Los Amigos Invisibles

I find that the architecture of Caracas makes you wonder if it is perhaps mired in the 70s, and the music of Los Amigos Invisibles (who are straight outta Caracas) certainly helps to cement the image. Their stage antics come across as greasy as the "larded meat" I discovered the first time I was in Venezuela, coupled with machismo as stinky as Guyanese cheese. If you like to shake your bootie to cheesy Latin-influenced disco, this show's for you. You'll have to do it without me, though. Two years ago, I had the misfortune of seeing them when I wasn't in the mood for their schtick - given the choice between seeing them again and cleaning the NYC subway system with my tongue, well, I'd probably fall on the sword for the Big Apple. They're good at what they do, but it's not for me. I can cut them huge quantities of slack, though, for naming one of their albums ('Arepa 3000') after my favorite Venezulean fried cornmeal biscuit. Mmmm. Cornmeal biscuit. Mmmm.

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