Like a Colombian Durga levitating in the sky, Bomba Estéreo’s Li Saumet lulls us into immediate submission at the outset of the video for Sofi Tukker’s latest single (for it is the era of single releases only–then again, this could likely show up on a sophomore effort), “Playa Grande.” Directed by none other than Grimes’ brother, Mac Boucher, the psychedelic sound translates into visuals tailor-made for a drug-addled bender on the beach. Incidentally–and speaking once more to Saumet’s Durga vibes–it is a playa that feels more like Goa than Costeño Beach in Bomba Estéreo’s native Colombia.
Luring their North American counterparts into the many delights of South American culture, Sophie Hawley-Weld dips into a bath filled with flowers here and dunks herself into the ocean water there, all the while singing, “We’re gonna have a party/I’m gonna dance until my shoes ask me to stop/So I stop, take off my shoes/Dance until I’m bruised.And all my clothes fall off/Vamos a bailar.” Because yes, what more traditional summer activity is there than dancing the night away? Even in the screen-addicted culture of now. To further enhance the whimsy of the song, there is a point where Hawley-Weld recites lines from Chacal, the Brazilian poet whose words were also featured in Sofi Tukker’s breakout hit, “Drinkee” (the duo clearly has a predilection for poetry as they also referenced Mary Oliver on “Hey Lion,” another song from their Soft Animals EP).
In the meantime, Tucker Halpern goes on his own “spiritual” journey as he juggles two earths in between having an ornate necklace placed around his nape. He’s far more off in his own universe(s) than Hawley-Weld and Saumet, who eventually find themselves communing while the latter is in her levitating Durga-esque iteration, holding a shrunken Halwey-Weld in the palm of her hand as she sensually demands, “Do you speak Spanish?” One supposes we all should by now, though of course, that’s the last thing Trump would “allow.”
Horseback riding along the playa in the style of Madonna in Comporta, the song reaches a crescendo with a nighttime bonfire party (with Hawley-Weld and Saumet crossing their sticks–no innuendo intended–to light the fire in question). With the crowd dancing in unison as one around the trifecta of Saumet, Hawley-Weld and Halpern, the party doesn’t stop until the break of dawn, when they are once more calm (at least ephemerally) as they sit perched on their horses, Hawley-Weld standing serenely off to the side, presumably waiting to do it all again until the summer is over.
