friends. In a moment I can only think to refer to as my quarter-life crisis, I pulled up a contact I hadn't spoken to in nearly a year. Kevin Durand.

A former senior himself, Durand seemed to understand the premature panic I was experiencing and prescribed the only legal high he could think of: Pandora.

"Like the greek myth?" I typed, confused and intrigued.

"No," I could almost hear him laughing as he typed the response. "Pandora, the Music Genome Project."

I clicked the link. "What the Hell is a music genome," I thought, "and why do I not know about this?!?!"

A milky white page with calming blue accents slid into view with a caption: "We have a single mission: To play music you'll love - and nothing else."

"Bold statement," I thought.

A small text field in the center of the screen prompted me to type in the name of a song or artist I wanted to hear.

"All right," I thought unimpressed. "I'll play your little game, but I'm going to pick something obscure. Something you probably won't be able to locate...just to prove a point."

I carefully typed the words "Imogen Heap" into the field, being sure not to spell it incorrectly and gain an unfair advantage over the haughty Web site. I wanted a clean victory.

To my surprise, one of my favorite songs "Hide and Seek" by the artist I had just barely finished typing poured out of my speakers and danced through my ears.

"Lucky guess," I thought, still unconvinced. As my song came to an end, the Web site keyed up an artist I had never heard of before. Interestingly enough...it was good. It was really good. It was time to do some homework on this genome thing.

In the year 2000 a group of musicians and music lovers banded together to create a Web site for the masses of the musically addicted. Noting each song they come across, the ambitious group analyzes each composition using up to 400 musical attributes designated by a trained musical analyst. These attributes are the key to unlocking the musical identity of a song as well as determining the listener's unique taste. With the proper attributes noted, the Web site can locate other songs with similar "musical genetics" and predict the listener's preferences.

I said it before and I'll say it again. Music may be the only legal high left, but it's a damn good one. But could this site supply my need for border rock?

I typed in "Mana" and anxiously awaited the response. After a brief pause that felt like an eternity, the sweet sounds of La Ley wrapped around me like a warm blanket. "El Duelo," is a beautiful duet featuring a soothing array of acoustic guitars, powerful vocals, violins, bongo drums, and oddly enough, some tasteful whistling.

Next up on the Pandora musical adventure: Shakira. Now don't judge just yet. This is not the Shakira the U.S. knows. This is authentic, simply unfooled around with, Shakira. The track is called "Si Te Vas." With an attitude that reminded me of early Alanis Morisette, the song had all the necessary elements to get me out of my chair and dancing.

The playlist went on for hours, a relentless stream of music I could barely understand but enjoyed just the same. Rocking out is a universal language like math and love. There's no one way to go about it, just do what makes sense to you. The Web site is most definitely a MUST SEE. If you're curious about another culture, musical style, or just music in general, this place is heaven.

The trouble with English

2007-10-22T00:30:00.000-07:00

Though the weekend of Oct. 20 and 21 may not seem to be of any importance to the average Tucsonan, most University of Arizona students have it highlighted, circled and sharpy markered for extra emphasis. It's family weekend. That's right. It's a time for restocking the fridge with Mom and Dad's donations, eating out for dinner instead of scavangening at the Student Union and allowing sibling rivalries to rekindle for a bief, two-day period.

My parents and little brother made the trek once more to join me in seeing Avenue Q at the Tucson Convention Center on Saturday afternoon. It was to be my third time witnessing what I lovingly refer to as the politically incorrect, rated-R version of Sesame Street. The lights dimmed and all the songs and loveable characters I looked forward to seeing all month were finally before my very eyes. My expectations were high. I had already seen the play in Manhattan and Las Vegas, two cities that made for a hard act for Tucson to follow.

After about 3o minutes of singing and dancing, it was time for one of my favorite songs: "Everyone's A Little Bit Racist." The song always brought a smile to my face with its blatant satirical rendition of the sad, simple truth that society is never truly color blind. As I wiped the tears of laughter off my cheek, one of the lines from the song sank into my skin like a jagged splinter: "Why can't the Mexican bus boy learn some G-d damn english." It was a line I had never picked up on before that day. Somehow it held more meaning to me now than it had in years past.

"Everyone's A Little Bit Racist" from the Broadway play Avenue Q.

