Alt Argentina Part 2 - The Generation That Didn't Care
by Maximiliano Englebert
On naming, alt rock in Argentina had quite the history of label swapping. Journalists of the time would have had you think 1992 was the year of rock-sonico, doing their best to christen the emerging bands before they had their own say. Thankfully a vain effort, the label never caught on and was rejected by bands in the scene, especially by some of its most visible artists. By 1993 a consistent scene had emerged—bands shared stages in a myriad of moderately sized venues attempting to capitalize on the growing enthusiasm: run down affairs, from restaurant basements to parking lots, often with almost no security measures or even proper bathrooms; something new and anxious was in the air, unobstructed by the restrictions of a previous decade, eager to shine and shred it improvised, adapted, and overcame such limitations. The variety between each bands sound inspired promoters to change the term to Nuevo Rock Argentino, placating artists organizing and playing in these, the definition stuck, and thus started to appear on flyers and in magazine ads. Everything under the alt-rock sun was welcome, despite the clash of sounds and locations, an identity was created, bolstered by its own segment on Much Music, City Limits, which would serve as a counter to MTVs more corporate vibe. Bands would play in their studios every week and they started producing—and even broadcasting—gigs at a venue called Die Schule, a sort of headquarters for the scene since the early days. The media was in motion, and the scene was gearing up for an explosion in reach.
In 1993 they weren’t quite there, mainstream charts were still dominated by the usual latin pop, cumbia and a few novelty songs, but this changed in 1994. The dawning mainstream popularity of alt rock together with the huge boost given by the new media started to expand the reach of Nuevo Rock Argentino. staple radio station “Rock & Pop” would start a segment dedicated exclusively to the new worldwide sensation that was “alternative-rock”, and some local artists would be included in the mix. However, this expansion was not without roadblocks, one of the many issues with the new economic plan that the country was experiencing was that suddenly imported goods became cheaper than the locally produced ones. This started taking a major toll on every industry, including the medium sized record labels like Radio Tripoli, DBN and DG Discos that published many important albums in the ‘80s and early ‘90s. As they started to slowly fade away and were replaced by imports, the gap between the amount of local music and foreign that dominated the airwaves became bigger than ever. Thankfully this didn’t extend to the life of the scene itself, kids were still too busy getting stoned, moshing to anything that resembled Sonic Youth and making sure everyone was aware that they didn't care about anything, and the scene kept on growing.
In the years that followed there would be a Nuevo Rock Argentino tour that took some of the biggest names in the scene and made a trip across the country, with local bands in opening slots, almost none of those bands were even on the bills so listing them is nearly impossible. Audiences were open to new styles and curious to find out how those bands that were hyped in magazines and TV sounded, there was a feeling of a community during this transitional period, and it wasn't rare to see Sepultura t-shirts in a Los Brujos gig. These shows became a place to meet without having to deal with the machismo of the metal scene or the violence and spitting of those wild punk shows (as a side note, my first experience was Massacre and Juana La Loca playing in the first floor of a pizzeria in late 1993, the audience was diverse to say the least but everyone stayed until the place closed down). In this section we will focus on some of the bands that managed to be part of that tour and where established acts, and some that didn’t but became just as important, specially moving on through the decade.
One of the most important bands to come out from La Plata—essentially Argentina’s closest thing to a college town—during this era were Peligrosos Gorriones, their style is nearly impossible to classify but it would fit the Rock Sonico/Nuevo Rock Argentino canon perfectly. Their debut album was the pinnacle of the era, highly praised and respected, they were accomplished musicians that could write intricate songs so it wasn’t hard for rock purists to accept them. While in their hometown they were more known for following the footsteps of Las Canoplas (around since the ‘80s, with a style that was was easier to trace back to new-wave and post-punk, and would only record 2 tapes later compiled on a CD) and for dealing a lot of weed, introducing it to hundreds of students wanting to score, and even referencing this achievement in one of their lyrics (although by the time their s/t debut came out the band was already experimenting with harder drugs). While their audience in Buenos Aires and the rest of the country was a mix of alt-kids and a more mature “serious” rock crowd that wouldn't dare to listen to Babasonicos, thanks to the tour they managed to get some airplay on MTV, which featured the music video for “Escafandra”. After the Nuevo Rock Argentino tour ended, they would release an excellent follow-up to their s/t called Fuga, and then completely fell apart due to their substance abuse in the following years. They continued playing live until the end of the decade, and pushed out a half-baked third album “Antiflash”, which consisted mostly of outtakes from the previous albums, alongside some solo semi-acoustic tracks from their leader Francisco Bochaton. They would reform in 2014 and release a live album but received a lukewarm reception and went back into an undetermined hiatus.
