JAQO
September 2002

Combing the Catalog
Archive <& /articles/colu_archive.tmp &>

By Javier Antonio Quiñones Ortiz

Columbia/Legacy is resurrecting more than half a century of North American musical evolution --distinctively tinged by Hispanics. Even so, all resurrections are myths and many surround these productions. Without myths --musical or otherwise-- it is difficult to be. Hence the need for their recurring rebirth even if through compilations of previously released materials.

The mythical characters in question appear in Xavier Cugat-The Original Latin Dance King, Machito & His Afro-Cuban Orchestra: The Complete Columbia Masters, ¿Qué Pasa? The Best of Fania All-Stars, and Ritmo de la noche/Rhythm of the Night-The Very Best of Latin Jazz. Much living is packed in these four recordings. Most of the content, however, is variously significant and the presentations deal adequately with the subjects at hand. Although multiple sourced compilations can have varying degrees of sound quality, these records' clear sound and reproduction, without meddling with the original mixes, will not disappoint any sound system. Photos and pertinent liner notes tell their tales rather well. The music in these recordings --date of origin or living status of the performers notwithstanding-- remains active in the market with scant sales, modest radio airplay and ongoing documentation. Lay interested parties, however, do almost all such commentary and research. Any news about most of the figures in these recordings, however, and we can't help but to pay attention because so much that matters is entwined with the musical divinities involved. Not even a musicological version of Teilhard de Chardin could figure out the Omega Point of all phenomena surrounding this music. The point, however, is not just figuring out its whence and thence but to let its saga get a hold of thee.

From the outset, even today, most of the followers of the Fania All Stars --including critics and the musicians from the sessions-- considered the recordings featured in the compilation ¿Qué Pasa?: The Best of Fania All Stars as "Tales From the Dark Side." Although there are some tunes in those recordings that met with critical and popular approval, they remain an exception within the markets for this strain of North American music. Most of those exceptions, which are not necessarily exceptional, are included in this recording. Even a cursory search of the web will confirm the overwhelming negative appraisal these recordings received. Off-putting evaluations notwithstanding, the story doesn't --and shouldn't-- end there. Perhaps two blasts, leaving past and present reviews aside, could further matters along.

The first comes from Venezuelan author César Miguel Rondón. Shortly after the original albums were issued, in his influential work Salsa: crónica de la música del Caribe urbano (Salsa: Chronicle of the Music from the Urban Caribbean), he uttered words to the effect that these recordings were leading stylistic explorations that were a portentous deathblow for the ensemble and the careers of its members. Furthermore, the book perceives these recordings as a big break deal created by mere business interests whereby the North Americanization of the music, and the image of the group, would utter a ready made product for massive Euro-American consumption. The results of the plan and the strategies were seen as a culturally challenged and a "values losing" proposition according to his analysis of the economic, musical, and cultural disappointment these recordings represented at the time. He even includes supporting negative comments from one of the musicians that participated in said sessions. Since Rondón's book has never been updated, one could only guess what revisions he would make today given the actual turn of events of the Fania All Stars phenomena in particular, and Hispanic music in general. Many, perhaps most, still consider his book to be "The Bible of Salsa" and read it accordingly, as well as literally. A few of us approach it as Julius Wellhausen approached the actual biblical documents, i.e., with a critical eye towards the sources and their interpretations. Leaving aside a sorely needed critical evaluation of Rondón's book à la Wellhausen, there is little doubt that this --most canonical voice in Salsa scholarly circles-- conveys the popular sentiment --then and now-- towards those recordings.

The second illustrative blast blows over from personal experience. As most at the time, I was dissatisfied with the material upon its original issuance. The Fania All Stars established themselves as a hardcore New York dancing band that featured many of the leading Salsa figures of the time. Their early music was decidedly urban, drug induced, testicular, young, rough, brassy, loudmouthed, exciting, sensual, tight, festive, and good humored. A dirty sound characterizes their best work, as the recordings that truly launched the Fania All Stars international phenomenon were a highly reduced and edited version of a dance gig. One of the tunes in the famed presentation at the Cheetah Club is said to have lasted 45 minutes during the performance of which hardly a third made it into the recording. Even so, they managed to immediately etch themselves into an international audience becoming an ongoing bonafide transgenerational product.

