BABASÓNICOS
JESSICO
DELANUCA RECORDS
It's de rigueur nowadays for Argentine bands to explicitly condemn their country's corrupt political regimes, and Babasónicos' latest album, Jessico, is no different. But this sextet takes an atypical approach to that never-tiresome cliché, moving past explicit critiques of government policy to examine the psyche of a wounded Argentina. Recorded right before last year's economic meltdown, Jessico paints a bleak picture of a country swarming with one-night-stand-seeking women (“Los Calientes”), burnt-out rock critics (“Camarín,” which someone should staple to Robert Hilburn's ears), and—in one of the most memorable lines in recent memory—a “fragile, temperamental god who/instead of praying for me/went to dance at the disco” (“El Loco”). Give Babasónicos credit for not letting doom-and-gloom dominate the album, though: lead singer/songwriter's Adrián Rodríguez's smartly caustic libretto and distinctive musical style (best described as electric gaucho rock) liven things up nicely. Beefed up with thumping dance beats, swirling vocals and the twangiest guitars this side of a Black Angus commercial, Jessico becomes intensely (but not annoyingly) catchy. And as a counterpoint to this swaggering syncopation, Babasónicos weave in earnest and anguished ballads, the best being the weirdly romantic “Fizz,” a neo-'50s tune about Argentines' continuing emigration from their once-grand country to places unknown. It's moments like that that make Jessico one of those rare albums—one with political overtones that ring just as beautifully as the music itself. (Gustavo Arellano)
