Why would a band from Wales name themselves after a Spanish National dish? That was one of the several questions that popped up in my mind while listening to Rabo de Toro’s self-titled and self-released debut album. Another one was whether these guys were like their album’s lyrics in real life – vulgar and nasty – or rather the neighbourly, well-behaved and well-adjusted types. About the latter we can only speculate, but I assume that booze helps in bringing out Mr. Hyde. The first question, however, I can clear up after a little bit of research.

“Rabo de toro” is a stew dish which has bull’s tail as a central ingredient. As you might know, bullfighting is an integral part of Spanish culture. During the glory days of bullfighting the spectacle drew massive crowds. After the fight, when the bull had been killed, its meat was sold off to wealthier citizens and butchers. The less than desirable parts, the ears, entrails and the tail, were given to poorer citizens waiting patiently at the back door of the arena. What they made from the scraps they were given became a humble, standard, working-class meal prepared all over Spain. Today, you can eat it in fancy restaurants.

All of the above is part of the band name Rabo de Toro: The fact that the lower classes were given what would otherwise have been thrown away, the fact that they actually managed to make something nourishing and wholesome out of those scraps, and the fact that today, in the twenty-first century, people pay ridiculous amounts of money for a working class dish. An outstanding band name, therefore, for a punk band.

Via their lyrics, the Welsh Rabo de Toro comment on every issue you can possibly think of. The Tories are spat on of course, so are mass-consumers of social media, addicts, self-help mottos, drunken nights out – and Russ Abott together with everything he represents. The point that women and the disabled aren’t treated with respect by the government is also made. There are no sacred cows here as we see politically manifested on those marginalised by them in society today. Every issue is dealt with in a manner that is decidedly politically incorrect by those in power. Yes, some parts are a bit heavy on the stomach. But if this is supposed to be the voice of the downtrodden and those being fed garbage, is it realistic to expect political correctness or any sort of linguistic finery? Probably not.

The album starts out as fairly standard punk, melodic and a bit trashy sounding, but the vocals pretty soon deviate from the standard, as do guitars and drums, and you quickly realize that this is anything but standard. The band’s influences, as audible on the album’s eleven tracks, are quite diverse, ranging from Sleaford Mods, Bad Brains to Living Colour and Gogol Bordello. Or from punk to rock, avantgarde, funk and a little bit of jazz.

One of the nastier tracks is the album’s closer, Atmosphere. It is a cover of Ross Abott’s happy-go-lucky, washed, ironed and perfumed hit from 1984 about a night out in a disco club. Instead of an 80s disco club, Rabo de Toro’s version is set in the sewers of hell, successfully conjuring up the place’s smell. Disgusting, yes, but not so far-fetched at all if you consider the conditions in which some people have to live.

Ugly, foul-mouthed, with rotting teeth, but also razor-sharp intelligent and musically diverse. Punk, the real deal. I like it.

(7.5/10 Slavica)

https://www.facebook.com/rabodetoromusic

https://rabodetoro.bandcamp.com/album/rabo-de-toro-the-album