Allison Hadley Photo
La Chamba.
At a recent La Chamba show at the State House there were two distinct senses: the sight of many smiling faces, and the faint scent of tequila.
The crowd went from Tuesday tepid to a party resplendent with a dance circle. And La Chamba, purveying the sound of Peruvian chicha, served as the mover and shaker of the evening.
If you’ve been to a show at the State Street venue in the last few months, you’ve likely seen a flyer for one of a number of bands advertising chicha, or cumbia amazonica, or musica viejo. The State House is committed to bringing bands that play this danceable music regularly, and with an eye for some of the best in the (complicated) genre — from Austin’s Money Chicha to Peru’s Los Mirlos, to last week’s La Chamba, to this Saturday’s upcoming legends Los Wembler’s de Iquitos, a band that recently celebrated its 50th anniversary with a new album and a tour with all-original band members.
You, dear reader, are seeing all these flyers thanks to the efforts of Rick Omonte, who books the international acts that come through the State House, bringing new, exciting, and revolutionary sounds to our fair city. From his DJ work as DJ Shaki to his recent release of a compilation of Peruvian folkloric music, Puro Tayta Shanti, to his bookings at the State Street club, Omonte is a one-man whirlwind of musical passion, nerdiness, and self-described “record label stalking.”
Ever modest and self-describing as a “small potato amongst big potatoes,” Omonte’s passion and enthusiasm to learn stemmed from magazines and publications years ago: he cited going to News Haven and picking up publications such as Wax Poetics as formative for his own journey into finding sounds. But he is not content to just learn: he is committed to bringing these sounds home.
It turns out it takes years of work to bring artists like Los Wemblers or Los Mirlos to the Elm City.
But what is chicha?
Sonido Amazonico
I — and many music enthusiasts around the US — came across the genre of chicha through the compilation album The Roots of Chicha, released in 2007 by Barbés Records, and played at a coffee shop at some point while I was in grad school a few years ago. It’s catchy music, descended partially from Colombian cumbia, a danceable music that spread throughout the Amazon faster than the average rainstorm, and huayno, an Andean (predominantly Peruvian and Bolivian) genre of dance music. The combination of the two — plus a heavy psychedelic guitar line along with vocals — makes for a rhythmic and downright fun genre of music. The richness of commonalities across genre and across interests (think dancers and those who just enjoy listening) make chicha and cumbia amazonica music that attracts them all. Omonte called this music a “no-brainer.”
Staff Photo
“It’s, to me, some of the easiest music to get into — do you like dance music? We got you. Do you like psychedelic? We got you. Do you like polyrhythm? We got you. It’s got something for everyone.”
Omonte demonstrates deep knowledge and enthusiasm for the music while also being careful to give credit where credit is due.
“I’m Peruvian, but the Roots of Chicha album opened the door for me,” he said. He largely credits the “reissue culture,” record labels like Sublime Frequencies, and the communities of New Haven that come out ready to dance. For chicha shows especially, he is careful to advertise bilingually and advertise “musica en vivo” and “musica vieja” to bring in all the generations.
Omonte’s poster.
“There are these outposts that have this music and it takes a while, and sometimes it [cumbia] never catches on, and sometimes it does, and I feel like it can make it here — there is a strong Latinx culture here, and when I make posters I make sure to make bilingual posters that attract the older and the younger generation.”
Omonte’s strategy so far has worked. I spotted three generations dancing together at the La Chamba show. At Los Mirlos, Omonte’s family was there, in addition to other families, fully excited to see their music — and the music of the last generation live on stage in front of them. A man in a Peruvian soccer jersey raised his hands in ecstasy at Los Mirlos. A family danced next to local salsa dancing clubs, all grooving to the universal beats of chicha.
“At 9 p.m. it’s tios and tias, at midnight it’s the cousins and kids, and everyone is singing along and dancing, and these kids are wearing Misfits shirts, and at the same time there are folks dressed to the nines — everyone comes out for this,” Omonte said.
The Bottom Line
What no one really sees at these shows, though, is the years of work and militantly persistent communication that it takes to bring such international acts to the U.S. This is the first time Los Wembler’s have played the U.S. in five years; it’s taken as long for Omonte to bring them to the State House. Every show needs to be part of a tour, and every tour needs organization, so every show is a mass of communication among venues across the country, of people who deeply care about these musicians. For some State House acts — including many of those from Africa — Omonte has written the visa applications and helped connect venues to create a tour, because if these artists can’t guarantee making a certain amount of money on a U.S. tour, they simply won’t receive a visa. The IRS must deem the musicians just as monetarily relevant as their artistic contributions to the world. As such, the bulk of the work that happens is that of community building across venues, cities, and genre lines to create an easy tour for musicians who cross oceans and time zones to bring their groundbreaking sounds to the U.S.
“For every album you see on sale on, say, the label Sahel Sounds, there’s an email from me asking about touring,” Omonte chuckles. “This takes years of work, but I’m still here!”
Into the logistical work comes Omonte’s other mission: to help stretch and change the common understanding of “world music” in the U.S., away from sanitized, academically curated, almost anthropological compilation albums to a more immediate vision of what is going on sonically around the world. He wants to shift the conception of world music away from simply not American or European to a less monolithic vision encompassing all the various contributions of music to the world. Genre as a defining factor can be limiting, but it is a useful way to bring in new listeners. As chicha sits at the intersections between cumbia, huayno, and psychedelia — bringing in all those audiences — Omonte thinks it can be the Next Big Thing.
“We used to joke five years ago that cumbia would be the next ska, and have a third wave,” Omante riffs, while noting that cumbia is achieving a creeping boom in popularity across the U.S. and Europe. Including New Haven. “It’s a huge thing that’s been missing for me in New Haven — a dance music culture that’s crossing over into the underground culture. There’s a ton of dance culture in New Haven, but I think that this crossover is a long time coming in town, and I think it’s time.”
And what better way to experience this whirlwind of genre definition and defiance than partaking in a show at the State House? Los Wemblers de Iquitos embody the best of chicha — the roots, as it were — and the band is sure to bring an amazing show. That show represents years of passionate, single minded work in the making.
“At Los Wembler’s you’re going to hear the roots of chicha — stuff that other groups had bigger hits with. You could really call Los Wembler’s — along with Los Mirlos — the roots of chicha because without them you couldn’t have the huayno.”
If you’d like to “sentir la selva” — feel the forest — and experience this vibrant music yourself, stop by the State House and catch the latest show.
Los Wembler’s de Iquitos plays at the State House, 310 State St., on Sept. 21. Visit the State House’s website for tickets and more information.
