Cádiz born singer/songwriter and guitar virtuoso Javier Ruibal performs tonight at NYC's S.O.B.s. I got late notice on this, but if you happen to be around, definitely check it out. Ruibal is a poetic singer whose lyrics are directly influenced by the visceral vibrancy expressed by many of the poets from what is known as Spain's Generation of 1927. A mix of Federico García Lorca's blood lust and Rafael Alberti's wit set to the artful strumming and sun-drenched vocals of an artist who hasn't strayed far from his Spanish tavern roots. Tickets are $12, for more info you can also visit http://www.fundarte.us/Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Javier Ruibal At S.O.B.s Tonight!
Cádiz born singer/songwriter and guitar virtuoso Javier Ruibal performs tonight at NYC's S.O.B.s. I got late notice on this, but if you happen to be around, definitely check it out. Ruibal is a poetic singer whose lyrics are directly influenced by the visceral vibrancy expressed by many of the poets from what is known as Spain's Generation of 1927. A mix of Federico García Lorca's blood lust and Rafael Alberti's wit set to the artful strumming and sun-drenched vocals of an artist who hasn't strayed far from his Spanish tavern roots. Tickets are $12, for more info you can also visit http://www.fundarte.us/
Thursday, November 6, 2008
North Meets Northeast Meets Rio
Rio de Janeiro has traditionally moved to the rhythmic intensity of samba and the cool sway of bossa nova. But the city’s urban youth also has a strong predilection for homegrown hip-hop – a genre A Filial deftly melds with the city’s musical legacy on their U.S. debut, $1,99, out in December on NYC label Verge Records. When the five-member crew first banded together they recorded tracks using a PlayStation, a karaoke machine, a $10 mic, and a musical toy, all dubbed down on a secondhand cassette. On their latest ouput A Filial remained committed to their rudimentary roots. They laid down beats on hacked software in two of the members’ non-sound proof apartment overlooking Rio, surrounded by forests in the bohemian neighborhood of Santa Teresa. GGC corresponded via email with A Filial trumpeter and MC Ben Lamar, a former teacher who grew up in Chicago's southside listening to his father's Brazilian music collection. The story of his friendship with A Filial founder Edu Lopes transcends cultural, geographical and language barriers through a common love of music that's universal.
GGC: What does A Filial mean? What's the story behind the name?
BL: A Filial has its magical origins from the Portuguese word “filho” which means “son”. A Filial is the child of the relationship between music and the people who are involved in its creation. Its the awareness that the project is simply the result of the web of relationships that keep it alive and healthy with the love of a child.
GGC: You guys were skateboarders before you became musicians or before you decided to band together as such, right? How has that particular sub-culture influenced your sound and the band's perspective?
BL: The first members of the group met on the street while skating. In Brazil, skateboard is an important element of the Hip Hop culture. In the U.S. there are basically 3 elements of Hip Hop: Rapping, Breaking, and Graffiti. In Brazil there is a fourth element added and that’s Skating. The skateboard culture when viewed in its earliest and rawest form has a strong connection to the earliest and rawest forms music or any art form for that matter. It’s done on the streets, close to the people, and represents a sense of expressive rebellion.
GGC: What are some of your influences from American hip-hop, past and present and Brazil's rich musical landscape?
GGC: What does A Filial mean? What's the story behind the name?
BL: A Filial has its magical origins from the Portuguese word “filho” which means “son”. A Filial is the child of the relationship between music and the people who are involved in its creation. Its the awareness that the project is simply the result of the web of relationships that keep it alive and healthy with the love of a child.
GGC: You guys were skateboarders before you became musicians or before you decided to band together as such, right? How has that particular sub-culture influenced your sound and the band's perspective?
BL: The first members of the group met on the street while skating. In Brazil, skateboard is an important element of the Hip Hop culture. In the U.S. there are basically 3 elements of Hip Hop: Rapping, Breaking, and Graffiti. In Brazil there is a fourth element added and that’s Skating. The skateboard culture when viewed in its earliest and rawest form has a strong connection to the earliest and rawest forms music or any art form for that matter. It’s done on the streets, close to the people, and represents a sense of expressive rebellion.
GGC: What are some of your influences from American hip-hop, past and present and Brazil's rich musical landscape?
BL: Hard question. The list is infinite. Edu and I have had many hip hop listening sessions in our old apartment and on the playlist included artist like the Beastie Boys, Public Enemy, Run-Dmc, NWA, Krs One, Jungle Brothers, ATCQ, De La Soul,Wu Tang, Gang Starr, Mf Doom, Mc Lyte, just to name a few. Of course the Brazilian musical landscape is vast...We’ve been influenced by many from Cartola to Pixinguinha...Jobim to Baden Powell…Hermeto Pascoal to Luis Gonzaga..The groups of Tropicalismo, Jorge Ben, Chico Buarque..once again just to name a few.
