[Friday Playlist] Late '60s Peruvian Rock n' Roll

text by Adam Lehrer

Sometimes the circumstances in which music was made amplifies the effect of the music itself. Case in point: the rock n' roll coming out of Peru in the late '60s and through the early '70s. Rock n' roll hit Peru like a thunderbolt in 1957 with the country's youth finding themselves captivated by the music of Elvis Presley. Buddy Holly, and Bill Haley. Peru's indisputable first rock band, Los Millinarios de Jazz, formed that same year and birthed a movement.

It was in the late '60s however, psychedelia's peak years, that the rock bands of Peru found their most scorching  sounds. The Peruvian rock bands of that time still sound utterly fresh. This could be for a couple reasons. For one, rock music's interest in mysticism was at an all time high with psychedelic rock, but Peruvian bands by virtue of geography already had a more direct connection to mind expansion and spirituality. Traffic Sound, a Peruvian rock band that used a flute way better than Jethro Tull ever would, found a fan in Mick Jagger who invited the band to open for The Stones in 1969. Meanwhile, Black Sugar employed big band swing, salsa-inflected rhythm patterns, wah-wah heavy guitars, and a blissfully communal sound that created a political funk most in line with American bands like Sly & The Family Stone.

But also, rock music at its best is supposed to be anti-establishment, and the Peruvian bands had much to rage against. Juan Francisco Velasco Alvarao, a communist military general, took control of the country in 1968. Though his ideals were in many ways idealistic, as he hoped to restore the power to the working power, he also completely obliterated personal expression. At first, Peruvian rock bands could not be silenced. For testament to that notion, listen to Los Saicos. Los Saicos took elements of garage rock, psych, and surf and created an aggressively political rock assault that is often considered to be a forebear of punk rock, similar in sound to The Sonics. Eventually rock music would find itself smothered out of popular culture in Peru, but by the '80s a fertile underground of punk rock and later death metal bands would re-emerge, bringing attention back to the country.

Side note: I would like to thank the excellent Spanish record label Munster Records for introducing me to Los Saicos and as a result, Peruvian rock n' roll all together. 
Β 

[AUTRE PLAYLIST] Motorcity Soul Rebels

Text by Adam Lehrer

Whenever I get the proverbial gun to the head and am asked if I could only listen to one genre of music forever, I go with soul and funk. Why? Because it's everything: amazing lyrics, amazing singing, political, emotional, makes you dance, makes you cry, makes you sex.

Motown Records in the '60s and '70s was a supercharged inferno of creativity. For every icon there's an under-praised equally deserving hero. For every Diana Ross, there's a Gladys Knight. I mean, FUCK, Gladys Knight, the power of that voice pre-dated the energy of punk and the heartbreaking candor of R&B.

You get guys like Stevie Wonder (my undeniable number one all-time favorite artist) and Marvin Gaye, and Jr. Walker all swinging to the music, fighting the power, and making beautiful jams under one roof. Now, that would be like Kanye, BeyoncΓ©, and Frank Ocean all in the same studio at the same time with a unified front of hope and glory. That was Motown Records. It was a movement. There are no corporate labels like it and there never will be again. Something like that honestly can't exist. People don't love music in the same way that they did in those days.

Lots of people start thinking that MDMA came into popular recreational use during the days of Detroit Techno and Chicago House, but there are rumors that Temptations producer Norman Whitfield was copping love fizz since 1971. That makes total sense. Any fan of Motown would agree that all of those records have a physical buzz that just floods your body, pulsates within it. I'm an electronic music fan, but I can honestly say no music feels like Motown.