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| Track list: 1. Chan Chan 2. De Camino a la Vereda 3. El Cuarto de Tula 4. Pueblo Nuevo 5. Dos Gardenias 6. ¿Y Tú Qué Has Hecho? 7. Veinte Años 8. El Carretero 9. Candela 10. Amor de Loca Juventud 11. Orgullecida 12. Murmullo 13. Buena Vista Social Club 14. La Bayamesa Running time: 60 minutes Released: 1997 |
This is one of the albums that I have very strong memories around. It was a common player in my 2nd year student accommodation as it was one both myself and my then flatmate had a strong affinity for, especially having seen the accompanying film. I return to is sparingly these days - as with everything! - and really it is only the immediate opening of Chan Chan that sticks with me. That said, there is more to the disc than that.
Still, it is there we start, strong chords, considered rhythm and then the harmonious vocal. Takes me back a good few years. Timeless, though - definitely dated, but not in a way that suggests irrelevance any time soon. I cannot understand the first thing about the lyrics, but I can certainly appreciate the lyricism in the delivery - a nice flow to the chorus phrases both in terms of emphasis and rhythm, and the horns that answer it are gorgeous. The track that follows up has a much lighter, carefree feel. It isn't as visceral, not as immediately affecting. It is accompanied by the chirping of some kind of local insect providing a live percussion to go with the digitally served main attraction. It is bright outside, but was supposed to rain today - a stroke of luck in what has been a depressing couple of days. I am not really feeling this track though. Its gentle inoffensiveness is just a bit too bland, and it is this blandness which allows the insects outside to intrude.
In truth their incessant calls at mid afternoon are something of a surprise; I am more used to these things happening at dusk. I lose track of them as El Cuarto de Tula starts - this is a more vibrant number, more engaging and enjoyable. A stronger rhythm and bolder sounds (horns, more horns!) makes for a better piece, though I now find my ear inexorably drawn to the drums and caught in a loop that suddenly seems to dominate the track. This song goes on a fair while, so that domination is not appreciated... I can't blame the musicians for where my ear has happened to fall though.
The Buena Vista Social Club story is an enchanting one, a relic of the strange timewarp that was (and to a degree still is, I guess; I wouldn't know) communist Cuba. Good music helps one engage with stories, and this story was very much built around the music and its appeal. I would certainly recommend checking out the film if you have any curiosity about the music. In isolation on the soundtrack, you get only part of the picture - albeit the most significant part. Pueblo Nuevo is a nice piano number. I was - in accordance with the biases I have expressed many times before - very much drawn to pianist Rubén González, just shy of 80 at time of recording, and this playful little tune is a good example of that affinity. The keys appear to wander all over whilst drums and guitars provide a suitable backdrop for such meandering. You can certainly imagine this being played by much younger men in a lively Havana bar for appreciative crowds, but perhaps the most golden moment in the tune is how it closes, wonderfully bringing that wandering to a point, swelling, signalling the end and then accepting the (imagined) applause.
The album is stacked with longer tracks towards the start and we now hit a run of shorter (sub 4-minute) pieces, racking through them. I am partial to Dos Gardenias - horns once more, but also the theatre in the vocal. It is funny, though how for most of these tunes I cannot associate the sound to the given track name. I can recognise them as they start, but not pull from memory. I find myself liking the more piquant guitar tracks, where the pluck has a bit of bite rather than a languid air. If the guitar contents to be support, fine - by all means keep things loose and gentle - but where its melodies are the lead, that spice and intent is vital to carrying an interest. That said, whilst that edge is present on Veinte Años, the pace is a little too relaxed for my taste, even before the sound is ruined by a car alarm blaring off somewhere nearby.
The alarm continues through the opening dark thrum of El Carretero, which is a shame. This track has a drama to it. Despite a very simple basic form there is an energy to it, a pulse, a closeness. It is rather magical, and the hum in the primary vocal line in places sets this off nicely. The track that follows tries to re-bottle that lightning with a slightly different rhythm. In truth it suffers for following on so immediately; it is far from a bad tune but it is less interesting for the similarity.
