Let’s not bury the lede here: Café Tacvba’s Re is one of the pantheon rock albums in the Spanish language. And arguably one of the greatest rock albums in any language.
Since its release 30 years ago on July 22, it’s been held up as one of the most ambitious and eclectic albums of its time, elevating the standard by which almost every rock en español band would be held to ever since — including its own creators. As a song cycle, Re is a whirlwind, with genre exercises and mini-suites scattered seemingly at random. Many pop critics liken its sonic diversity to the Beatles’ White Album, which is true if you’re just counting musical styles. But whereas the Fab Four were indulging their personalities within the group context, Café Tacvba conveyed solidarity in putting together an almost sui generis collection of madcap melodies.
As a whole, Re was a great leap forward for Latin American rock music, and a landmark for Mexican music in general.
It's important to consider the context of Café Tacvba in 1994. Despite its large population and long history as a Latin American cultural center, Mexico City lagged in establishing serious rock acts aside from outliers such as El Tri. Part of this is due to the politics of the age — including the Mexican government’s notorious crackdown on public rock concerts after several clashes between rock fans and police during the '70s — leaving the majority of Mexican rock bands resigned to playing in shady, underground clubs.
However, the 1980s saw the birth of BMG’s "Rock de tu Idioma" marketing blitz, and Mexican record companies finally began to put efforts into finding a national equivalent to South American-born stadium bands like Soda Stereo and Los Enanitos Verdes. On their second album, El Circo, Madilta Vecindad brought Mexico City to the forefront of the modern rock en español movement with their innovative mix of rock n’roll and ska crossed with pachuco subculture. Other bands that emerged around this time — from the gothic Caifanes (whom the band is currently touring with across the United States) to the arena rockers Maná — began building large audiences across the continent, but the scene still lacked a singular act that could elevate Mexican rock to the forefront.
Enter los Tacvbos. Aligning based on their shared passion for English new wave music, Café Tacvba was formed in the late '80s by college friends Rubén Albarrán and Joselo Rangel, who would serve as vocalist and guitarist, respectively. In time, they were joined by Joselo’s brother (and bassist) Quique and the multi-instrumentalist Emmanuel "Meme" de Real, choosing to name their band after a historic Mexico City café. Café Tacvba spent the late '80s evolving from a college garage band into one of Mexico’s most exciting live acts. After the release of their seminal 1992 self-titled debut — a frantic collection of ska-punk mayhem and colorful pop songs — expectations were high that the band could deliver a follow-up that would mirror their electric live show. What the band delivered would end up altering the entire scene completely.
Re is impactful and unique for many reasons, the first and most immediate being its adventurous studio production. Working again with rock en español superproducer Gustavo Santaolalla, Café Tacvba decided against continuing with the ska-punk foundations of El Circo and their own debut and embraced their own eclecticism. You can hear it from the jump with the huapango-via-jarana opening chords of "El Aparato," a sound previously unheard of on a pop record. Within its three-and-a-half minute runtime are layers of percussion and synthesizers complemented by glorious indigenous chants and one of Albarrán’s greatest vocals, rising and falling as the song demands. The movement in the final 45 seconds is ethereal, with its sheer sonic force sounding more apropos for the end of the world than the beginning of a double album.
Santaolalla revealed to Rolling Stone that he challenged the band, who responded with two batches of new songs for a sprawling double disc. Re is where a song like the sophisti-funk of "El Ciclón" is followed by two minutes of unadulterated thrash in "El Borrego." "24 Horas," meanwhile, mixes Beach Boys harmonies, Latin American lounge music, and post-punk beats. And that’s not even getting to the pure WTF of "El Puñal y El Corazón," with its multiple sections finding the middle ground between Pedro Infante and the Beatles, albeit with a merengue coda thrown in.
Perhaps the best testament to Santaolalla's production is "El Baile y El Salon," Re’s most popular song (and frequent concert encore for the band). It’s one of a string of great duets from Albarrán and Meme, perhaps the most earnest song in the band’s catalog with sweetly sincere lyrics. Santaolalla lets the music aid the storytelling: Meme’s vocals ride against stomping percussion and a grooving bass line, while Albarrán sings against a wave of synthesizers. In lesser hands, the song would be an easy paint-by-numbers arena rock anthem. Thankfully, Café Tacvba leaned into their own indulgences, and came out with something immortal.
