"Seamless patchwork" is a pretty vague way to explain rock music. But, given that most descriptions of Ozomatli bog down in Afro-Latin-hip-hop-jazz-funk-salsa-ska-hyphenation, perhaps it's best to just open with the metaphor.
The nine-piece group grew out of a house band for fund-raisers at a LA community center and involvement in a failed workers strike; their jam session sound and activist stance have remained at the core of their music.
Ozomatli's multicultural background and politics are reflected in their sound, which freely mixes turntables with timbales and tablas—and their third album, Street Signs, has a vast geographical range "We recorded this album literally in 20 different places: bathrooms, hotel rooms," says bassist-vocalist Wil-Dog Abers via cell phone during a brief break in their current tour. The jumbled conditions and usual wide range of conspirators—neighbors like former bandmates Chali 2na and Cut Chemist, pen pals such as the Prague Symphony Orchestra and France's Les Yeux Noirs—should've made for a ragged record, but the sound is surprisingly polished. "I don't know if it's maturity, which could be viewed as a good or bad thing in some people's eyes," Wil continues, "I think it's our best album yet."
Ozomatli backs lyrical substance with musical direction by incorporating Middle Eastern music front-and-center on several tracks. Not that it's just a timely reaction to right-wing xenophobia: Wil-Dog has been a fan of Moroccan vocalist Hassan Hakmoun since hearing his dad's records at age 12. Still, the band's prior experiments with the sound didn't quite come off. "For years, we've been into North African-Middle Eastern music, but we hadn't been able to hit it," Wil says. Initial attempts at working with Hakmoun stalled (defunct cell numbers, scheduling conflicts), but the waiting paid off. "I think, over time, you listen more, learn more, get used to the sound of the music more, you're able to hear more. Basically it's all just interpreting it your own way, because we're definitely American, our feel is on the 2 and the 4, that's where we live, and the rest of the world doesn't necessarily live that way."
"Believe" mixes Hakmoun's vocals with Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan samples and MCs Jabu and Justin, and shows Ozomatli to be entirely comfortable with all the world's time signatures.
Another overdue music-expanding experience was collaborating with legendary jazz pianist Eddie Palmieri. Ozomatli had lined him up for their two previous albums, only be thwarted at the last minute. But being labelmates cut through a lot of bureaucracy and Palmieri recorded the retro-flavored jazz jam, "Nadie Te Tira," on a free day in San Francisco. Wil-Dog feels the results extend beyond one song: "Eddie Palmieri is a person we've always emulated in terms of how we wanted our stuff to sound when it came to Latin jazz salsa music," he reflects. "I'd say we've always done an OK job but it never really came out, and having him there, that was it. Now we found his Zen."
Ozomatli are renowned for their sweaty, all-inclusive live shows, but festivity can sometimes get out of hand. At Austin's South by Southwest festival this spring, the band's trademark concert-closing conga line snaked out of the club into a cloud of pepper spray, leading to Wil-Dog's and percussionist Jiro Yamaguchi's arrests on charges including violating noise ordinances and assaulting a police officer. "We kind of partially resolved that," Wil explains. "The charges were reduced to misdemeanor and it's still on our records, but if we don't get arrested in six months, they can decide to take it off. ... All I can say is, I've been in jail before in LA, and I'll take Austin city jail any day."
Playing Vegas may have kept Wil-Dog and company from checking out the New York City jails, as well. "We were asked to play the [Republican National] Convention, but we had this prior commitment with the tour and we couldn't," he says ruefully, "but we would definitely be there."
Despite having the police pull the plug on Ozomatli outside the 2000 Democratic Convention, Bush's angry protestors give Wil a warm feeling inside. "It's good to see that people are coming out," he continues, "because for a band like us that's out there, saying stuff in our music and between songs, it's just good to know there's support out there. Because in a lot of ways you feel alone as a band sometimes, out on the road. In Middle America, who knows what people are going to think?"