On Reyna Tropical's latest EP Sol y Lluvia, She Shred's founder and guitarist Fabi Reyna doesn't really shred, and LA-based producer Nectali Diaz aka Sumohair doesn't exactly throw his weight around, either. Partly because they're both aren't showy people. But mostly because they don't need to. The strength of their collaboration is commanding enough.
Both members of the band were born in Mexico but grew up, and presently reside, in the United States. Not surprisingly, each of them still maintains a sense of deep connection with their Mexican heritage and thrive on the fluid exchange between the cultures of their two homes. Often in defiance to those with power and influence and who might seek to separate the peoples of these intensely intertwined, sister regions to advance their own political agenda. You can't keep people apart though. Nor can extinguish their thirst and a burning desire for freedom and connection with one and another. To attempt to is a full hardy as telling the sky not to rain or demand that water stop being wet. Which interestingly enough, brings us back around to the topic of Reyna Tropical's new album.
Sol y Lluvia is inspired by Fabi's time spent around the Rio Mendihuaca, a river in Northern Columbia that flows into the Caribean Sea. And the album is dedicated to all of the bodies of water that make life on this planet possible and connect every living thing on it. The narrative that the Fabi and Nectali crochet together for this release is an emotional and spiritual one- a truth you feel before you can rationalize it and understand before you can even articulate the words that have been spoken to you inside your own head.
The cool, Afro-Mexican rhythms that the band lays down are as easy and as natural to indulge in as taking oxygen into your lungs (and about as healthful as well). "Lluvia" is possessed of an enveloping tranquility, one which feels like you're sitting on the banks of a dark, calm lake, as light reflects back at you from the water's surface at dawn, just as the sun begins to climb above the treeline. A track with a shimming appeal, achieved through a combination of peaceful but precise syncopated guitars, a rippling display of Caribbean rhythms, and the invigorating lap of Fabi's beguiling voice. "Calor" evinces a lo-key clamor for your attention, achieving its goal with the help of relaxed and congenial Latin surf pop and reggae, a sonic profile that contrasts playfully with the romp and shimmy of the arpeggiated reggaeton on "Tristeza." Then Sol y Lluvia exits with a final au revoir, courtesy of the unhurried closer "Calmada," a track which sounds like it would be an excellent companion soundtrack to the writing of a travel diary, with its ambling, daydreamy mood and stone-skipping grooves.
Where ever water flows, you will find people there. And where ever you find people, you will find water. We're a long way off from achieving solidarity and camaraderie between all the people of the world, but as long as we have water and music to guide us, you may find some common ground yet.