Encountering an obviously domesticated version of the group, with its squeaky clean metallic mix, was befuddling nonetheless. These streetwise musicians --today some are ex-cons-- swung with little or no rehearsal, and did not particularly care for sectional recording sessions --as all were professionally raised in live in-studio recording dates. The Fania All Stars did better when left in their natural savage state as they felt caged in these recordings. I remember telling myself that I didn't care for a jazzy, rockish, folksy, bluesy or instrumental denuded rhythmic feel in the music "'cause what I wanted was more and better mazacote (word indicating nasty-deep-blacker 'n' thicker-than molasses swingingness)." Even then I questioned why would anyone think that a formula heavy on foreign elements such as funk, rock, syrupy English lyrics and non-percussive mixes would attract my attention when I was a salsero and did not care much for those we derisively called rockeros.

During that period, the borderlines between those who liked Salsa and those who followed English-speaking Rock --with most North American music conveniently dumped into that category-- were clear for all to see. Although many claim that the assorted antagonisms between these groups of fans are outdated, or an exaggerated perception, it is rather easy to point out factual examples to the contrary. Just a few years back, Rubén Blades --one of the main characters in the Salsa saga-- demanded that a Panamanian Rock group, in which he had a stake, be included in a presentation of his in Puerto Rico. When the Rock group opened the activity, they were received with impatience, wonderment and obvious acts of displeasure. In other words, the audience was pissed! With hardly any exception at all, the paying patrons did not intend to attend a hybrid concert with gringo music in Spanish plus Blades. He latter issued some comments about the public's negative reaction to that Rock group stating that Panamanian radio airwaves --and musical tastes-- were more inclusive than Puerto Rican ones --with the implication that the latter were a lesser open and mature audience than the former. It takes cojones to belie political interventionism in your work while practicing cultural ones as Blades does, but such matters aside, the episode shows how alive the not-so-rare-and-expected division of taste in music operates among and around Salsa followers.

Still, that was then and this is now. If I had been at said Blades' concert, I would've been very interested in the roundly rejected Rock group, as I am in the music of ¿Qué Pasa? The Best of Fania All-Stars. If the years go by without refining one's perceptions and experiences, in that lies much waste. A fresh listening of this material is warranted. So is a new rapprochement to many of its core causalities.

Extolling the inviolability of questionable cultural tenets, while expecting --even demanding-- commercial success, is one of many schizoid parameters of understanding among those unwilling to sink deeper into this period of the Fania All Stars. To paraphrase H.G. Wells: Cultural indignation is jealousy with a halo. Under the economic freedom we enjoy in the U.S., anyone has the perfect right to use any resources at hand --musical, cultural or otherwise-- to develop their artistic take for any conceivable market and do whatever it takes to be successful at it. There wasn't --and isn't-- absolutely anything wrong with that. It would be utterly victimary to argue that these albums were a cultural slight in any sense. If anything, it lengthened the reach of the musical trends among the Fania All Stars. It would be outright dishonest to claim that these endeavors hurt the group or the careers of its members. If anything, it helped by burrowing them into other industry lairs, by furthering their understanding of the business, by presenting new opportunities for further musical collaborations, by creating new industry connections, and even now, by quite a decent digital preservation of their craft. The Fania All Stars, as most of the surviving members, remain active --belying several retirements of the group. Furthermore, those Fania All Stars recordings have a larger frame of reference than the ones in which the dialogue about them is commonly bereft.

