NAAFI: Bass without borders

A balmy Wednesday evening in the heart of Brooklyn and four members of Mexican party crew/record label NAAFI are gathered at the Mixmag office, a warehouse-style space with huge versions of past magazine covers on the walls. They’re buzzing from a performance at The Lab NYC moments before, a raucous set of their signature, eclectic, bass-heavy music that had a diverse crowd gyrating for two solid hours.

Alberto Bustamante, Tomás Davo, Lauro Robles and Paul Marmota each define a specific aspect of NAAFI. Lauro, who is rocking an oversized pink T-shirt and has the sides of his head buzzed with curly blonde hair on top, represents the A&R side. Alberto, a thin, tattooed, outspoken character with a narrow moustache who is also known as Mexican Jihad, is passionate about the way the public interprets NAAFI. He heads up the creative direction, while Paul, a quiet yet cheerful Chilean who sports a six-panel baseball cap, and Tomás, a burly giant with thick circle rimmed glasses, aids in the day-to-day operations. They act like friends who have known each other since birth, yet they only met back in 2010, the year they decided to throw their first event.

In those early days, many talented Latin electronic music producers were struggling for recognition. As any Facebook analyst knows, Mexico, and Mexico City in particular, is a hot-bed of enthusiasm for electronic music, but tastes tend to gravitate towards mainstream sounds with clubs and big branded outdoor events pumping out EDM popularised north of the border and a desire among fans for bottle service. But as with everywhere, there was an underground of creative people looking to innovate in. And those are the people NAAFI has sought to bring together. Named after the Navy, Army and Air Force Institute, which runs recreational establishments for the British army, the collective is putting together a force of resistance to the mainstream that focuses on the experimental side of bass music, made by Latin artists. They fuse rhythms and textures to reinterpret footwork, grime, Jersey club, kuduro and more, much of which is unlike anything currently being produced – as is clear on their recent ‘Pirata 3’ compilation featuring Imaabs, Zutzut and Santa Muerte, among others.

“You have to keep in mind the economic differences,” explains Alberto when describing the difficulties NAAFI face on their home turf. They are still a niche collective up against the Mexican club scene that at times makes it hard for them to operate. “Young people in Mexico City don’t have consumer power to spend on nightlife,” explains Alberto. “Here in NYC everybody puts on a party with whoever is around. You can have a beautiful line-up with friends who are just passing through. But getting good contemporary talent to come down to Mexico City is a big investment. What NAAFI is doing is investing money to fly out artists from other parts of the world. Not many media outlets or other peers that we have internationally understand what it means for us to take the risks.”

Along with bringing artists like L-Vis 1990 and Kingdom over to Mexico, NAAFI are redefining the scope of ‘Latin’ dance music culture, shrugging off the usual clichés associated with it. As Alberto says, “we want to separate ourselves from the stereotypical ‘Latin’ connotation or vocabulary. For most people, if they see a party coming from Latin America, they think of palm trees and cumbia and the usual references. That wasn’t the case for us; it wouldn’t make sense.”

Although NAAFI began as an outlet for crew members to exhibit music they found creatively fascinating, it indirectly served as a channel for locals to enjoy themselves at a time when the outside world was severely struggling. The drug war in Mexico has had a significant impact on the whole country, but with regards to NAAFI’s scene, the authorities placed a strict focus on curtailing the youth and nightlife communities.

“It was a very hectic and politically charged social situation for the country,” says Alberto. He recalls a time when the NAAFI crew had to scour the city for safe venues. ‘Mexican Jihad’, which is Alberto’s moniker, is a result of that climate. “We were experiencing a full-on drug war, which was essentially a war on young people. This whole narrative of a drug war was really against nightlife, youth cultures and entertainment. In select cities people were not allowed to go outside past 8pm because of a curfew and this was happening all over Mexico. So in the beginning the party was a real resistance space.”

Strict laws meant certain styles of music weren’t allowed to be played in clubs because they were thought to attract unsavoury people. NAAFI defied these rules, taking to the gritty underbelly of Mexico City to throw their parties at run-down locations that only added to their raw motif. “The parties became more politically charged,” explains Alberto. “It wasn’t necessarily intended, it was more of a reflection of what was happening in our environment. We wanted to create an atmosphere for people to have fun without restrictions.”

Asked to describe a typical party, they pause. Paul and Tomás look to Lauro and Alberto, who gaze back at them. It’s clear this is not something easily put into words. Each NAAFI event tends to take on a life of its own, but a common theme is a dark atmosphere in an abandoned building, construction site, basement or underground club. Lauro describes the atmosphere as hot, sweaty and energetic with bass tones you can feel deep in your chest, while Alberto simply says they’re “very sexy”. They all agree their parties are intense, but say they have a welcoming atmosphere that promotes diversity. Attention is paid to the community aspect, bringing like-minded people together in an environment where they feel safe to express themselves. Those are the core values of NAAFI.

Tomás and Alberto discuss how the music they release reflects the collective’s essence. The key criteria for a NAAFI artist is to be genuine, personable and, as Alberto states, “not a douchebag. All the NAAFI artists are totally comfortable with who they are, even if they are freaks, and the crew consists of people who will not compromise their music to be economically viable. It’s not about that.”

In order to showcase the outlook of NAAFI, Mixmag recently hosted the premiere of Tribes: NAAFI, a documentary produced by Smirnoff Sound Collective that takes viewers to the streets of Mexico City and inside the lives of its core members. “All our artists came together for the first time,” says Alberto. “It allowed us to show the full scope of the project and reach a broader audience. To collaborate with a brand that has that reach is something we greatly appreciate. Our goal is to reach as many people as possible and Smirnoff Sound Collective allowed us to do that.”

NAAFI has grown to gather members across Central and South America, including Argentina, Uruguay, Puerto Rico, Chile and beyond. The underground scene of Mexico City would not be what it is without NAAFI, though they don’t like to classify themselves as underground at all. They aim to have a global cultural impact by delivering a platform for their fellow Latin artists to present their vision, though the vision is not easily defined. “Eventually we realised the term ‘NAAFI’ was out of our hands. Now it’s not only what we say it is, it’s more what people interpret it to be – and,” Alberto looks to his comrades who nod in approval, “that’s completely fine with us.”

Watch Tribes Ep.2: NAAFI here