Los Lobos: Just Another Band from East L.A.

Chuck Berry’s biggest selling single is “My Ding-A-Ling.” When I was in high school, in the early 70’s, most of my classmates who knew of Berry at all, knew him only for this sophomoric novelty song. Less tragically, but still regretably, Los Lobos is known to the general listening public, if at all, for their superb cover version of Richie Valen’s “La Bamba.” Although it’s since been superceded by a superlative boxed set (and I am uncertain that every worthy track on East L.A. is included in the box), this collection is an admirable representation of a diverse body of work by one of America’s greatest rock bands.

Los Lobos has so many gifts as songwriters, vocalists, and musicians, it’s easy to overlook their contributions as musicologists and innovators. Even for one as unschooled as I am in most ethnic musics, it says a lot that the traditional Mexican selections here are as accessable and appealing as any of the rock and roll cover songs, and moreso than some of them. As “La Bamba” demonstrated so well with its coda, Los Lobos brought their knowledge of Mexican music and instrumentation to their rock and roll sensibilities, creating a most satisfying hybrid sound. Is there another band or artist who has integrated ethnic music so completely and effectively into rock and roll?

They often accomplish what makes The Band’s second album so memorable, creating a singular sound out of “non-rock” musicality and arrangements. Just as the endearingly creaky horn charts by John Simon lends The Band a unique texture, Mexican folk instruments and styles and, later, Mitchell Froom’s eccentric production touches give Los Lobos records a timeless quality and a sound that is their own.

They can sound wistfully otherworldly, as on “Kiko and the Lavender Moon,” or like some ethereal music box, on “Saint Behind the Glass” (both among the most distinctive sounds offered by any conventional rock band, and as radical and creative as anything on Pet Sounds). They can serve up greasy Tex-Mex, all over the place, but notably on tracks like “Shakin’ Shakin’ Shakes” and “Don’t Worry Baby.” Just Another Band… effectively samples all Los Lobos capabilities.

Again like The Band, Los Lobos achieves a lot of its variety through two distinctive, very different lead vocalists (three if you count Steve Berlin on “Saint Behind the Glass”). I remember thinking, on hearing the first Lobos album, how similar the vocal on “Will the Wolf Survive” sounded to Steve Winwood’s intonation and phrasing. And how the guy on “Don’t Worry Baby” could’ve been Question Mark making a comeback. This wealth of vocal talent, first demonstrated on their debut album, has only been further developed and exploited on subsequent releases.

If this set has a downfall, it’s that the band sometimes has a blind spot when it comes to rock songs to cover. They must have a particular fondness for Cream’s “Politician,” for instance because their cover doesn’t touch the original and, in the company of so many superior tracks, it seems like an indulgence. (For a similarly rare example from the later box set, while “She’s About a Mover” should’ve been a no-brainer, Los Lobos surprisingly takes a bar-band hack at it.)

Just Another Band… was a pleasant shock when I first saw it. Much as I appreciate Los Lobos, it was surprising to see such a beautiful package—complete with a miniature coffee table book of art—devoted to a band with one hit single to its credit. Today, would a promising band be given as many chances to release albums after failing to follow up on one big hit like “La Bamba”? Who knows how many Los Lobos are out there, who will never have the opportunity to graduate from playing bars and block parties, and become one of the treasures of contemporary popular music?

Probably best I not think about it, be grateful Los Lobos got the chance, and try to choose which disc to play, again, next.

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