National Geographic Music (National Geographic)

It wouldn't be an overstatement to say that guitarist Adrian Quesada has the Midas touch. The thirty-two-year-old musician has achieved a credible amount of success by seemingly stumbling into golden opportunities, a quality he shrugs off and smiles about. Best known for his role in Latin neo-traditionalists Grupo Fantasma and futuristic Latin soul duo Ocote Soul Sounds-a project he co-founded with Antibalas creator Martín Perna (when Perna's vegetable oil-run bus collapsed in Texas)-Quesada's most recent incarnation, Brownout, is making similarly seismic waves.

Brownout was formed from burn out, so that Grupo Fantasma members would not suffer salsa overload. Designed to keep their "funk chops up," Quesada and crew have released their first album on Six Degrees Records, Aquilas and Cobras, trailing their successful 2008 debut, Homenaje (Freestyle Records). With a sound that harks back to the early '70s Latin funk heyday of bands like Malo and Sapo; Brownout is more
Santana surfing ayahuasca skies than the JB's at the Apollo. The band's nasty guitar riffs and booming congas demonstrate why these guys were asked to be Prince's house band at his Las Vegas 3121 Club.

Nat Geo Music caught up with Quesada on the phone at his Austin, TX home, where he was preparing for two tours, one opening for Thievery Corporation with Ocote Soul Sounds, the other to support Brownout's latest effort.

Nat Geo Music: What are the differences between Grupo Fantasma and Brownout?

Funny enough, the way Grupo Fantasma came about was when a group of friends, who were all in a couple of different bands, got together and played a few shows for fun. At the time, we were similar with what Brownout is doing now, with more traditional Latin stuff mixed in. As we took it more seriously, we decided to focus more on the Latin tip. Grupo Fantasma ended up taking off, and the next thing you know, two-and-a-half years later Brownout came about as a way to keep our funk chops up. It was also a way to get a break from Grupo Fantasma, because that was all we were doing, and we were getting scared that we would burn out.

When did you begin taking Brownout seriously?

It took about a year until we starting taking Brownout halfway seriously. We recorded a few songs and put out a forty-five, and it just took off, through blogs and word of mouth and djs and tastemakers. We sold out of our first pressing. It seemed to fall into all the right people's hands, and the next thing you know, there is a buzz about brownout.

What about Ocote Soul Sounds?

I started working with Martín in 2002. My wife had moved to New York for a little while, and she moved in with someone who was friends with Antibalas, so I went up and got in touch with them. I had been a fan for a while. At that time, Martín had converted a bus to run on vegetable oil, and was taking a trip down to Mexico. He came by and stayed in our house. That first record came about because their bus broke down in Texas and we started playing together.

There's a strong musical community in Austin?

When we first started out ten years ago, it was not as concentrated. The audience was a little more divided. Back then, there was not that big of an audience for this type of music. Without taking too much credit for it, Grupo Fantasma was at the beginning stages of expanding the sounds of this area. We avoided Latin nights and stuff like that; we played rock clubs, and had djs open for us, which was still a somewhat new idea at the time. Austin has also grown a lot with the influx of people coming in.

There seems to be more global music at South by Southwest lately?

Oh yeah, every year there is more and more.

Ocote Soul Sounds is on Thievery Corporation's label, ESL Recordings. How did you link up with them?

We originally printed 1000 copies of the first Ocote Soul Sounds record on our own, and we honestly didn't expect people to take to it. We were selling that at our shows, handing them out to our friends. I never even presented it to any record labels. But people were really interested in what we were trying to do with that music. One day I backstage at a festival and I sat down and turned to my right, and Thievery Corporation was right there. Without bothering them too much, I pulled a copy out of my bag and handed it over. The following Monday I received an email saying they wanted to put it out.

How did you end up working with Prince?

