Album Review: La Venganza De Juanita Gonzalez Naranjo Y Sabino by Los Gallitos Del Sur
Alright, buckle up, amigos, because we’re diving into a slice of pure Norteño gold. Released way back in 1982 (yes, the same year E.T. was phoning home), this album from Los Gallitos Del Sur is like your abuela’s secret recipe—authentic, raw, and packed with enough flavor to make you forget about that microwave burrito you had for lunch.
The title track, La Venganza De Juanita Gonzalez, hits hard right outta the gate. It’s got that classic accordion-driven Norteño vibe, but what sticks with me is its storytelling swagger. Picture this: Juanita, probably wearing some fierce boots, out for revenge. You don’t know exactly why she’s mad—maybe someone stole her tamale recipe or insulted her horse—but dang, does she mean business. The lyrics are dramatic, emotional, and kinda hilarious, which is basically Norteño in a nutshell. Plus, the band’s energy? Ridiculous. They sound like they’ve been sipping café cubano all day.
Then there’s Naranjo Y Sabino. Oh boy, this one sneaks up on you. At first listen, it feels like a laid-back corrido, perfect for leaning back in your chair while pretending you’re deep in thought. But give it a second, and you’ll notice how smooth the harmonies are. The guitar and accordion dance together like old friends who’ve had one too many cervezas at a family fiesta. I swear, every time I hear this track, I wanna grab a sombrero and start two-stepping around my living room. It’s impossible not to move to this groove—it’s science.
Now, let’s talk production. This ain’t no studio-perfect pop album, folks. Discos Cobra kept things real, meaning you can almost hear the sweat dripping off the musicians during recording sessions. And honestly? That’s what makes it so dang charming. It’s rough around the edges, sure, but that grit gives it soul. Like churros without cinnamon, anything smoother would just feel… wrong.
So here’s the kicker. Listening to this album feels like stepping into a time machine that smells faintly of carne asada and nostalgia. But more than that, it reminds me that music doesn’t need bells and whistles to hit you in the feels. Sometimes, all it takes is an angry woman named Juanita and a couple of dudes singing about trees (or whatever Naranjo Y Sabino is really about).
Final thought? If aliens ever invade Earth, I’m playing this album loud enough for them to hear. Because if they can appreciate the beauty of Norteño, maybe—just maybe—they won’t zap us into oblivion.
Rating: 8/10
(Points deducted for not including instructions on how to properly polka while listening.)