How about the music itself? Once the ideological victimization tales dissipate, the view looks better, although Ansel Adams wouldn't necessarily photograph it. "Ella fue (She Was the One)" is an easy-going-Chá-like catchy riff-of-a-tune with urban islander laidbackness. Only a partying crowd can measure this one. Try it in your next gathering and let me know how it goes. "Coro Miyare" is a jamming composition that incorporates a trumpet solo from a Pablo Casals trained musician, with Afro-Cuban tinged percussion and vocals in the intro and coda, into yet another updating of the guaguancó in Salsa. Surely, you must understand that much more is driven home here as Roberto Rohena also brandishes his brand of bongo playing while his relative Aníbal Vázquez is acknowledged in the lyrics. Credit is due to the inclusion of a portion of a composition tipping the hat to a master dancer who recently passed away to everyone's chagrin in Salsa circles. At the time, Tito Puente's "Picadillo" allowed pianist Papo Lucca to shine under another light other than the Sonora Ponceña's. The overall aural experience has a metallic quality to it, including Steve Winwood's pertinent solo, albeit tempered by an opportune trombone contribution, all with flavor of its own. Once again, dancers should be judge and jury of this one. Rubén Blades and his companions did quite a number with "Juan Pachanga." Its status and quality as a Salsa cut of international import can only be questioned by someone as handicapped in these matters as Guillermo Cabrera Infante is. Some of his groundless and anthropologically infantile assertions on Salsa appear in the liner notes to Paquito D'Rivera Presents 40 Years of Cuban Jam Session. Therein he becomes a literary "sniper's dream" by setting his challenged views for failure publicly stating: "Name a single salsa single that you remember and this CD is yours for free. Your answer will be for the record." Well, Señor Infante, here is one answer: Let's begin with "Juan Pachanga" and work our way through myriad others, as the list is quite long. Someone tell him, even though cancer is now afflicting him, he owes me for that D'Rivera CD he emasculated with his ethno-ideological remarks sans musicological sophistication. "Donde" is one of several Eric Gale and Johnny Pacheco collaborations whose production compositional values in these projects appear to most as one-dimensional. Even so, at times, multidimensional music is uncalled for. Why not simply groove on Gale? The funkiliciousness of "Foofer Soofer" is hardly original but this cut ain't a slouch either. Isadora Duncan's life, as rendered through Tite Curet Alonso's "Isadora", with Celia Cruz uttering Duncan's assertiveness to a transitional generation caught between already dated Hispanic female roles and the excesses of Anglo-European feminisms, is another tapaboca (slap in the mouth) for the Infante crowd. Aside from the fact that the composition stands on its own as a fine musical piece, its socio-cultural importance is worth studying. "Fania All Stars' Chá Chá Chá" is a slow sounding midtempo bolerized Chá with a clichéd Pérez-Prado vocal intrusion. There is no reason, however, why it shouldn't be included in any so-called Smooth Jazz programming list even today. Louie Ramírez's "Los Bravos," became a minor Fania All Stars battle call whereupon the increasing influence of bassist Sal Cuevas is evident. His playing was somewhat controversial at the time partly because of bass figures that were not enslaved to the Cuban tumbao and closer to funkified plucking techniques that were eventually assimilated and superseded, although at the time they were a genuine alternative to the bass tradition in Salsa musical circles. This tune, on the other hand, is also showcase for Ramírez's vibe work. "¿Qué Pasa?" is the last Gale-Pacheco tune in this record featuring yet another variation on their notion of an easy listening Fania All Stars experience with David Sanborn soloing. It actually works! "Prepara" is the most extensive song in the compilation with Blades' interpreting his own theme. It is a gem of a performance and conception with a steady mid to slow tempo Salsa cool swing with Lucca all over an electric piano prior to some passion under Pacheco's flute. "Peanuts (The Peanut Vendor)" got its groovy 60's retro-lounge musical treatment at the hands of the Fania All Stars during the 70's in this reinterpretation. Even the Puerto Rican bomba rhythm was implicated here. Blades and Ramírez close with "Sin Tu Cariño." This is another superior Salsa dancing contribution that swung into great popularity with soloing from Ramírez, Lucca, and Rohena. Play it in any salsero party and watch how everyone knows the lyrics to this tune and dance to it.

Taken in its own terms, there is nothing to be ashamed in ¿Qué Pasa? The Best of the Fania All Stars and much to celebrate… albeit less boisterously than usual for them.

Even now, after dying in 1984 and reaching the peak of his fame six decades ago, Machito's name manages to be enmeshed --like dolphin among tuna-- in the type of public controversy ordinary among musicians lore. Trumpeter Alfredo "Chocolate" Armenteros accuses Mario Grillo, Jr. --Machito's son and current leader of the band-- for alleged financial "treason" and misuse of his name in the promotion of a series of events with the current Machito Orchestra. Alejandra Villasmil issued "Chocolate's" comments and accusations to the press in a July 31, '02 EFE news cable, before an imminent homage to his 53 years of musical work. Armenteros' playful self graced Machito's Afro Cubans --until a little more than a month ago-- since the 60's. Although I love the smell of controversy in the morning, let's leave this one to develop fully as Machito's Afro-Cubans had in the 50's as documented in all 20 sides recorded for Columbia in Machito & His Afro-Cuban Orchestra: The Complete Columbia Masters.

