Receive Weekly Email and Text Message Updates:
Sign up for latest info on concerts, dining, promotions and more!
Go!

Related Stories ...

Reader's Picks

Top Recommendations

A short list of Orange County's most popular hot spots.
user content provided by: LikeMe.net & OC Weekly

National Features >

  • City Pages

    Michele Bachmann, Unmuzzled

    You don't need to read Sarah Palin's book to hear the ravings of a mad woman.

    By Matt Snyders

  • Miami New Times

    Pimp Daddy

    The rise and fall of a chubby sex-cult leader.

    By Natalie O'Neill

  • Riverfront Times

    Babe 'n' Arms

    Tom was a hot-tempered cross-dresser with a garage full of guns--and then he became Rachel.

    By Nicholas Phillips

  • Dallas Observer

    The Fight for Texas

    Rick Perry and Kay Bailey Hutchison are locked in a battle over the soul of the GOP. They're also running for governor.

    By Sam Merten

Be Social

  • rss

Control Machete

Gustavo Arellano

Published on November 27, 2003

Control Machete
Uno, Dos: Bandera
Universal

Back after a four-year hiatus minus leader Fermin IV, but with menace intact, Mexican rappers Control Machete are at their bitter best with Uno, Dos: Bandera, a dystopic spin that should soon be booming out of a souped-up Yukon near you. Previous obsessions of the Monterrey, Mexico, Latin rap avatars persist—the dueling rapid-fire growls of Toy Hernández and Pato Chapa, smoggy beats unafraid of using traditional Latin American instruments like marimbas, congas and tubas to ominous effect, and songs unapologetic in attacking what ails Mexican society. But now there are fiesta-worthy jams not bogged down by political gravitas—just raise your hands along the Bootsy-funky party-starter "Bien, Bien" and its smirking mariachi horns fading in and out of spleen-disintegrating drum beats. Remarkably, Uno, Dos: Bandera hearkens back to traditional Mexican ranchera by celebrating life while simultaneously showing there's little worth extolling, as Control Machete trade off with a slew of guest singers to help them commemorate the false-consciousness euphoria experienced by the working class. Molotov drummer Randy Ebright, for example, raps about the carpe diem mentality necessary for the survival of the poor on the reggae/banda boast "Ahora." Mexican ingénue Natalia Lafourcade, meanwhile, forsakes her pleasing pop to add sultry snaps on "El Apostador" ("The Gambler"), which is not the Kenny Rogers yodel, but rather a brilliant critique against unscrupulous casinos where patrons "find themselves without money anew." And Blanquito Man of King Changó contributes timely toasts to Control Machete's cover of the Los Fabulosos Cadillacs classic "El Genio del Dub," an ode praising music's ability to melt away the world's worries through jittery beats.