Album Review: De Pelos Lo Mejor De La Trevi by Gloria Trevi (1997)
Gloria Trevi’s De Pelos Lo Mejor De La Trevi is a vibrant snapshot of her unapologetic artistry, blending genres like pop, rock, and Latin with styles ranging from heartfelt ballads to punchy pop-rock. Released in 1997 across Mexico and the US under labels Ariola and BMG U.S. Latin, this compilation feels like both a celebration and a rebellion—a testament to Trevi's fearless knack for storytelling. With Sergio Andrade handling arrangements and direction, and Olivia M. Iwadare I. crafting the album’s design, it’s clear that every detail was thoughtfully executed. But let’s get real—what truly stands out here are the tracks themselves.
One song that sticks with me is “La Papa Sin Catsup.” It’s quirky, bold, and impossible to ignore, much like Trevi herself. The track’s playful energy and clever wordplay remind you why she became such an icon in the Latin music scene. Sure, some might call it over-the-top, but isn’t that what makes it unforgettable? Another standout is “Dr. Psiquiatra - Remix (Versión Para Radio).” This remix takes the original version up a notch, layering in beats that make it radio-ready while keeping its raw emotional core intact. Listening to it feels like stepping into Trevi’s chaotic yet captivating world—a mix of vulnerability and defiance that hits hard.
The album also includes gems like “Si Me Llevas Contigo,” which showcases Trevi’s softer side, and “Pelo Suelto,” a track that feels tailor-made for late-night singalongs. Even deeper cuts like “¿Que Voy A Hacer Sin El?” bring something unique to the table, proving there’s no filler on this record.
What strikes me most about De Pelos Lo Mejor De La Trevi is how it balances fun and introspection. Tracks like “Hoy Me Iré De Casa” dive into themes of independence and self-discovery, resonating deeply even decades later. Meanwhile, songs like “Los Borregos” serve as biting social commentary wrapped in catchy melodies—a hallmark of Trevi’s style.
In hindsight, this album feels less like a mere "best of" collection and more like a manifesto of sorts. It captures Trevi at her peak—unfiltered, untamed, and utterly magnetic. If anything, listening to De Pelos Lo Mejor De La Trevi today feels like rediscovering an old friend who still has plenty to say. And honestly? That’s kinda beautiful.
Final thought: Who else could pull off naming a song about fries without ketchup and make it sound poetic? Only Gloria Trevi.
