With fired-up reggaetoneros and diamond-encrusted traperos at the core of the Latin airwaves, the dominance of Colombia's
Camilo proves a potent anomaly. Every part the everyman, the vocalist's stories deal in sugary kisses, earnest humility, and beach-bound joy -- typically the fare of campfire ballads, not global anthems. Yet global anthems they've become. With all four of its singles past the 100-million-stream mark (and "Vida de Rico" already past the half-billion),
Mis Manos arrives with a promise of international success -- a success it finds on the back of uncluttered songwriting, organic instrumentals, and a woozy dose of free-spiritedness. Having spent years writing hits for the likes of
Becky G and
Bad Bunny, Camilo Echeverry is a man who knows the potency of his words. However, his work under the
Camilo moniker switches the scope, moving the focus from global glitz to self-effacing sentiments and sun-flecked wooing. It's a stark contrast to the "devorarte como animal"s of contemporary successes, but it's one that's brought to colorful fruition by
Camilo's bright tones and earworm hooks. It's the shocking simplicity of his lyrics that drives them to their gleeful heights, though: choruses grow organically from calls of "que sí" and playful "ay-ay-ay"s, while
Camilo riffs with lively aplomb. There's an almost Disney-like magic to the whole affair.
A similar ease is found in the vocalist's soundscapes.
Camilo's organic approach to instrumentation manages to squeeze every last drop out of its rural minimalism. The intimate, clicking drums of "Machu Picchu," the flirty guitar flicks of "Mareado," the despondent pianist of "Manos de Tijera" -- each is beautifully rendered by some of the finest mastering in the genre, giving even the simplest of summertime anthems the profound depth of a classic. The results speak for themselves: the calypso-like "KESI" bursts with Caribbean flair, the norteño "Tuyo y Mío" sashays with grace, and "BEBÉ" provides one of Latin pop's catchiest breakup anthems. "Machu Picchu," a duet between
Camilo and his wife, Evaluna Montaner, proves touchingly intimate. There's something fundamentally timeless about what
Camilo is making here. The album's songs feel fundamentally out of time, caught in a summer where emotions tumble with a childlike spirit. While maybe lacking the development of a career-defining opus,
Mis Manos nonetheless thrives in its own optimistic beauty. ~ David Crone