GGC: In $1,99 you explore a lot of rhythms and styles from the Northeast - like maracatú, forro, frevo -- both in lyrical context and in the arrangements. Is there something about music from the Northeast that lends itself to be easily transplanted within the context of hip-hop music?
GGC: In $1,99 you explore a lot of rhythms and styles from the Northeast - like maracatú, forro, frevo -- both in lyrical context and in the arrangements. Is there something about music from the Northeast that lends itself to be easily transplanted within the context of hip-hop music?
BL: Well I think the music and rhythms of the Northeast need to be heard more. Most people outside of Brazil are not really hip to the sounds and culture of that region. The Brazilian music that is mostly exported or accepted by the rest of the globe is the music and style that came out of the Bossa Nova movement, which is amazingly beautiful, but it’s just the tip of the iceberg of Brazilian music culture. I know many great Brazilian musicians, legends, masters who suffer from this. On this album we tried to be slick and pay homage to the different rhythms/styles rarely heard, especially in Hip-Hop. But we tried to do it our way with total respect of the ancestors. Everything that is beautiful lends itself for integration so the music of the Northeast, or from wherever, lends itself to the context of Hip-Hop.
GGC: I noticed that the first part of the album is very bass heavy and then it becomes more organic, with more of a focus on Brazilian roots music and I think there are even a few instrumental tracks. There's a lot of variety and different contours. Can you go into the structure of the album a little and what you guys had set out to accomplish?
GGC: I noticed that the first part of the album is very bass heavy and then it becomes more organic, with more of a focus on Brazilian roots music and I think there are even a few instrumental tracks. There's a lot of variety and different contours. Can you go into the structure of the album a little and what you guys had set out to accomplish?
BL:There was no pre-planned structure of the album. We try to keep the music as honest as possible.The main goal is to touch on every human emotion. Sometimes as swe need different vehicles to express different emotions. The vehicle can be bass heavy, electro, or acoustic. As along as we are able to express issues that are present in our lives at the moment then the music is honest.
GGC: You actually grew up in Chicago. What is your connection with Brazil and Brazilian music and how did you end up becoming a part of a Brazilian hip-hop crew?
BL: I’m from the Southside of Chicago. My connection with Brazil began with my father and his late night music listening sessions that he allowed me and my older brother to be apart of. His record collection included everything from Soul, Jazz, Musicals, Rock, John Williams’s movie soundtracks, whatever. But the thing that set him apart from the rest of the people he knew was his Brazilian collection. So I grew up listening to the music of Vinicius de Moraes and Tom Jobim. That sound introduced me, like many other people of the world, to Brazil. So I decided to move to Brazil on the fly without knowing anyone, without speaking Portuguese, nor having much money.. always. I just travel with my instrument and the memories of the listening sessions with my father. The hunger to learn more about that sound and culture gave me courage to do what I did. To make a long crazy adventure short, I felt that there was part of me in Brazil so I took the risk to actually meet this side of Ben Lamar. The other Ben Lamar changed my life but he owes me some money..always. As for A Filial.. I actually jammed with them at one of the early A Filial shows in 2003. Edu and I somehow found a way to communicate with my non existent Portuguese and his terrible English. We taught one another each other’s language just from him picking me up from my over-priced “gringo” rate Copacabana apartment and hanging out discussing music. Actually Edu and I became friends through our similar childhood love for the music Jobim. Edu would sing the lyrics and I would hum the melody.
GGC: Where do you live now?
GGC: You actually grew up in Chicago. What is your connection with Brazil and Brazilian music and how did you end up becoming a part of a Brazilian hip-hop crew?
BL: I’m from the Southside of Chicago. My connection with Brazil began with my father and his late night music listening sessions that he allowed me and my older brother to be apart of. His record collection included everything from Soul, Jazz, Musicals, Rock, John Williams’s movie soundtracks, whatever. But the thing that set him apart from the rest of the people he knew was his Brazilian collection. So I grew up listening to the music of Vinicius de Moraes and Tom Jobim. That sound introduced me, like many other people of the world, to Brazil. So I decided to move to Brazil on the fly without knowing anyone, without speaking Portuguese, nor having much money.. always. I just travel with my instrument and the memories of the listening sessions with my father. The hunger to learn more about that sound and culture gave me courage to do what I did. To make a long crazy adventure short, I felt that there was part of me in Brazil so I took the risk to actually meet this side of Ben Lamar. The other Ben Lamar changed my life but he owes me some money..always. As for A Filial.. I actually jammed with them at one of the early A Filial shows in 2003. Edu and I somehow found a way to communicate with my non existent Portuguese and his terrible English. We taught one another each other’s language just from him picking me up from my over-priced “gringo” rate Copacabana apartment and hanging out discussing music. Actually Edu and I became friends through our similar childhood love for the music Jobim. Edu would sing the lyrics and I would hum the melody.
GGC: Where do you live now?
BL: Good question. Once again to make a crazy adventure short…I’m back in Chicago at the moment, but still living in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. I’m split between two worlds…maybe three at the moment.
