I’m just going to be honest, I’ve never heard of Mariachi-Surf Rock.
And since we’re on the kick of honesty, I’m going to tell you, firmly, I love it.
Daniel Martinez, Blaine Tabor, Blake Ritterman and Mike Johnston are crawling from the dark underbelly of the City by the Bay and emerging as a massive spotlight for the already thickly independent San Francisco.
Under the moniker Posole, the four craft a rolling landscape of horns, surf riffs, Afro-beats and an addicting as hell persona that is definitively their own.
Waltzing comfortably into a place between Latin folk and So-Cal surf-rock, borderline punk, Posole throws down the five-track EP No Justice.
But don’t start thinking this is some “Ring of Fire” folky use of horns. Instead, it comes alive, unlike anything I’ve come across,
Posole builds their EP around a melting pot of influence, yet maintains consistency. Like that scene from Desperado, where each of the musicians meet on the road to battle together one more time, No Justice swaggers open with the infectiously cool “Earthquake Weather .” The rhythmic infusion that lives in “Que Voy Hacer” will get your hips moving like the suave Latin lover you wish you were. If you’re female, I’m pretty sure you’ll still get what I mean. “Trail Of…,” with its vintage analog opening, itches to reach into a Ska-like presence, but reels it in before it ever reaches that point. Posole stretches their rock wings with “Freedom Fighter” while still maintaining a smoky, dark-sunglasses style that will have you lingering to every chord.
The EP comes to a head with “Death March.” The jazzy rock, rolling style stays the course while diving into a vintage quality solo and a very modern surf-rock sound.
If you can imagine for a moment that Johnny Cash, The Ventures and Los Lobos met at a bar owned Bradley Nowell in a lost part of a San Francisco, near the water, and planned a daring, dynamic experiment with the presence of mind to keep their flair and individuality, you’d have Posole.
In just five tracks, Posole is cooler than I could ever be. So rather than keep trying, I’ll accept that there is No Justice and continue to lose myself in the coolness that is Martinez, Tabor, Ritterman and Johnston while proudly claiming I do, in fact, know what Mariachi-Surf Rock is; do you?