If I was a real Johnny Comelately with 80s music, I can’t fathom which expression I could use to express how late I was to latin american music. Although I’ve mentioned Control Machete being the first Spanish album I bought, Rey Azúcar by Los Fabulosos Cadillacs was possibly the first one I heard in its entirety. If we don’t count Crí Crí, Los Pitufos con el Padre Abraham, and Disney albums, of course.

My friend Julio won a copy of Rey Azúcar at a raffle and lent it to me after he got bored with it. I knew Matador and Manuel Santillán el León from heavy exposure on MTV Latino, circa the same time Mano Negra, Aterciopelados, and Babasónicos were doing the rounds. It was weird, if you look at it in retrospective, how I got more into bands in spanish that weren’t from Mexico before starting my journey into Mexico’s own scene. Strange, ah? In fairness, I was never a fan of Caifanes or Maná, who were ubiquitous at the time. Just wasn’t my kinda nasty.

As I finished Rey Azúcar, I kept coming back to two tracks: Mal Bicho, as it felt like a spiritual successor to Matador, and the cover of Strawberry Fields forever (!) with Debbie Harry (!!). The album had genres that I really never paid attention to, and it felt bold to mix punk sensibilities with latin american rhythms. And when I say “latin american”, we all know I’m talking about afrocuban music and its roots on slavery.

Mal bicho perfectly describes the kind of person that only wants power, without ever thinking about the consequences or the trail of damage it will leave on its path. It’s an indictment, a truly powerful song that both protests and makes you sway with its infectious groove. Social commentary on par with R.E.M.? Count me in.

I went through a salsa phase a little after, but didn’t find much joy on the genre. I don’t mean it’s not good music, I simply couldn’t connect, just like I can’t connect with most metal and reggaeton. The genre melting Rey Azúcar was what I needed, and hey, any album that makes you read Galeano is good, right?

As I type this, I remember my first night in Mazatlán, at an icebreaker event for a convention I went to. It was a private event at Valetino’s, open bar, all of us aged between 19 and 25, ready to have a good time. I didn’t. Back then, I fancied a woman called Vanessa, and although we ended up being good friends for a while, life took us on divergent paths. We’ve met again a few times, but last time was an online chat, and I understood things were over. That’s okay, I guess. That trip inspired me to write a novel, and before I self-published it, I ran some details with her over burgers at Chazz, a popular 80s chain in Mexico. She even suggested what name I should use for her book doppelgänger. The Valentino’s stuff never bothered her at all and it just was a misunderstanding. Still, I felt like a mal bicho for a while. Better talk with people and clear your mind out, right?

-Sam J. Valdés López