Trujillo, Perú 1971 - 1974 (Analog Africa Dance Edition No. 13)

Chronique

Of all American inventions, the electric guitar may be the one that changed the world more than any other. Take the story of Peruvian guitarist Berardo "Manzanita" Hernández for example. Like many musicians of the time, Hernández was in thrall to the playing of Eric Clapton, George Harrison and Jimi Hendrix. But a 1968 coup by Peruvian general Juan Velasco Alvarado, who was determined to counteract what he saw as the cultural imperialism of Anglo-American rock, shut the country off from those influences. Carlos Santana, a Latin guitar hero who was already a huge inspiration on Peru's electric guitarists and garage bands (apparent here in "No Me Marchare"), was denied entry when he arrived for a 1971 concert. The lack of imported rock music gave rise to Peruvian Cumbia bands, who added electric guitar to tropical rhythms, musica criolla and traditional Huayno influences to create music which is ironically enough now revered in North American and Europe under the sexy title: "psychedelic cumbia." As the liner notes to this nearly all-instrumental compilation of Manzanita's 1973-74 heyday for the Virrey label so precisely put it the key to the music was a guitar technique that "required a delicate interplay between thumb and fingers, and an ability to execute the picadito—lightning runs up and down the fretboard."

Hernández's music is wonderfully jumpy, danceable, and funky, as irresistible in its own way as the more celebrated and revered Cuban music of the '60s and '70s. In "Salomé" he plays single notes and chords, using skill and speed in both cases to drive the rhythms of Enrique Ibérico (bass), Antonio Medina (bongos), Héctor Mattos (congas) Ricardo Valles (timbales). A very '60s sounding Farfisa-sounding organ by Hernan Huamán adds the telltale psychedelic touch to "Catita." A rotating swirl of percussion engulfs "Primavera 71" where again Huamán's organ and Hernández's guitar trade melody lines with Huamán stepping out into an extended solo that closes the tune. Perhaps the ultimate example of the band's elastic prowess is "El Norteño," a breezy, happy guitar line and call and response with the organ that exudes the obvious joy that Hernández felt as he played. This is also one of the best sounding tracks on this entire compilation. The overall sound here is dependent on the sources, most likely digitized versions of the cleanest LPs or 45 rpm 7-inch records available, so the quality varies a bit from track to track, dipping into the muddy range in the lively "La Buenita" which features uncredited singers Los Cañeros in an obvious nod to Cuban music. A revelation for newcomers to the wonders of psychedelic cumbia, this essential collection happily unearths some of the best work by one of the most unknown '60s electric guitar heroes. © Robert Baird/Qobuz