If you still have a CD collection, take it all up in your arms and throw it all out your window. Coconut Rock replaces all that. Adrian Quesada, bandleader of Grupo Fantasma, and Martin Perna, founder of Antibalas, have defined what I call downtempo music, as a genre. Stripped to the bones, this is afrobeat, Latin funk, psychedelic rock and every other band that sounds like they're on the Eighteenth Street Lounge label.

1. The Revolt of the Cockroach People
2. Coconut Rock
3. El Diablo y El ñAu ñAu
4. Tu Fin, Mi Comienzo
5. Vendende Saude E Fé
6. Tres Ratas
7. Pan, Chamba Y Techo
8. Vampires
9. Return of the Freak
10. Cara de yo ne fui
11. Prince of Peace

Coconut Rock is somehow the third album these guys have collaborated on at ESL; the other two are fairly amazing by themselves. Ocote began as a chance collaboration over a bio-fuel breakdown in south Texas, but this album is refined, orchestrated genius. Like the 27 ingredients in a perfect mole sauce, every single ingredient adds complexity in perfect proportion. There are seven band members, give or take collaborators, but they gather musical ingredients and sounds from every corner of our big blue space marble.

So, let’s begin with some Latin breakbeats. The first song, "Revolt of the Cockroach People" is named after a book by Chicano rights activist and psychedelic cowboy author Oscar Zeta Acosta. This has Adrian Quesada's other, other side project "Brownout" written all over it. That's not a bad thing. Softly begins "Coconut Rock", a grand anthem for Afro/Latin/Global Funk. Glistening keyboards and a mass of percussion shimmers over some serious funky drumming.

“El Diablo y el Ñau Ñau” features the dark lyrics of Chico Mann (Marcos García of Antibalas). Apparently, it's written as a Cuban children’s rhyme about the bogeyman. The vocals echo distortedly through a distant closet door, which has been transported to the early 80's by some twisted Latin synths. Then, like a Mexican rasta staring down an African gangster in a 70's grindhouse, "Tu FiN, Mi Gomienzo" spits haunting Afro/Latin keys and filthy psychedelic rock guitar riffs over a driving cumbia bounce. Yea. You like that idea. You won't be let down. And if there aren't already, I demand remixes of this.

“Vendendo Saude E Fé” (“Selling Health and Faith,” a Brazilian folk expression of hope and optimism) features the long-distance collaborator and buttered tones of Brazilian vocalist Tita Lima. Ultra smooth, chilled-out ESL sounds meet Brazil and are complemented by compression fuzzed rock guitar. This track will perform as a finessed transition between mellow Thievery style tracks and the much heavier sounds of real African music or classic Brazilian soul and funk. And that's pretty much the track-list for primo downtempo mixing, in my opinion.

"Tres Ratas" brings the same breezy ESL chill-out sound, only the keyboards bring a completely new scent, wafting from across the Atlantic, from Africa to you. I'd like to hear more polyrhythms in my quiet music, actually.

"Pan, Chamba Y Techo" is perfect Afrobeat. But then it found Dad's acid stashed away after some 70's rock concert. It has the chants, bari-sax and keys straight from Afrobeat heaven, and floating across the surface you'll find funky flutes, fuzzy guitar and polyrhythmic drums. Oh yea. You knew it had to be political. It calls for the basic necessities—bread, work, a roof, and water—“the basic human rights all governments should provide,” Quesada notes.

Upping the "piss other people off" quota, "Vampires" is a critique of capitalism inspired by the shocking greed and gentrification of Martin Perna's Brooklyn neighborhood in the shadow of 9/11. Apparently he's been working on this track for years, but it's debut as a beautifully delicate polyrhythmic folk dance is truly remarkable. Mellow and compelling.

"Return Of The Freak" is a crate-diggers wet dream, delivering a Latin funk rhythm from outer space that is barely able to encapsulate a guitar lick sicker than Carlos Santana has ever dreamed about on his best Peyote trip. These guys own 70's rock too. So replace that soft spot of commercial Latin oldies with this freshness. Starting... now.

"Cara De Yo No Fui" smokes this album out, and starts to visit some haunting spy-music melodies. It also drops that last shoe, downtempo Latin jazz.

The final song reminds us that Ocote can take us anywhere. Apparently “Prince of Peace” is all about “a messiah coming back to town looking like Sun Ra, with this giant raucous marching band strutting down the streets. The sound digs under your skin, like good Afrobeat, or a funeral march in New Orleans. Take it as a warning, Ocote Soul Sounds has only begun to shape what we see. And you should go check out the biography of this band. Amazing reading all on its own (bio-fuel breakdown, etc.).

~ DJ Memo

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