So you just saw Dënver or some other Latin indie folk/rock act and are irking to move your tush to something heavier. You’re looking for a more urban beat, because well, let’s face it your a city kid, street rat, whatever you wanna call it.
Point is you like to move it, move it, to all those late night radio club remixes and thump thump thumping vibes. You dip out the club where the hipsters just dropped it, still yearning for something to bounce you along through the rest of the night, because you’d honestly rather spend your last couple bucks on a some booze instead of on a cab ride home. You know some spot’s just gotta be open at 3 AM in this town, so you tuck your scarf into you hoodie and black leather jacket, ready, like the warrior you are, for a long night.
You savor the last drag of your cigarette and briskly pace around the corner, past half naked hussies and thirsty dudes spitting game in Spanish, and you laugh to yourself. That same girl has been sitting there in front of the club since you got there. You call her number, and you got theirs too; she’s street-hustling tonight, and you want to get your hips and knees grinding just as hard. Looks like you’re spot’s still open, so you slide upstairs and slip into the scattered crowd of house heads, flailing arms and swaying booties to that doubling sound. You smile, because deep inside you’re Chicago-Detroit loving techno-house midnight pubescence lingers in your shaved head. You’re an art thug with a knack for busting it up on the dance floor. Tonight’s your lucky night.
Aguascalientes’ duo Waya Waya is one of those albums that takes you for a winding ride, building up with steady ringer wind ups and layered loveliness that keep you grooving without giving you that sense of monotony that most house inevitably falls fate to. From the opening “Natura,” a moody number that fills your Soul Train Saturday cartoon watching self something to shimmy and sashay to, like the pro you know you are. The best part is that whistling and tack tack tack that comes in around the end.
There’s something simply uplifting but, weathered, wise and mature about this music. It doesn’t burn or blast obnoxious bull horns in your ear the way most of this coked up, excessively contrived and ruckus rabbling music of our generation does. Jungle house is still superior, and this Natura EP is out to prove what the late ’80s and early ’90s acid-house and ghetto-nomic Reagan-era survivors and know it all mami’s and papi’s been at for a minute. Anything but stereotypical, Waya Waya‘s Natura is a solid dance house infused, sophisticated and subtle rising EP.
“Ngorongoro (ft. Javier Estrada)” takes you into the chirping, hooting midnight jungle, while “Banna Banna” kicks it off with a little more upbeat and club-jiving attitude. It remains playful, and sincere in its approach, almost escalating into heavenly, familiar tone. The Panchitron remix of “Banna Banna” plays out like a stoner-sexed love song and Expendable Youth‘s version, speeds it up something fierce, taking the track back to a juke delight, the revved up reloads at the end of this one adding the blip-pop raver lust we all know we got hiding down under our too cool for school facades. And the ultimate Los Palmera remix of “Banna Banna” gives us a snare drum medley that will get you hissing and hooting by the end, sucking through your teeth in dance-sick pleasure. “Face down ass up,” on loop at the finale, just reiterates what this kinda music is made for. As you two-step through the night, don’t worry, somebody will take notice of your good taste and style. They may be drunk, and you may be unsure if they’ll be able to hold up the night with you, but that dirty smirk on your face has Waya Waya written all over it.