Allison Hadley Photo
Los Mirlos.
Ah, the sounds of the Amazon. Leaves swaying. Birds chirping. Monkeys calling. Driving percussion. Psychedelic guitar. Heels hitting the hardwood floor of the State House on Wednesday night: With its sonido amazonico, the legendary Peruvian band Los Mirlos took New Haven on a special journey.
The originators of the “psychedelic Amazonian sound,” the members of Los Mirlos have been playing together for 40 years and have made their way into the canon of not only Peruvian sound, but the global sound of trippiness and tropical beats.
Your fair author first encountered Los Mirlos being played in a coffee shop years ago as part of an album called Roots of Chicha, and they have stuck with her ever since.
DJ Shaki proved an excellent guide to take the room deep into the jungle, spinning deep cuts of Peruvian chicha and cumbia and providing a percussive backbeat to the continually growing buzz in the room. The show was listed as “doors at 8:30, show at 10ish”; By 10:30 when the band hit, the room was more than ready. Couples broke out into dancing, testing the sonorous quality of the hardwood floor (a full, satisfying sound), shouting with glee. Multiple generations were present, with elders swaying in their chairs and beaming to see a band that clearly brought them back to another time and place.
When Los Mirlos came on, they greeted the room in Spanish (this was an English-free show, so forgive the author for lack of direct quotes of banter) and promised to bring not only Peruvian music to the United States, but also the Amazonian sound. This was the fourth night of a 14-show tour of the United States — and the first U.S. tour the band had taken. The band was just as excited as the room.
With electrifying guitar and driving bass, the band immediately brought the room to dancing, proclaiming ¡vamos a la selva! (“let’s go to the jungle”) to the glee of the entire audience, with some fellows in the back shouting ¡Amazonia! in response. A man in a Peruvian soccer shirt was front and center, his face transfixed with that particular joy of taking a bath in the sounds of one’s favorite band in the world — for him, for all of us, it was a special night.
Rick Omonte, responsible for bringing Los Mirlos to town, mentioned that the venue only broke even with the last few ticket sales for the evening. “You can’t bring a legendary band out of the Amazon for a hundred bucks — there are plane tickets and visas to be bought.” Even beyond the State House there were logistical concerns; Omonte helped the group connect with other venues across the country to create a tour that made everything possible. But to look at all the smiling faces in the audience, it was worth the effort.
As the set drew to a close, the band played a line dance song that got even the most staunch of chair sitters up and dancing. Multiple shouts for an encore rang up to the rafters, and the band smiled and complied. Everyone left the venue sweaty, happy, and the better for a brief trip to the Amazon, whether it was somewhere completely new, or a place once called home. In these times of borders closing, it felt particularly meaningful to take a brief trip to the selva and let ourselves go on our own journey.