One part War, two parts Santana, and a dash of Motown, immersed in a rich Puerto Rican stock, Los Nombres were the undisputed kings of Northern Ohio's Rust Belt barrios. Following successive explosions of brown-eyed and Latin soul in Los Angeles and New York during the mid and late '60s, Lorain's Boricua underdogs went on a trial-by-fire recording tear in nearby Cleveland, going all-in on a series of no-budget recordings at Way Out and with Lou Ragland at Boddie Recording Company. Boasting a voice that rivaled any on the Fania roster, Willie Marquez led the rotating cast of Latino teens through numerous underfunded recording sessions for the Day-Wood, Beth, and Lorain Sounds imprints, the lo-fi fruits of which are compiled here. Reaching back to Los Nombres' most glorious and fearless era, these moments of off-the-cuff clarity feature an uncompromising assemblage of searing brass, molten organ, and crystalline nuggets of chili-powdered songwriting that could only have come from Ohio's "International City."