The account of two stereotypical New York older brothers --with one of them predictably retired in South Florida-- offers a thumbnail image of the Machito experience. It is a tale of two youngsters who swung themselves to exhaustion dancing under the stylish maraca playing of Machito as he directed the course of his Afro Cubans with the remarkable musical talent of Mario Bauzá. The youth of those New Yorkers coincided with a musical spike in that city's history and they took full advantage of the opportunity to share in the Big Band bounty of Machito, Tito Puente, and Tito Rodríguez. To hear them talk about their experiences at the time, as they happen to be my brothers in law, is to hear a first hand account of the beneficiaries of Machito's toils, i.e. the audience. The people who bought the records, attended the dances and whose interests were in mind when this music was conceived and produced, as well as broadcasted, are a commonly missing factor in musical documentation. No matter what contemporary or posterior critics have to say, consult your local former Mambo era consumer for the true grit on it. They know the times as well as any musician, true scholar or pretenders thereof. In an interview with Ben Young, in the liner notes to Cuban Blues: The Chico O'Farrill Sessions, Chico described the Machito band as having occasional difficulties with their intonation and not being technically proficient --"they were mostly a swinging band, a rhythmic band"-- he said. My brothers in law --and the Machito Columbia compilation at hand-- will attest to that and much more.

The 20 tracks in this opportune Columbia/Legacy compilation also serve well as an apprenticeship of sorts. Aside from some music with true perennial value and quality, at the hands of Mario Bauzá, there are killer dancing tunes from which most contemporary Salsa could learn a lifetime or two. Furthermore, listeners and scholars alike can glean scores of information on miscellaneous disparate issues such as the use of Hispanic double entendres during the mythical North American society of the 50's and the festive sense of resignation when facing the prospect of the end of the world --with Machito improvising on the still pertinent threat of the H-bomb on "Ay Que Mate."

"Holiday Mambo" has a melodic Hava Nagilaish trumpet led indicator that --as the said Jewish folk song of joy does-- builds up upon its own energy until its self-release in a steady Mambo beat written by O'Farrill himself. Graciela, who was Machito's sister and came to the USA from Cuba in '42 when her brother was drafted into the U.S. Army, genuinely interpreted Ernesto Duarte's "¿Dónde estabas tú?" She is a sparkle of life with a style of her own that adds its own sense of poignancy to this tale of a Black fellow who took several instruments with him preventing others from having a good time. "Carambola" is a Mambo amalgamated version of a hybrid by Gillespie & O'Farrill. It has its own wallop. "¡Ay! ¡Qué mate!" is a mischievous Machito composition that even manages to include references to Joan of Arc and nuclear devices in its edgy and alluring Mambo pulse. The matehe's talking about is not the Argentinean one… "Mambo à la Savoy," is one of several Gil Fuller/Machito collaborations. It is quintessential New York '50s with the vocal support of The Skylarks in a tune dedicated to the famed Savoy Ballroom from Harlem. Although its vocals might sound dated and corny for contemporary ears, this swinging tune served its purpose well: it promoted both product and venue so well that we are still talking about both. Swinging In "¿Qué me falta?" Graciela interprets a bolero composed by Arsenio Rodríguez. A lyrical work of beauty oozing romance through a self-questioning lament, distinguishes this tune. Her gift for this type of interpretation, as some refer to her as the "Queen of the Bolero," was recently highlighted by Steve Turre in his Verve self-titled release. "Amalia los invita" is a dancer's delight with the type of tasty punch Cuban Pete ate up in his youth. "Bongo Fiesta" is a bongo led jam featuring José Mangual, Sr.Mitch Miller's oboe playing in "Oboe Mambo" is as rare as it is superb. Quite a different sense of swing you will find here. Carlos, Mario and Pituko Rigual were a Cuban trio that gained international fame beyond the island managing to appear in several films. Paired with Graciela in "Contigo en la distancia" --a classical composition by César Portillo de la Luz recently reinterpreted by Charlie Haden in Nocturne-- they create a memorable experience. They return swinging hard with Machito in "Freezelandia" which is a good-humored name for the City of New York as an admiration and love is openly expressed for the Big Apple. The final incursion of the Rigual brothers finds them with Graciela in "Hay que recordar" making you long for a dancing floor and someone to get close to while dreaming of love under the piano's spell. "Sambia" is what we used to call mazacote pelú (hairy nasty-deep-blacker 'n' thicker-than molasses swingingness). Luis Miranda gets his chance here burning as hot as anyone else does. Check out the jazz inflected sax scorching solo. Afro Cuba comes to the fore with a '50s update through "Bee-Ree-Bee-Kym-Bee" (Biribicumbi), an onomatopoeic composition from Antar Daly who was fond of such devices. This is another classic swinging piece with a nice earthy bass touch by recently deceased Bobby Rodríguez. Graciela does her sexually charged number in "Sí Sí No No." She used to put on quite a show that entertained the crowds making them laugh at all the double entendres. No one could follow that act! "Mambo Inn" needs little comment as its reach is global. A fantastic rendition with sax, piano and ensemble, with a muted trumpet starting point, as we say poniéndola en la luna (putting it in the moon). "Negro Ñañamboro" sweats Eastern Cuban carnival all over a heated delivery arrollando como é (get a Cuban to translate that one for you). Check out that percussive jazz trumpet solo and the course changes throughout the tune. "Adiós" is a mid-tempo Mambo with plenty of dancing charge. "Bella Mora" (Beautiful Moorish Woman) --a rare unreleased song from 1952-- is reason enough to purchase this compact disc. An enchanting flutist allures the listener with mystery tinged in his blowing. The brass riffs get across an elegant Iberian bodaciousness, with an Afro Cuban foundation à la Snuffy Smith riding his steed through Hootin' Holler, i.e., steady, firm, engaging, yet peaceful. "Mambo mucho mambo" closes this excellent record with Machito and his communicable lightheartedness from which we can all certainly benefit. Not one can have enough Mambo in his life!

