Romperayo hail from Bogota Colombia, crafting twisted psychedelic cumbia that would sound like authentic tunes straight from some backwater village in the 1970’s if it wasn’t for these periodic synthetic flourishes, that are simultaneously played subtly and absurdly. This is their second LP, their first united several musicians around Pedro Ojeda’s frantic drum style. Que Jue? sees him take the reigns solo, armed with instruments, and samplers to augment his killer upbeat percussion.
There’s something downright cheeky about this music, it’s highly repetitive, like the silliness is being driven into your brain like a sledgehammer. This is earworm music, except the worm is feasting on your brain and expanding until your skull is about to explode. Then you dance.
I must confess. I am totally obsessed with the track ‘Millo y Caja’, with the trumpet sounding like an insistent demented electronic rooster that wont take no for an answer. All the while this jaunty groove continues endlessly underneath. I think the rooster might kill me. Or the tune. But I can’t stop listening to it. That’s what this music does to you.
With its repetitive vocal samples, relentless percussion and cheeky instrumentation it’s impossible not find a smile plastered on your dial as you bounce along to this weirdly jaunty music. The groove is relentless and the humour is perfect. Just be careful of ‘Millo y Caja’. You may loose yourself in there.