GGC: Edu Lopes has said that A Filial's first tape was made using a Playstation, a karaoke set, a $10 mic, a toy that made music, and a used cassette. What recording techniques does the band use these days? Anything innovative or a little off-kilter?
BL: Well in Brazil things can always become little off-kilter. The people there have the skill to make do with many things that other people would have no idea how to utilize. From this I learned a lot. I wouldn’t say for this recording that we used anything “innovative”. I think the innovativeness lived in our endurance. I guess this is common for most independent artist like ourselves. Of course, we used the normal “Cracked” computer software, terrible mics, non-sound proof room, bounced back from being robbed multiple times of instruments at gunpoint..but hey…that’s the life of an independent artist. The other “off-kilter” recording techniques are secret…OOHH!!!
GGC: How does A Filial stand out from other Brazilian hip-hop crews?
GGC: Edu Lopes has said that A Filial's first tape was made using a Playstation, a karaoke set, a $10 mic, a toy that made music, and a used cassette. What recording techniques does the band use these days? Anything innovative or a little off-kilter?
BL: Well in Brazil things can always become little off-kilter. The people there have the skill to make do with many things that other people would have no idea how to utilize. From this I learned a lot. I wouldn’t say for this recording that we used anything “innovative”. I think the innovativeness lived in our endurance. I guess this is common for most independent artist like ourselves. Of course, we used the normal “Cracked” computer software, terrible mics, non-sound proof room, bounced back from being robbed multiple times of instruments at gunpoint..but hey…that’s the life of an independent artist. The other “off-kilter” recording techniques are secret…OOHH!!!
GGC: How does A Filial stand out from other Brazilian hip-hop crews?
BL: First I’d like to say there is great underground Hip-Hop in Brazil. I feel A Filial does a good job at mixing the musical traditions of Brazil with the modern sounds of today without watering down the traditional richness of the music genres we include in our sound. We also bring the hardcore Carioca swing to Hip-Hop. There can be a lot of “dark/negative” Hip Hop in Brazil as well as in the rest of the world . Sure this is just a result of the environment, but every member of A Filial has first hand experience in dealing with these same hostile environments. We try to deal with this reality in different way…different sounds, colors, and light.
GGC: What's the hip-hop scene like in Rio and how is it different from Sao Paulo?
GGC: What's the hip-hop scene like in Rio and how is it different from Sao Paulo?
BL: The Sao Paulo music scene is a more open-minded than Rio. It also has more venues for experimental bands in all genres of music. There’s more work in S.P. of course because it’s bigger and it’s the financial center of Brazil. Rio can be closed-minded at times for musicians who desire to do something other than traditional samba. But Rio has a flavor, culture and intimacy that Sao Paulo can never have. The music traditions that live in Rio give the scene a different type of edge and different type of swing.
What's the concept behind $1,99?
What's the concept behind $1,99?
BL: $1,99 refers to the $1,99 stores in Brazil which are the equivalent to the 99-cent stores in the U.S. These stores are filled with a variety of affordable items for everybody. It’s a price for the every day folk. A millionaire can shop there alongside a person who only has $1,99 to their name. The title kind of represents accessibility. But in the end it's just good music.
GGC: Tell me about Rio's Santa Teresa neighborhood, where many of the band members live if I'm not mistaken. How has it influenced the concept and sound behind $1,99?
BL: Santa Teresa is a mountain top neighborhood near the center of Rio. It has a strong bohemian vibe . Art is very alive there. Unlike in some U.S. and European trendy neighborhoods where it looks cool and artsy but the price to live is ridiculous. A Parisian friend of mine calls these neighborhoods “Bo-Bour” ( pronounced “Bo-Bo”) which means :Bohemian/Bourgeois. Santa Teresa is very authentic. You can have a mansion next to a favela but everyone uses the same bakery and same bar. I think the violence or reality that surrounds it will keep it from turning into a complete “Bo-Bour” hood…hopefully. Three of the members lived in Santa Teresa during the recording of $1,99. The rest in live in Zona Norte (northside) of Rio. This is a place where most tourist never get see. I love it up there. It has some of the warmest people in Zona Norte and some of the best musicians live there. But of course in Zona Norte lives a lot of reality.. a lot. The type of reality that makes the inner-city problems of the States look like child’s play. Santa Teresa is almost a natural barrier between The south and north zone of Rio. The south zone has its famed richer neighborhoods like Ipanema , Leblon, and so on. In Santa you are in the middle of two different worlds. Edu and I had an apartment in Equitativa, which is an old apartment complex higher in the forest of Santa Teresa right next to the favela Morro dos Prazeres, which has great Baile Funk parties by the way. We have some of the best views of the city as well. We recorded the album in our apartment along with the sounds of the complex and the forest..monkeys, tucans,cicadas, & etc. So of course, the neighborhood of Santa along with other neighborhoods of Rio has influenced the sound of the album. In the beginning of the instrumental song “Maluisa” ( which is the first song Edu & I composed together..5years ago) you can hear sounds of insects and birds. Those are the sounds we heard everyday. If you just put a mic outside the window you can capture “REAL MUSIC”…the music of nature.
