Beyond the Surface: An Interview with Richie Arnedo

By 25 January, 2025

Embedded in the heart of Bogotá’s vibrant music scene, Richie Arnedo stands as a beacon of Colombian musical innovation. As the founder of La Makina del Karibe, Richie turned from aspiring pro baseball player in the fields of his native Turbaco, just a few minutes away from Cartagena, into a seasoned percussionist, dedicating decades to pioneering a distinctive fusion of Afro-Colombian rhythms, champeta, and global sonic influences, crafting a sound that has resonated far beyond Colombia’s borders. From unforgettable performances at the legendary Roskilde Festival in Denmark to collaborations with icons like ChocQuibTown and La Negra Grande de Colombia, his journey is a demonstration of the transformative power of music. This conversation, hosted in the creative haven of La Colmena Records in Chapinero, reveals the artist’s past triumphs, current collaborations, and a sneak peek at what lies ahead for one of Colombia’s most dynamic performers.

Your journey as a musician has been highly succesful, with a few twists here and there. Let’s start from the beginning—how did you start your journey as an artist in Bogotá?

I basically came to Bogotá with a friend who was also a musician. We had the intention of starting a band. Back in Cartagena, we’d begun blending Colombian rhythms with rock and blues under the name Borrón y Canto Nuevo. Over there we didn’t really have many venues to play at. We performed every two weeks at the same spot, and it felt like we were stuck in a loop.

Eventually my friend Efraím Medina, the writer, encouraged me to explore Bogotá’s growing music scene. He was right—this city was a melting pot, and I met so many talented musicians. Some friends from Cartagena even followed. We improvised, pulled together some shows and started making noise, though the city’s cold weather scared off our drummer [laughs].

Right. That was around the time you performed with Leit Motiv at Rock al Parque, correct?

Yes. Our first big break was at Rock al Parque’s first editions. We played in ’94, ’95 and ’96.

And this was before the festival’s Simón Bolívar days. At the Media Torta, Olaya, etc.

Exactly. Actually at the Olaya was where I met Urián Sarmiento, who was telling me about creating a project that blended gaita music with jazz and that sort of thing. That’s where we started playing along people like Sebastián Monsalve, Jorge Sepúlveda and a vast group of local musicians. This went on for years until Curupira came about.

Amazing! Curupira is definitely a staple name when it comes to that boom that went on with modern Colombian music in the early 2000s

Right. At the start of that decade was when the project really gelled together, and we recorded 3 albums in a span of 3 years. Curupira’s debut record was Palante Patrá. Later on there was another couple of albums which were both done live. The first one was in a concert at Bogotá’s Centro Nacional de las Artes (currently known as the Centro Delia Zapata Olivella) and Audiovisión, respectively.

That’s impressive. So what happened after that?

Basically all of the guys involved starting doing their own thing. Monsalve got more involved in his jazz projects, Malpelo started singing with La 33, Urián played with Aterciopelados for a few years, and that’s when I decided to create La Makina del Caribe.

Nice. And this all connects to those showcases and international tours you managed to organize with La Makina by the end of the decade, right?

Yeah, that’s right. With La Makina the sound was more rooted in champeta, but infused with electronic elements. It was about honoring traditional music while pushing it forward. We had the chance of doing a showcase at BOmm around 2009 or ’10, and from there we got the opportunity of playing at massive events like Roskilde Festival in Denmark.

There was a key episode for the project’s history when we played at Bogotá’s El Anónimo in 2010. We were doing a gig along with Tumbacatre, and our former singer Malpelo couldn’t make it because he had another show that night, so I showed the tracks to Mónica of Tumbacatre real quick, and invited her to perform. Ultimately she ended up being the lead singer of the band, and also one of the first (if not the first) female champeta singers in Colombia. Nowadays you might find one or two singers like that in Cartagena, but back then it was pretty rare.

Great story. I understand after this the band achieved international recognition, especially in Europe. Where else did you manage to position the project internationally besides Roskilde?

Yes, the project was definitely very well received over there. We got open doors for several years at festivals in Germany and beyond. Europe was incredibly receptive to our music. The audiences connected with the Caribbean rhythms, and a few DJs such as Daniel Haaksman and SOS Moroka embraced our tracks for remixes.

I’ve heard Haaksman’s take on “Maki Man”. Amazing stuff!

It is. We also had a friend who documented our tours, which was great, but back then I wasn’t really focused on publicity or networking. For example at Roskilde, I realized we needed a manager when producers were approaching me directly. Still, even with those challenges, we built a loyal following. Venues like Couleur Café in Brussels became recurring stops for us.

After such a whirlwind of activity, what led to the pause in La Makina del Caribe?

Around 2017, the music scene here in Bogotá was more saturated and shifting. Gigs were harder to come by, and it became difficult to gather the band for rehearsals. One showcase was particularly disheartening—the musicians were late, and I felt like we weren’t meeting our potential. That was a sign for me to take a step back.

During that time, I explored electronic music, worked on smaller projects, and developed my DJ facet under the alias Kapitán Turbakistan. It was a way to stay creative while figuring out my next steps.

What’s the current status of La Makina? Any plans to revive it?

I’ve never stopped creating music for the project. I have a collection of compositions ready, but I’m thinking about approaching things differently. It’s no longer about forming a big band for covers or showcases. Instead, I’m collaborating with smaller groups and recording new material here at La Colmena. This spot is where the honey of tropical futurism is being refined.

Speaking of La Colmena, can you tell us more about it?

La Colmena is more than just a studio—it’s a community hub for musicians and creators. It’s where I’ve been working on Tumbacatre’s new album and contributing with fellow artists like Dragao and his band Papaya Republik. The energy here is special. It feels like the right place to shape the next chapter of my music.

Absolutely, it does seem like a pretty talented crew is shaping up at this spot. You also mentioned Tumbacatre. How’s that project coming along?

Tumbacatre is a bit more sporadic these days, but we’ve been working on the third album. It’s a large ensemble with 15 musicians, so coordinating everything takes time. We’ve recorded one track so far, and I’m producing the rest with Mateo Molano. We play when opportunities arise, and there’s always something brewing.

Nice. Last but not least, tell us a bit about your work as Kapitán Turbakistan. How did DJing come into your life?

During the pandemic, I moved with my family to a rural area near La Calera. I spent over two years there, building a home studio and exploring new sounds. When I returned to Bogotá, DJing felt like a natural extension of my musical journey. My sets are eclectic—I focus on soukous, Congolese rumba, Caribbean grooves, and even some of my own electronic tracks. It’s a way to keep experimenting and connecting with audiences.

Any upcoming events or releases we should look out for?

There’s always something on the horizon! On February 1, I’ll be spinning at Ritmo Moderno, and playing alongside a fresh supergroup of talented friends called Divino Colapso.

Well good luck with that gig and we’ll definitely be there to support it!

Thanks!


As we look forward to Richie’s upcoming projects, including the anticipated performances of Divino Colapso, we invite you to experience the vibrant pulse of his work firsthand. Join us on February 1 at Ritmo Moderno for a night of unforgettable music. Click here for more info on the event.

Last but not least, very special thanks to Daniel Restrepo of La Colmena Records for providing the inspiring space where this interview took place, and for nurturing the creative spirit of Bogotá’s music scene.


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