The founder of independent music label Analog Africa, Samy Ben Redjeb, had a dilemma when he was compiling the label’s latest compilation Super Disco Pirata – De Tepito Para E Mundo 1965-1980 (released in November 2024). All of the 23 tracks were pirated copies of tropical music hits — often Colombian cumbias but also hits from other countries in the region.
These bootlegged songs (pirata in Spanish) were taken by mobile sound system operators called sonideros, who boosted the high frequencies in keeping with the cumbia sound, edited out bits or just looped riffs and grooves of songs they liked; sometimes they slowed the rhythms to cater to Mexican music fans tastes.
The bootleg compilations were then taken a pressing plant where they would use recycled vinyl and press just 300-500 copies; they were cheap and locals snapped them up.
The fascinating liner notes to the compilation tell the story of how sonideros began in the late 1950s, early 1960s, when people started hiring amateur sonideros decked out with a turntable, amp and set of speakers. This was much cheaper than hiring a band and so during the 1980s and 1990s, a lively pirata scene developed, originally in the northern parts of Mexico City. By the end of the 1980s, there were hundreds of pirata labels with names like Discos Galaxia 77, Roadrunner, Discos Medelin, Suntan and Discos Bengala.
The album kicks off with a belter, an Ecuadorian track, Afro Oriental (the pirated version was renamed Cumbia Afro), which features an irresistible strident piano, driven relentlessly by Cumbian rhythms and percussion.
Compiler Redjeb notes that this particular track was difficult to reproduce so they used the bootleg to recreate the master you hear on the album.
This track pairs perfectly with other ones that feature heavy piano and sparkling percussion like my favourites Palenque by Carlos Haayen Y Su Piano Candeloso (a terrific name for a band) and Ramon Ropain’s Malinga. Indeed, Redjeb said that one of the main inspirations was that classical piano meets African percussion sound that features so strongly in Colombian (and Cuban) music.
There are some quirky novelties as well. Somehow the Bee Gees ended up on Cumbia De Los Bee Gees and Beethoven on Enrique Lynch’s bizarre Le Quinta Sinfonia De Beethoven. Other odd tracks like Eduardo Vurita’s La 3a De Los Toquecitos started off life as a medley but the pirate producers simply lopped the first section twice — perhaps they liked it so much they just repeated it.
But there are plenty of great dancefloor fillers, after all sonideros were created to host parties. You can’t go wrong with Eso Es Con Velas by Orquesta Rafalo, Alexa Acosta Y Su Orquesta’s standout Cumbia Del Amor and the chicha-like sound of Te Gusta Como Azucar by Orientales de Paramonga.
This is a wonderful compilation, brought to life by Redjeb’s liner notes and Carlos Tropicaza’s excellent essay on the history of sonideros and discos pirata. It is beautifully illustrated with a bibliography for those who want to find out more about this colourful chapter in Mexico’s musical history. I was in Mexico City in the early 1980s but was completely unaware of the sound system culture that was popular at the time, so this collection, available as a CD, download or vinyl, is a revelation for me. Highly recommended.