Summertime and the Records are Easy
Summertime and the Records are Easy
The Seekers of Sound
According to the people who make calendars, summer starts on June 21st, but we all know Memorial Day Weekend is the unofficial start of Summertime. In NYC, beaches open up for swimming, outside parties begin in earnest and the smell of rosé mists out of every sidewalk table. Back when I still partook of the merry spirit, this was by far my favorite drinking holiday. For many years I would go out dressed in whites and brights from head to toe, looking for the best outdoor, rooftop, hudson river parties and bars. I would dance at the old Frying Pan, when you could still party inside the boat, or end up in the Sullivan Room or Bembe and surrounding bars. I spent the day drinking at Tatiana’s on the Brighton Beach boardwalk or catching an early movie by the Brookfield Marina. For a few years this weekend served as an annual getaway to my friend’s cabin near a lake in Easthampton Massachusetts, where we’d grill, listen to music, and take down several handles of Flor De Caña Rum.
But with all the “fun” came many Tuesday morning hangovers complete with cuts, bruises and a couple of times, a sprained foot. For all the so called good times, there were also many moments of pure cringe, when the drink got ahead of me and I lost any sense I had left. I blacked out most of the bad times, but every once in a while a memory hits me like a bullet and I get lightheaded and nauseous from the shame. I might miss the party, but I don’t ever miss the next day and the regret. I guess that’s the good that came out of my drying up during lockdown. I’ve written about some of this in the Champions of Chill, but Summer of 2020 was the first of several long dry spells until I gave it up for good. That Memorial Day Weekend we went to Brighton and just sat on the Boardwalk with a speaker and enjoyed the beach. It was the start of a new kind of summertime. The beach was now more than nutcrackers and coronas. The beach was a salty sunny refuge from the apartment and what felt like a crumbling world. The albums that got me through those months were a lighthouse in a storm, that steered me through some really choppy water. I’ve already written of my love of Mordechai by Khruangbin that summer, so today is all about Buscabulla’s Regresa in the ongoing saga of my favorite Covid-time albums.
I’d already heard Buscabulla by then. I found their 2017 EP II, listening to podcasts, but when their first full album Regresa was released in May 8th 2020, I approached them with renewed interest and got the album as fast as they could ship it. On the same day it was released, there was a great interview on Radio Menea with Raquel Berrios who is one half of the duo. Raquel and Luis Alfredo Del Valle are a married couple who were both born in Puerto Rico, but met in New York City and were based in Brooklyn for six years before moving back to PR after hurricane Maria, which all inspired Regresa, the Spanish word for “return”. What they created is a deep electro tapestry of sounds from all over their lives. When I listen to it I swear I can feel the wind racing over the Caribbean sea crashing onto their beaches. I can smell the coconut pulp thick and fresh on sun filled hands holding the cracked halves, mouths wet with water of life. These sounds, and emotions made me want to return, except I wouldn’t really be returning because I was born in NY, but in this body is the memory of an Island that always surfaces with a foreign type of melancholy. To slightly bend the words of Peña Suazo of La Banda Gorda, Yo soy de aqui, pero mi mente esta alla (I’m from here, but my mind is over there). But I’m all of it, the NY, the DR and all that I’ve learned in between.
The idea of a return is so interesting to me. Being from somewhere, leaving for a significant amount of time and one day returning. What you find is never the same, because the world doesn’t ever wait for you to catch up. But some things are still intact, and they’re right there beckoning for you to affix them once again to your lexicon. The old can go from new to remembered to normal in an impressive amount of time, and the sounds in this album reflect that perfectly. You never leave behind the lessons you learned abroad, and neither does this album. The entire complicated mix of things are here for us to enjoy. It’s time to get into these songs and for me to share the wonder I see in them. On this Memorial Day, your Monday morning record is Regresa by Buscabulla.
Lado A
Vámono
Vámono translates to “Let’s Go”, and that’s what this song does to you. Grabs you by the hand with a layered syncopated synth beat and a soothing voice that guides you into a world of lush island jungles. Raquel’s voice is so steady in its resolve over the hurried batucada like beats, they can easily get you dancing into a parade or laying you in a hammock and just wash over you. This song is an opening ceremony for the carnival to come.
