The Texas Tornados’ self-titled 1990 debut was more than a pleasant surprise, it was a damn good record. It had Tex-Mex rave-ups from Augie Meyers (“Que Paso” and “Dinero”), a Freddy Fender tear-in-your-beer ballad (“A Man Can Cry”), an eye-opening accordion workout by Flaco Jimenez (“Soy de San Luis”), and the style and exuberant presence of Sir Doug Sahm to hold things together. It was Tejas in a bottle. Heck, I still listen to that record, and still get a kick out of it.
With Zone of Our Own in 1991, Los Tornados delivered a pretty good sophomore record, but its similar groove, this time not armed with the element of surprise, didn’t deliver the same punch as the debut. By the time the aptly titled Hangin’ by a Thread was released in 1992, the fellas has switched it into autopilot. At that point, it felt like the Texas Tornados had been downgraded to (at most) a summer squall and probably would probably not be heard from again.
During a recent calm stretch here in ’96, the skies over the Lone Star state got mighty dark might fast, and the Tornados blew back onto the scene. The new record is called 4 Aces, and it recaptures that initial feeling: It’s an over-the-top Tex-Mex outdoor cerveza-garden summer festival just waiting to happen.
The party gets started right away with Sahm’s “A Little Bit is Better than Nada” which takes about 10 seconds to set the mood. First comes Doug’s drawl, next Flaco’s lilting accordion, then Augie’s percussive keyboards, and finally that hook (“A little bit is better than nada / Sometimes you want the whole enchilada”).
For the rest of the record, each of the self-described four aces takes his turn at center stage and delivers the goods. Like the best of his stuff, the Freddy Fender ballads “In My Mind” and “My Cruel Pain” are delivered with a wink that permits sincerity and goofiness to happily coexist. Flaco Jimenez combines his vocal and accordion virtuosity on the joyous “Mi Morenita”, while Augie Meyers takes the lead for a boy-loses-girl border tale called “Rosalita”. The finest moments on this one, though, belong to de facto leader Sahm. His “Ta Bueno Compadre” and “Clinging to You” are like a pair of gems pulled from the heyday of the Sir Douglas era.
The more I listen to 4 Aces, the more I like it. This record isn’t especially philosophical (is that a kazoo at the end of the Joe “King” Carasco tune “Tell Me”?), but it sure feels good. And while the Tornados aren’t covering any new ground here, they are moving with casual grace and unmasked joy across the familiar Tejano territory to which they staked adjacent claims three decades ago.