GGC: Does A Filial believe that music has a role in shaping social consciousness and promoting global awareness of important issues?
BL: Yes..without a doubt. I remember watching a documentary about the great Panamanian singer Ruben Blades and him mentioning the reason why he went into music and acting. There is a great illiteracy rate growing in the world today..Latin America…Africa and with my experience teaching in the U.S. its presence is strong there as well. Some people can’t read about the issues of today. An artist of the people should always create something to move the people. Now in which direction? I don’t know…depends on the artist. Music has always been a communication tool. It can be used for awareness, education, or whatever. One thing I did learn is that you can’t be preaching when sharing info. That will turn a lot of heads away. I got dissed by a lot of 4th and 3rd graders in my short time teaching. The 7th & 8th graders loved me though. I think the same applies to everyone. So our music isn’t preachy but we have our slick way of promoting global awareness for sure.
GGC: How did Verge Records get involved with A Filial?
GGC: Tell me about Rio's Santa Teresa neighborhood, where many of the band members live if I'm not mistaken. How has it influenced the concept and sound behind $1,99?
BL: Santa Teresa is a mountain top neighborhood near the center of Rio. It has a strong bohemian vibe . Art is very alive there. Unlike in some U.S. and European trendy neighborhoods where it looks cool and artsy but the price to live is ridiculous. A Parisian friend of mine calls these neighborhoods “Bo-Bour” ( pronounced “Bo-Bo”) which means :Bohemian/Bourgeois. Santa Teresa is very authentic. You can have a mansion next to a favela but everyone uses the same bakery and same bar. I think the violence or reality that surrounds it will keep it from turning into a complete “Bo-Bour” hood…hopefully. Three of the members lived in Santa Teresa during the recording of $1,99. The rest in live in Zona Norte (northside) of Rio. This is a place where most tourist never get see. I love it up there. It has some of the warmest people in Zona Norte and some of the best musicians live there. But of course in Zona Norte lives a lot of reality.. a lot. The type of reality that makes the inner-city problems of the States look like child’s play. Santa Teresa is almost a natural barrier between The south and north zone of Rio. The south zone has its famed richer neighborhoods like Ipanema , Leblon, and so on. In Santa you are in the middle of two different worlds. Edu and I had an apartment in Equitativa, which is an old apartment complex higher in the forest of Santa Teresa right next to the favela Morro dos Prazeres, which has great Baile Funk parties by the way. We have some of the best views of the city as well. We recorded the album in our apartment along with the sounds of the complex and the forest..monkeys, tucans,cicadas, & etc. So of course, the neighborhood of Santa along with other neighborhoods of Rio has influenced the sound of the album. In the beginning of the instrumental song “Maluisa” ( which is the first song Edu & I composed together..5years ago) you can hear sounds of insects and birds. Those are the sounds we heard everyday. If you just put a mic outside the window you can capture “REAL MUSIC”…the music of nature.
GGC: Does A Filial believe that music has a role in shaping social consciousness and promoting global awareness of important issues?
BL: Yes..without a doubt. I remember watching a documentary about the great Panamanian singer Ruben Blades and him mentioning the reason why he went into music and acting. There is a great illiteracy rate growing in the world today..Latin America…Africa and with my experience teaching in the U.S. its presence is strong there as well. Some people can’t read about the issues of today. An artist of the people should always create something to move the people. Now in which direction? I don’t know…depends on the artist. Music has always been a communication tool. It can be used for awareness, education, or whatever. One thing I did learn is that you can’t be preaching when sharing info. That will turn a lot of heads away. I got dissed by a lot of 4th and 3rd graders in my short time teaching. The 7th & 8th graders loved me though. I think the same applies to everyone. So our music isn’t preachy but we have our slick way of promoting global awareness for sure.
GGC: How did Verge Records get involved with A Filial?
BL: I’m not sure of the exact details of the story. I know Emmanuel Zunz of Verge got in contact with Edu Lopes of A Filial through an artist friend of ours by then name of Felipe Motta.
GGC: Can you describe what unique ingredient each member brings to the band, including yourself?
GGC: Can you describe what unique ingredient each member brings to the band, including yourself?
BL: Edu Lopes is a great writer/lyricist. He has a unique way of playing with the Portuguese language. He is also the leader, the guy hustling to keep the project and sound of A Filial alive. He brings his knowledge of the Rio underground music/skate scene. He was also an integral part of the Hemp Family ( Marcelo D2, Bnegao,etc). Flavio 52 is the grandson of a Brazilian renaissance man and samba legend, Heitor dos Prazeres. Spending time with his family is the greatest lesson of soul, samba, and art I’ve ever received. He brings the raw samba tradition into the mix. DJ Castro is a very musical DJ, which is very hard to find. His endless will to learn brings a fresh energy to the table. He is also a big dub DJ in Brazil performing with talented artist such as Black Alien & Bnegao. Rodrigo Pacatu is very important because he brings the rich tradition of Brazilian rhythm to the mix and knows how to translate it in a modern context. His experience of playing percussion ranges from Samba, Forro, MPB, and Cuban music to Baile Funk. And last but not least the Southside boy. Well it's hard to say what I bring exactly without feeling weird. I bring another flavor of Las Americas via Alabama and the Southside of Chicago. I hope my first hand experience in searching for different sounds in various genres of music without compromise helps the sound of A Filial or any other project that I’m involved in.