La Fiebre
“The Fever” is a shorty of a song, coming in a minute and ten seconds. Don’t let the length full you, because this song is so full of life. The way her voice bends over the beat reminds me of Differences by Ginuwine, mixed with some Aaliyah’s One in a Million, and maybe some UK Garage. The baseline feels like it’s from a Maxwell album. This is one of my favorite ear worms in the album and I often listen to it a couple of times back to back..
El Aprieto
“The Squeeze”, is a song about needing to leave. You can’t return without leaving something else behind, and sometimes what you're leaving is squeezing the life out of you. This beat feels a bit more tropical industrial in a very measured way. It’s a shaky bouncy vibe.
Club Tú y Yo
“Club You and I”, is one of the songs I love singing to my non-spanish speaking spouse. I always try to explain how this song makes me feel so connected to her. I often joke that we live in our own little world, which was especially true in 2020. At some point we thought all that time together would lead to our insanity, but it really managed to connect us in a way we still hadn't found. This song is all about escaping to a club where two can be alone and sway and dance and be forever. The melody and sound remind me of a song Cruz de Navajas (crosses of knives) by Spanish 80’s pop group Mecano. Themes and topic are very different but they both have this intimate calming quality to them.
Mío
“Mine” is a claiming song. Kinda like Loretta Lynn’s Fist City or Beyoncé’s Jolene but not nearly as menacing. It follows the calmer vibe of the previous song but has a bit more bite to it and softly bursts into a subtle type of cha cha like beat.
NTE
NTE stands for “No Te Equivoques” or “Don't Get It Wrong”, which sometimes you just gotta let people know. This is a funky, disco, drummy song with attitude. The drums sound like some magical goat skin stretched a hollow beat machine. When this song ends, I’m always sad that the first side went so quickly. I usually play the first side over again, or sometimes just this last song, or the last three. I always want more.
Lado B
Manda Fuego 03:22
“Send Fire” is a quiet storm type of song. The fire it’s asking for is the biblical kind. Send fire lord cause the devil is running loose. I’m not sure how religious it is, as the phrase is often used in some Latin American countries as a plea for relief. The sound is smooth and jazzy and neo soul-ly, and funky and the drum beat reminds me of the one from Toto’s Africa.
No Sabemos
“We Don’t know” has a 90’s hip hop/ hip hop R&B vibe to it. Maybe something from So So Def with some airy synths. Feels like strutting on clouds, like a summertime daydream.
Nydia
Nydia is someone’s name. This song feels like Breathe by Télépopmusik, which you may remember from that Mitsubishi commercial that the Chappelle Show parodied except that It feels fuller and not as muted. I don’t really ride in cars that often but it reminds me of calm summertime windows down driving down the coast. Chill dance music at its absolute best. The bassline here gets inside my glutes and bounces me from to and fro in my seat.
Volta
I don’t know what Volta means but it could be a slang way of saying “vuelta” which means turn. This is another short song coming in at a minute and thirty seconds. It has an ambient sound that fills the room.
Ta Que Tiembla
“It’s giving Tremble” is a very loose translation. This Night is at the point it trembles. It reminds me a little of sounds from the album Pink Noise by Laura Mvula, a record featured soon on a Sunday morning near you. Steady overarching beat with some sub beats underneath building on each other. It signals the end of an album I just don’t want to ever finish. This song can easily be played three or four times before I’m fully ready to let go of the album and move on to the next. It’s a very pre-party, getting ready to real-party kinda song. Makes me ready to move all over again. A bit of tease, this song played here, as we’re on our way out. It’s that song that starts to play just as you’re ready to leave the party, that pulls you back in. Ta Que Teimbla indeed.
And there goes another great long weekend and another great record for Sunday mornings. Thanks for joining me this week, and I hope you’re locked in, because the next month is going to be hot, both outside and right here at Sunday Morning Records. Goodbye and have a wonderful week, cause summertime is unofficially here!
