The sad reality of local music scenes is that for every band that bursts out into the wider world, there are dozens of excellent ones that never make it out of the domed ecosystem of their hometown. They toil in obscurity for years, become mainstays at places like the Casbah but not much more or burn up in the atmosphere on attempted liftoff.
One of those San Diego bands who never made it out, but probably deserved to, is New Mexico. The band’s 2013 release “Malpais,” is one of my favorite San Diego albums of all time, as evidenced by my worn-out vinyl copy. What made New Mexico so great, aside from the excellent tunes, is its ability to evolve.
The band’s sound went from the pseudo powerpop of the 2007 album “Plastic, Fake and Frozen,” released when its name was still Apes of Wrath, to the loud, scuzzy garage rock of 2010s “Have You Met My Friend?” which came after the band changed its name to New Mexico. By 2013’s “Malpais,” New Mexico’s final album, the band had rewritten the script again, embracing a wiry, post-punk tinged brand of indie rock.
It’s a potent, intimate record whose songs bleed into one another that came at a time when my musical tastes, like the band’s, were evolving. All these years later it still packs a hefty punch.
New Mexico, “Johnny Garçon”: It’s hard to pick a favorite track on “Malpais,” which was released 11 years ago yesterday. It’s an album filled with fantastically cold, melancholic, post-punk inspired tunes. “Johnny Garçon,” however, stands out. It’s a splash of light that, given its under three-minute run time, dissipates nearly as quickly as it materializes. Warbling synths, driving guitar strums and lead singer Robert Kent’s reedy vocals all mesh into a frenetic, contagious head bobber.
Like what you hear? Give “Malpais,” a listen in its entirety. It’s worth it, trust me.
Do you have a “Song of the Week” suggestion? Shoot us an email and a sentence or two about why you’ve been bumping this song lately. Friendly reminder: all songs should be by local artists.