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Then you have the strange case of Massacre. Hailing from Capital Federal (or the Autonomous City of Buenos Aires as it is now called), the central hub around which all of Argentianian arts and music revolved. Massacre started in the late ‘80s as a “skate punk” band with a lot of inspiration from The Misfits and some goth leanings. They had an EP (actually a split LP with a best forgotten OI! Act) that had a small pressing and made them a staple at those 10 band punk gigs mentioned previously. Originally the band was called Massacre Palestina and had shortened it as upon recording their debut album a terrorist bombing was carried out on the Israli embassy in Buenos Aires. That album was called “Sol Lucet Omnibus'' and it not only presented a new lineup but also a much bigger Husker Du influence (to the point of plagiarism) and the affinity for a type of power-ballads that could easily fit in a Pearl Jam record (even if it was finished months before Ten would hit these shores).
Their audience started to shift from old punks and members of the “Buenos Aires Hardcore'' crew to alt kids that wanted something more “serious” and did not care for their terrible mispronounced english lyrics, although the few tracks with lyrics in spanish were more celebrated by their new audience. It wasn't until they released their second album “Galeria Desesperanza'' that they would peak and become one of the most important bands of the era. Not only was the album nearly flawless, containing biggest (or better said, only) hits at that point, it cemented them as sought after stage mates. The shared love of Massacre created a certain comunion between most of the new scenes of the time, and also started a trend of bands shifting from punk or hardcore to a more melodic or proto “emo” sound and dropping their English lyrics. Of all the bands from this era they were probably the only ones to musically influence some of their peers: Uaita, Evidencia Jinah, Restos Fosiles and Fun People, among others, all owe something to them, like it or not. Unfortunately, by the time they released their third album “Juguetes Para Olvidar” the attempt at social commentary therein was seen as naive at best; they tried too hard to become a “serious”” band to the point of having a staff to set up their amps in venues that barely had PA, by 1996 Buenos Aires was done with them (Fun People would take their place, but that belongs in the next chapter). Members left until only one original member remained and they fell into self-parody. Today they are still going but have become such a caricature that many Argentines don’t know how crucial they were and write them off, but during a 4 year period, they were essential.
Los Brujos and Babasonicos were mentioned previously but there is more to them than that initial burst. Most people would assume there would be more similarities between them besides their sound, what with having Daniel Melero helping them behind the scenes, and using aliases instead of their real names, etc, but this was far from what was actually transpiring in the scene. Los Brujos were a little older, more experienced and had more connections to the art world during their start; their early shows had props, dancers, actors and where more “happenings'' or art installations than wild rock gigs, they loved Devo and B-52s and it showed. Once rowdy kids started showing up they had to drop any elaborate sets to start playing regular shows, some of those troublemaking kids started forming Babasonicos and Gabriel “Gabo” Mantelli (bassist for Los Brujos) joined them to make sure they got their sound together (party with them). This ended up benefiting both parties because as a replacement they hired Sergio “Lee Chi” Moreno, a fan of the band that came from the punk scene, who hardened their sound and gave them the cred they needed.