Another important theme across Re is the band’s sense of discovery for their home country. Indeed, one of Café Tacvba’s intentions for Re was to showcase the sounds that they heard while touring through Mexico in support of their debut album. As Albarrán told the podcast "La Vida Circular," the band wanted to deepen their relationship with traditional Mexican music and infuse it with the punk, metal, and funk rock that they were already experimenting with.
The most striking example comes in the form of lead single "La Ingrata." With a bouncy rhythm and tweaked time signature inspired by norteño, the song is a common tale of desperation and heartbreak with a spiteful edge bled over from Café Tacvba’s punk roots. The fan favorite is also one of the band’s most influential songs, as it presaged a number bands combining norteño and alternative music — from Tijuana’s Nortec Collective at the turn of the century, to the contemporary corridos tumblados resurgence. Café Tacvba decided to stop performing the song in concert in 2017, due in part to the harsh lyrics about its female subject, and the escalating waves of violence against women within Mexico during this period. Albarrán noted around that time that "We were very young when it was composed and we were not as sensitive to this problem as we all are now."
Re did not sell well in Mexico upon release, though the band fermented interest during a sold out tour of Chile and Argentina. This, along with exposure from the recent launch of MTV in Mexico, was the major catalyst for the album’s fortunes taking an upturn. As the Mexican music listening public soon gathered, Re had something for everyone: From the smooth bolero of "Esa Noche," the frenetic banda of "El Fin de la Infancia," and the glittery Mexican pop of "Las Flores." Lyrically the band was speaking to its compadres, most notably on "El Metro," a bizarre short story of a lovelorn man trapped inside the Mexico City subway.
Despite its madcap sound and unabashed orgullo Mexicano, Re’s deepest theme is about the cyclical nature of life. There’s an obvious hint to it within the album art’s spiral conch shell, and more allusions in the song title "El Ciclón" and the reflexivity of "Pez" and "Verde," which bleed in-and-out of each other.
But dig deeper and the album is rife with references to life, death, rebirth, and natural law. "Ixtepec" sounds like a buoyant pop number but is really a cryptic tale about Death coming to collect his bounty, underlined with the refrain that "life is a cycle." Multiple songs, including "Trópico de Cáncer" and closer "El Balcón," reference reclamation of their birth land from the conquistadors, with the former song in particular telling a heartbreaking story of a civil engineer encountering the ecological damage to which he’s complicit. And there’s also the understated elegance of "El Tlatoani del Barrio," which recounts a love story in a pre-Columbian world soundtracked by Indigenous chants and a disco boogie.
Unlike many bands in a similar position, Café Tacvba never tried to replicate the magic of Re. Their next release was the covers album Alalancha de Éxitos, itself born out of their label’s reaction about Re’s lack of commercial hits (this bet paid off; the album was nominated for Best Latin Rock/Alternative Performance at the 40th GRAMMY Awards). Their visionary, hyper-experimental 1999 release Revés/Yo Soy, solidified their critical standing by winning a Latin GRAMMY for Best Rock Album and earning a GRAMMY nod. Today, it's a cult item currently unavailable on any streaming service due to label in-fighting.
After the turn of the century came Cuatro Caminos, a much more traditional sounding rock album, which led them to new critical and commercial heights, including their only GRAMMY win for Best Latin Rock/Alternative Album, and their career ever since has seen them find their groove as the thinking person’s favorite Mexican rock band. But within their exceptional catalog, Re remains a glorious outlier.
Even if Café Tacvba had never released another record after Re, their legacy would have remained secure. Re was among the major catalysts for the second wave of Mexican alterna-rock, which saw the likes of Julieta Venegas and Kinky elevating the genre with new sounds and perspectives. All modern rock owes a debt to the freewheeling spirit of Re, and the album’s continued influence and critical accolades are proof-positive of that.
In a sense, it’s almost poetic that Café Tacvba — a band formed through their shared idolization of David Bowie, the Clash, and the Cure — ended up proving to be as essential and venerable to rock history as any of their influences.