Monday, October 20, 2008
The Nublu Sound Undefined
The little club recast New York as a worldly musical epicenter and now its forward-looking indie record label attempts to capture the essence of its sound in twelve tracks. It's a musical curriculum vitae like no other: eclectic, innovative, and contemporary. The disc is a collection of sonic vignettes from bands either launched by Nublu (Brazilian Girls) or wisely picked up by the imprint (Sao Paulo's 3 Na Massa) in its quest to bring the world to the East Village. Other flagship Nublu acts such as the darkly decadent duo Kudu, the Brazilian, New York-based outfit Forro In The Dark, and trip-hop band Wax Poetic are featured on the compilation as well. The record opener, a fresh cut from I Led 3 Lives' spankin' new album, is a minimalist fusion of jazz and electronic accents, while the expansive finale, "Midsummer Sun," also incorporates electronic elements but within a wide-eyed, free-jazz context courtesy of Our Theory featuring Erik Truffaz. A slice of Nublu on disc, sustained by a viral, constantly churning state of musical evolution.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Cutting-Edge Brazilian Producer Beto Villares Chats With GGC
Beto Villares is a very cool and unassuming music and soundtrack producer from SP, Brazil. He's the architect behind Grammy-nominated Brazilian siren CéU's 2007 debut and part of a web of like-minded musicians and producers behind the city's creative renaissance. In this lengthy interview, Beto talked about his own project -- just released in the U.S. by Six Degrees -- and the mundane magic that still happens in Brazil when people with instruments and good vibes get together on any street corner to play. Look out for an upcoming feature story in Global Rhythm magazine (www.globalrhythm.net). GGC:I love this album, it’s eclectic, there are so many nuances, it’s beautiful, and most of all very cutting-edge. In many ways it’s a producer’s album. How was this album born?
BV: I always wanted to do music of my own, not only for somebody else as a producer. The greatest inspiration came from Música do Brasil, which is that project I did in ’98, from ’98 to 2000, and when I traveled all around Brazil with anthropologists and a filming crew and recording equipment and we recorded over 400 tunes from all kinds of styles. I had all of my influences from working in a studio in São Paulo, which is a huge city with a lot of information, but this project opened my ears to the diversity of local things because we are very centered here in São Paulo. It’s amazing because we usually don’t know much about what goes on all around Brazil and there are so many different styles and different ways of writing and different reasons for making music. So this was kind of a topic for me, for the album. I wanted to do my music because when you go around there are so many local feasts, and celebrations where people make music and they don’t really realize they’re making music, they’re doing something for a party, for a celebration, for a religion, and if you ask them what is this music you’re playing, they’re not going to even call it music, they’re going to call it some other name. I really felt that I wanted to do my, how do you say, this was my own celebration for music. I’m not related to any style, I’m very open-minded, I have a lot of influences, I wanted to put them to use. It really maybe made it more a producer’s album because I didn't want to go inside a certain style or to close the dualistic, stylistic reference I would like to have in this album. And also after this project I came out with a lot of friends from all over Brazil, who contributed to the music somehow.
GGC:Going back to Música do Brasil was there a moment that stands out during your travels, a specific situation that was pivotal in influencing your musical formation?