Virtually every Tucson resident is familiar with the frustrations language barriers can bring. How difficult must it be for Spanish speakers to learn English? I thought back to a few weeks prior when I first learned of code-switching. Maybe that's why bilingual musicians switch from language to language...because English poses so many obstacles for non-native speakers. Maybe they just use whatever word first pops into their minds, regardless of what language, just to get the message across without suffering further frustration in trying to decode all the grammatical rules. But what could be so hard about English?

As native speakers we often forget just how many exceptions there are to the English language. Here are some examples I found on a linguistic Web site called the Educational CyberPlayground:

1. The bandage was wound around the wound.
2. The farm was used to produce produce.
3. The dump was so full that it had to refuse more refuse.
4. We must polish the Polish furniture.
5. He could lead if he would get the lead out.
6. The soldier decided to desert his dessert in the desert.
7. Since there is no time like the present, he thought it was time to present the
present.
8. A bass was painted on the head of the bass drum.
9. When shot at, the dove dove into the bushes.
10. I did not object to the object.
11. The insurance was invalid for the invalid.
12. There was a row among the oarsmen about how to row.
13. They were too close to the door to close it.
14. The buck does funny things when the does are present.
15. A seamstress and a sewer fell down into a sewer line.
16. To help with planting, the farmer taught his sow to sow.
17. The wind was too strong to wind the sail.
18. After a number of injections my jaw got number.
19. Upon seeing the tear in the painting I shed a tear.
20. I had to subject the subject to a series of tests.
21. How can I intimate this to my most intimate friend?

Interesting how native speakers tend to overlook these tricky grammatical and phonetic exceptions.

So the next time you find yourself frustrated with a bus boy who's English is a little on the sketchy side or a Spanglish song on the radio, keep in mind: the rules for the English language aren't as finite as you once thought. It actually is quite challenging to demonstrate full proficiency.

Avenue Q. Just another example that music and border culture follow you more closely than you imagine.

Delinquent Habits

2007-10-15T13:28:00.000-07:00

Sometimes border culture is closer than it seems.
Sometimes it's even in your own living room.

In the true spirit of journalism, I was killing time in my dorm room avoiding homework by numbing my brain with a few pointless hours of television. It was my junior year, so frequent burn outs such as these were pretty standard. Sadly, my solution to motivating myself to finish out the work week was watching TV and making note of the movie trailers. I found that if I told myself "3 more hours of work and you can go to the movies," I was more likely to finish quickly. Sad thought. I know, but we're not here to judge me.

As I aimlessly flicked through the channels, my eyes locked onto a picture of Christian Bale and froze my fingers from clicking further. This should be good, I thought. It was an ad for "Harsh Times," a 2006 release about two friends in South Central Los Angeles who are torn apart by a series of unfortunate and violent events.

(Movie Trailer for "Harsh Times" featuring Delinquent Habits "The Return of Tres" in the background)

Interestingly enough, the thing that brought me to watch the trailer was not what held my attention to the end. Bale might be a pretty sight, but the music playing in the background had my foot tapping and my head swaying to the beat. Once a radio DJ always a DJ I suppose. Music gets my goosebumps going more than a pretty face. I had to know who sang that song.

Where would the world be without Google? I punched in what few lines I could remember from the song into the search engine and Delinquent Habits instantly became a new staple of my musical vocabulary.

(Delinquent Habits music video of "The Return of Tres.")

The song I heard was "The Return of Tres," an intoxicating blend of mariachi horns, hip-hop rhythm, and rap stylings in both Spanish and English. It was raw and yet refined with the smooth sound of classic Mexican horns contrasting the hard spit rhymes of the streets. It was different. It was innovative. I liked it.

I never did end up seeing that movie, but that song on repeat got me through a five page essay and some flash cards. To date, Delinquent Habits musical stylings have been featured in movie releases like "The Rundown" with The Rock, "Blue Crush," "Double Take," and many more. Ok. So their choice in movies isn't as great as their sound, but the Web site is still worth a gander.

Remember: always judge a band by sound and not their ability to make a sound choices.

