Café Tacuba : Aragon; Fri 7

Mexican rock titans Café Tacuba have found considerable success in teasing pop conventions. The quartet has never been easily classifiable—taking cues from any number of genres, including punk and Latin folk—though its electric-guitar grooves and Spanish-language lyrics keep the group filed under the Rock en Español label. However, the results are far more straight-ahead than that of peers like Manu Chao.

The long-standing outfit sorts through an array of styles, corrupting convention to suit its purposes as defined by the zigzagging on its 1994 breakthrough, Re. Its approach is unusually modest: In nearly 20 years as a band, it’s released only six studio LPs. Yet each release is an ambitious affair, such as the 1999 Grammy-winning double-album Revés/Yo Soy and 2003’s impressive Cuatro Caminos, its most north-of-the-border effort.

Mainstream success lets the quirky ensemble stretch out, as on last year’s Sino. The band is as playful as ever on the epic disco-pop “Volver A Comenzar,” rock-samba of “El Outsider” and carefree shuffle of “Quiero Ver.” Frontman Rubén Isaac Albarrán Ortega’s frequent name changes (he’s credited under a different alias on each album) almost draw attention away from his shrill, overdriven voice. Yet Caminos’ excessive wordplay is pushed even further.

Café Tacuba demonstrates that it’s easy to genre-hop but far more difficult to do so tastefully. But these guys have been at it long enough to know when a creative leap becomes a risk, and they’re careful to keep their anthemic hooks palatable.