𝐃 𝐗 𝐌 𝐈 𝐍 𝐈 𝐐

I was sitting on my bed with the window cracked open, letting in the sound of late-night cars humming down my street like spaceships. Too lazy to get up and flip the vinyl, I streamed Batuco on Spotify instead, my body still and humming faintly. Sometimes you just need percussion that wakes your bones up like a cold shower.

Son Rompe Pera, five brothers from Naucalpan, Mexico, make music with a marimba as their beating heart, layering it with cumbia, punk, garage, and the pacing of a block party teetering on riot. On Batuco, they sound like kids who grew up with both cumbia sonidera and The Cramps, who inherited an instrument from their father and fed it beer, firecrackers, and chilito candy. It’s very punk, if you ask me.

Each track is tightly packed with sweat, bounce, and bite:

Los Chucos Suaves – the album opens like a piñata smash. It’s a Ritchie Valens cover. It’s deliriously fun, like getting dragged into the dance and dancing for hours.

Tienes Que Bailar – this track where the marimba is relentless, and the chorus chants feel like your cousins shouting from across the room.

El Palo – short, fast, and breathless like a chase down a neighborhood alley. It’s the sound of a broomstick used both for sweeping a rhythm.

La Cumbia del Chivo – hypnotic and sinister, like the sounds of a market that only opens after midnight. The cowbell and bassline drag you under.

Mi Vida Sin Tu Amor – a sudden tender cumbia ballad aches like sweaty heartbreak on a back porch. Still, the marimba keeps tapping your ribs like: don’t cry, keep dancing.

Verde Mar – sways like seaweed in a warm ocean. There’s a surf rock slink here, dreamy and a an alcoholic beverage spiked with lime.

El Tren – sounds as if a locomotive ran on tequila and bike horns. The beat huffs and hammers forward without brakes.

Los Chilangos y el Mar – is a love letter to both city and sea. It’s playful.

El Feo – ugly in the best way: noisy, chaotic, unbothered. 

Cumbia Is Dead – after punk is dead — and resurrected. What an amazing track, to be honest.

Santa Morena – sounds like an old standard, stripped and re-wired track. The marimba here is wild, like honoring your grandma by dancing with her.

Los Chucos Suaves (Reprise) – back to where we started, but drunker. Feels like a second wind —you thought the party was over, but nope.

Batuco is a backyard punk-cumbia gospel from kids who knew their history and spit on its shoes while kissing its cheek. I wish I could see them live…