Just when you think that every quirky, 70s pop sound in the world has been thoroughly aired and re-packaged, something new comes along to remind us just how deep that well is.  Olivier Conan of Barbes Record was following his ears on a trip to Peru when he came upon old recordings of chicha—a folksy, electric pop genre that grew from the Amazon oil boom in the late 60s.  Chicha is named for ancient Andean drink made from fermented corn.  At its core is a blend of Columbian cumbia and surf rock.  The beats are ambling and pendulous, the guitar work deft and delightful, and the vocal melodies often reminiscent of pentatonic, Andean folklore.  There are dashes of funk, Afro-Cuban tropical percussion and rhythm, and as this compilation’s subtitles suggests, psychedelic rock.

The psychedelic connection has mostly to do with the guitar sounds, which are sometimes distorted or fed through a wah-wah pedal, and the emerging keyboard sounds of the time, notably Moog synthesizer and Farfisa organ.  Unlike South America’s most celebrated “psychedelic” music movement—tropicalia in Brazil—chicha was not a music for intellectual hipsters.  So the consciousness raising aspect of psychedelia does not apply.  Chicha was a low-class, urban sound that got little respect among culture mavens within Peru, and zero exposure outside the country.  Until now.

These 17 tracks are packed with tasty guitar melodies, irresistible vocal hooks, playful grooves and oddball arranging touches, including a bubbling keyboard patch vaguely suggestive of oil percolating up from the ground.  This compilation sticks with the genre’s early years, before keyboard technology swept in to cheapen the sound and rob it of its otherwise timeless charm.  Six groups are featured, each with quirks of its own.  Los Mirlos tops bouncy, mid-tempo grooves with Danny Jhonston’s edgy, surf-riddled guitar melodies.  Juaneco y Su Combo put together sweet pop hooks with chiming guitars, shimmering organ riffs, and an air of irreverent humor, as in the heaving sighs of a young woman on “Vacilando con Ayahuesca.”  Los Destellos rely on Enrique Delgado’s formidable guitar chops to slide between Cuban guajira, Andean folk adaptations, rock, and more—even a cumbia adaptation of Beethoven’s “Für Elise.” 

Los Hijos del Sol offer one of the most adventurous tracks, “Linda Muñequita,” replete with cackling laughter, Andean vocal harmonies, echo chamber production, and that bubbling keyboard patch.  Los Diablos Rojos also push the envelope alternating tropical pump and cumbia lope on one track, and channeling James Brown funk on another.  And Eusebio y su Banjo feeds his banjo through a distorting amplifier to come up with one of the hippest sounds that instrument has ever produced.  All of this adds up to more than just good fun.  There’s a kind of light-hearted authenticity here that wears well. 

This one-of-a-kind collection is an instant classic, putting a new sub-genre on the map and reminding us once again that when it comes to the loopy pleasures of no-holds-barred, hybrid pop, the 70s will be with us for a long time.  Maybe always. 

By: Banning Eyre