New Year's Resolutions and the Mambo

Add caption

Popular culture would have us believe that on January 1, 1950, everyone in America under 30 awakened to discover rocket-inspired tailfins having sprouted on their cars, sheath dresses in their closets, and ‘rock and roll’ records on every turntable.  Well, um… No.  Remember, both the “Jets” and the “Sharks” were equally adept at dancing Mambo, the weapon of choice for their teen dance floor duel in the Broadway musical “West Side Story,” set in mid-1950’s New York City (watch it at the end of this article).  This vision of the 1950’s is every bit as valid as the one portrayed in the Milwaukee of “Happy Days” - and musica Latina was fully part of the scene.

Today’s listeners often mis-categorize Mambo, Cha Cha Cha, Pachanga and other Latin music genres as having been music for ‘older folks’, merely because they were ‘vintage’ by the time we came along.  But while they did have a cross-generational appeal, when they were new there was nothing more modern or hip.  Even looking at the old record covers is deceiving.  We now perceive the models in evening gowns and elaborate make-up as being 'older', forgetting that the style of the day was for women to look purposely mature and sophisticated (not the natural, perpetual-waif look prized today).  The 18 year old WWII Army sergeant of 1945 was a still ‘young’ 27 year old in 1954 - the year of the Mambo’s maximum impact on U.S. popular culture.  That individual, weaned on Swing, was far more likely to be inclined towards the sound of jazz-inflected, big band Mambo than rock and roll.  My father, a ‘Class of 1948’ Bebopper, played saxophone throughout northern New Jersey in the first band of Charlie Persip (later Dizzy Gillespie’s drummer).  For a young, urban man of the late-1940’s, R&B and rock & roll were alright - for children and ‘hicks’(!)  “Cool” was all about ‘Bird’, ‘Diz’ and “The Divine One,” Sarah Vaughn…, AND Tito Puente, Machito and Graciela! 

This New Year’s Eve, I wouldn’t imagine that many of you will throw away your iPhone or X-Box because “it’s so 2011.”  Life and culture aren’t that ‘cut and dry.’  Time tends to create exaggerated line of demarcation between decades that, then as now, flowed seamlessly from one to another with change coming incrementally.  The mass-market “American Graffiti” and “Grease” vision of the 1950’s shows the decade from only one point of view, with the cultural touchstones of an entire decade tied into a single, convenient bow of nostalgia.  But untie that bow, and that same ribbon – stretched full and straight - allows us to see the continuity between tradition and the future.  That’s real cause for celebration!

Happy Holidays and a Bountiful New Year from Mambo-phoniC!

Embracing Your Inner Boogaloo

40 years after its heyday, the boogaloo era remains one of the more controversial pieces of the popular Latin dance music puzzle.  Derided by purists, yet beloved by legions of  aficionados, the genre’s blend of Afro-Cuban rhythmic propulsion and funky R&B horn riffs were not only a bridge between the eras of Mambo and Salsa, but were also, for millions of non-Latinos, an initial portal into the wide world of Latin music.  Upon reflection, most every advance in popular 20^th Century Latin dance music was initially labeled the ‘death of the genre’ as it was then known. 

In the late 1930’s, Orestes and Israel ('Cachao') Lopez’ initial mambo innovations were considered near blasphemy against the hallowed Cuban 3-part structure.  Arsenio Rodriguez’ incorporation of the conga drum into popular Cuban music was to many a cultural revolution not unlike the Africanization of North American pop by r&b some 15 years later.  So controversial were Damaso Perez Prado’s jazz-infused arrangements for Cuba’s popular Orquesta Casino De La Playa that the pianist had to relocate to Mexico City.  There, with an audience more impressed by his swinging innovations rather than with dogged adherence to accepted Cuban musical structure, Prado became a superstar.  In segregated 1947 New York, the unprecedented interracial appeal of Afro-Cuban jazz pioneers such as Machito and his Afro-Cubans was such that riot police were sent to the barrier-breaking ‘Tico Tico’ dances at Manhattan Center, anticipating that the multi-racial crowd of 5,000 would certainly break into a riot (the only ‘riot’ was on the dance floor)!  Lo and behold, “La Musica” has survived all of these perceived ‘calamities’.

