C. Tangana returns almost exactly a year since the release of his Latin-Grammy winning album El Madrileño with a deluxe version that indulges in more of the intergenerational influences that fans initially loved. On “Sobremesa,” which translates to a conversation held at the table after dinner, C. Tangana serves dessert in the form of nine new tracks.
Though he’s one of the most successful Spanish musicians working today, C. Tangana’s third studio album hardly feels like a commercial effort. Spread across 23 tracks, El Madrinleño is a deeply personal, cross-cultural sonic exploration grounded in the rapper/singer’s Spanish roots.
El Madrinleño presents a stark pivot from C. Tangana’s last two albums: Ídolo and Avida Dollars. He’s abandoned the previously prominent trap-reggaeton flavor of his work and replaced it with sounds that are more familiar to his heritage. On this record, C. Tangana disregards what’s hip, and invites some old friends of the Latin music industry to help him capture the sounds of home.
For a Chicano listener, it was a bit complicated celebrating Spain’s deep roots the same way C. Tangana does. To me, and many other Latinx people, the Spanish half of our genetic composition imposed itself forcefully upon the indigenous half, to say the least. Dancing, singing, and clapping along to this record provided a special and, at times, confusing experience. For so long, I’ve tried to distance myself from my Spanish ancestry and for the most part, it has been fairly simple. Spain is all the way in Europe, making it easy for a Latin American to feel like Latin Europeans are in an entirely different world; but C. Tangana managed to shorten that distance.
Spain is, at least to Latin America, a hotbed of colorism. The nation embodies Eurocentrism, and world leaders still continue to utilize traditionalistic stereotypes to push their racist beliefs. As a result, Latin Americans are placed at an arms-length of Spain, either by choice or for systemic reasons. Regardless, C. Tangana manages to respectfully invite himself into the cultures of other Latinos, giving them the flowers they are due along the way.
This willingness to connect Spain to the rest of the Latin world is most pronounced when he collaborates with Mexican artists Carin Leon and Adriel Favela on “CAMBIA!”. The production is full of tonal depth and strength while maintaining a smooth and skeletal simplicity; but the instrumentation’s real achievement is in its ability to seamlessly unite the style of norteño and corridos with a traditional Spanish-guitar accompaniment. The band’s sudden and off-kilter unison stabs laid over lively strumming come together to blur the lines between genres and cultures.
C. Tangana performs as though his objective is to connect sounds from Latin music that have inspired or left a mark on him. In the salsa-reimagination of El Pescailla’s “Lola”, “Muriendo De Envidia” recruits Cuban guitarist and singer Eliades Ochoa to assist him on the beautiful yet bouncy ballad. Its soft and sweet proclamation of love and beauty is eventually overtaken by a sea of syncopated claps and blaring horn breaks, ultimately sounding like a big band jam session that got carried away in the best possible direction. In the tail end of the track, both artists seem like they’re truly enjoying every moment in the studio as they shout the chorus over a bright trumpet solo.
Chemistry between artists is what drives this particular work. It makes sense that the deluxe version would be entitled “Sobremesa”, because so much of this project relies on the cultural context and intimacy surrounding these themes and sounds, while still fundamentally being loads of fun to listen to. C. Tangana assumes the role of the young kid at the dinner table asking the elders about their history. El Madrinleño embodies a lively conversation between artists excitedly trying to explain bossa nova, samba, rumba, and much more.
The record is a breath of fresh air that radiates family fun. The flamenco flavor of “Ingobernable,” a collaboration with Nicolas Reyes and Tonino Baliardo of Gipsy Kings, only pushes that further. Utilizing split-percussion instrumentation and playing in between each other’s parts, it’s easy to imagine the artists in a room together riffing off of each other’s instincts.
The same spirit is found in “Tú Me Dejaste De Querer” with Spanish composer Niño de Elche and Spanish singer La Húngara, especially during the chorus when the trio and band is belting it out together in an exclamation of passion. Still, C. Tangana borrows a bachata-style guitar riff without a face to represent it. Which wouldn’t necessarily be a problem if he hadn’t created the expectation that almost every musical element would be showcased alongside an ambassador of the sound. While listening, I expected to hear a member of Aventura, or another Dominican artist making bachata.
C. Tangana keeps consistency on all fronts going into the deluxe releases. The bop of “Ateo” and its sexy-guitar swing puts Argentinian artist Nathy Paluso in a great light, showing her versatility and ability to complement and further complicate innovative ideas in music. Besides plugging in a few live renditions from the Tiny Desk set, there is no laziness in this last-leg of the album.
Being accompanied by a glamorous Spanish-rock production, “La Culpa” fortifies C. Tangana’s motif; the track is a holistic amalgamation of his experience as a contemporary Spanish artist.
Regardless of certain missing cultural representatives, El Madrileño is very cautious in respectfully navigating the genres it’s influenced by. The album never tries to define itself as one thing over the other and wears its global source material on its sleeve. It avoids the popularly dreaded “appropriation” label because it puts its culturally colorful cast on display. C. Tangana invites each artist to explore the capabilities of their genre while adding only what’s honest to him. El Madrileño can go a long way in teaching anyone a little something about the ways we could more respectfully embrace and interact with different cultures.