Code Switching with The Rock Sauce

2007-10-08T13:52:00.001-07:00

It was another late night in the KAMP Student Radio broadcasting booth, more commonly known by KAMP sound engineers as the "hot-box." The air conditioning unfortunately turns itself off after the stroke of 5:00pm to save the electricity bill which left me, Matt Brailey (a former KAMP engineering director) and local talents The Rock Sauce sweating amidst the towering amps and medusa-like XLR-cables protruding from the mixing board. Our only distraction from the boiling heat was the band's entertainment and thank G-d they were good!

After a good 30 minutes of high-voltage tracks and hilarious conversation, the guys decided to slow down the mood a bit with a song called "Ale Alo." In a heat exhausted daze, I swayed back and forth checking the levels on the board and monitoring the computer read-outs. I pressed my left ear against the headphones resting on my left shoulder to check the vocal levels and noticed the words seemed jumbled in some way. I couldn't place what the disturbance was at first. Was it the microphones? No. The volume was just fine. Was it the computer mangling things up? No. The read-outs were fine. Finally it hit me: they had switched to Spanish! In one fluid motion the lyrics shifted from English to Spanish with barely enough time for me to recognize the switch.

Pictures of The Rock Sauce performing at KAMP Student Radio
(Taken by Stefanie Weiser)

I remembered just a few days earlier a friend of mine at work, who was bilingual in Spanish and English, also caught me off guard with a Spanglish conversation. I started to wonder whether there was a pattern to this. Do all bilingual speakers subconsciously bounce from language to language? Furthermore do other bilingual speakers understand the jumbled hybrid-language?

After a bit of research I found the answer was astoundingly yes! According to a Texas A&M International University Web site, "speakers of more than one language (e.g. bilinguals) are known for their ability to code-switch or mix their languages during communication." Originally researchers believed the reason for switching between languages in mid thought was because the individual was not entirely proficient in either language and therefore substituted words from both "mental dictionaries" to complete his or her thought, according to the Web site. However, recent studies in psycholinguistics indicate that code-switching is more of a byproduct of the individual's consistent interaction with both languages. In other words, a bilingual individual's mental word banks are not separate entities after all. In fact, they blend together in everyday use, thought, and apparently, music!

Ozomatli

2007-10-01T13:13:00.000-07:00

"Add to Amigos." That was the first button on Ozomatli's Myspace page that caught my eye. I didn't even hesitate to translate, "Add to Friends." Strange how the union of two completely separate languages in one sentence barely made me look twice for clarification.

For those readers who have not yet buckled under peer pressure to join one of the fastest growing social networks the Internet has ever seen, the "Add to Friends" button allows users to broaden their contact list within the network.

I guess the tip I got from the KAMP student radio marketing director Yael Farah was indeed a promising one for Border Rock, I thought as I skimmed the page.

"You should check out Ozomatli," said Farah, throwing her small voice over the usual KAMP studio noise. "I went to The Jazz Bowl in Hollywood five years ago and they performed there."

Worth a shot...and so there I was, poring over a sunburst orange Myspace page with buttons like "Add to Amigos." As my eyes scanned the site, "City of Angeles" poured out into the chaotic studio, vying for attention over the 1:00pm Monday show. The west coast, L.A. rockers are an intoxicating fusion of "cumbia, dub, and Middle Eastern funk," according to their Myspace description. A bold statement, I thought to myself. That's an extremely varied and seemingly contradictory influence base. I haven't seen salsa and hip hop mesh well since Daddy Yankee's "Gasolina." I listened on.

"They had a ton of energy they played their instruments walking throughout the crowd. It was good entertainment and at the same time really good quality music."

Ozomatli at Indie 103.1FM performing "City of Angels"

Alright, I thought. I'll keep trying to focus. Suddenly, it hit me...this was kinda catchy. Oddly enough, the rap-infused ska riff reminded me of early Jay-Z crashing into a Broadway musical. The back-up vocal chorus sounded like something ripped right out of "Rent," except there was no mention of AIDS. Sounds like an odd pairing I'm sure. I thought I was crazy when the description first tap danced off my keyboard and into this blog.

Frustrated and slightly confused, I asked Farah one last thing: "How the heck would you categorize these guys?"

"There's not one category that they can go into," she said as she turned back to her computer and finished out an email.

