Parrandera Rebelde y Atrevida

Some angry young men and angry young women mellow with time. They reach their thirties, calm down, let go of their youthful angst (some of it, anyway), and tell the media, "Hey, I'm not the same person at 30 (or 35) that I was at 19. I'm just not." But Jenni Rivera, at least ten albums into her career, shows no signs of letting go of her angst and anger on Parrandera, Rebelde y Atrevida — and from a creative standpoint, that's probably for the best because angry is something that she does extremely well. There is as much anger on Parrandera, Rebelde y Atrevida as you would find on Alanis Morissette's Jagged Little Pill; Rivera, arguably, is banda's answer to Pill-era Morissette, and this 2005 release is full of bitter diatribes against all the desgraciados, infelices, y malditos c****nes who have done her wrong. What is a desgraciado, an infeliz, or a maldito c****n? Well, those who speak español can tell you that it's the sort of guy Rivera lambasts on this album — a guy who's a real SOB. The sort of guy who, sadly, never has a hard time getting a date (as shock jock Tom Leykis often points out on his show), the sort of guy Rivera was once attracted to (hopefully, her taste has improved), and the sort of guy she rails against on much of Parrandera, Rebelde y Atrevida. Of course, hearing a female singer using male-dominated banda to describe — in a totally in-your-face fashion — her negative experiences with men is part of what makes her a delightfully ironic and unique figure in regional Mexican music. It's worked well for Rivera on previous albums, and it continues to work well for her on Parrandera, Rebelde y Atrevida.