Puya’s Fundamental: Metal Mayhem from the Carribean
Discount Bin
January 18, 2010
Internet lore has it that the band name is actually an acronym for the lofty-sounding Puerto Rican Union of Young Artists. They omitted the ‘R’ - it wouldn’t have the same roll-off-the-tongue, glottal effect with it. Also, they’re not an ensemble world music group with a couple dozen members, but a four-piece band with a few rotating sessionists.
The name Puya sounds almost tribal, and the music they make partly is - it’s visceral and spontaneous. What exactly do they play, you may ask. Even that’s intriguing. It’s the bastard offspring of two genres, both poetic and evocative on their own. Under less able hands, the combination would have been a possible fail, but with this band’s group dynamic and individual skills, it’s a musical monster.
The sum-up of their second effort, the MCA Records-backed Fundamental, isn’t awkward or pretentious in any way. Not being
well-versed in the culture, I thought the music sounded like samba + metal, but Wiki says it’s salsa. Even better. Latin music on metal, like piquant salsa (the condiment) on a foreboding Luger steak. Yes, that’s it – metal’s a brute chunk of seared cow shank, salsa is salsa, and I’m sticking with the metaphor. Just as you’d picture such a dish to be, the fusion in Puya’s musical recipe is, dare I say, unexpected, yet organic and totally satisfying on the palate. Even the slightly crude Cavalera-ish English lyrics add more depth and flavor to the listening experience, with the Spanish inflection making more of an impact than the actual words used.
There are no weak tracks in Fundamental, making it difficult to pick my personal favorites. The riffs in album opener ‘Oasis’ are forceful, attenuated with funk-wah guitars, congas, and a grooved-up bassline that unapologetically bursts into full-on metal - a hyperactive mélange of shred and thrash. The eponymous third track reminds me of a faster Tarantino soundtrack pick, with horns, and assorted percussions lending it an updated 70s feel. Again, this gives way to chants and growls in the chorus. Transitions abound, and they do happen seamlessly, giving you songs that sound almost schizophrenic, especially when a song comes to a chaotic, energetic head. The five-minute ‘Solo’ is one song that embodies this method perfectly, porn-groove instrumentation for the first two minutes, heavy-rocking the third minute, and then back to tacks for the remainder.
‘Trinidad’ is an ode to the hometown, probably the soundtrack to which a lot of PR homeboys strut and roll. Again, the guitars are mostly old-school, the distortion at the just-right levels of crunch, and some melodies harken to the heyday of glam. It’s all potent, all effective, a feel-good brew that’s infectious, exotic, with a pervading sense of sultriness. I divine that most of the album’s offerings follow the aforementioned formula, with the exception of acoustic surf-rock rap experiment ‘Keep it Simple,’ an uncharacteristic chillout track, if you will, that’s better with piñacoladason the beach than tequila shots and a divebar moshpit. So cool, it lends itself to contemplation.
Puya’s lyrics aren’t, by any means, groundbreaking or mind-altering, but the way they approach songmaking is. The elaborate layering of instruments in the song arrangements is the star, and I reckon that the singing/rapping’s relegated to the background, just a marker to help keep in tune and in time. Download, rip, or steal this album if you can find it – now a decade-old release that still sounds as fresh and as relevant as the year it came into being. This album (and the follow-up, Union) didn’t even blip on the international music radar, but you might enjoy it more knowing that not a lot of people know about them, you snob you. For any music fan worth his salt, get this for yourself, and for friends you wouldn’t mind sharing the love with. ‘Sal pa fuera, coño,’ and pick it up posthaste, ‘cause ‘esto es, Fundamental.’