And that was that. I sorely wish I could describe this band to you. As cheesy as it sounds and as much as I hate saying it, you have to check it out yourself. The lyrics to the song I first heard when tuning in to this unconventional sound are listed below to allow your creative musical minds the opportunity to tell me what you think. Send me an email at PinkBulletsButterfly@cox.net with your comments.

"City of Angels" - Ozomotli.

What you know about my city that's tic tac?
Hustle to get stacks
Fail get laughed at
Even from here I hear the chit chat
Grew up Miracle Mile
Fairfax to tar traps, Hamilton High alumni
What you know Ham and cheese supreme
JB to Carthay cat LA it be the base and the catalyst
Walk Crescent Heights worldwide back to strangle us
Land of the saint and the land of the wicked
Hollywood to Bell
The manichean kick it
What a duality, arid reality
Devon Brown Shot
Minor technicality
Brad Pits cheatin' front page reality
Stanley Miller Beatin'
DA don't want to touch it
But I love my city
Soft yet rugged
Rep LA I know the Angels will love it

City of angels!

I let the beat talk
Then I just fill in the words
Its Jabulani that you're dealing with
My hood is tough like its clubber lang
So in the bucket I bump behind mac in the gutter lane
I write raps when I feel the pain or even sorrow
But you heard it before the sun will come out tomorrow,or so they say
But see we're living in L.A. and what you thought was the sun, was just a flash from the k
You stashing your weed in the passenger seat of the regal with the gold feet
Watch your back, lil' homie got a loaded mac on Figueroa
Just got a new girl
His rep he's finna show her
But slow down baby gangsta, you aint prepared for the truth
You got him and its gonna happen to you, aint gotta live how your homie do
Just work the angles
The city I'm from is Los Angels
Come on!

Also, check out the official site for photos, videos, and concert dates.

Tesoro

2007-09-24T12:14:00.000-07:00

I once believed flamenco, a beautiful harmony of rhythm, passion and lust, was a dying art form. In my mind it was a solitary silhouette of a once great ship sinking on the horizon, lost to the ages as it slowly fell beneath the blackened sea. That may sound overly dramatic, but I do have an overactive imagination. I suppose it doesn’t matter. My wild fantasies of sunken ships and forbidden flamenco treasures were all about to change.

It was another late night in the production booth at KAMP Student Radio on the University of Arizona campus. Former KAMP engineering director Matt Brailey and I were reviewing a few mixes we prepared for our next show. It was 10:30 p.m. on a white-hot Arizona night and the band we scheduled for an in-studio recording still hadn’t shown any signs of making an appearance.

“They did say they were gonna be a little late,” Brailey said as I impatiently checked my cell phone for the time. “Here, bring the levels on that guitar up a little more…You know what, check this band out. I think you’ll like them. I mixed this one a while back. Tell me what you think.”

I laughed. He was always good at holding my attention with his rapid change in subjects. He pulled up a file on his hard drive and tilted the studio speakers in my direction. What I heard sounded like a piece of history. If it’s possible for a song to have an old soul, this song certainly did. It had all the elements of a classic flamenco song with speedy finger picking solos, brief yet forceful guitar strokes and a dash of hot spice that left your throat burning for more.

“What is this?” I asked him, consumed in curiosity.

“Tesoro,” he said.

(Click the pic to hear the Live at KAMP Studio recording with Tesoro)

And that was that. I had to know more. Brailey was a great sound engineer, but he wasn’t too keen on organization. The song he played me didn’t even have a name besides “Song 6_mixdown – take1.” It didn’t matter though. I wanted more.

After a few failed Google searches (apparently I’m not the world’s greatest typist when I’m excited), I stumbled upon the band’s Web site. Little did I know their musical repertoire was is no way confined to flamenco stylings. The remarkable Tucson locals managed to fuse classic Spanish flare, jazz and rock to both create original material and perform popular flamenco covers. I leaned back triumphantly in my desk chair with a broad smile on my face as I scanned the site, their song “Trampoline” happily bouncing out my speakers.

New, innovative music to a college DJ is like tripping over a pot of gold. You could spend hours sifting through the stacks of new CDs and never find something this good. I suppose the best way to describe it is, it just feels right. You get chills down your arms as you push the slider on the control board up to “Max” and hear the song spilling out onto the airwaves. It’s a legal high and the station was essentially paying me at that moment to take a hit. Tesoro was my new favorite drug, in a metaphorical sense of course.

