Fight the urge to judge this band by their name; Liquid Cheese does not sound like "liquid cheese." There is no oozing squishiness when they're on stage. They are solid, precise, energizing and satisfying (if "liquid cheese" could be described as satisfying, then there may be a correlation, after all). They really should make it more apparent why they chose their band name--for now I'll write it off as some insanely funny inside joke and be content that they, at least, understand. In the same way that a hybrid of Spanish and English dialect has become known as "Spanglish," Southwestern bands enamored by ska music have added their homegrown flavors and spices to come up with a subgenre of ska called, well ... there's no name for it yet. But bands like El Paso's Liquid Cheese, the members of which likely grew up surrounded by a fair amount of Spanish and Mexican music, are fusing the music born in Jamaica in the early '60s with their traditions and arriving at something that is easily danceable, full of energy and highly entertaining. At the same time, it pays homage to their roots. Each incarnation of ska music, referred to as "waves," is characterized by a drastic change in sound, tempo or style. Could this as yet unnamed fusion of Tejano, norteño, ska, rock and punk be a new paradigm? Liquid Cheese's recent release, titled "Tres Equis," is a mere six songs long. But in that span, the group covers a great deal of ground. From uptempo blasts of straight-forward ska to rich, brassy improvisations that hint at mariachi music to fervent tribal percussion, Liquid Cheese creates incessantly driving ska rhythms. Formed in 1996, the group consists of seven members including Roy Morales (guitar), John-Michael Vasquez (saxophone), Jesse Sullivan (bass), Shawn Hunton (guitar), Sam Sullivan (trumpet), Danny Sullivan (drums), Doug Neal (percussion). Its definitive sound is the culmination of a decade of work and a handful of recordings, as well as more than 1,000 performances, some to crowds of over 10,000.