Summer music festivals can be overwhelming for a number of reasons—overlapping set times, endless water/beer/Porta-John lines, and lack of shade—but what could be more daunting than also being completely unfamiliar with the sounds you're hearing? Fortunately, if you're one of the many clueless gringos attending this weekend's Pachanga Latino Music Festival, you don't have to pop a Xanax (unless you want to) because Adrian Quesada is here to help. Best known for his guitar work in Prince-backing Latin-funk collective Grupo Fantasma, Quesada will play Pachanga as part of the Fantasma spin-off Brownout, as well as the spaced-out Ocote Soul Sounds. For those who don't know their cumbia from cumin, Decider spoke with Quesada about what's worth seeing at the festival and asked him where those with Pachanga-piqued curiosities should look for further study.

Decider: Is Pachanga a good place to start for someone who's looking to get into Latin music?

Adrian Quesada: It covers a fair amount of ground, and it's still growing in terms of bringing national and international acts. In a good way, it's still based in a lot of local music, but it definitely runs the gamut.  

D: Who are you looking forward to seeing?

AQ: Charanga Cakewalk is always good live. I really like what Maneja Beto does. They take the cumbia rhythm and some traditional Mexican rhythms and update it. It's somewhat indie and somewhat pop. When they first started, they were mainly playing cumbias, but as they grew, they turned into a band that created their own sound. They're into bands that most people wouldn't even think they're into. I've heard them cover The Cure. They're into The Smiths—things like that. But at the same time, they try to keep one foot planted in Latin music.

D: Cumbia comes up a lot in articles about Grupo Fantasma, and it seems like a lot of Pachanga artists draw from that style. Can you explain the appeal of cumbia?

AQ: It's Afro-Colombian music that's enjoyed a pretty big resurgence within the last 10 years, especially with the hipper set and DJs. I think one of the reasons people like it so much as an entry point into Latin music is that salsa and some of the other stuff can be a little bit intimidating to try to enjoy, because it goes hand in hand with dancing, where you show up to watch a show and there's amazing dancers. It can be intimidating to get into a show and not know how to dance like that. Cumbia has always been something you can shuffle back and forth to, or even not dance at all.  

D: Is that intimidation factor something that usually keeps people away from Latin music?

AQ: I think people associate salsa—and lump in all Latin music with that—with flashy dancers in the hot, sweaty clubs, but originally the music was as raw and aggressive as anything that was happening in the late '60s, as far as the energy of rock 'n' roll.

D: What's a good entry point for traditional cumbia?

AQ: There's a ton of compilations that are easy to find. I grew up in South Texas, and South Texas and Mexico have their own interpretation of cumbia music, [which is] mostly accordion-based. What expanded my view of it and got me into trying to interpret it the way we do was the label Discos Fuentes, and they have a few compilations that showcase what they were doing in the '60s. They call the '50s and '60s "the golden age of cumbia." The bands were mainly mini-orchestras, and in the '60s and '70s, bands started trying different stuff, like adding electric guitars and weird Farfisa organs.