To my dismay, the Web site doesn’t promise any upcoming shows as far as I can tell. I placed a call to Ultragroove Entertainment, Tesoro’s management company, in the hopes of posting the band’s tour schedule here. Sadly, their manager Alan Thomas was unavailable.

In the meantime, check out the Tesoro official Web site or their Myspace page and see what the “high-pe” is all about.

El Guitarrón

2007-09-17T12:41:00.000-07:00

It was Labor Day weekend and my family decided to make the two hour trek down to good ol’ T-Town to see their daughter. I sped down the corridors and burst out the front doors of Kaibab-Huachuca (my dorm) to meet them in the parking lot just outside. Weeks had come and gone since I’d seen them. My mom, in the true spirit of her Italian heritage, hopped down from the GMC Safari, took one look at me and said, ‘You must be hungry. Let’s get some food.”

And so we did.

We headed to El Charro, a restaurant my Mom and I discovered during my freshman orientation nearly four years ago. As we carefully browsed the menu for something that would silence our starving stomachs, I noticed five brightly dressed musicians stream into the crowd of ravenous, munching spectators. There was a flute player, a classical guitarist, two violinists and a woman holding what looked like a cello that was converted into an exceptionally large, and rather bulky, guitar. It was the first time I ever saw a guitarrón and I was fascinated by its sheer size and smooth, rhythmic sounds.

I noticed the instrument, which seemed to function as an acoustic bass guitar, had no frets and a very short neck. Its strings were so taught that I could have sworn they hovered a full inch above the stocky neck. For all the non-musicians out there, that means the guitar has extremely high action. Basically, the higher the action on an instrument, the more pressure your fingers have to exert to press down the strings and make a clean, crisp sound. Translation: lots of bleeding, calloused fingers. My left hand seemed to curl back in pain just watching the woman’s powerful fingers swoop down methodically and pluck the monstrosity hanging from her neck.

(Video Recording of the Song “La Bella Italia” Courtesy of YouTube)

“Now that,” I thought, “is harcore!” I laughed in spite of myself. I’m sure it was the first time in history anyone ever referred to a mariachi five-piece as “hardcore.”

The guitarrón, I later found, literally means “large guitar.” It is in fact fretless and is known for its heavy gauge strings and incredibly high action. The traditional mariachi bands of the 1800s included a harp, according to a Stanford University Web page. Because of the harp’s cumbersome shape, it took two people to move through the streets while the mariachi musicians played. In the 1920s, the groups decided to downsize and replaced the harp with the guitarrón. I suppose, putting it in perspective, the guitarrón isn’t all that bulky. Since then, the guitarrón’s relatively light frame and deep bass range is a staple of the mariachi music scene. For more on this fascinating piece of Mexican history, check out Stanford’s Mariachi Cardenal Web page. You might also browse the Candelas Guitars business Web site, a company that crafts traditional guitarróns by hand. You may not be a musician, but everyone can appreciate a beautifully crafted instrument.

Eric Holland

2007-09-10T09:40:00.000-07:00

My first introduction to Eric Holland’s music and way of life was in a little plastic protector sheet resting on my desk at work. At the time I was interning for the Tucson Citizen’s Calendar and Weekend Plus sections. My current project was to bridge the gaps in geography and music to define the term that would later evolve into this blog, border rock. My editor, Polly Higgins, received the slightly disheveled plastic-protected press package detailing Holland’s latest release “American Inmigrante” in the mail. The enclosed CD had a picture of Holland walking across a patch of lonely desert with his trusty dog and guitar in hand. It was then that she posed the burning question: “What is the difference between border rock and desert rock?” Maybe Holland had the answer. After all, his songs were entirely about the trials and tribulations of the immigrant in what I warmly refer to as “Spanglish.” There was only one way to find out.

Flash forward to a few weeks later.

Holland’s frequent travels to Mexico made him hard to get a hold of, but he was extremely determined to meet. Finally, after phone calls and emails, I was sitting in Gentle Bens, pen and notepad in hand at the first available table nearest the door. Holland agreed to meet me there on his tour route through Tucson.

Holland strode in just as I’d pictured him, relaxed long hair trailing behind his ears, a button up shirt and khakis. He took a seat at my table, ordered a tonic water to take the edge off the heat outside, and was ready to talk.

