Spring break has given tequila a bad name. Often thought of as mere panty peeler, 100-percent artisan blue agave is actually a savory spirit. House music suffers from similar issues. There's the salt-streaked discharge of unadulterated Chicago and New York house an unctuous, on-the-rocks experience. Then there's the syrupy tequila sunrise of the often more aperitif West Coast deep house. And Miguel Migs is that easy sipper, more for general consumption than connoisseurs. The 13 sun-dappled, jazz-flecked tracks on Migs' sophomore full-length aren't pounding bug powder dust. This is organic disco-funk for strawberry cocaine and Prada accessories. Aided vocally by his muse, Lisa Shaw, as well as Tim Fuller, LT, Sadat X, Junior Reid, and more, Migs offers breezy, rounded cabana thumpers as silken as a fresh fruit purée-based margarita. Eventually the nuance homogenizes, but it'll getcha drunk. Tony Ware
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