TheFader

Schnipper’s Slept On

• story THE FADER

Each Tuesday, FADER editor Matthew Schnipper highlights an underappreciated recent release he thinks we need to know about. This week it’s Ricardo Villalobos’ Primer Encuentro Latino American triple 12-inch single. Watch a video of Villalobos dancing around to his own song in front of a projected butterfly next to a girl with a sleeveless hoodie and read Schnipper’s thoughts on it after the jump.

I almost went to Disneyworld this weekend. I had tickets to Orlando, a hotel room, a bunch of books packed and my travel toothbrush. But it was raining hysterical, belligerent storms there. The way my family had made the trip sellable was by promising that they would be okay with me sitting by the pool reading, just meeting them for meals. I’m not much for rides. But the rain made this impossible and, with my parents, sister, her boyfriend and his daughter all there a day early, they said I should stay home. So I did. And then I decided I should have a party. On Friday afternoon I wrote this email:

Dear friends,

You may have known that I was going to go to Disney World at 5:45. My sister’s wonderful boyfriend has a very charming 7-year-old daughter, Sofia, and she has wanted to go to Disney World for some time. My sister just graduated from graduate school with her degree in social work (so proud!) and because my dad worked at ESPN before he retired and they were owned by Disney, he gets a discount and they decided to celebrate. So my parents, sister, her boyfriend and Sofia, flew to Orlando yesterday. Earlier in the week, my sister had warned me that the weather was particularly bad in Orlando this weekend. I winced, as I’d hoped to spend my time by the pool relaxing and reading, but knew that I should suck it up. So I did. Then last night my mother sent me a text message that the weather was not particularly good. I was worried about that, but, still, a couple days with a few movies, family and hopefully some sunshine had to be okay, right? Then this morning my father called me and said “It’s raining a lot,” and I thought the next thing he was going to say was, “So make sure you bring a raincoat,” but instead he said “So I don’t think you should come.” This was weird and confusing to me, but also a huge relief. I have been having a weird time and the impending trip to Florida was taking up a lot of difficult brain space. To be honest, this weekend I really wanted to go to MoMA and see two and a half hours of home made house music, sit in my backyard, drink a bunch of tallboys and reread some Zadie Smith. I don’t want to go to Disney World in the rain. Would you? I don’t want to go to Disney World in the sun, but on some filial shit, I knew I had to. Something opened up in the skies and now I am staying in New York and doing those things. Share them with me. Or at least share, like Sunday evening with me at my I Am Not Going To Disney World Party at my house in my backyard where I have a table and two chairs. I’ll bring the chairs from inside outside, too.

But I didn’t send it, never did. I wrongfully thought that come Sunday I wouldn’t really be in a good mood anymore. Then I went outside.

What do you do when you leave work at 3:30? It’s amazing! There is so much life. I walked down to Union Square and bought fresh arugula for two dollars. I sat on the bench, some girl wearing a gross shirt with a “Uranus” pun asked me if I wanted to sign a petition about a September 11th commission. I didn’t even look up. What else what else? I was sitting there thinking, What else what else what else? There has to be something fun to do on Friday afternoon when you aren’t at Disneyworld, right? Then I remembered the Villalobos record. I went to the record store last weekend and saw it for forty dollars. That was too much. “How much did you spend on blue pants? You can buy a forty dollar record,” my friend told me. Isn’t that how people get into crazy debt? Sun banished the thoughts from my stingy brain and I walked to Other Music in the heat.

“La Primer Encuentro Latino Americano,” is a song I first heard two years ago and was convinced was a techno track made out of a recording of people chanting at a soccer match. The is hooting, booing, yelling and a lot of very fast, salsa-like hand drums. But the repeated lyric is “de la soledad primer encuentro Latino Americano,” which I believe translates to something like “lonely first time in Latin America.” Why would you pair desolation with athletic techno? Is a negative fervor still a fervor? Either way I went home and played that record over and over. But first I went to the bank and opened a money market account. I have been meaning to do that forever.

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• posted on May 26, 2009 in SLEPT ON
• tags electronic/dance, Ricard Villalobos