Futuro Conjunto (review)
A thought-provoking multimedia project with ambitious genre-mashing, immersive sound design, and RGV solidarity.
Score: 10/10
At first glance, dystopian themes in 2020 art and entertainment seem to be obligatory and in bad taste. Instead, we like to see how accurately past works predicted the future. In Futuro Conjunto, we find a loophole: set the story in a later century and look back on fictional historic events.
After making the Rio Grande Valley music history documentary, As I Walk Through The Valley, music producer Charlie Vela set his sights on the RGV’s future in this speculative fiction album. It takes place in 2200 about a man that visits a digital archive and pulls up a live-stream recording from a concert in the year 2120 played in an abandoned rocket facility in Boca Chica (alluding to the SpaceX launch site in Brownsville.) It’s a celebration for the end of the second Mexican-American war which was ignited by a hurricane, drought, and extreme heat.
Vela teamed up with Stanford scholar Johnathan Leal. They previously worked together on 2018’s Wild Tongue compilation, which featured original songs by RGV musicians to represent their pride, fears, culture, and musical diversity. Many of these musicians returned to contribute voice acting and singing on this project as well. Each cast member plays a different band or voice that acts as exposition for the historical events between today and 2120.
The opening song is a tribute to a group called the "Basura Bandits,” who hijacked a garbage truck convoy headed toward their self-sustaining colonia of eco-activists, and dumped the toxic waste on the doorsteps of “the Valley’s most exclusive gated community.” It’s a provocative industrial-punk song full of buzzing guitar chords, off-the-wall vocals, and electronic squeaks and feedback.
The next song, The Run Pt. II , continues the industrial theme and is performed by a rapping college professor as a history lesson for his students (and asks them to sign an attendance sheet after the song.) It’s reminiscent of Run The Jewels’ brand of conscious hip-hip along with the later stages of Linkin Park. The second verse gets a triumphant change of pace, and the raps deliver a captivating account of a terror cell that attempted to burn down polling stations before a presidential election. The top-notch production can make us forget that these songs are supposed to be live performances, until a technical issue occurs on stage that halts the energy. It also acts as juxtaposition for the AI music machine that bursts in with a blazing verse of computer-related raps, which include a hilarious line about Apple’s siri being her “abuelita.” Her voice is sped-up, panned, stuttered, and distorted with impetus not heard since the second verse of Kanye West’s Blame Game.
The next band has the most humorous backstory, but also plays the most tender song. Amor Superno is performed by a band who is older and corny. They play at restaurants, tell lame jokes, and shamelessly ask people to hire them for their private parties. The guy recording the show is cringing at the thought of seeing them play. Then a cinematic spacey soundscape fills the air and the delicate vocals begin. It stops you dead in your tracks. The chorus is even more surprising, as it explodes with somber requinto guitar picking and bachata bongo rolls. It’s a magical moment with a heartbreaking narrative. A lucky few would get to leave the deteriorating environment of Earth for a better life on Mars, in exchange for 5 years of manual labor. The astronaut that drove the shuttle got lost in space during his return trip to Earth, and now has this love song dedicated to him. “An astronaut, a shepherd. He spoke often of adventure. My love, he vanished into space. A song to a far-off place”
After this, the highlights keep coming. There’s the aching emo howls over a commemorative trumpet in El Huracan del Valle (a tribute to the father of conjunto music, Narciso Martinez.) HEATDEATH sounds like the indie/dream-pop niche created in Mazzy Star’s wake, but it gracefully evokes imagery of brooding in dry terrain like no one else. The zig-zag accordion melodies in La Madre de Las Estrellas (played by the son of Esteban Jordan) gets the crowd going. Then, the room joins in to sing Fernando Maldonado’s Volver Volver in an ultimate moment of solidarity, until the cops break up the show.
Vela and Leal pulled out all the stops for the non-music tracks too. The sound design includes AI voices, on-stange banter, glitchy edits, crowd cheers and claps. The dialogue and ambiance is relatable to anyone who’s ever been to a local DIY concert. There’s humor, curiosity, continuity, and the right amount of exposition.
Futuro Conjunto combines the societal reflections of a sci-fi movie, the resilience of DIY culture, and the spirit of conjunto music. There’s plenty of RGV-related name drops (La Plaza Mall, Los Asados, Selena cups) but its the musical diversity and archetypal storytelling that make this feel like home.
Purchase and listen to Futuro Cunjunto here
Get the rest of the experience at their website here
Raymus Media - Rio Grande Valley alternative music site
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