Ozomati

Within the chaos that is the city of Los Angeles, a beautiful thing happened. Erupting out of the insanity came Ozomatli, a ten piece band who’ve managed to tweak people’s consciousness with their highly politicized amalgamation of hip-hop, salsa, ska, funk and jazz.

People who live in LA are tired of gang violence and guns. They fear it’s going to get worse, but stay because of a sustaining belief in their heart that something’s gonna turn this shit around. With their powerful spirit, Ozomatli give people a sense of hope by spreading mad love and citizens all over are finding themselves drawn to their message.

Ozomatli features an ethnic makeup that’s as diverse as the city they live in. Using congas and claves, turntables and tablas, trumpets and saxophones, Ozomatli has managed to create a unique blend of modern day S-O-U-L music. “We have a deep reverence and awe for the archaic traditions of our music, of salsa, samba, all these traditions go back to Africa,” says Ulises Bela, the group’s tenor sax player. “But we also love incorporating modern sounds, hip-hop, funk, whatever we feel like… it trips people out.”

Last year, Ozomatli opened for Carlos Santana at the Arrowhead Pond in Anaheim, CA., performing in front of 11,000 people. Carlos introduced Ozomatli to his guests as “the future” of music, and suggested the crowd pay attention. Backstage, the veteran performer gave Ozo a lecture, telling the members they have an important road ahead and to take it seriously. He stressed communication, to avoid the usual band drama that festers when the pressure is on, and Ozo took his words to heart.

Ozomatli’s rise in Southern California has been fast and furious. Over the course of a year, the group went from playing charity benefits to selling out the Hollywood Opium Den every Thursday night. Word spread of their stage antics, including the samba line that commences every live performance to filing out of the club and creating a spontaneous block party.

The crowds clamoring for Ozomatli became so large that the band moved their Thursday night reign from the Opium Den to their larger capacity neighbor, Dragonfly. And when the band tour outside of California (which they will do this summer on the Vans WARPED tour), they get invited back. On a recent sophomore visit to Colorado, they sold out the Fox Theatre, with fans lining up to hear them once again.

People hear what they want to hear in Ozo’s music – various political factions, music clicks, and Hollywood scenesters have adopted them as their own. For its part, Ozo is happy to oblige by playing the music they want to play, without compromise. They sing in Spanish, but rap in English. The music is political yet the politics take a back seat to the extravaganza that erupts when Ozomatli steps on stage.

In the tradition of such So Cal luminaries as WAR, Janes Addiction, N.W.A. and Rage Against the Machine, Ozomatli are knocking down narrowminded doors quicker than you can say, “Como Ves”, the album’s first track. “Como Ves” is a subtle warning to open your eyes and that “history” isn’t necessarily something you learn in school. Ozomatli put an emphasis on thinking for yourself, while happily telling you what time it is. This is exemplified by two of the album’s tracks, “Coming War”, a reminder that the revolution will be televised, and “O Le Le”, essentially a lyrical battle of wits rather than weapons. Rapper Chali 2na – the lanky Chi-Town philosopher – observes, “if you can’t understand we’re all put here on this earth to trip off each other, then you’re just lost in the race of life.”

Ozomatli were born out of protest at the former downtown LA site of the Emergency Response Unit headquarters, now the Peace and Justice Center. The band’s bassist Wil-Dog, Ozo’s founder and one of its most outspoken members, was part of a month-long strike that occurred as a result of a conflict between the Los Angeles Conservation Corp and the ERU. Wil-Dog was among the people working for the LACC, protesting poor worker conditions as well as the firing of a leader who, Wil-Dog says, encouraged his crew to employ creative tactics to educate students.

Wil-Dog and his co-workers staged a sit-in, which began March 12, 1995 — the same day singer/guitarist Raul Pacheco moved back to LA after abandoning a political consulting career. Wil-Dog soon began writing songs, and Ozomatli played their first gig a month later.

Originally, they only played political benefits but word spread and within no time, kids were appearing on the streets of Los Angeles with ‘Ozo’ tattoos. “We represent all the ghettos of LA,” Wil-Dog says. “We want to make a change in our neighborhoods, show people a positive way to live.” He adds, “I knew we had something special the first day we played,” says Wil-Dog, “I’d never been in a band that just wanted to party, to have fun and still be about something.”

Ozomatli is an Aztec word for the God of dance and appears on the Aztec calender in the form of a monkey. Whether you understand the Spanish language or not, as Ozomatli performs, their stories come through the music. It goes back to that “essence of S-O-U-L” thing. It doesn’t matter if they’re playing a traditional Mexican ballad or encouraging Chali 2na to drop some knowledge, Ozomatli gets its point across. “When you walk through LA,” says Bella, “you hear all these sounds. Just take a walk and listen. That’s the music of Ozomatli.” Wil-Dog adds, “Nothing we do is traditional, but it’s very LA.”

T-Ray, who has produced records for Cypress Hill and Helmet, captured the true spirit of Ozomatli on this record – which is as uncompromising as the live shows. “We were like nothing he’d ever done,” says Bela, “he put his whole life into it.”

Go ahead and have a listen and, oh yeah, !Viva la Revolution!

Raul Pacheco — lead vocals, guitar, bajo sexto
Chali 2na — vocals, ghetto diplomat
Cut Chemist — turntables, world famous master scratch and rhythmic DJ king
Wil-Dog — funk, hip-hop and Latin bass specialist
William Marrufo — drums, vocals, Latin-jazz-funk-hip hop backbone
Ulises Bella — tenor sax, summer soul-stice, pure energy
Asdru Sierra — trumpet, vocals, from a long line of Saleros, from the mambo to the jazz to the salsa to the funk
Jiro Yamaguchi — tablas, bongos, percussion, trained in Indian classical music via NYC and Japan
Justin “Nino” Poree — congas, percussion, the kid with the vicious Afro-Cuban attack