The Now Sound of Venezuela Circa 1976

The lone album from guitarist and bandleader Andres Moros

There’s a revealing “interest barometer” tucked into many of the individual release pages of Discogs, the music information database and secondary-market site. It’s under the heading Statistics, and it tells how many members of the Discogs community own a particular title (“Have”) and how many members are actively looking for a copy (“Want”).

Sometimes when I encounter the reissue of a long-missing title — like the broiling and relentlessly upbeat debut by guitarist Andres Moros y Sus Estrellas that Spain-based El Palmas Music reissued on Bandcamp the other week — I slide over to Discogs to gauge what the interest level might be.

In this case, interest in Moros does not appear to be very high. He’s described on the Bandcamp page as a semi-mysterious figure on the Caracas music scene, one of countless instrumentalists who contributed to the city’s wildcat explosion of salsa and clave-based music during the mid ‘70s (more on that soon). There’s not much information on Moros or his band beyond what El Palmas has sniffed out for the Bandcamp listing; currently, in the great big world of vinyl coolhunting enabled by Discogs, only 9 people want the 1976 original pressing.

Those 9 are onto something. This album, which is the only one by Moros Y Sus Estrellas I could find, showcases the crisp, nothing-fancy execution of a band that understands what it means to play for dancers — and actually enjoys that job. The pulses are brisk but not jittery; the call and response volleys between primary vocalist Nano Grant and the band celebrate the rituals of the salsa dance without extravagance. And though Moros is described as the primary instrumental attraction, he takes few solos, preferring to function within the rhythm section; his gracefully lyrical melodies rise up from the back row to comment on the passion play, and then disappear just as quickly.

So, there’s no shredding. Instead, there’s a wonderful feeling of ensemble unity, as though these guys know they can make a dancefloor levitate just through precision execution. Check the chipper stop-time breaks of “La Mazucamba” to sense the unity, and the son montuno “Canuto” to savor the way the musicians work in intuitive lockstep. They play just what’s needed to cast the spell, and nothing more.

The description of Andres y Sus Estrellas refers

https://www.discogs.com/master/3003401-Andres-Y-Sus-Estrellas-Andres-Y-Sus-Estrellas