He spent the last 10 years teaching as an ESL (English as a Second Language) teacher in Mexico after retiring from being a world renown tennis pro. At some point, he explained promptly, your body breaks down and you have to find something else to do. His travels on pro-tennis tours left him tired but also trilingual in English, Spanish and French. Teaching just seemed like the natural way to go. Little did he know his students would become the inspiration for most of his music. As his lyrics go, “tip the sombrero low, feel the sand between your toes, your new life begins in Mexico.”

“I didn’t start writing until this immigration thing came up. There’s a voice for the silent that needs to be out there,” said Holland. “There’s no time to hate we all have belly buttons.”

With influences like Marty Robbins, Joe Ely and the Eagles, Holland’s sound falls somewhere in Tom Petty land with a cloud of dust rising in the background for desert flavor.

“Like Elvis said, ‘it’s all rock and roll.’ I’m just a different subspecies of rock and roll,” Holland said.

Though his sound is familiar, his lyrics are unique heartfelt tales that speak of life torn between two borders. Admittedly categorizing himself as border rock, Holland believes the term encompasses the political realm as much as the musical one.

“The message has to get out there of the people dying in the desert,” he said, attempting to define the term. “And I think of the old ballads of the frontier and corridos.”

In the end, Holland decided trying to delve too deep into a subject that’s too new to define was pointless. Whatever border rock was, I was only inches closer to finding it. I left Gentle Bens with less answers than I’d hoped, but the Eric Holland detour was definitely worth the experience.

For more information on Eric Holland, check out the Web site at http://www.erichollandaz.com.

The Voodoo Glow Skulls Promise To Hypnotize Audiences Again

2007-09-03T12:59:00.001-07:00

It was a hot St. Patrick’s Day at the Mesa Amphitheater in 2007. The crowd was biding it’s time until the moment Flogging Molly would take the stage. Lounging in the unforgiving, sharp desert grass my brother and I watched opening band after opening band and were exponentially disappointed with each stage switch. With the exception of the boisterous Irish folk-punk band The Liar’s Handshake, the openers did little to distract our attention from the blazing sun.

Then, without warning, the lazy sun-soaked crowd rose to its feet and groggily headed toward the stage. The Voodoo Glow Skulls were up next and everyone seemed to awaken from their heat-induced coma. I had never heard of them before and, determined to save my last remaining bit of energy for Flogging Molly, I waited in the grass to see what the commotion was about. The band of brothers Frank, Eddie and Jorge Casillas, Jerry O’Neill, Brodie Johnson and Eric Fazzini took to the stage. The stage security fence was thick with people now. Layers of fans crammed against the chain links looking to catch a glimpse. Suddenly, I knew why. The band’s high powered guitar riffs and brass section blasted out into the amphitheater like a battle cry to ska fans everywhere. It was just the slap in the face my brother and I needed to rise to our feet and cram toward the stage. Their energy was contagious. More and more people flocked to the amp-laden set up. I looked over at my little brother, whose usual concert stance was a furrowed brow and crossed arms, only to find he was head banging and biting his lip with a wide smile.

That was my first memory of the Voodoo Glow Skulls.

"Bulletproof" by the Voodoo Glow Skulls provided by YouTube.
(***WARNING: The introduction to this song contains strong language***)

The ska-core punk band has been building momentum since 1988. Encompassing a wide array of almost contradictory musical elements, the Skulls combine upbeat ska rhythm and horns, heavy guitar, Mexican-American politics and forceful, edgy vocals. Their latest album is set to be released September 18 on Victory Records and has been in the works for nearly a year, according to the band’s official Web site at www.voodooglowskulls.com. The project, entitled “Southern California Street Music,” was largely the brainchild of guitarist Eddie Casillas. Recorded in installments inside Casillas’ Riverside, Calif., home production center Dog Run Studios, the project marks the band’s eighth full-length album. Soon after the launch, the band will set out for yet another exhaustive U.S./European tour.

I highly recommend checking out the show. The Skulls are going on 19 years now, so they must be doing something right.