Yet, before Machito hit it in the '50s, he worked as a young cat with Xavier Cugat.

Cugat is the stereotypical case of the booming musician who had it and did it all while scorned by a few equally conventional so-called purists. Within just a few years after the '20s technological advances in the recording industry allowed the initial dissemination of Cuban music throughout the world, this Chihuahua lover was a national multi-media figure even during the depression! The Joe Conzo's liner notes are right on track giving Cugat his due. Beyond Curbelo, Arnaz, Machito, Pozo, Puente, Rodríguez, Santamaría and Arsenio stands Cugat in many respects. Although the Cugat tale --whose life and career ought to be documented in film-- has not been told yet, Xavier Cugat-The Original Latin Dance King is a high-quality profile of the music produced by this fascinating character. Herein you are introduced to a danceable, highly enjoyable and educational listeningship. Since it would take a small treatise to document and comment on all the musicians, vocalists, arrangers and composers featured in this collection, the credits do not include the recording musicians. There's plenty of musical royalty involved here and it shows in their performances.

"Babalú" became the epicenter of singer Miguelito Valdés' career. It is outright funny how the name of an Afro Cuban deity became common parlance in our society through this exotically tinged tune. Valdés, who ably conveys the roguish character of said divinity in his singing, is one of the most important vocalists of his kind ever. Herein you can find out why that's so. "Jamay" inaugurates marimbas in this type of ensemble and musical context. Their effect over this tightly wounded mid-tempo mambo sweetens the pot for a piano and marimba interchange of unquestionable quality. In "Anana Boroco Tinde," a Chano Pozo composition derived from Afro Cuban jargon, Miguelito Valdés returns to show why he is the premiere exponent of that type of Afro Cuban singing with plenty of motivation for dancers to revel in it. Abbe Lane, called by a latter source the "swingingest sexpot in show business," has a lot of fun with "The Brand New Cha Cha." "Cuca" is jammin' all the way through. Pianist Noro Morales wrote "Bim Bam Bum" for Cugat and it became and instant hit. Tito Rodríguez's capacity for becoming a legendary figure can already be gleaned from this excellent historical playful performance. When Vitín Avilés arrived in New York from Puerto Rico in the '40s, Cugat quickly recruited the versatile singer who can be enjoyed in "A Bailar Merengue" during one of the earliest popularizations of this rhythmic family from the Dominican Republic. "Coco Seco" it's an outstanding rendition of a hard swinging mambo that made it all the way through the Salsa canon at the hands of Bobby Valentín. Pepito Arvelo adds his swinging good taste in vocals. One lays back a bit on "Suavecito" although the drive is very much still there. Arvelo also charges melodically ahead on this one. Aladdin and the Boyd Triplets vocalize "Miami Beach Rhumba." Apparently, Panamanian Elena (Boyd) del Rubio one of the Triplets, died last year in California. Do listen to the lyrics… The title of the instrumental "Yo Quiero un Mambo" means "I Want a Mambo," a request well answered here. Aside from singing, Miguelito Valdés also composed. Most of his better-known works were inspired on the conga music performed by the Cuban comparsa troupes officially sanctioned for carnival since 1937. Whether or not he actually wrote "Son los Dandis," as he's credited