One of the reasons that my listens have been sparse of late is that, in summer, primacy goes to listening to the cricket. Test Match Special is the pinnacle of radio as far as I am concerned, but after play finishes (often quite late) I am loathed to listen to anything else in an active capacity. I bring this up because were I not abroad and unable to access the netcast of commentary I would not be fitting this in now. England are doing pretty well, it seems from text commentary; just as they did in the Rugby yesterday. I half regret not being able to follow properly for a brief moment - but then remind myself of the climate and other benefits of being away and forget. Off to the islands tomorrow; can't wait. On the record Candela finished and the much more gentle strains of Amor de Loca Juventud emanate from my speaker. I am a little disengaged from it again - too "nice" for the here and now.
Not that "nice" is a bad thing. Nice makes great fire-and-forget background music, which fits nicely with one stereotype of this sort of Latin number - itinerant musicians playing for their supper whilst tourists dine. Unfortunately Orgullecida has a little too much of this, exacerbated by the almost Hawaiian trills. The horns save it, because when the main theme is taken up by brass rather than string it is much more enjoyable, more contrast and purpose. We are nearing the back end of the disc now, and we dive back into another piano-led number. It is a little rambling - and not in the joyful, engaging way of Pueblo Nuevo. It is a more sombre song, as the vocal performance makes clear, carrying as it does a hint of melancholy. Then it is gone. The title track which follows has a degree of strut to it, whilst it is slow and relatively sparse and quiet compared to the brash boast of Chan Chan, there is something similar in attitude if nothing else. The piano reminds me of Monk for some reason, the fluid nature of the play perhaps?
This feels like something that should have a very deliberate dance to accompany it, not something that should languish at the back end of the album. The impact and nature of the piece are diluted somewhat for me coming, as they do, after a few slower pieces without the same intensity. Something about the pace not feeling quite right.
The final number is the shortest, a slow harmony that - it seems to me - should never be sung before sundown. It has a nice sound, one that evokes closing time. Appropriate then that it should close the album and this listen. I have largely enjoyed this, as indeed I expected to, but I did find that it drifted a bit in the middle. A strong start and a strong end, with some highlights scattered in between make Buena Vista Social Club a welcome part of my library; it is a classic that deserves some occasional love.
Still, it is there we start, strong chords, considered rhythm and then the harmonious vocal. Takes me back a good few years. Timeless, though - definitely dated, but not in a way that suggests irrelevance any time soon. I cannot understand the first thing about the lyrics, but I can certainly appreciate the lyricism in the delivery - a nice flow to the chorus phrases both in terms of emphasis and rhythm, and the horns that answer it are gorgeous. The track that follows up has a much lighter, carefree feel. It isn't as visceral, not as immediately affecting. It is accompanied by the chirping of some kind of local insect providing a live percussion to go with the digitally served main attraction. It is bright outside, but was supposed to rain today - a stroke of luck in what has been a depressing couple of days. I am not really feeling this track though. Its gentle inoffensiveness is just a bit too bland, and it is this blandness which allows the insects outside to intrude.
In truth their incessant calls at mid afternoon are something of a surprise; I am more used to these things happening at dusk. I lose track of them as El Cuarto de Tula starts - this is a more vibrant number, more engaging and enjoyable. A stronger rhythm and bolder sounds (horns, more horns!) makes for a better piece, though I now find my ear inexorably drawn to the drums and caught in a loop that suddenly seems to dominate the track. This song goes on a fair while, so that domination is not appreciated... I can't blame the musicians for where my ear has happened to fall though.
