Café: Café

Reviewing an archival album is always a challenge. To do something justice is a matter of both gaining and losing perspective: to hear it as an audience first did, and then, presumably, to find its influence, if consequential. Verifying a band's authenticity is usually not difficult but Café presents just such a problem. Its single release dates from the early 1970s. Contemporaneous documentation of performance and reception is indeed difficult to find. To say that Fania reached deep into its archives seems an understatement. One can document an original in 1974 in the United States and in Venezuela. Beyond that, buena suerte. The band is said to have been a project of Ray Barretto's, but Barretto has been gone nearly twenty years, so it is not as if anyone can ask him. Even the personnel do not necessarily ring a bell. (Ron Tooley on trumpet is an exception, but this recording does not seem to be in his discography), although a genuine specialist in Nuyorican salsa might be able to help. The music is good, very much of its era, and channeling Blood, Sweat and Tears, Santana, War, Malo, Chase, and probably others. But whether, as someone suggested, this was a one-off studio project, or a live outfit is another matter. Perhaps it is, on the whole, not important, because the vinyl is a good listen, particularly for someone young then

Bluntly, does it matter? Not really. Swing fans listen to ghost bands all the time. And enjoy the performance.

So what does a listener get with Café? There are nine tracks, starting with "Si Dáme Tu Amor," which features a solid horn line and an uncredited trumpet solo. If that does not scratch a 1970s itch, "I Like to Be With You," summer-night mellow, certainly might. Or "Move and Groove," with echoes of David Clayton-Thomas and jazz-rock. Or "My Chance is Due," which could be a Latin Elton John or "But Once I Loved You," maybe Santana. If anything, the problem for Café was that the band sounded an awful lot like many others, but rarely, on this recording, like anything uniquely itself. That is, of course, hardly an unusual issue, but there was a lot of first-rate competition then. Thus, "Well, why not go with the original?" if the question was ever raised, it may not have been an unfair one. You know, "Like why do we need two of the same thing?" There was nothing wrong with a good Latin band covering someone else's sound, if not necessarily its material. And that is probably what best characterizes Café: original material and arrangements, but not exactly a unique identity, let alone sound.

In passing, it might be worth asking Craft Recordings and Fania to document a recording as obscure as this appears to be a little more carefully. It is not too much to ask for a premium price and an audiophile sound!

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