By Jacob Katel
By Laurie Charles
By Nate "Igor" Smith
By Abel Folgar
By Kat Bein
By Jacob Katel
The New York Times may have raved about the Spam Allstars to no end. S.O.B.'s (also in New York) may have become the band members' second home. MTV might feature them with a page of their own, and the festival circuit might have latched on to their patented brand of groove thang. But for all intents and cross-cult purposes they remain a Miami band. Hell, in more than a few certain swingin' circles, they're the Miami band.
We're talkin' Spam Allstars, natch, the only gang in town who truly encompasses our multitudes.
You've caught 'em on a Thursday, shaking the rafters of the fabled Hoy Como Ayer; you've caught 'em on a Saturday, bringing down the stars at the North Beach bandshell; and you've caught 'em on the walk, on the run, and in your ride, when your drive becomes one with the universal funky. And each time the catch has been better than the last. With the release of their latest album, the indisputably magnifico electrodomesticos, you're bound to get caught up all over again.
And if supporting the latest from your favorite homegrown heavies isn't reason enough to get you dancing downtown, consider a) the first 50 through the door for this party get a free disc, b) the 'stars will be marking the occasion with a brand new clip, and c) the bash is at Studio A, the very best place to catch cool.
Need we swing more?