Occasionally, I'll hear my younger African-American brothers and sisters dismiss the venerable ‘standards’ mid 20^th Century American pop as “white music" (expressing a perception that such music has and/or had  little to do with them or their history).  But this view, skewed from our contemporary vantage point, is to totally discount the profound early influence of black music on U.S. pop culture.  After all, the ubiquitous Foxtrot was a staple of  black popular dance for a decade before the likes of ballroom dancers Vernon and Irene Castle made it ‘acceptable’ to the majority culture.  George Gershwin would be the first to admit that he borrowed liberally from the black vernacular to create his finest and most respected works.  Indeed, the foundation of U.S. popular music from the Roaring 20's through the Swing era was fueled and informed by African-American gospel, ragtime, jazz and blues.

Similarly, largely through the broad impact of boogaloo, Latin percussion became firmly a part of the American popular music landscape to such an extent that today, one is hard-pressed to find a rhythm section for any popular style – from rock and roll to country and western – that doesn’t incorporate congas, and/or shekere, and/or a cowbell.  To ‘reject’ mass popular off-shoots out-of-hand, is also to squander the Latino community’s claim to the sweeping impact of the genre on wider popular culture.  Given to the world willingly, it is nonetheless a gift that we should acknowledge giving.  Here's the legendary JOE CUBA SEXTET featuring Cheo Feliciano performing the 1965 classic, "Bang Bang"!

Mambo & The Civil War: Reenacting History

When my new work colleague, Stacey, told me that among the guests at her Halloween party would be her father-in-law - an avid Civil War reenactor dressed in full Confederate soldier garb - your resident mambo-phile admittedly felt a momentary pang.  Would this turn into a torturous evening of biting my tongue as my new friend and associate's beloved relative proceeded to explain to "po' lil' misinformed African-American me" that slavery really wasn't all that bad...?    "I'd have worn Blue if the party were above the Mason-Dixon," Michael Schwartz joked as I sat down, "but since my kids live in Virginia I figured I'd wear Gray!"  Laws-a-Mercy....  "Trick-or-Treat," indeed! 

Happily, what ensued was a positively delightful conversation about music, art and culture that struck me so deeply as to be the topic for my 're-launch' of the Mamb-O-phoniC blog. 

Like myself, Schwartz, who regularly makes presentations in-character for the Smithsonian Institution, is energized by helping people move beyond the limitations of past technologies, connecting them to the history as a living, breathing organism.  Making history relevant is no small feat in today's technologically-advanced world, where we expect everything to be instantaneous and in 'HD'.  Many of today's economy cars not only handle as well as sports cars of the 1970's and '80's, but they come equipped with an arsenal of power accessories that only 20 years ago were reserved for premium luxury automobiles. 

As the Civil War occurred well before the age of motion pictures or television, the massive costumed displays staged by Michael and his reenactor friends allow individuals to physically 'see' how people fought and struggled over one of the most divisive issues in our Nation's history.  As a broadcaster and lecturer focused on vintage Latin-jazz and mambo, my challenge is in helping people look past vintage fashions, frames-of-reference and recording technologies in order to connect with the importance of the history and the 'soul' encased within.

Just a few weeks ago a listener called me during my radio program after hearing Tito Puente's "Mambo Diablo."  Puente recorded this eternal swinger several times through the decades, but I played the original 1954 recording on the Tico label.  "Man, that was cool," said the caller!  "I love that tune, but I didn't recognize it being played so slowly."  ...Huh?

The comment haunted me and later in the week, I played the original Tico label recording back-to-back with the 1980's Concord Picante version, and they're roughly the same tempo.  In fact, many vintage mambo recordings are decidedly faster in tempo than contemporary Salsa versions.  I've regularly heard Salsa exhibition dancers indicate that one of the deterrents to choreographing to older recordings is that they're often too fast for the modern dancer's inclination towards complex spins and turns (versus the more footwork-grounded styling of yesteryear).  How could anyone perceive that tune as being 'slow'?

