Drawing upon timeless Latin song forms such as cumbia, salsa, and meringue, but frequently expanding the roots to include elements of funk, dub, and psychedelia, Grupo Fantasma aren't strict traditionalists per se. Even a casual listener could easily pick up the occasional similarities to War or old-school Santana, for example - and as classic as both artists might sound today, it's worth remembering that they were quite revolutionary at the time for their genre-splicing. Still, unlike contemporaries such as Ozomatli, the band does not seem overly beholden to the idea of sounding uber-modern or "of the now" - there are no rappers or turntablists or post-hip hop songwriting structures on Sonidos Gold, in other words.

The fact is, most of the disc sounds like a long-lost artifact from the '60s or '70s - a quality certain to delight any true-blue lover of soul and funk, as those two decades form the pinnacle for such sounds. One frequent point of comparison Grupo is likely to garner, particularly thanks to the new record: the unbelievably funky Latin jazz/boogaloo juggernaut the Fania All-Stars, an ever-rotating crew of largely New York-based groove superstars from the flawless Fania label, including Ray Barretto, Willie Colón, Johnny Pacheco, and pianist-arranger Larry Harlow. The resemblance is helped by the addition of Harlow as an auxiliary member on Sonidos Gold: his piano and keyboard work here keeps the album rooted in the golden age of Latin funk. If you've ever fallen prey to the fast and furious grind of the Fania sound, this one should hit you just as hard.

As one should probably expect, almost all of Sonidos Gold is sung in Spanish - and while knowledge of the language obviously doesn't hurt, it also need not be a prerequisite, considering the wonder of the grooves contained within. If dance music truly does transcend all language barriers - and I honestly believe it does - then the inability to follow along to the words shouldn't really preclude anyone from succumbing to Grupo Fantasma's seductive rhythms. Sure, maybe those without any fluency in Spanish might not be able to shout along to the chanted vocals of roof-raisers such as "Levantate" with the same levels of bravado, but there are plenty of other ways to feel equally connected to the music - the group's intricate polyrhythms practically scream for crowd participation, thanks to the layers of congas and timbales pounding away here. And while knowing that the ensemble is actually singing, "The eyes are going to see / the body is pleasure" doesn't hurt, there's something implicit in the song's sultry horn-filled pulse that conveys the same message without speaking a single word.

"Levantate" also offers a few flashes of carefully measured dub echo heaped upon the guitar, in order to ratchet up the drama before exploding into electrifying unison-vocal and horn duels over timbalero Jose Galeano's blazing rhythms. The technique is deployed to tremendous effect on "Bacalao Con Pan," a stretched-out eight-minute rave-up that imagines a collaboration between early Funkadelic and the Fania roster, thanks to inspired use of echo as well as some wonderfully head-floating keyboard work from Harlow.

There's a similar space-jazz key-twinkling on Arroz Con Frijoles", and it pairs tremendously with the thick blankets of reverb applied to the easily learned chorus of "Aah, aah, ahh, arroz con frijoles." About three-quarters of the way into the song, the rhythm suddenly shifts - double-time, triple-time! Screaming horns, battling congas and timbales - total dancefloor emancipation, to be sure.

Those seeking to relive the fiery majesty of early Santana will be well served by the frantic "Rumba y Guaganco," a traditional Yoruba chant given a splendid wah-wah guitar and funk-keyboard makeover, while the addition of invincible saxophonist Maceo Parker on "Gimme Some" delivers a bit of JB's groove to the song's delirious hip-wiggling War shuffle. That irresistible scrape of the guiro, a thumping woodblock rhythm, a feisty low-end rumble, and choppy electric guitar - it's a potent combination, and when the combo gives a quick little shout-out to Latin jazz maestro Willie Bobo's 1965 anthem "Spanish Grease," the dam busts wide open, kids. Genius.

Lastly, here's hoping album closer "Perso Fra i Mesquites" points to further explorations for Grupo Fantasma: the moody cha cha cha travelogue of reverb-heavy surf guitar, tearful violins, and drifting accordion left me scanning the liner notes for Angelo Badalamenti songwriting credits, only to end up even more impressed with the band than before, once I discovered it was a Grupo Fantasma composition. By the track's breathless mariachi horn climax, I couldn't possibly have felt more caught up in my own personal big-screen melodrama. I'm wowed.

Here's a clip of Grupo performing "Gimme Some":