The Copper Gamins
The Copper Gamins area garage musical outfit originating in Zinacantepec MX, Mexico.
The duo consists of guitarist/vocalist J. Carmen and drummer Claus Lafania.
The Copper Gamins gave their first show one year and some months ago, soon relocating the band to San Antonio and then Austin some months ago.
The duo's sound is heavily rooted in simplicity and improvisation found in garage rock, and pre 70s music.
They have released a self tittled EP recorded on analog tape in an abandoned house, and are currently working in conjunction with Saustex Records.
This is part of a live show review from the San Antonio Current:
By Enrique Lopetegui
PUBLISHED: AUGUST 31, 2011
Carmen used to play drums before taking up the guitar a couple of years ago. Lafania, a guitarist, settled on drums to be able to play with Carmen, and it is easy to understand why. “Ruby Red” was one of the most explosive, groovy openers of any show I’ve seen this year. Carmen shreds and twangs with unusual ferocity, but he’s a master of silences as well. His thing is to deconstruct the blues into a rhythmic mass that, when it’s actually finished, works like a cannon. Lafania is still finding his way on the kit, but he understands exactly what Carmen needs: someone who can groove along and knows when to stop.
Local Review of The Copper Gamins: The Copper Gamins
By Enrique Lopetegui
PUBLISHED: JULY 27, 2011
Zinacantepec, Mexico's José Carmen (guitar) and Claudio Lafania (drums) recently moved to San Antonio and are the latest White Stripes-offshoot to grace our town. When I asked them why they sang in English even while living in Mexico, Carmen said, "Because we like the blues." Huh? He sings like a spoiled six-year-old whose favorite toy has been stolen, and the EP sounds like an early precarious demo. Despite this, they know what they're doing. The Gamins are not into virtuosity or polished production values. It's power and attitude that they're concerned with, captured perfectly on four tracks and analog tape. Their darkness is tempered by a couple of blues standards they deconstruct into a crash course on aggression: Southern traditional "Old Lady Sittin' in the Dining Room" and Mississippi John Hurt's "Candyman Blues." The Gamins took these mellow originals and furiously reinvented each as something that has a life of its own. Along with the rest of the album, the result is intriguing enough for me to want to catch these guys live soon. Only then will I know, for sure, whether it's copper or gold we're talking about.