in the liner notes, is another matter altogether. Los Dandis, from the English "dandy," was a well to do comparsa troupe from Havana. Remember the ubiquitous and riotous conga lines? Herein you will find a popular form of its ancestry in the U.S. with much flair and musical quality from all concerned. "Mambo Jambo" is Pérez Prado à la Cugat. "Ritmo Tropical" finds Avilés returning with another swinging merengue. Latin bands used to have specialty singers when they could afford them. As said singers used to switch ensembles, they would learn to sing different types of music and only the fittest would survive in the end. Avilés survived for a long time… Juan Manuel, of whom little is known, sings the fast Cha-Mambo "(The Chi Chi) Cha Cha Cha." Arsenio's "Yo ta Namora" is yet another showcase for Miguelito Valdés' prodigious capacity to incarnate Cuban blackness in his voicings. The arrangement and performance are in par with the melodically haunting tune. Abbe Lane interprets "The Anything Can Happen Mambo" with equal parts sensuality and fun. One can just imagine the reaction of the public to her and the band during this number. "Mambo Gordo," or Fat Mambo, is precisely that. The singer is not listed in the credits. "Bésame Mucho" is a worldwide standard that is caressed by Cugat just like he used to caress his dogs, i.e., with affection and pleasure. As Chihuahuas go, they can't sit still for too long and this romantic instrumental evolves into a fiery tune with a singer that sounds awfully close to the previously unidentified one, listed here as Otto Bolívar or Del Campo. Valdés does his number in "Tumbao," a Bauzá/Cugat scorching conga collaboration. Arvelo and the band offer one of the best formulas for happiness in "Bread, Love, and Cha Cha Cha," according to Cugat and René Touzet. That might not be all you need in order to be content, but the tune will certainly help in such regards. "La Mucura" is ingrained in every recent Latin American generation and you would be hard pressed to find any Spanish speaker that doesn't know it. The ensemble serves this standard extremely well. Although the liner notes state the presence of English lyrics, this is an instrumental piece that merely follows the melodic line with its own swing. 3 Beaus & a Peep do the vocals in "Cuban Mambo" with its own clichéd Prado grunt, amidst yet another swinger of a Mambo. "Mondonguero," with Valdés again, is misidentified in the liner notes as composed by Bauzá, when apparently it was T. Ayala who wrote it. It is yet another comparsa-like driving excursion above the speed limit. A "Mondongo" is a type of stew commonly found throughout many Spanish speaking countries. It is made of a wide array of ingredients and gastronomical references are integral to the Latin repertoire. This one swing hard like a mondongo does in your system after eating it! Abbe Lane closes with "Who Me?" which has its own enjoyable and highly danceable features even today. Imagining Lane throwing kisses to the audience can fire off anyone's imagination!

Ritmo de la noche/Rhythm of the Night-The Very Best of Latin Jazz is as good a compilation as any with no particular thematic overview or intention other than providing selective access to some smoking music. Not all the material included deserves the jazz moniker although its overall quality is unquestionable nonetheless. Hardly any of the artists or the tunes themselves needs to be introduced to jazz audiences and the liner notes do provide enough information to supplement the excellent performances included in this release.