BV:There were a lot of them. There were two things that really shaped me during this project. One, is what I was telling you before, we are very used to having music as something that you have to practice and then you have to work and then you have to earn your life and when you go and see people playing for other reasons which are only to have fun, and also to have a compromise with some kind of celebration, that was really moving for me. I think I have a little bit of that in everything I do now, even if it’s a soundtrack, I think I’m just doing this because I want to have fun with this. It’s my job, OK, but if it’s only that I’d rather not do it so most of the time I’m really looking to have fun and after being connected with music that’s been done I could feel that response in some places for my album, even if it’s cosmopolitan or if it’s different from any traditions, people all around are able to listen to something in it, there’s something that connects with people all around here that made me really happy. And I think the second thing that was very important for me is that usually here we have a separation of good music, commercial music, bad music. Traditional music has always been something good and to be preserved and commercial music is all very bad music and I started to learn at that point that it’s not all that bad. Of course there’s a lot of commercial music that’s only local, you know only regional, they’re never going to reach out of that region of Brazil, but it’s not only trash, so I learned to see good things in the brega music from the north in the newer modifications of the traditions and also the vision of, the notion that tradition is something that is alive so it must change to remain alive. If it doesn’t change it dies and it gets boring, it gets like a museum where it’s cold or something. So, it’s more like these concepts came to my mind. But as far as a particular place there were so many. Some of the people there were really wonderful people, and you want to be by their side because they’re living in the poorest places you can imagine but they are so happy and they’re happy not because they don’t care but because they have music, they have relationships with people around them and that makes them important. So like Dona Neusa who is from Maranhão, she is the most fantastic woman I’ve ever met. She said some funny things in the interview that had never been said. She’s so full of life, she’s so happy, and the music she does is so beautiful and it’s improvised. This is something that happens a lot in Brazil which is oral improvisation so [for instance] they have some phrases they use here and there but they’re pretty much improvising between the rhymes. But that’s not only… usually people who know something about Brazilian music relate that to the cantadores de viola, but there’s like more than 50 styles that have improvisation on their bases. Siba, who is my very close friend and his is another album I produced for Ambulante, he is very connected to maracatú and ciranda which are from Pernambuco and he’s the greatest improviser I know. I went to Dona Neusa’s home after the project was ready and I decided to go there to bring her the book and a CD as a gift. I went there and met up with her and we were walking in the city and she was just talking like she was singing because she was talking and telling me things always using rhymes and she was, I can’t remember now, but it was like magic for me, it was a magical moment. It was after the project was done I was very alone traveling and I went to bring her the book and it was an amazing moment just talking a little bit, listening to her talk about things. She’s always looking to the beautiful things. Look to the beautiful things or try to make fun of the other.
GGC:So it’s fair to say then that you are inspired by the role that music plays in people’s daily lives and the, I guess visceral connection that they have to music. It’s kind of like people’s lifeline.
BV:Yeah. Like it’s funny because in all the musical traditions people say Eu vou brincar – I’m gonna play, but play in English is tocar and brincar. But they are quite different for us. Tocar música is to play music, brincar is just to play like a kid, they say Eu vou brincar, they call themselves brincantes, which is player but in the other sense. So this is all over Brazil. People say I’m gonna brincar carnaval, I’m gonna brincar maracatú, and this playing although it’s playing, it really is the most important thing of their lives, it’s like a virtual place for their lives where they go away, so they can become kings, the woman can become a queen, they can become a clown, they can sing, they can drink, they can do a lot of things that life doesn’t allow you to do if you’re just [dealing] in reality all the time.”
GGC:Anything is possible…
BV:Yeah, it really is. That compromise is the most important thing, and there are not even words that you can put onto a CD. Of course it has changed because a lot of people record everything so this relationship starts to change. Even us in our project, we were a huge crew coming to a small place and sometimes people didn’t understand very well and they would say but am I going to be able to see this show, but in most cases they weren’t worried at all because they were very fulfilled with what they do and they’re not interested in anything else. And sometimes they become artists and promoters of artists, which is great, there are people, like the people who play with Siba whose band is called Fuloresta do Samba, they were sugar cane cortadores (cutters) until they were like 55-years-old then they became professional musicians. They already played their whole lives, maracatú, ciranda, coco, but they weren’t professional, they were getting together and playing because they do that, like I said, like a way of life. Then this new situation where they are considered musicians, they are recognized as professional musicians, they travel the whole world, they go to stages, and even if they don’t understand too much, they feel very happy and it’s something I think they never imagined.
GGC:When I listen to this album, it feels as if I’m embarking on a voyage and anything can happen. At the same time there’s an exquisite artistry at play as if the album as a whole was meticulously sculpted. There’s an almost perfect balance between spontaneity and something much more deliberate and deep. Was this something you thought out or did you just arrive there naturally?
BV:I think I don’t have what I’m doing so clear but I’m very happy to listen to it after because I don’t want to go too much inside the production, to lose the spontaneity. But also I don’t like to just do something that’s been done over and over again, even if it’s beautiful, OK somebody playing and singing it’s already beautiful that’s why I have one or two tunes in the album which are mainly that, but I think I really like to mess around with things in a way that they’re going to be happening. I start in a different way as I would if I was doing a regular pop tune, in which case I would be thinking drums, bass and keyboards. I like to think what the sounds asks me to, like a domino game, what I’m gonna do next. But I never thought so much Oh I don’t want to lose spontaneity, I think I’m lucky maybe, really because it’s just the way I do it. One thing for sure I can tell you is I don’t think you get this doing things too quickly. I think we need a little bit of time to change things, to not change things if you are in doubt, to throw things away and to let new ideas come. CéU’s album was a process, a very long process, not only because we wanted but also because nobody was paying us so I had to do a lot of other jobs and that is the same with mine. But maybe those are the best things, those things you’re not doing in a rush, you just have the opportunity to think a little bit more but also there’s a point where you should not go further or you’re gonna listen so much, you’re gonna think so much and it’s going to lose it’s spontaneity. So I think it’s a bit of luck and a bit of also, because I am worried, I want to do things with this time, with this different timing. Even when I do soundtracks, if it’s a very close director like Cao Hamburger in The Year My Parents Went On Vacation, I was doing a lot of jobs, I was coming from another film, and a record, and I have this label here which I don’t do a lot but there’s a lot of things that we did run and stuff and then I told Cao, I can’t do this soundtrack in one month and a half, we need more time. And he was like Oh, I don’t know if we have it. But later he was like all the time Thank you for saying that. So I think the same thing about albums, taking a little time. I’m doing CéU’s second album and another album this year, using the same process. We had two periods of concentration in the beginning of the year and then close to July and then we stopped again also because she had her baby. I just love working with this kind of approach in some projects, you know that might be the one thing that makes you go a little further is having a little more time.