In 2006 we had a connection through somebody I used to work for. We mailed the CD to him, and we heard he had a Latin night in his club in Las Vegas. Next thing you know he says he likes theCD, and he had an opening over Thanksgiving weekend. We canceled all our shows and hopped on a plane. There were not many people there, and I did not even see Prince, but apparently he was at the side of the stage the whole show. We thought he'd come talk to us backstage after the show. He didn't, but by the time we got home we had a call from his management that he wanted us to come up every Thursday to perform. So we started flying up to be his house band. Eventually he sat in with us, and we started getting more phone calls to back him.

That's a lot of weekly travel.

All in a hard day's work.

I'm sure it was worthwhile, though.

Yeah, well Vegas started taking its toll after a while. But being able to back him and meet him-I would never in a million years have thought that it would happen.

I know Brownout was influenced by James Brown. I would imagine Prince being a tight bandleader as well.

Yeah, man, there were times when you couldn't help but think you're playing with Maceo Parker. Prince is the heir to the throne of James Brown rolled up with Jimi Hendrix and Sly Stone, but Prince is his own man, really. To get the seal of approval from him was huge for me.

I've seen Prince perform twice, and both times I was amazed by the presentation of his music. You can't take your eyes off the stage.

That's probably the biggest thing I took walking away from that. His attention to detail and how he puts a show together is astounding. He breaks everything apart and puts it back together to present in front of 50,000 people. If we can get one page out of that book right, we're doing our job.

Back to Brownout, can we talk about some other musical influences?

James Brown is one, as it is for most funk bands that are still trying to play raw and gritty funk. One of the unsung heroes of the music is Mandrill. It was one of the few bands that integrated a little Latin funk, with a little rock guitar with a sinister edge to it. It was at the top of our list. Malo was a little more traditional but still had a hard-hitting beat behind it. There are a ton of bands coming out in this genre in the early '70s, but those were the two biggest influences on our sound.

Have you checked out any chicha music, the great '60s/'70s psychedelic sounds out of Peru?

Funny enough, the early early Grupo Fantasma was influenced by it. We didn't even know it was called chicha. We had a friend in Mexico who had gone to Peru and brought some back for us. Next thing you know it comes back as chicha. We were influenced by the psychedelic guitar feel of that music.

On the record, you tackle some personal issues, like the Mexican/US border on "Con El Cuente."

Of course we're just scratching the surface and by no means is Brownout trying to take a strong political stance. However, we try to avoid the idea of what you shouldn't say in a funk song or any sort of coming down on people. Those lyrics just came into my head, and I worked with one of the guitarists on them. I prefer lyrics that leave room for the imagination. The song touches on people who go across the border daily. It's become so dangerous that more and more people are coming up into the States, and not returning. It's frustrating to see the city you grew up in be viewed as a dangerous place, because it's so much more than that. It's a very real and complicated situation, though, much more than you can fit in on one CNN clip.

My favorite track has to be "Tell Her She's Lovely."

That song has been one of our favorite songs for years, the version recorded by El Chicaono. A friend of mine from New York turned me onto the original. This year at SXSW I was turned onto another version, and so we decided to take a stab at it. We got on the idea about jumping off the bus of what Latin music should be, and we asked a friend who had never sang on a funk or soul song before, Rene Villanueva of Hacienda, a great band. Rene has such an interesting '60s style phrasing, not quite on the beat. It was really a last minute experiment. We recorded that track the day before we submitted the record.

How about "Framed by Death," which was inspired by the documentary, Man on Wire?

I watched that film on a flight. A lot of what that main character said stayed in my head, especially when he talked about being "framed by death." When writing instrumental songs, the toughest part is finding a focal point, and that idea kind of fit the tune.

I read Grupo Fantasma has played in Iraq.

We've been there twice. We were asked to go down there and play for the Latino troops. A lot of them are younger, and the more traditional music that was being brought down was not going so well, so they turned to us. A lot of the guys in the band were completely against it. Obviously no one in the band is for the war, but the more we talked about it, we realized we're not going over there for the war, but for the people in an unfortunate situation of having to be there. First and foremost we are entertainers and not activists, and we figured we could play our part by supporting these troops and playing for them. Sometimes people need to get a smile on their face and not worry about what's going on around them. It was very meaningful to entertain people over there. It really humanized the entire experience for us.