This actually supports a long-time observation of mine that it is the recording technology (or, lack thereof) which so drastically colors the modern listener's perception of vintage music (and their resistance to it).  To the contemporary listener if something sounds 'old', then it must somehow equal 'mellow' and, therefore, 'slow' - even if the metronome proves otherwise.  The 'flatter', less dimensional sound of monaural recordings demands that the contemporary listener partially 'imagine' the greater depth of sound they accustomed to.  Absent the clear separation between the various instruments, the listener must partially 'perceive' different instruments and sounds.  One doesn't so much 'hear' the tone of Candido's masterful palm striking the sheepskin on his ABC Paramount recording of "Mambo Inn", as one 'senses it'.  It's not a difficult skill, but it is an acquired one that - with so little vintage music being played on the radio or online anymore - where is one to practice?

Now 44, I was at the tail-end of an era when one's first 'entertainment center' may well have been an inexpensive hi-fi record player inherited from the folks.  So my ear will 'accept' hearing both monaural and stereo.  But for a child of the "CD age" - with stereophonic recording a universal given - listening to a vintage recording must sound like listening to music through tin cans and a fabric string.

It's not dissimilar to the generational divide among film buffs with regard to black and white versus color.  To a younger generation where color is the expectation, black and white imagery appears impenetrably 'old-timey' and unreal.  To the connoisseur, however, there's nothing more dramatic and 'pure' than watching the meticulously-crafted interplay of light and shadow upon the faces of Garbo, Garfield or Gardner (Greta, John or Ava, respectively).  Just as this attitude leads all too many younger film viewers miss out on the joys of cinema classics, with each passing year, more and more Latin music fans are developing with out a connection to the importance of the Joe Cuba Sextet, Jose Curbelo and Machito - let alone Aresnio Rodriguez and Orquesta Aragon. 
This is one reason why I reject the contemporary broadcast philosophy of only playing CD's or the most 'pristine' of stereo vinyl LP's on-air.  The pops and ticks aren't the music: just the technology.  Not unlike sitting down for a conversation with a Confederate soldier, the groove is still there to enjoy if you commit to listening deeply, and with sincerity.

Salsa Hues: Any Color, …as long as it’s Red (Hot)!

On their first North American tour in a decade, Sierra Maestra, the masters of contemporary Cuban Son, positively dazzled me during their July 19^th appearance at Artisphere in Arlington, Virginia.  It wasn’t so much for the virtuosity of their playing, apparent though it was.   Rather, it was the stunning array of musical ‘color’ and hue encompassed in their performance, and the way in which it inspired the dancers to truly let-loose.  It highlighted for me how ‘monochromatic’ mainstream contemporary Latin music has become.

Not unlike Henry Ford’s famous joke about the Model T Ford, the first mass-produced automobile, it seems that today, you can get Salsa in any ‘color’ – as long as it’s “Red”.  Hot.  Scorching.  Break-neck fast red.

Amy Winehouse and the Mambo.

The recent death of pop singer Amy Winehouse, allegedly from her well-documented struggle with substance abuse, was yet another demonstration of popular culture’s fascination with the tragic deaths of young stars.  Although there are examples of misfortune in every musical genre - including Latin jazz and salsa - rock and roll in particular appears almost to revel in an Artists’s complete and flaming self-destruction.  Immediately, the media pointed out that Winehouse had joined Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison, Brian Jones, Jimi Hendrix, Kurt Cobain and many others in the “27 Club” – a litany of rock stars who died at the ripe old age of twenty-seven.

Already, the Winehouse legend is being re-written: today the story is the tragic death of a tormented artist at the peak of her powers.  But just weeks ago, we observed a stumbling, wacked-out, and marginalized Winehouse being booed off of the stage in Serbia, at the start of her quickly-cancelled ‘comeback tour’.  In truth, although bursting with a natural talent, her career was decidedly in decline.  Had Winehouse not died tragically, had she merely limped along for another year or two of