Both bands played together and remained friends, but as time went on their audiences began to shift. By the time Los Brujos released their sophomore album “San Cipriano'' they gained a heavier sound, and with that a more “macho” following, which led their shows becoming more violent. Opposite this, Babasonicos, even though they started as a harder version of Los Brujos—probably because their lyrics attracted the younger stoners—gathered a larger female audience. It showed in sales, while Los Brujos’s San Cipriano sold well, scene focus was put on Babasonicos next release. Their follow up to Pasto, “Trance Zomba”, was a more focused effort. Self-produced with a newfound competence in their playing, the result was an album that mantained their sound, but incorporated a broader range influences, some that were trendy at the time such as rap and hardcore, and others that were not (yet) and foreshadowed a future direction such as disco, proper ballads and even christian music. Thanks to their quasi-ironic approach to these genres they pulled it off and managed to release a consistent album, and with MTV Latino now in every home playing the music video for “Malon”, it would slowly make them popular worldwide, ensuring they wouldn't play in small venues with sweaty walls ever again. As for Los Brujos, they would release one more album that tried to recapture the light-hearted fun of their debut, but nothing could regain that initial excitement—not special appearances by big names like Gustavo Cerati, nor taking 400 hours of studio time, nor creating the first band website in Latin America (it is still up in all it’s 90s glory). Their formula was starting to wear out and they would disband soon after (they eventually reformed). Yet despite their dwindling their legacy was cemented, and they will always be remembered as the band that kickstarted the movement with the early success of “Kanishka” in 1991.
Juana La Loca arrived too late to the party, even labeling themselves as the “inventors of rock sonico” didn’t help their debut latch on to the shoegaze genre they were desperate to fit with. “Electronauta”, by the time it was released most teens already knew about The Jesus & Mary Chain and could easily spot the not so subtle influence. The closest they got to the scene was a magazine stating that Chapterhouse had stolen a song from them, to which they responded denying it, if they knew the article was a satire is unknown to this day. Alongside Demonios de Tasmania, both bands grew into fame more for their media persona than music, with arrogance and hot takes in interviews, essentially a headline factory. Both bands could not come from more different background, Juana La Loca started the decade as The Cure clones, while Demonios de Tasmania were trying to bring glam back to punk. On the latters first release, “Suicida” they got immediate attention, their brand of punk sounded modern enough to fit the new alt scene, and their attitude was edgy enough for punks to embrace. Soon enough they recorded their first album, extremely delayed by the incorporation of a new member just before starting the sessions. By 1996 each band had new albums out and immediately hopped on the brit-pop bandwagon, surprisingly it worked out for both of them
Luis Alberto Spinetta (Almendra, Pescado Rabioso, Invisible, Spinetta Jade) is probably one of the better known and most respected Argentine artists worldwide, but beyond one hit song he had in 1990 (“Seguir Viviendo Sin tu Amor”) he was ignored for the rest of the decade, however that wouldn’t be the case for his son Dante. Dante Spinetta alongside Emanuel Horvilleur formed one of the first and biggest hip-hop acts in the country, Illya Kuriaky and The Valderramas. Initially they were not taken very seriously, they were 2 kids that had barely passed puberty and were more of a comedy act than a serious musical effort. But by the time “Horno Para Calentar Los Mares” rolled around this changed, and it changed drastically. Allegedly they played every instrument on it; their approach shifted into hard-rock (keeping the rapping) and some psych acoustic ballads that would become hits. While recording they found quick acceptance playing among the same dirty venues as the rest of the alt scene. To boot they were media darlingS, their competent playing and intelligence coupled with their experience as quasi child stars gave them an edge over media innerworkings. They found larger success than most of the bands and were the first to crossover to Top 40s radio with their follow up album “Chaco” in 1995, but that's a story for another article.
Another unexpected Spinnetta revival came from Martes Menta, who had covered Almendra in their only album “17 Caramelos'' and their singer/guitarist Ariel Minimal was a massive fan, the rest not so much, but that wasn't what broke up the band. Back in early 1991, an entire year before their first album was released their song “Azul” appeared on a handful of TV shows , half were teens, wearing the kind of batik clothes that would make Ned's Atomic Dustbin jealous. In total the band consisted of 5 members including a girl that played an ornamental tambourine (she would later play keyboard), and did some ridiculous choreographed dances. Needless to say, they were seen as a manufactured band trying to mimic EMF, but the truth was that they were a real band who just happened to worship Happy Mondays, in essence kids pushed by a couple of producers to become the former. By the time the album was released they had become a completely different beast, with a much harder sound and amazing live shows to boot. They quickly hit the studio to record its follow up “Mounstro/Hogar'' and refused to promote they had just released. After they opened for Soda Stereo in the “Dynamo” gigs the band had new sound and that second album got shelved (it was unofficially released more than a decade later), the band split songwriting duties, frictions grew until finally they were dropped by their label.