GGC:When will CéU’s new album come out?
BV:We’re going to finalize it this November and December, maybe we’ll have to go, start a little late in December and January, and then it’s up to the labels, I don’t exactly know when it’s going to be released, but it’s going to be ready in the beginning of next year.
GGC:And it’s coming out on Six Degrees?
BV:Yes, that’s for sure.
GGC:Going back to your album. I also found that the arrangements are very unique and there are a lot of details, sonic embellishments, that I would have a hard time describing and I was wondering if you could briefly describe some of the sounds that are sampled in the album.
BV:Are you going to ask specifically?
GGC:Not off the top of my head.
BV:One thing we do a lot, and also DJ Marco is sitting right beside me, he’s a great friend and he plays in CéU’s band too, and what we do a lot with him is we record a lot of things, it can be vocals, horns, drums, anything, and then I make a mix of these instruments and give it to him and he puts it into a CD and then he puts it into like a turntable for CDs and he does all kinds of crazy things with that. Sometimes we can’t even recognize what the sound was, it came from a voice or sometimes we take something out of a friend’s album and sometimes we have produced sounds with different things like, I don’t know, a bunch of coins throwing them on the table. Sometimes if we have a lot of crazy instruments we don’t know how to play in the regular way we find our way, like a hurdy gurdy (known as a wheel fiddle). We have Mexican instruments, ukuleles, so we’ll play a melody on the ukulele instead of on the guitar and then put some effects. I record it on a very old recording machine and when I play it back it sounds out of tune -- a lot of processing so it makes even more evident the production in the sound. After that we start finding ways of doing that live, so that’s another stage, another part of the whole story. But we don’t worry about how I’m going to play that onstage, you have so much freedom. I heard producer Mario Caldato (who’s produced albums for the Beastie Boys, Seu Jorge, Bebel Gilberto, and Marcelo D2, amongst others) once say Music always wants to grow. And I understood that in my own way. If you allow it to grow, it wants to grow in a lot of directions. That’s something that really turns me on, because there’s so much music production today, professional, half-professional, amateur, and people doing a lot of things, and then sometimes you listen to a guy who’s doing something different and it’s fresh and then it makes you happy because we can’t listen to the same all over again, the same sound. That’s what I think. Also we were talking about collaborations. That’s something very important too. We’re in a very rich moment I think here in Sao Paulo. If you go back like 15 years, there weren’t so many people doing things in connection here. We had what we called Brazilian rock, Paralamas, Titãs those bands from Rio and from São Paulo, some bands from other places, but those people weren’t connected and I think what’s happened is that people from Pernambuco started coming to São Paulo, and other people came like Catatau from Cidadão Instigado (a band from Ceará in the northeast of Brazil), and then people from Instituto were kids fifteen years ago and they became men and started making music with their influence which is already different from mine. And I think that created a scene which is very happy, which is happy in the sense that it’s happening, people are friends, they’re collaborating in a way that we saw in Pernambuco, we can say that it’s really true here, we can see a little bit of Catatau in CéU’s work, you can hear CéU on Instituto, you can hear my contributions in rap albums, so it’s an alternative scene, it’s not mainstream, what I’m talking about is people making interesting music who are connected to each other, in most cases contributing with friends. That makes me think well maybe Rica [Amabis] could do something here that’s different. And even Gui, Gui works with us all the time.
GGC:Yes, I interviewed him [Gui Amabis] not too long ago and we talked a lot about that, the scene in São Paulo with the collaborations from musicians from Pernambuco how it’s very rooted in friendship.
BV:Yeah it’s so great.
GGC:Was it surprising for you that CéU had such global success with her debut?
BV:Yes. It was a big surprise for me because, I think because of everything we talked about. I’m not doing the regular pop music, rock, or not the regular Brazilian music. And I couldn’t imagine, I know her potential, I know she’s great as a composer and as a singer and everything, but I don’t trust too much this kind of thing and also because the whole record business is going so downward, I was really not expecting it. But I think it grew into a size that is very good, it’s not huge but it’s good for her and it’s good for me, it’s good for everybody I think. She’s very happy with the way things turned out.
GGC:How did you get your start in music, did you first start out composing for television or film or did you first start out as a record producer?