"Watermelon Man," a Herbie Hancock composition, allowed Mongo Santamaría to further his inroad into national renown as his following was never restricted to Spanish speaking audiences and he is not known for repressed musical conservatism. This is a killer tune for having a great good ol' time, aside from being an exploratory gesture of superb quality then and now. Remember the aforementioned Fania All Stars critics and musicians who derided the Columbia recordings in sundry forms? In this compilation, you will find the title cut from Ray Barretto's "La Cuna." Barretto had the good fortune, due in part to his participation in said Fania productions, as well as the inevitable downturn of musical taste that formerly favored him at the time, to do this excellent recording featuring the late great Charlie Palmieri on a highly relatable piano performance, as well as Joe Farrell's exquisite flute work. Barretto, would shortly thereafter dedicate himself almost exclusively to jazz. He now is a nostalgia act in Salsa circles while still complaining about his highly debatable perception that Salsa is now --and has been for a while-- dead. David Sánchez is featured with the title cut of his "Street Scenes" release. The melodic and harmonic ideas here have a jazz spirit and substance that lend their character well to its percussive underpinnings. Aside from the usual acumen Sánchez shows with his outstanding vocabulary, phrasing and sound, Danilo Pérez's piano playing carry the day in this excellent piece of writing by Sánchez. Astrud Gilberto's rendering of "Ponteio" (a Portuguese word that refers to a guitar playing technique), paired with Stanley Turrentine in the 1971 CTI release Gilberto With Turrentine, bears a close resemblance to the soothing vistas of fishing boats sliding in and out of port Paul Signac painted in 1891 at Concarneau, France. Such paintings, originally labeled with musical titles, were described by John Leighton, Director of the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam, in the Smithsonian magazine, as effecting "a slowly unfolding performance, played out in resonant and deliberate color harmonies." Add the eugenic, sultriness and sensuality that Brazilian performers such as Gilberto have, and you can have an idea of what is going on here. The same can be said about Turrentine's sortie in the Milton Nascimento composition "Vera Cruz" included here from the aforementioned Gilberto/Turrentine collaboration. In "Corazón," we get to listen to alto bluesy wailings of Hank Crawford in a funky performance with percussive tinges he knows all too well. The 6/8 Afro Cuban romp "Señor Blues," immortalized by Herbie Mann, shows him in great shape and form in a medium in which he is highly regarded and familiarized with. There is a brief sax statement, but the spotlight belongs to Mann, the arrangement and the steady pulse given by the percussion section led by Carlos "Patato" Valdés. Gato Barbieri follows with his own "Sweet Glenda" and one is reminded instantly why he's so highly regarded. This one carries some heat and his recognizable sax identity is remarkably clear. "Stone Flower" is another title cut in this compilation. It features Antonio Carlos Jobim at the height of his career in a superbly brilliant tune from an album that many critics consider as a definitive work in Jobim's discography. "Stella By Starlight" allows Arturo Sandoval to be shown chastising the piano with his testosteronal piano playing. Those of us who witnessed his first presentation as a pianist in a concert to benefit WDNA 88.9 FM, attest to the fact that Sandoval can equal, or supersede, his capacity as a trumpet player. If you like his blowing, you will like his fingering… "Samba de Sausalito" is culled from Santana's widely known and disseminated oeuvre. The keyboards and organ are preeminently featured and given strength by a thickly woven drive in this brief, albeit, punchy tune. Israel López "Cachao" offers a jam session in "A Gozar Con Mi Combo" which cannot be legitimately called jazz, but hardly anyone would care after getting carried away under its spell. "Ritmo de la Noche," performed and written by Al Di Meola, starts out in a midtempo bolero-son pace only to squirrel frenetically until its coda returns to its initial statement. Plenty to enjoy here as smooth would be quite a misnomer for this one. It has the cadence of a fiery night making love beginning with caresses, letting the flames of love to lap over as the caressing release comes in the end. The Ed Calle "Autumn" composition is the most extended piece in this record and quite a worthy introduction to this Venezuelan saxophonist whose sound, technique and ideas are akin to an imaginary Barbieri/Lovano hybrid. "Eu Vim da Bahía" is sung by João Gilberto and taken from a Stan Getz release that merits close attention. Melodic gratification can be achieved rather quickly with this Gilberto Gil composition. Finally, Paquito D'Rivera closes with "Manteca," recorded not too long after leaving his Castro oppressed native Cuba. The angst, energy and hunger D'Rivera displayed in his Columbia period can be experienced here to its tilt. The harmonica touch is deliciously groovy!

