Los Lobos’ 2021 album Native Sons, comprised of (mostly) all cover songs (exclusively by Los Angeles-based artists), is prime evidence of how, during the course of their fifty-year-plus career, these musical emissaries from East LA have taken great pains not to repeat themselves.
But memorable as it is, that LP is not the only such entry in The Wolves’ discography. To be specific, a twenty-year-old effort titled The Ride (released 5/4/04) is a much more eclectic affair wherein the group accompanies a range of other artists; as such it may simply be a matter of taste whether this rootsy affair is more or less satisfying than the projects immediately preceding, the authoritative blues, rock and soul leanings of 1999’s This Time and Good Morning Aztlán, three years later.
There’s no denying that Lobos deliberately resides in a background role on The Ride. While their music has always taken precedence over their own collective persona (this ensemble is as self-deprecating as it is industrious), on this disc, they humbly redirect that which is so winning about their work to support outside musicians on original material (some co-authored with their guests).
Nevertheless, Los Lobos’ presence is too distinctive not to make itself felt, albeit indiscernibly, throughout the long player. And nowhere is such ambiance more prevalent than on “Someday;” David Hidalgo’s emotive vocal and guitar reminds us how authoritatively the band plays throughout the album, in this instance without in any way undermining Mavis Staples.
Even so, this track leaves the nagging sensation more of the band itself would be welcome and not just as accompanists. Still, the collaboration between Cesar Rosas and Grateful Dead lyricist Robert Hunter, “Hurry Tomorrow,” maintains the open-ended improvisational feel that comprises so much of Los Lobos’ best work on stage and in the studio.
It’s almost as if the band’s four solo tracks are sequenced to remind the listener why the rest of this LP is so deeply moving. While any given cut may be far removed from the more streamlined likes of later titles like 2010’s Tin Can Trust, Lobos displays a versatility comparable to The Band’s on The Last Waltz.
When artists such as Tom Waits appear, namely on “Kitate,” the mostly acoustic Mexican groove is as prominent as the electricity of “Charmed,” where the fivesome operates on its own with thunderous results, in part thanks to drums and percussion courtesy Cougar Estrada Jr. and Victor Bisetti. And R&B great Bobby Womack–guitarist for the late Sam Cooke and writer of “It’s All Over Now”–sings his heart out on the coupling of “Wicked Rain” (originally on Kiko ) and “Across 110th Street.”
With the quintet keeping itself to a whisper in the background, Elvis Costello doesn’t sound much less soulful or heartfelt in his rendition of “Matter of Time” (which is also one of three appearances by keyboardist nonpareil Garth Hudson). By dint of his commanding vocal and pointed guitar work, Richard Thompson absolutely takes over on “Wreck of The Carlos Rey,” but Los Lobos are right with him every step of the way.
Released a mere three months after The Ride, The Covers EP might well have been intended to clarify any mistaken impressions left by its full-length companion piece of 2004. Consisting of Lobos’ own interpretations of material by artists they accompanied on The Ride, its seven tracks were engineered by largely the same technical personnel as its counterpart, the most prominent of which is engineer and mixer Robert Carranza (Dave McNair mastered the second, shorter set).
Including selections by Tom Waits (“Jockey Full Of Bourbon”), Elvis Costello (“Uncomplicated”) and Richard Thompson (“Shoot Out The Lights”), the slightly less than a half-hour that is Ride This also includes a live cut in the form of an abandoned workout on “Marie Marie” by Dave Alvin of the Blasters (Slash Records labelmates of Los Lobos in the two group’s early label affiliations).
Even further illustrative of the band’s fundamental influences, however, is a gentle reading of Ruben Blades’ “Patria.” Adorned with some raw Hendrixian electric guitar, it’s an intense performance matched by the author’s singing on the tune he co-wrote with Rosas and Hidalgo for the other record, “Ya Se Va.”
Through the course of that number, the rhythms pop through the surety of command in musicians who learned their chops on the streets and have never forgotten those lessons. Yet another faithful homage to (Little) Willie G–besides “Is This All There Is” on the full-length title– arrives in the form of “It’ll Never Be Over For Me;” in its own way, it is as authentically soulful as one more sultry exercise in r&b, Womack’s “More Than I Can Stand.”
Interpolation of such selections with the baker’s dozen of The Ride might well have made for a credible double album. But such a configuration might well have undermined the concept of the aforementioned project and besides, Los Lobos have never been prone to excess.
In fact, it’s a tribute to this great band’s collective powers of discernment that two decades on, their decisions look and sound all the more wise.