The Buena Vista Social Club story is an enchanting one, a relic of the strange timewarp that was (and to a degree still is, I guess; I wouldn't know) communist Cuba. Good music helps one engage with stories, and this story was very much built around the music and its appeal. I would certainly recommend checking out the film if you have any curiosity about the music. In isolation on the soundtrack, you get only part of the picture - albeit the most significant part. Pueblo Nuevo is a nice piano number. I was - in accordance with the biases I have expressed many times before - very much drawn to pianist Rubén González, just shy of 80 at time of recording, and this playful little tune is a good example of that affinity. The keys appear to wander all over whilst drums and guitars provide a suitable backdrop for such meandering. You can certainly imagine this being played by much younger men in a lively Havana bar for appreciative crowds, but perhaps the most golden moment in the tune is how it closes, wonderfully bringing that wandering to a point, swelling, signalling the end and then accepting the (imagined) applause.
The album is stacked with longer tracks towards the start and we now hit a run of shorter (sub 4-minute) pieces, racking through them. I am partial to Dos Gardenias - horns once more, but also the theatre in the vocal. It is funny, though how for most of these tunes I cannot associate the sound to the given track name. I can recognise them as they start, but not pull from memory. I find myself liking the more piquant guitar tracks, where the pluck has a bit of bite rather than a languid air. If the guitar contents to be support, fine - by all means keep things loose and gentle - but where its melodies are the lead, that spice and intent is vital to carrying an interest. That said, whilst that edge is present on Veinte Años, the pace is a little too relaxed for my taste, even before the sound is ruined by a car alarm blaring off somewhere nearby.
The alarm continues through the opening dark thrum of El Carretero, which is a shame. This track has a drama to it. Despite a very simple basic form there is an energy to it, a pulse, a closeness. It is rather magical, and the hum in the primary vocal line in places sets this off nicely. The track that follows tries to re-bottle that lightning with a slightly different rhythm. In truth it suffers for following on so immediately; it is far from a bad tune but it is less interesting for the similarity.
One of the reasons that my listens have been sparse of late is that, in summer, primacy goes to listening to the cricket. Test Match Special is the pinnacle of radio as far as I am concerned, but after play finishes (often quite late) I am loathed to listen to anything else in an active capacity. I bring this up because were I not abroad and unable to access the netcast of commentary I would not be fitting this in now. England are doing pretty well, it seems from text commentary; just as they did in the Rugby yesterday. I half regret not being able to follow properly for a brief moment - but then remind myself of the climate and other benefits of being away and forget. Off to the islands tomorrow; can't wait. On the record Candela finished and the much more gentle strains of Amor de Loca Juventud emanate from my speaker. I am a little disengaged from it again - too "nice" for the here and now.
Not that "nice" is a bad thing. Nice makes great fire-and-forget background music, which fits nicely with one stereotype of this sort of Latin number - itinerant musicians playing for their supper whilst tourists dine. Unfortunately Orgullecida has a little too much of this, exacerbated by the almost Hawaiian trills. The horns save it, because when the main theme is taken up by brass rather than string it is much more enjoyable, more contrast and purpose. We are nearing the back end of the disc now, and we dive back into another piano-led number. It is a little rambling - and not in the joyful, engaging way of Pueblo Nuevo. It is a more sombre song, as the vocal performance makes clear, carrying as it does a hint of melancholy. Then it is gone. The title track which follows has a degree of strut to it, whilst it is slow and relatively sparse and quiet compared to the brash boast of Chan Chan, there is something similar in attitude if nothing else. The piano reminds me of Monk for some reason, the fluid nature of the play perhaps?
This feels like something that should have a very deliberate dance to accompany it, not something that should languish at the back end of the album. The impact and nature of the piece are diluted somewhat for me coming, as they do, after a few slower pieces without the same intensity. Something about the pace not feeling quite right.
The final number is the shortest, a slow harmony that - it seems to me - should never be sung before sundown. It has a nice sound, one that evokes closing time. Appropriate then that it should close the album and this listen. I have largely enjoyed this, as indeed I expected to, but I did find that it drifted a bit in the middle. A strong start and a strong end, with some highlights scattered in between make Buena Vista Social Club a welcome part of my library; it is a classic that deserves some occasional love.