There you have it; four distinguished products of Americana from Columbia/Legacy and the myths continue their march on musical notes...

Xavier Cugat-The Original Latin Dance King BR> Tracks: 1. "Babalú" 2. "Jamay" 3. "Anana Boroco Tinde" 4. "The Brand New Cha Cha" 5. "Cuca" 6. "Bim Bam Bum" 7. "A Bailar Merengue" 8. "Coco Seco" 9. "Suavecito" 10. "Miami Beach Rhumba" 11. "Yo Quiero un Mambo" 12. "Son los Dandis" 13. "Mambo Jambo" 14. "Ritmo Tropical" 15. "(The Chi Chi) Cha Cha Cha" 16. "Yo ta Namora" 17. "The Anything Can Happen Mambo" 18. "Mambo Gordo" 19. "Bésame Mucho" 20. "Tumbao" 21. "Bread, Love, and Cha Cha Cha" 22. "La Mucura" 23. "Cuban Mambo" 24. "Mondonguero" 25. "Mondongo" 26. "Who Me?"

Personnel: Xavier Cugat & His Orchestra, except for 1, 12, 16, and 24, by Xavier Cugat & His Waldorf-Astoria Orchestra.

Machito & His Afro-Cuban Orchestra: The Complete Columbia Masters
Tracks: 1. "Holiday Mambo" 2. "¿Dónde estabas tú?" 3. "Carambola" 4. "¡Ay! ¡Qué mate!" 5. "Mambo à la Savoy" 6. "¿Qué me falta?" 7. "Amalia los invita" 8. "Bongo Fiesta" 9. "Oboe Mambo" 10. "Contigo en la distancia" 11. "Freezelandia" 12. "Hay que recordar" 13. "Sambia" 14. "Bee-Ree-Bee-Kym-Bee" 15. "Sí Sí No No" 16. "Mambo Inn" 17. "Negro Ñañamboro" 18. "Adiós" 19. "Bella Mora" 20. "Mambo mucho mambo"

Personnel: Bass: Bobby Rodríguez. Bongos: José Mangual. Conga: Luis Miranda. Maracas: Machito. Oboe: Mitch Miller (9) Piano: René Hernández. Saxophones: Lenny Hambro, Gene Johnson, Leslie Johnakins, José Madera, Freddie Skerritt. Timbales: Ubaldo Nieto. Trombones: Eddie Bert, Vern Friley, Fred Vito. Trumpets: Mario Bauzá (Musical Director), Frank Dávila, Ed Medina, Bobby Woodlin. Vocals: Graciela (2, 6, 8, 10, 12, 14-15), Los Hermanos Rigual (10-12), Machito (3-5, 7-8, 11, 17, 20), The Skylarks (5).

¿Qué Pasa? The Best of Fania All-Stars
Tracks: 1. "Ella Fue (She Was the One)" 2. "Coro Miyare" 3. "Picadillo" 4. "Juan Pachanga" 5. "Donde" 6. "Foofer Soofer" 7. "Isadora" 8. "Fania All-Stars' Cha Cha Cha" 9. "Los Bravos" 10. "¿Qué Pasa?" 11. "Prepara" 12. "Peanuts (The Peanut Vendor)" 13. "Sin Tu Cariño"

Personnel: The musicians from all four Fania albums comprised in this compilation are listed in the liner notes, albeit with some credits missing.

Ritmo de la noche/Rhythm of the Night-The Very Best of Latin Jazz
Tracks & Artists: 1. "Watermelon Man"-Mongo Santamaría 2. "La Cuna"-Ray Barretto 3. "Street Scenes"-David Sánchez 4. "Ponteio"-Astrud Gilberto 5. "Corazón"-Hank Crawford 6. "Señor Blues"-Herbie Mann 7. "Sweet Glenda"-Gato Barbieri 8. "Stone Flower"-Antonio Carlos Jobim 9. "Stella By Starlight"-Arturo Sandoval 10. "Samba de Sausalito"-Santana 11. "Vera Cruz"-Stanley Turrentine 12. "A Gozar Con Mi Combo"-Cachao 13. "Ritmo de la Noche"-Al Di Meola 14. "Autumn"-Ed Calle 15. "Eu Vim da Bahía"-Stan Getz 16. "Manteca"-Paquito D'Rivera