Top Latin rockers are happy together

The name of the new Aterciopelados album will probably be lost on non-Spanish speakers. "Oye" can mean "listen" or "hey," but in this case, it's almost an interjection. As in, "Hey! What's going on here?"

"Oye" comes after a five-year recording hiatus for the Colombian rock duo of Andrea Echeverri and Héctor Buitrago. In 2002, Echeverri had her first child, daughter Milagros, and in 2005, Echeverri released her self-titled solo debut centered on themes of love -- romantic and maternal. Buitrago followed suit the next year with "Conéctor," a rhythmically diverse album of experimental electronica.

The separation seemed to grow wider. When Echeverri played a local show at the Middle East Downstairs in 2004, it wasn't billed as an Aterciopelados gig, but there was Buitrago keeping quiet in the shadows, playing guitar and singing back-up vocals for her. (The band returns to the area on Wednesday for a show at Plaza Garibaldi in Revere.)

It made fans nervous. After more than 15 years together, where was one of Latin rock's biggest and most pioneering acts headed?

"We took a break for vital reasons," Echeverri says in Spanish from Bogota, where she and Buitrago both live. "When you have a baby, you want to talk about that, to express that. In my case, the music I wanted and needed to make back then was very feminine, and it just made sense for me to do my own thing. Then Héctor made his solo album to balance things out."

After a while, though, Echeverri and Buitrago (who aren't romantically involved) looked at each other and said, "Oye, when are we going to make another album together?"

Here's where the fans sigh in relief.

Aterciopelados, which roughly translates to "the Velvety Ones," is an unusual phenomenon in Latin rock: a commercially and critically viable band that's never compromised its own cosmic vision of what music should do. It's the kind of group whose music gets played at college basement parties in Mexico City ("Bolero Falaz" and "Florecita Rockera" are mid-'90s Latin rock anthems) while amassing acclaim far beyond its South American roots, including Latin Grammy nominations and glowing praise from the US music press.

Aterciopelados' discography is a field trip through modern rock en español's evolution. From its testy punk-rock beginnings in the early '90s, through its lounge-electronica phase, to its most adventurous album yet, Aterciopelados has been all about detours. "Oye" casts a wide net that includes electronica, native Latin rhythms such as cumbia, and Indian mysticism on songs such as "Fan #1" and "Majestad." Echeverri revels in the shifts in her music.

"For starters, it's because of our like of different music," she says. "Our percussionist lived in India, and he plays tabla. Those sounds on the album aren't necessarily from the Orient, but rather from the earth. They give the album a shamanic vibe."

Echeverri and Buitrago have their roles -- she sings lead vocals and plays the acoustic guitar; he's usually on electric and the electronics -- but they share the songwriting duties. Their styles are distinct yet nearly impossible to unravel.

"We're such a team that people often mistake who wrote which songs," she says. "A lot of people think I'm the folklorist and Héctor is the modern one, but that's not always the case."

Even more vast than its fan base is Aterciopelados' sonic palate. From the start, Echeverri and Buitrago have melded all of their disparate influences into their signature sound of pan-world music. For every electric guitar, there's an Andean flute to counter it. You don't get a straight salsa tune from Aterciopelados; you get "El Estuche," a mash-up of salsa, hip-hop, tango, and jazz, with social commentary lurking in the chorus: "Mira la esencia/ No las apariencias" (Look at the essence/ Not at appearances). "Complemento," the opening tracking on "Oye," melds gurgling lounge electronica with a trilling electric guitar solo.

More than most of its contemporaries, except perhaps Mexico's Café Tacuba, Aterciopelados has been a leading proponent of music as a tool for change. The melodies are so upbeat that you sometimes don't even realize there are advocacy and protest at play.

On "Caribe Atómico," over a swirl of seasick synthesizers, Echeverri rails on the dangers of environmental pollution. "Don't bathe yourself in its waters/ The Caribbean has suspicious foams," she warns. "Don Dinero," a new anti-consumerism song, is a would-be lullaby that essentially says whatever ails you, you can buy a cure for it. Echeverri's longstanding feminist bent is stronger than ever, too, with just a simple question posed on "Oye Mujer": "Are you a human being/ Or the erotic fantasy of some guy?"

It's that commitment to questioning societal mores that partly impressed Tomás Cookman, president and founder of Cookman International. He says Aterciopelados inspired him to start his own independent label, Nacional Records, and Aterciopelados was his first signing.

"One of the keys is Andrea's lyrical honesty and also the fact that they come up with memorable melodies and musical moods," Cookman says. "Top that with a very strong live show and the ability to deeply tour the US, and it has enabled them to reach beyond the casual Latin alt-music fan."

That Aterciopelados is signed to an indie label in the United States would seem to speak volumes about the state of the Latin rock industry.

"Hey, Paul McCartney is going to release his next album through Starbucks's indie label. The business of music is changing and evolving," Cookman says. "Specific to the Latin market, there really never were too many indie options in the past. It is hard to think that only the major labels can be everything for everyone."

The indie status also belies Aterciopelados' huge draw in this country.

"We sell more records in the United States than anywhere else," Echeverri says. "We tour there as much as we can, mostly cities with a large Latino population, but we'll play anywhere they'll have us."

James Reed can be reached at jreed@globe.com.