FYI - There is something called Guarachero Tribal music and it's:
It's like when you first see salt on chocolate and you're all "whaaat" and then you taste it and you're like "awwww yeaaaah." Then some jokey entrepreneur takes it too far and dips a pickle or a cricket or some other nonsense in chocolate and every cell in your body throws up the word "no."
And that's what will happen when you see the freaky accoutrement to the la musica tribal. May I present to you in all their effed up glory, los botas picudas:
Think back to your own splendid style of, say, your junior year in high school. Perhaps you had a big Afro or dreads or a mohawk. Maybe you thought you were the missing cast member of The Matrix and you dramatically swept around the quad in your long, leather duster. Did you and all your friends rock the same brand of sneakers, jeans, or shorts? Did you carry a Guatemalan purse? I did. And I was damn proud of that multicolored, handwoven blob because it fit a whole six pack of beer inside! Here's a good one: when I first moved to New York, all the kids rolled up one pant leg. ONE PANT LEG.
But I have to say, the only thing worse than looking at a 10 year old picture and cringing at your outfit is looking at a 10 year old picture and you're wearing more or less the same outfit. Think about it.
Have a tribal weekend!