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Young Republikans >> Montreal gets a one-day dose of the Latin underground by RUPERT BOTTENBERG
"Every time they show you something, it's documentaries about the Bolivians in the mountains. Which is very interesting--I'm not taking anything away from that--but there's an underground culture over there, and that culture has grown." Republika is the day-long festival of South American post-punk culture descending on the campus of Université de Montreal this Sunday. A grungy counterpoint to the suave cool of the Oyé nights at Metropolis. Initially, it was to be a small affair, a night in a bar somewhere. But as Gianelli and Arroyo spread the word, things quickly snowballed. "What Shantal did is send out e-mails to all these different South American countries, and all these bands started responding. It became bigger, and with (Argentinean heavyweights) Todos Tus Muertos coming, it became huge. It's taken on a much larger scope pretty quickly." Locally, they've rounded up Grim Skunk, the Kingpins, the Undercovers, Overbass and Grupo Tierra. A heavy-duty bill, right off the bat. But the real payoff is the out-of-towners: Venezuela's Gusanos, Guatemala's Extincion and Mexico's Riesgo de Contagio. Not to mention Switzerland's Chilean emigrés Alma Tadema and even Dut et Fermin Murgurosa, representing Spain's Basque contingent. Alterna-rock en espagnol is the name of the game--and a timely one, given the exploding popularity of Latin rock in el Norte. "Even with its contemporary sounds, a lot of the traditional sounds remain," says Gianelli. "Basically, it's party music. With a message. A big, political message." At least in the case of Argentina's Todos Tus Muertos, whose name translates to "all your dead," in memory of the 30,000 victims of José Videla's repressive regime. Videla's gone, as are Chile's Pinochet and Paraguay's Stroessner. But it's the mandate of Todos Tus Muertos to remind us that things are hardly hunky-dory in their homeland. "Corruption is the main problem," explains Horacio Villafane, Todos' guitarist. "Political corruption, the police, drugs--there's a lot of cocaine in Buenos Aires. All of the campaigns are a lie because it's the police who control the traffic of narcotics." Their message hits you in the head, but the music of Todos is a swift kick in the booty. School-of-New-York hardcore snuggles up with laidback Latin reggae, echoes of traditional salsa and no small dose of hip hop. "It has the characteristic of letting you say a lot of things, a lot of words," says Villafane of hip hop. "In the past couple of years, a lot of South American bands have started using it. Hip hop is basically a way to put things in context, to sort of describe the panorama. But then again, you've got the Vanilla Ice types--which is fucking shit." Good to see we have a cross-cultural understanding here. There was a time when the revolutionary ranting of Todos Tus Muertos would have earned them a death sentence. These days, the "kinder, gentler" powers-that-be have sneakier ways of defusing discontent while keeping up pleasant appearances. "The government is in an election period right now. All these candidates in Buenos Aires organize free rock shows for the kids. It's a bargain, really. But obviously if you've got a free show, you're not necessarily going to want to pay for one when you come to see us later. That's how they work it during the campaign." Here's hoping kids in our neck of the woods will think otherwise, and shell out the 15 bones for Republika. God knows there's enough bang for your buck. Besides the bands, there'll be waterslides, games, a possible skate ramp... and the chow. The chow! "There's gonna be a lot of different foods from South American countries. It's going to be quite interesting, food-wise," giggles Gianelli. Perhaps Republika will work out a little bit like Fant-Asia, another cultural crossover that started out as a small-scale notion and grew to bigger proportions. Perhaps Republika will become a sort of South American Brigadoon, a Latin fantasyland that pops up for 24 hours once a year. "What we really want to do is put people out of context for a day," says Gianelli. Affecting an accent worthy of Ricardo Montalban, she sums it up quite neatly: "Welcome to a leetle beet of Sout' A-meh-reeca." Republika happens at CEPSUM, Université de Montreal, 2050 Edouard-Montpetit, Sunday, July 19, 1pm, $15
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