Not an internet-based dance craze… YET!
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[6.38]
Jonathan Bogart: I feared the worst when I saw that featuring, but Vives isn’t going for crossover smash, he’s acknowledging solidarity between Colombian vallenato and Brazilian sertanejo. If I like vallenato better, blame it on my Hispanophone bias; but this is celebratory and rousing, rather than dull and cloying like Teló’s solo work. Here’s hoping he profits by the lesson.
[7]
Ramzi Awn: Perfectly lush and plucked with soul, “Como Te Gusta A Tu Cuerpo” is an instant white sangria; a heartbeat away from Club Med; and a rude awakening courtesy of your Brooklyn neighbors and their stoop serenades. All in one. I can’t imagine how I’m going to get through the next two days before the weekend.
[6]
Anthony Easton: This is going to get me in trouble, but it sounds like some kind of tourist ad for a mediocre Caribbean resort intended for families, one which offers pre-packaged fun. This might be that it’s the middle of winter and I am in the middle of a depressive torpor. Extra point for the horns.
[6]
Brad Shoup: A buncha dudes howling is all I want to hear. Even if one of them is Michel Teló.
[8]
Alfred Soto: Mellifluousness and lust don’t result in a collision, thanks to the accordion, beat, and the commitment by the vocalists to use the chorus as an excuse to shout. I mean, they could be singing to each other.
[6]
Josh Langhoff: Please correct me if I’m wrong, but this seems to be a bilingual ode to someone else’s beautiful body, intended for public stadium singalong, that veers off into a coda about futbol sensation Falcao “El Tigre” García. Which isn’t necessarily weirder than hearing “Tootsee Roll” and “Get Down Tonight” as Jock Jams, or hearing rappers shout out athletes — but maybe blatantly folding public context together with private obsessions and lusts remains a weirder phenomenon than we think. Or maybe I’m just repressed. Anyway, love this, love Teló’s accordion, the whole thing sounds like a logistical nightmare to record but feels easy as a penalty kick.
[7]
Edward Okulicz: Having crafted a more-than-passable “ho le le, ho la la” hook that’s big enough to carry a song for people who can’t speak the language(s), let alone those that can, it feels churlish to pick on Vives for not doing very much else. But despite the lyrics, the song evokes half-sozzled on cheap cocktails as much as staring at a beautiful woman. That roughly doubles its relatability, though.
[5]
Scott Mildenhall: Carlos Vives is Colombian, but that doesn’t mean that TV producers almost the world over aren’t already taking notes from this in preparation for their coverage of next year’s World Cup in Brazil, and, at that, the following Rio Olympics. Well, “taking notes” may be an overstatement; the chorus, along with “Samba De Janeiro” and “Mas Que Nada,” is probably roughly exactly what they’ll be hearing in their heads as they visualise all of the Female Fan Montages they’re going to make.
[6]