Recreating the Bumbumbox cement jungle block parties with which Cómeme's been associated in spirit, Super Vato seems to bubble forth with one brand of sweat-night audio intoxicant after the next, variously referencing the lithe tech house swagger of peak-era Kompakt, cumbia, Latin funk and a brawnier, more tongue-in-cheek take on the micro-finesse of mid-decade Cadenza. All made kind of grotesque and hyper self-aware (read: fun), taking those templates and emboldening them, crudely removing the cleaner, more cushioned textures and ending up with something more bewitching and overtly anthemic in its reach. With its propulsive jack and pinging synths slowly giving way to Rebolledo's own rhythmic vocal refrains, "Canivalon" sets the pace early, matched by the heady psychedelic trancescapes of "Steady Gear Rod Machine," which segues into an arpeggiated run that's almost bends-inducing, a rise too quickly from depths.
"Positivisimo" takes that astral funk and makes it jiggle without sacrificing muscularity, while "Aire Caliente" is creepy and unhinged, like John Carpenter trying to recreate a mid-'70s Mario Bava soundtrack with Jaki Liebezeit on the kit. Beginning with the adrenalized sound of a revving car engine, "Corvette Ninja" retreats again into that dank sci-fi gleam—Kurt Russell its muse—and fellow Pachanga Boy Superpitcher turns up for the acidic disco glam of "Meet Me At TOPAZdeluxe," which almost resembles the Juan Maclean's early singles.
But for all of its revelry in release, it's arguably the final two tracks where Rebolledo and co. really nail their take on the glass-eyed end of night. Matias Aguayo shows up for the greasy dead end funk of the title track, where a Bela Lugosi synth streaks over shakers, and Aguayo and Rebolledo chant out a tongue-tangling zombie thrall. Even given the record's physicality overall, it's a truly robust and enthralling moment—demanding repeat at home but sure to really boil live. The cut segues into the limber double-trap workout that closes the record, "Te Conozco Moscow," a throwback bit of rhythmic hypnotism that recalls the heyday of big stadium '70s drum solos. It's simple, almost unadorned by detail and still absolutely cathartic, as well as a fitting end to one of the year's more endearingly indulgent debuts.