Coined by André Breton in response to Salvador Dalí’s increasing financial gains, the phrase “Avida Dollars” (an acronym of Dalí’s own name) was employed by the surrealist progenitor to critique Dalí’s perceived capitalist tendencies. Whether Breton was truly incensed at Dalí’s success (or perhaps, his increasingly fascist captivations) remains undecided, but in the light of his colleague’s ever more corporate collaborations, Breton no doubt felt that the unconscious goals of his manifesto had suffered somewhat.
In the 2000s, Antón Álvarez Alfaro has endured similar critiques. Having forged his place in Spanish hip-hop under the alias of Crema, the rapper now known as C. Tangana received significant backlash for his move toward more modern rap threads. The weight of this criticism is a silent presence across the rapper’s 2018 mixtape, Avida Dollars: Opener “Still Rapping” is stalwart in its titular defiance, while “Cabernet Sauvignon” bats away critics with a simple “¿Quién quiere tu respeto cuando tengo un millón?” Elsewhere, Tangana speaks more directly to his critics: "el arte de los negocios es el paso que sigue al arte” proves a bold closing statement for “Baile de la Lluvia.” Wherever you look, there’s a sense that Alfaro still has something to substantiate.
Unfortunately, Avida Dollars is far from a statement piece. There are moments of greatness here -- the freewheeling sauce of “Huele a Nuevo,” the “Roll in Peace”-like flows of “Sangre,” the earworm “prefiero un beso, tus besos” of “Llorando en la Limo” -- but Avida feels more like a transitional stage than a standalone album. Looking to adjust to modern trap’s airier sonics, Alfaro is trapped in a mode of chameleon-like negotiation, trying to find his own spin on the genre’s zeitgeist. Though the mixtape format has always offered this potential for growth, it usually comes with the flexibility of a sprawling track list; Avida Dollars is just 23 minutes long, ensuring that any signs of weakness significantly tank the project’s momentum.
And when treading new ground, such signs are inevitable: “Na de Na” adopts the repetitive hooks of groups like the Migos but doesn’t quite land the catchiness, “Still Rapping” flounders under hollow production from Steve Lean, and “Pussy Call” falls flat in its warped Auto-Tune. The project’s second half is littered with impressive renditions scored by Sky Rompiendo, Alizzz, and Lost Twin -- there’s an impressive EP buried in here -- but Avida Dollars’ opening gambit falls short of his tape's lofty ambitions.
It’s hard to fault C. Tangana for continuing to move with the times -- what is a mixtape for if not for testing new ideas? -- but Avida Dollars struggles to put Alfaro’s own stamp on this particular strain of trap. While tracks like “Huele a Nuevo” and “Llorando en la Limo” offer a template for future success, the unsteady imitations that surround them ensure Avida Dollars is a pick-and-choose affair.