Top 20 #20: Ozomatli

Ozomatli kept dancing around the edge of my... I don't know where this metaphor is going. Let's try this again.

There were several instances when I heard of Ozomatli before I finally heard them. My first exposure to them was the 2000 Democratic National Convention protest. Later, I remember an article about them. It wasn't until I started listening to their music that I realized I'd been hearing their music since I'd moved to L.A.

In 2004, I was formally introduced to Ozomatli's music when I was involved in organizing with the anti-war movement. For Angeleno organizers in that era, Rage Against the Machine and Ozomatli were pretty much the soundtrack to everything we did.

Ozomatli gets #20 on the list for two reasons. First, they represent Los Angeles to me: Their music feels like someone recorded this city and put it on an album. I can't really explain it unless you've lived here for a while, but if you have, you'll probably get it. When I'm outside of L.A. and I put an Ozomatli album on, I feel like I'm here. They've somehow managed to capture what it's like to live in this city: the heat, the palm trees, traffic, smog, tacos, the heavy Latin music and hip-hop influences, the backyard party vibe -- it's all part of living here.

Second, Ozomatli expanded my interests beyond the punk and metal (and the little bit of reggae) I grew up listening to. They were a band that was more about good vibes and dancing than anything else, and it opened up new worlds for me. Not just in terms of new styles of music that I found I enjoyed, but in terms of subject matter as well. I had loved music that was about anger, angst, and depression as a teenager, and in Ozomatli's music, I discovered that there were experiences beyond that. I found myself spending less time brooding and writing angry songs, and spending more time in the fresh air, writing songs about life and love that weren't so pessimistic. Ozomatli could write a song about a subject matter like heartbreak or death, but there was always that note of optimism in it, like "Yeah, shitty things happen, but there's no reason to spend your whole life obsessed with it. Let's dance and get it all out."

So, here's to #20 on the list. Let's grab some tacos and some beers and crank up the Ozomatli.

(I swear there is another video for Eva that I've seen that I like better than this one. If anyone reading this knows if that's the case, kindly direct me to it. Thanks.)

Music Top 20 Special Spot: Metallica

To get back into this blogging thing, I'm going to kick it off with a Top 20 of artists that have either had a big impact on me, or that I really just love listening to. I want to try to stick to a "least influential to most influential" setup, but the standings are kind of fluid; on some days I'm feeling certain artists more than others.

The first entry is a special mention for Metallica. When I had the idea to do this, I knew immediately that Metallica was going to be on this list. When I got down to it, though, I kept shifting them around. Should they be #1? Should they be lower, say #10, right in the meaty middle? Lower than 10?

The problem with finding a place for them is that they are the reason I play music. The Beatles might have been the first band I was ever into, but Metallica was the band that made me sit up and go "I want to figure out how to do that." Nowadays, little of the stuff I write or play sounds like Metallica, but I wouldn't be writing or playing if it wasn't for them. That's why I have such a tough time finding a place for them, and why I have to create a special ranking outside of the list. After all, they are the only reason this list exists.

I believe the first Metallica song I ever heard was "King Nothing" (not very metal, I know.) Given how massive it was, I might have heard something off the Black Album when I was younger, but I don't remember it if I do. What I do remember is hearing that weird octave effect, with the slow hi-hat, then the bass line, and the guitar hinting that something big was coming. 12 year old me thought it was the coolest thing ever. Hell, I still listen to it and think it's a killer song. That James Hetfield "huh" in the middle of the guitar solo before Kirk starts wailing gets me every time.

Metallica led me into heavy music and other bands, but I always circled around back to them. I still find myself going back to their albums at least once a year, even if I haven't played metal or hard rock in almost a decade. It's crazy. 

They also got me to read H.P. Lovecraft, and although I have to grit my teeth and skip over his rants about racial purity, I still love his writing. I'm embedding a sped-up version of "The Thing That Should Not Be", because I think it works better at this speed than the album speed. I thought this song was sick before I read any H.P. Lovecraft. Once I understood the references in the song, I realized how much cooler it was.

Metallica's output has been spotty since the beginning of the Millennium. I think that, combined with playing in metal and hard rock bands and being like "wow, this scene is really racist and misogynist", is what led me away from heavier music and into lighter stuff. However, at the end of the day, they're the reason I play.

That's why they get a special spot on the list, and in my beating folk guitarist heart.

First Post...

This blog has been totally inactive for a couple years. I got rid
of all the old posts, and I'm going to try to be better about posting
once a week from now on. This is a half-assed post to get the ball
rolling.




I've been listening to Flavia Coelho's Mundo Meu almost non-stop for close to a year now. I heard this song on KXLU's Brazilian Hour and loved it immediately.

It took a couple listens for the album to grow on me, but once it did, I
loved it. She manages to convey this very endearing vulnerability while
balancing it out with some scathing social commentary. I've been trying
to do that with music for years, but Flavia does it much better.