Their scheduled stops according to the Web site are:
09-15 Simi Valley, CA
Venue: SIMI VALLEY MUSIC FESTIVAL
09-21 Apple Valley, CA
Venue: ANGEL’S ROADHOUSE2
09-22 Riverside, CA
Venue: TREMORS
09-29 Bullhead City, AZ
Venue: CORNFEST
10-01 ALBUQUERQUE, N.M.
Venue: LAUNCHPAD
10-02 Salt Lake City, UT
Venue: AVALON
10-03 Colorado Springs, CO
Venue: BLACK SHEEP
10-04 Oklahoma City, OK
Venue: THE BLUE NOTE
10-05 Tulsa, OK
Venue: MERCURY LOUNGE
10-06 Springfield, MO
Venue: REMINGTON’S
10-08 Chicago, IL
Venue: TBA
10-09 Detroit, MI
Venue: TBA
10-10 Cleveland, OH
Venue: AGORA BALLROOM
10-11 Pittsburgh, PA
Venue: MR. SMALL’S
10-12 Buffalo, NY
Venue: MOHAWK PLACE
10-13 NY, NY
Venue: TBA
10-14 Philadelphia, PA
Venue: TBA
10-15 Portland, MN
Venue: THE STATION
10-16 Hartford, CT
Venue: WEBSTER THEATRE
10-17 Boston, MA
Venue: HARPER’S FERRY
10-18 Albany, NY
Venue: VALENTINE’S
10-19 Syracuse, NY
Venue: CLUB POLSKI
10-20 Baltimore, MD
Venue: OTTO BAR
10-21 Pompton Lakes, NJ
Venue: MAIN STAGE
10-23 FT. Lauderdale, FL
Venue: STUDIO A
10-24 Orlando, FL
Venue: THE SOCIAL
10-25 St. Petersburgh, FL
Venue: STATE THEATRE
10-29 Tempe, AZ
Venue: THE CLUBHOUSE
10-30 San Fran, CA
Venue: BOTTOM OF THE HILL
10-31 Riverside, CA
Venue: ROMANO’S
11-02 Hollywood, CA
Venue: THE KNITTING FACTORY
11-03 Lancaster, CA
Venue: CEDAR CENTER

2007-08-27T12:29:00.000-07:00

Los Kung Fu Monkeys

Don't let the name fool you. This isn't a gang of karate chopping primates. It's ska...Tijuana style.

"It sounds to me just like ska punk," says University of Arizona KAMP Student Radio engineering director Zack Stephens. "I was getting so into it I didn't even realize it was in another language."

The six piece band is comprised of vocalists Bernie and Paco, bassist Hassan and his brother guitarist Tarek, drummer Hecky and keyboardist Esteban. (Their last names were not listed on any of the band's various Web sites and efforts to contact them failed). The fresh outfit of musicians, changed over several times from its humble beginnings in 1998, make an almost seamless transition from the familiar stylings of American ska favorites like Reel Big Fish and Less Than Jake to a hybrid of scratchy vocals and a dash of Mexican culture.

"It sounds like they combined ska from the mid-'90s with the newer version of screamo from today," says UA retail major Jacob Wexler.

Interestingly enough, ska was born under similar cross-bordering conditions. Ska enthusiast, UA history senior and KAMP general manager Karl Goranowski explains,

"The DJs would find really obscure American jazz records and then, after awhile, they started producing their own Jamaican music fusing jazz with local styles," says Goranowski. "Ska punk started as an outgrowth of the second wave ska movement which was in the '70s in England. Operation Ivy was the first to fuse the two."

The band's comprehensive Myspace page features both Spanish and English tracks, attracting fans on both sides of the border.

For more information on Los Kung Fu Monkeys visit their Myspace page at www.myspace.com/loskfm.

You Tube Presents the Los Kung Fu Monkeys:

Striking A Chord

2007-08-22T11:41:00.000-07:00

Is it the place that makes the music or the music that makes the place? Like the chicken and the egg, sometimes it's hard to discern which came first. Border rock is a new term that attempts to categorize the hybrid sound that bridges Hispanic and American culture. This cross-pollination of communities could be the key to unlocking the extent to which the neighboring countries influence the creativity, mentality and political agenda of those inhabitants stuck in limbo between the towering border wall and Safeway's frozen chimichangas. Or...it could, just simply, rock. I'll do the research and you decide.