The Spam Allstars get around. The group fearlessly melds Latin, dub, hip-hop and electronic elements into an eclectic and distinctly South Floridian sound. Try to name a bar, club or festival the Spam Allstars haven’t played at and it’s an exercise in futility. The Allstars have regular gigs at City Limits, Tobacco Road, Jazid and Purdy Lounge and all points in between. They typically perform over 200 shows a year and their long-standing Thursday night residency at Hoy Como Ayer is in its sixth year. They’ve performed at massive festivals like Langerado, Wakarusa, Montreal Jazz Fest and collaborated with Daddy Yankee, Page McConnell, the Miami Heat and countless others. It’s obvious, the Allstars have built up a name for themselves the old-fashioned way: hard work and determination.

DJ Le Spam (Andrew Yeomanson) formed the Spam Allstars in 1993, but because he toured as a guitarist for Nil Lara from ’95-’98, the catalyst for their first album came in 1998 when Yeomanson broadcasted improvised jam sessions on pirate radio stations over Miami Beach. The sessions blended samples with live instrumentation, which provided the backbone for “Pork Scratchings,” their first album. With Yeomanson innovatively marrying electronic and Afro-Cuban influences with a blue-collar, DIY work ethic, the Allstars have steadily—and smartly—built up a reputation as South Florida’s premier live act. Their concerts are notoriously high-energy and the crowds reflect their culturally-rich music.

In 2003 the Allstars live album, “Fuacata Live,” was nominated for a Latin Grammy. Their fifth album, “electrodomesticos,” released this year, reinforces the band’s masterful synthesis of traditional and cutting edge sounds. Guest appearances include Page McConnell, Pee Wee Ellis, Jim Payne and a host of other talented musicians.

The Allstars have played at City Limits—Delray Beach’s plush concert club—twice already, but that never stops them from getting excited over a gig. And on his rare day off, Metromix managed to squeeze in a quick chat with DJ Le Spam.

Your bio says The Spam Allstars were formed in 1993, but your first album, Pork Scratchings, wasn’t released until 1999. Why was there so much lag time between inception and the release?
The first real shows were in 1995. Then I got a gig playing guitar with Nil Lara from ’95 to ’98, so the Allstars went on the backburner. When I got off the road I discovered recording software and that was like the world opening up. The first album was basically me learning how to use a multiple track recorder, plus I started bringing a CD burner to gigs, would edit performances from gigs, and then cobble live albums together.

Did you DJ before you discovered digital recording or was that part of this digital epiphany?
I collected records my whole life, but I was mostly focused on being a guitar player. I got back into record collecting while on the road (with Nil Lara), checking out local record shops in the towns we played at, and when I got back to Miami after the Nil Lara gigs dried up I thought I’d like to get DJ gigs and gigs playing guitar. When the Allstars started consistently playing in ’98 we started as a traditional band, with me playing guitar. Later, I started bringing samplers, and in 2000 I went to Williamsburg in New York and performed solo; I would also use local New York musicians—at least as many as the budget allowed.

How did you the Hoy Como Ayer residency develop?
In 2001, a couple of friends had this idea to use us as the centerpiece for a night there, partly because they knew I had a ton of Latin records. What’s great about the residency is it clicked right away. After three or four months, with the weight of the shows, we were able to move to S.O.B.’s in New York and establish ourselves there, gaining some ground wherever we could. You got to go where there’s some kind of something. Sometimes it works right away and others never click.

How much longer do you intend to continue your residency at Hoy Como Ayer?
With Hoy Como Ayer it’s surprising to me at this point: from a word-of-mouth thing to a lot of hype back to word-of-mouth. Some of the people who used to go five years ago are now married and don’t go out, but there’s a new crop of people at the show. It still has legs and as long as it feels right; it doesn’t feel like you’re going through the motions. It’s real gratifying to me because I make sure to take the records I have in my record case from the previous week and never re-use them the following week—I keep cycling through new music every week. It’s the only place I can consistently DJ given the fact the band is my top priority right now, not my solo DJ-ing. I typically play for 30 minutes before the band goes on and during set-break. That’s what I plan on doing at City Limits; I’ll probably spin a bunch of rare funk records.

Speaking of City Limits, what do you think of their setup?
It’s great. It’s always nice to have a place with a proper stage and sound-system. Hopefully someone in Dade County will build a place like City Limits.

Lots of critics cite you guys as being a musical embodiment of Miami. Did you ever consciously attempt to capture Miami’s vibe musically by combining all these musical styles?
Everything was a natural process. I never said “I want to fuse this with this.” You learn from your crowd. A lot of our sound has been a happy accident. I started mixing Latin because that’s what I was listening to, but it was never forced. When you’re onstage you see what works and what doesn’t.

So the audience dictated the final product?
It’s been a natural evolution; the group has a lot to do with that also. Everybody brings a different fabric.

Your CDs and vinyl are released on Spamusica, your very own label. How do you distribute your product? 
I haven’t signed with a label because I don’t want to chase my money. I’d rather sell a bit here and there. Maybe I’m over-cautious or cynical, but I’ve always had the mind-set that I want my albums sold at mom-and-pop record shops. As much as we gig, we sell the majority of our music on the road. One day I’d like to have wider distribution, but when you pour your heart and soul into a project it’s scary to hand it off to someone who may not share your vision.

The band has carved out a niche without any tour support, advertising or other forms of record-label juice. Everything you’re attained has come from a DIY punk rock ethos. Do you ever feel like a punk rocker?
Ideally, I would really like to build up from what we’re done so far—just trying to keep rolling along. This is the world that makes the most sense and I don’t think we’re easily marketable. As long as we’ve got word of mouth we’re fine. The strongest thing is when you have people sharing this music with their friends and talking about the band with people. These things go farthest.

Jeremiah Tash is a freelance writer based in Miami.