Ariel would go on to found Pez, a trio that would harden the Spinetta prog-rock influences with a fresh, more punk, attitude and was more successful and remains active. Their debut “Cabeza” is more of a statement than an album: recorded as fast as possible and released independently, its follow up “Quemado” is a mammoth of an album and would pave the way for future hard prog-rock bands. The Ghia siblings who played the bass and keyboards/dance formed Nativo Radioactivo carried the sonic torch where Martes Menta left off, they focused on playing live so much that their first album was incredibly delayed, and unfortunately a flop, as the subsidiary they signed to went bankrupt after releasing its first batch of records, making their debut “Paraiso Espasmo''. Soon after the band broke up, an honest shame because if there was one album that encapsulated the sound of rock sonico, it was that one. Guitarist/keyboardist Mariano “Manza” Esain formed Menos Que Cero, a power pop band that did well in the second half of the decade and the drummer joined a reformed Avant Press, who started the decade as a synthpop version of Soda Stereo, and even released an EP through a major label. Looking to expand their sound to a more guitar oriented pop, it managed to come in just in time for the britpop explosion and had a minor hit, before quickly imploding once Gustavo Cerati decided to incorporate their leader Leo Garcia into his entourage, making him an honorary member of Soda Stereo until the end of their career and his later solo work.
Of course Gustavo would not let 1993 pass on without releasing something to please his new bosses at Sony music, so he managed to unleash his first solo album Amor Amarillo, a strange collection of songs that consisted of some classic lite prog-rock that clearly wouldn't make the cut in any Soda Stereo album. It contains some experiments with sampling thanks to his discovery of MPCs—which would dominate most of his future work—and a couple of acoustic pop numbers dedicated to his new family, one of them was a duet with his then wife chilean model Cecilia Amenabar called “Te Llevo Para Que me Lleves” that would become a major hit that would make up for the flop that was Dynamo the year prior. He stopped playing live during this era so the chances for a new band to be invited to open a show and get signed were null; he was no longer a curator and the label had no interest in his recommendations anymore. But unlike all the bands mentioned before, he had no problems getting into top 40 radio, as stated in the previous article, his legacy was too big to fail.
While all this was happening, smaller bands were full on recording their own independent tapes in new studios, which had also blossomed thanks to the new economy. You could buy these tapes at the bands shows, specialized record stores, and in some cases they would be produced by independent publications. The best example of this was Ruido, a small fanzine with a limited run that would include a split tape with one band per side. Very few copies exist of them but they would be picked up by a bigger distributor and released as a single compilation on CD that would reach many homes around the country. Of all the bands featured therein, Suarez would stand out for one reason, they had a unique female vocalist in Rosario Blefari, and she would bring her own style to the two psych-pop tracks included in the album.
Another band that would start to emerge from the tape scene where El Otro Yo with their first release “Hijos de Alien”. They were a 3 piece lead by the duo of Cristian and Maria Fernada Aldana (guitar and bass respectively); their early sound could be defined as a sloppier Pixies on steroids, and their live shows gathered attention for their wild antics and high energy, making them the band to mosh to. Both Suarez and El Otro Yo would later cross paths later on and mutually collaborate in many projects since Rosario and Maria Fernanda became not only friends but role models for young girls getting in the scene. They would also become bastions of independent music, self-recording their albums that would later be issued on CD by their own labels or picked up by bigger distributors, but that scene had not fully blossomed yet. It only came to fruition once the possibility of getting signed by a major label became a distant dream for an alt band, so a new DIY ethos was born and it would become the staple for the rest of the decade.
By the end of 1994 things started shifting, new scenes emerged, the label “rock latino” was pushed by producers, rivalries between audiences appeared in Buenos Aires, and new bands specified their influences and clones of anglo acts became more prominent (the Buenos Aires Hardcore scene copying New York HC down to the logo was the most blatant example). Every small town around the country would have their own little alt scene or at least bands, electronic music started being taken seriously, and the economic neo-liberal model started to crack. Argentina was still far from the absolute collapse looming at the end of the decade, but slowly and steadily it stopped being cool to write lyrics about nothing, things started getting serious as more and more people started wondering “who is paying for this?”.