Like some cursed Latin flavoured stew brewed under a balmy lunar eclipse, Sancocho Trifiásco, the latest album from Vancouver’s Empanadas Illegales, bubbles with cosmic mischief and pan-Latin punk alchemy. It’s a hallucinatory sound collage, much like the fantastic album cover—part street procession, part sci-fi fever dream—stirring together reggaetón rhythm, cumbia bass, and acid-fried surf guitar into one deliriously unhinged sonic potluck. They classify themselves as a psychedelic cumbia band and that is exactly what we are served with Sancocho Trifiásco.
Right from the opener, “Suto Ta Kandá (de las 4 a las 12),” you’re plunged into a warped realm where time signatures melt like plastic in a microwave. The track is the only one led by vocals, and my only critique would be that I wanted more vocals throughout the album.
The rest of the instrumentals chop through a haze of choppy dembow, the percussion slaps like a chancla on the face, and the grooves are slippery. Just when you think you’ve found the beat, it disappears in a puff of reverb, phaser, and wah-wah. That or percussion madness. “Bailecito de MORD,” is probably my favourite groove on this album, but honestly if you’re looking for psychedelic cumbia this is the labum for you. Even with their other releases, Empanadas Illegales have never been a band to play it safe, but here they lean fully into the absurd, crafting a record that feels like it was made under the influence of fermented chili peppers and time-travel migraines. I personally can’t wait to see this live at the Montreal Jazz Fest.
