Nortec en el New York Times:

Reseña aparecida hoy en el periòdico New York Times, en la columna de crìtica musical de nombre, Critic's Choice:


New CD's

By JON PARELES
Published: July 25, 2005

The annual Latin Alternative Music Conference returns to New York City on Aug. 3 through 6, gathering musicians and music-business figures who want the world to know about the sly, smart, joyfully polymorphous and culturally savvy rock and pop being made across the Americas. But there's no need to wait even that long. Albums being released tomorrow by Yerba Buena, from New York City, and Nortec Collective, from Tijuana, make the most of every border crossing.



Tijuana Sessions Vol. 3
Nortec Collective

Nortec Collective coalesced in Tijuana at the end of the 20th century as an alliance of music producers and visual artists. In sounds and images, they collage local traditions and modern abilities. On the musical side, that means treating the norteño music of the Mexican border - with its accordions and brass-band oompah - with the computer technology of sampling, looping and layering. Their first album, "The Tijuana Sessions Vol. 1," came out in 2001, and they have been busy in between on tour and as remixers. They skipped a volume number for the follow-up, "Tijuana Sessions Vol. 3" (Nacional).

The collective has stayed together for "Vol. 3," and the producers Bostich, Fussible, Panóptica, Hiperboreal and Clorofila are just different enough to keep the music diverse. They shift the proportions of old and new, electronic and down-home, in every track. It sounds as if they have newer equipment this time around, and they also hire musicians where they used to sample old recordings.

And while Nortec's strategies are no longer the revelation they were on their debut album, the possibilities are far from exhausted. Their most blatant try at crossover, Fussible's "Tijuana Makes Me Happy," is a full-fledged song with English lyrics, and it's the only track that falls flat. Nortec Collective's gift is for building tracks, not pop songs with lyrics.

The album cuts may start as punning titles - "Narcotéque," "Tijuana Bass" - but unlike much dance music, they keep on developing as they go, never resting on a single juxtaposition of sample and beat. They don't overstay, either; the album includes 15 tracks in 48 minutes. Clorofila and Panóptica's "Narcotéque" gets its bass riff from a tuba, adds hovering piano chords out of down-tempo club music and punctuates with norteño drumming, bits of trumpet, cackling synthesizer and overdubbed clarinets that suggest Steve Reich.

In "Narcotéque" and over the album's second half, something new emerges: an undercurrent of minor-key melancholy under the wry juxtapositions, as if the tracks are uncertain that the local culture they prize can survive the homogenizing pressures of modernity. There's no immediate danger of that; Mexican regional music is the best-selling Latin music in the United States. But Nortec Collective's music gives the old sounds some long-term insurance: it makes them cool.