
animal tropical
Formerly known as Down Home Southernaires, Animal Tropical are:
Jose Castello - Vocals, Keys
Kristopher Pabon - Guitar
Jarrett Hann - Bass, percussion
Jorge Rubiera - Drums, vocals, percussion
Down Home Southernaires are four friends from childhood who ? despite their varying interests — always wanted to be in a band. Pabona, the guitarist, is an amateur anthropologist and mystic; Norge, the drummer, is a filmmaker and dabbler in fashion photography; Jose Jose, the piano player, writes poetry and paints pictures of rottweilers; Jarrett, bass player, is a full on gourmand and food scholar. But Saturday nights (or any time you care to party), they forget all of that: handi-camera and dagga sprout, pencil and spatula are toweled stowed, amps switched on, and soon enough Cuban heels spiral off of feet, and cymbals crash, and all of Miami is set in muggy motion (and the fun isn’t limited to Miami, of course: this contagion has, over the years, spread up the peninsula to every corner of the south and midatlantic and Midwest; Johnstown! Wichita! Brooklyn! Peroria! Sioux Falls!) Indeed, after their peculiar fashion sense (a sultan’s wardrobe of cuban heels, perfumed hankies, leisure suits and open collared oxfords, all dismissed as “natural elegance”), DHS are best known for their under-the-big-top flavored live performances, spectacles of an intensity that belies the craftiness of their music. Listen to the records. Their lyrical and musical density recalls Steely Dan; their classical precision and punk attack pure Elvis Costello and the Attractions; their feverish soulfulness pinched from The Band, Motown, and gospel old-timey and new timey; their freakiness from Tropicalia; their wistful, big smile pop worthy of ABBA. Read more on Last.fm. User-contributed text is available under the Creative Commons By-SA License; additional terms may apply.
Jose Castello - Vocals, Keys
Kristopher Pabon - Guitar
Jarrett Hann - Bass, percussion
Jorge Rubiera - Drums, vocals, percussion
Down Home Southernaires are four friends from childhood who ? despite their varying interests — always wanted to be in a band. Pabona, the guitarist, is an amateur anthropologist and mystic; Norge, the drummer, is a filmmaker and dabbler in fashion photography; Jose Jose, the piano player, writes poetry and paints pictures of rottweilers; Jarrett, bass player, is a full on gourmand and food scholar. But Saturday nights (or any time you care to party), they forget all of that: handi-camera and dagga sprout, pencil and spatula are toweled stowed, amps switched on, and soon enough Cuban heels spiral off of feet, and cymbals crash, and all of Miami is set in muggy motion (and the fun isn’t limited to Miami, of course: this contagion has, over the years, spread up the peninsula to every corner of the south and midatlantic and Midwest; Johnstown! Wichita! Brooklyn! Peroria! Sioux Falls!) Indeed, after their peculiar fashion sense (a sultan’s wardrobe of cuban heels, perfumed hankies, leisure suits and open collared oxfords, all dismissed as “natural elegance”), DHS are best known for their under-the-big-top flavored live performances, spectacles of an intensity that belies the craftiness of their music. Listen to the records. Their lyrical and musical density recalls Steely Dan; their classical precision and punk attack pure Elvis Costello and the Attractions; their feverish soulfulness pinched from The Band, Motown, and gospel old-timey and new timey; their freakiness from Tropicalia; their wistful, big smile pop worthy of ABBA. Read more on Last.fm. User-contributed text is available under the Creative Commons By-SA License; additional terms may apply.
animal tropical lyrics
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