Dismiss the Mystery (Compact Disc)

Latin powerhouse Salvador is an anomaly in Christian music. The tireless sextet has managed to outlast many of its contemporaries during the seven years it’s remained in existence.

Yet, it’s unclear how these guys do it. Their sonic gusto is far removed from the stock pop and rock stylings of the moment. Their albums aren’t necessarily hot sellers. Radio seldom gives them any love, their cover of Los Lonely Boys’ “Heaven” notwithstanding. And they don’t have a dramatic testimony—normally a last resort in a market that thrives on the power of story to sell an album.

Unfazed, Salvador soldiers on. Since its inception, the group has endured several transformations—stylistically, in membership and otherwise—which have taken these hermanos from Latin rock (their self-titled debut) and the nether regions of Latin pop (Into Motion) to Tex-Mex-influenced Latin folk (Con Poder) and Latin funk-rock (So Natural).

There isn’t one song on the new album, Dismiss the Mystery, that can’t be traced back to a previous recording. That in itself is commendable, as the group has tried insistently to capture on disc “the Salvador sound,” which, incidentally, has been a fixture at all its live shows, yet was never quite present in any of the band’s previous studio sessions.

One need not look further than the incendiary opener “Now That I Have You”—a romp that moves naturally from funk-pop and Latin fusion into a straight-up salsa fiesta—to realize how much the group has tightened up its act; it’s arguably the most addictive thing Salvador has ever committed to tape.

Recorded at Willie Nelson’s renowned Pedernales Studios in the band’s Austin hometown, Mystery hardly lets up, each subsequent track a creature with a life of its own. Though similar in their warm-bloodedness, all the songs boast distinctive traits, whether it’s cascading riff lines (“Neighbor”), menacing horn sections (“None Greater Than You”) or the Latin-rock swagger of Santana (“Te Enaltezco Dios”).

Even in all of its rhythmic revelry, Salvador still has a soft spot for mid-tempo balladry, evident in the placid first single “Shine,” the prayerful “Waterfall” and the fervent “Trying to Be the Sun.” These meditative slow-burners appear targeted to an older fanbase—they’re less threatening, for sure—but they still belong in the Salvador canon.

It all amounts to Salvador’s most complete opus to date—an album where the band’s sizzling in-concert musicianship and mastery meet its on-record diversity and artistry.

ANDREE FARIAS

Review Provided by CCMmagazine.com