Mano Negra
Puta's Fever

THE REVIEW

I didn't do it on purpose, but a subtle smile appeared on my face the first time I played "Helldorado" by Negrita. An album I actually wore out between April and May, a bit late but hey, these things happen. Anyway, my (apparent) hilarity was born from references so blatant they almost seemed like teasing. It sounded like a Mano Negra album while I was thinking about the tens of listeners convinced of a new original turn by the Florentine group.

Quite different is this "Puta's Fever" - which in slang indicates a sexually transmittable disease - from 1989. I don't want to tell the same old story about Patchanka and how cool Oscar Tramor was before becoming Manu Chao, and how really cool Mano Negra were; also because here what's more worth attention is what you feel in these 40 minutes. The artistic pinnacle in my humble opinion, where all the elements - a characteristic never so spot-on when talking about this ensemble - surface perfectly from the sumptuous dish prepared by our maîtres. First and foremost punk, a third-world assault with edged weapons in Clash-like memory. And from here the streams that temper everything: echoes of Latin American, dub & reggae, psychedelic passages and landscapes. Pop inflections and blues phrasing. A hard rock affinity expressed right from the first beats (Rock n Roll Band). Even a little waltz at the end - El Sur. But above all, beyond the labels, there are great songs. The super famous King Kong Five first and foremost, driven by an epic video. Then Soledad, Peligro (magnificent!), The Devil's Call. But quoting some tracks is doing a disservice to the others, so much good stuff is here, so many tempo changes, so many strong-soft dynamic alternations dear to the Pixies. Each song flows into another and then another, and you always remain on the same track. Everything changes, everything revolves around Santiago Casiriego's incessant beat, a bit on the beat, a bit offbeat. Real tanks. 

Expressive urgency running throughout the album, never an empty beat or a dull moment. A breathless race in search of the purest and most combative spirituality, best represented by the duo Sidi H' Bibi - The Rebel Spell. Here the soul of this great group comes out clear as day, once again stronger than ever.

They sound like monkeys!