Andrea Echeverri
(Nacional)
Never mind that Andrea Echeverri clouds hearts in the romance language of her native Bogotá, Colombia. Infinitely more foreign to domestic audiences will be one of the central conceits of Echeverri’s solo debut: becoming a mother made her a better lover, a better partner. No wonder she christened her daughter Milagros (Miracles). Andrea Echeverri isn’t the minor miracle of her band Aterciopelados’ international breakthrough, 2000’s tropical paradise Gozo Poderoso – even with production/play from the group’s other half, Hector Buitrago – but its namesake is a marvel nevertheless. Like the Cranberries’ Dolores O’Riordan, whose ascendance into upper registers is clear blue and glacial, Echeverri’s vocal omnipresence qualifies as a natural wonder, albeit at the opposite end of the spectrum: humid, as green as water on vegetation (“Quédate”). Buitrago knows Echeverri belongs up front in the mix, breathing against your neck (“Baby Blues”). The steady pulse of drum machine keeps Echeverri’s perfect elocution sashaying from elongated vowels to pointy consonants (“Ya Yo No”), the musical mix an impeccable steel twist of expert keyboard programs, coconut percussion, and steel strings. The perfect, three-minute capsules of (XM) radio wannabes is overly metronomic midway through (“Amni–tico”), one wishing for Echeverri to go jungle for an unholy 10 minutes. “Fulgor,” on the other mano, caresses bliss most intimately at 3:45, followed by the two-step strum of the irresistible lament “Imán.” The Brazilian ritmo of “Lactochampeta” also grabs your hips. Andrea Echeverri will make you a better dancer. (Thursday, March 17, 12mid @ Mambo Kings)
This article appears in March 18 • 2005.
