review del Newsday de Nueva York

Turning up the heat on the Mexican border


Ed Morales

July 31, 2005

Tijuana's Nortec Collective is a loose confederation of DJs that has created a dance-club sound capturing the sensibility of the notorious border town. "Some people call it the happiest place on earth/Others say it's a dangerous place/ It's been the city of sin/But you know I don't care," go the lyrics of "Tijuana Makes Me Happy" from the new album "Tijuana Sessions Vol. 3" (Nacional Records). The use of lyrics on this mostly instrumental record hints at Nortec's desire to create a soundtrack that will make you remember TJ in your dreams.

Nortec Collective consists of the DJs Bostitch (Ramón Amezcua), Clorofila (Jorge Verdín), Fussible (Pepe Mogt), Hiperboreal (PG Beas) and Panóptica (Roberto A. Mendoza). Their first densely layered dance-music album, "Tijuana Sessions, Vol. 1" appeared in 2001. "Vol. 3" is actually their second album, the title being a joke on collectors who will wonder about a "missing" Vol. 2.

"There's a lot more humor than on the first album, a little more rubber around the edges, if you know what I mean," said Verdín, who appears on four tracks on the compilation. "Vol. 3" is slightly less concerned with dance rhythms, trading on a more ambient, evocative tone. As the curiously subversive sound of the tuba section (lifted from the northern Mexican dance genre known as banda) mixes with more familiar dub and hip-hop breakbeats, the record becomes an invitation to an endless, somnambulant Tijuana club crawl.

"Having live musicians changed the sound quite a bit," Verdín said. "We were able to actually write melodies, which gave us a lot more texture and detail." Borrowed from local banda outfits, players such as percussionist Willy Negrón, clarinetist Ramón Ontiveros and trumpet player Jorge González give tunes such as "Dandy del Sur" a visceral anchor to the spiraling surrealism created by the DJs.

"The track I did with Panóptica is what a gay bar for narcotraffickers would sound like," Verdín said, referring to "Narcotéque." Describing "Funky Tamazula," Verdín conjures up a scenario in which "you're wandering around a strip bar at three in the morning and you can't find your car keys." On "Vol. 3" you can feel the subtle undercurrent of muffled cumbias playing off the steady pulse of electronic loops that signal a night of edgy fun. Every progressive DJ's old friend, the dub beat, lurks continuously - its quirky rhythmic pulse constructing rare grooves for a world of tacky delirium.

But almost out of nowhere, Clorofila and Panóptica achieve a bona fide epiphany on "Olvídela Compa," a song about forgetting a lost love. The fluttering accordion gives the track just the right Mexican feel, right down to the last teary tequila-stained note.

You can dance to "Tijuana Sessions Vol. 3," but the album stands on its own as great pop music for uncertain times, and might become one of your favorites of the summer