For Americans, disco will forever be a shameful footnote in the history books, a period when big hair, soulless drum machine beats, and stupid clothing reigned supreme. Sure, we can also claim the blues, rock and roll, and hip-hop. But we'll never forget disco, a big, hairy mole on the face of American music.

It seems only Americans are privy to this secret shame, though. While the predominant sentiment in this country still seems to be "disco sucks," many of our overseas friends don't seem to agree. Whether it's genuine interest in the form, or merely the wish to throw our own musical shit back in our faces, countless musicians from the UK, Japan, France, and other parts of the world have taken disco into their care, bastardized it by fusing it with more "respectable" forms of music, and sold it back to an unsuspecting public.

It's sort of understandable, too. After all, if you're far enough away from the ground zero of disco fever, you avoid inundation, and can maintain an attitude of "oh, cute," as opposed to, "oh, no!" I'd always assumed, however, that a good deal of geographical distance, including at least one major body of water, was necessary to be comfortable with co-opting disco. Looks like I miscalculated. With Juan Manuel, the Mexican group Plastilina Mosh prove that our friends South of the border have caught on to the disco craze as well, even if they are about 25 years late.

Juan Manuel is a warped, frenetic blend of disco, hip-hop, lounge, funk, and fractured pop. But mostly disco. Just cue up "Boombox Baby," with its wah guitar, funk bass, drum machine beat, and "meet me on the dance floor/ D! I! S! C! O!" refrain for a prime example of Plastilina's unique take on... uh... post-disco?

Other songs, such as the bizarre out-of-sync, piano-driven instrumental that opens up the album, and the smooth lounge of "Shampoo," showcase the band's strengths without succumbing to kitschy disco imitation. At its best, Juan Manuel brings to mind Os Mutantes taking a kitchen-sink approach to music, and obviously having fun some in the process. Unfortunately, an unhealthy obsession with drum machines and vocoders sometimes prevents that fun from carrying over to the listener's side of things.

One thing the records certainly has going for it, though, is flat-out awesome production. Beta Band producer Chris Allison twiddled the knobs here, and the result is a dense record, chock-full of neato sonic nuggets. But whereas the best Beta Band tracks play out like microcosmic noise symphonies, there's nothing nearly as intense to be found on Juan Manuel.

Though it can be downright annoying at times, the album certainly demonstrates that Plastilina Mosh isn't afraid to fuck around-- perhaps the greatest single sign that a band has potential. Still, I can't shake the feeling that if these guys could only smash the mirror ball, they'd release a damn fine album. Regardless, this is one fairly tasty Mexican import that won't leave you spending days on the crapper.

-Matt LeMay