BV:I went to music school in the university and then before completing that I went to the United States. I wanted to practice more guitar, I stayed one year in Los Angeles and then I came back and I realized I wouldn’t be a great guitarist or something like I imagined before. I started to realize that I really liked to compose and then I started working in a studio that made music advertisements for movies, that’s when I met Antonio [Pinto] and we worked a lot. I wasn’t very happy because it was like working fifteen hours a day in advertising but it was a huge learning process for me in a studio, working with techniques and building relationships on the job so it was like a university. And then, again I think I’m the luckiest guy in the world, I got out of this studio world and went on this trip and worked on this project for three years, the whole process of traveling and recording and then after taking a break from this project I had to take some time to come back and do what came out as being my album.
GGC:How does growing up and living in such a schizophrenic city shape your artistic vision?
BV:It’s funny we have this pollution, we have this noise, we have this criminality, everything here is tension, but I can’t imagine living anywhere else. São Paulo is a huge city and like most huge cities there are nice parts, ugly parts, there are parts where you don’t want to go at all, but as a kid I had a very good life here. I don’t know if my two boys are going to have the same life but I could go all around skating, riding bicycles during the day, walk around, I think that changed a little bit… São Paulo has it all here. And I see also people who live in very hard places, very poor places, but they love it here because you have so much culture and they live for that. That’s the way the hip-hop culture works here. It’s a way of having cultural exchanges. And São Paulo has it. It’s a lot of things. It’s hard, it’s aggressive, it’s noisy, but people from here when they go out to smaller places they [realize] they need this mess here, like if this mess is what moves on, moves our heads, moves our ideas. Would I be able to live somewhere else, to have a healthier life? I don’t know. Especially now when we have so many musicians from everywhere here, if I want to record with Cuban musicians I have some close friends who play real well. Of course it’s not the same thing as being closest to Cuba but we have them. Japanese, yes we have them, Italian also, all kinds of Brazilian music, samba, music from the northeast, maracatú, so it’s very anthropophagic.
GGC:What do mean when you say that Brazil is like a bastard culture and how does that translate into the musical landscape?
BV:People mix things and they don’t think about it. So if you go the Amazon you’re going to see indigenous people talking their language and dancing to electronic music. So it’s that irresponsibility of saying OK I like this and I like that and let’s put them together and make music with it. And we hear a lot of that in our history even before tropicalia our culture has to do with that. So you think you see a tradition that came from Portugal, that maybe came from Portugal like Bumba Meu Boi mixed with congada which is African, from a Congo celebration, which itself was already an imitation of the Portuguese chords in Africa and then you mix that with an African religion, that’s no longer the original African religion because Africans came all mixed from different places, they didn’t have their original knowledge or culture but they created another one. We had this already mixed culture that would mix with white when the landlord’s daughter would like to go to the senzala (slave quarters) and listen to the music. That’s the way we created our music, by mixing things with irresponsibility, that’s what I feel. And it’s happening all over Brazilian cities. Techno Brega parties now a days are not the same thing, it’s not traditional. But it has the same flavor. People doing this take brega tunes, which are like pretty much like jovem guarda tunes we had, and then they speed it up in an awful way, but they like it, it makes them feel they are a little bit American or something. And then you see the old guys from other traditions, which you would imagine because they play old samba that they wouldn’t like these new things and you talk to them and they say No, that’s great, that’s people having fun. So I think it’s a very interesting country if you want to look at it without preconceitos [prejudice].
BV: I always wanted to do music of my own, not only for somebody else as a producer. The greatest inspiration came from Música do Brasil, which is that project I did in ’98, from ’98 to 2000, and when I traveled all around Brazil with anthropologists and a filming crew and recording equipment and we recorded over 400 tunes from all kinds of styles. I had all of my influences from working in a studio in São Paulo, which is a huge city with a lot of information, but this project opened my ears to the diversity of local things because we are very centered here in São Paulo. It’s amazing because we usually don’t know much about what goes on all around Brazil and there are so many different styles and different ways of writing and different reasons for making music. So this was kind of a topic for me, for the album. I wanted to do my music because when you go around there are so many local feasts, and celebrations where people make music and they don’t really realize they’re making music, they’re doing something for a party, for a celebration, for a religion, and if you ask them what is this music you’re playing, they’re not going to even call it music, they’re going to call it some other name. I really felt that I wanted to do my, how do you say, this was my own celebration for music. I’m not related to any style, I’m very open-minded, I have a lot of influences, I wanted to put them to use. It really maybe made it more a producer’s album because I didn't want to go inside a certain style or to close the dualistic, stylistic reference I would like to have in this album. And also after this project I came out with a lot of friends from all over Brazil, who contributed to the music somehow.
GGC:Going back to Música do Brasil was there a moment that stands out during your travels, a specific situation that was pivotal in influencing your musical formation?
BV:There were a lot of them. There were two things that really shaped me during this project. One, is what I was telling you before, we are very used to having music as something that you have to practice and then you have to work and then you have to earn your life and when you go and see people playing for other reasons which are only to have fun, and also to have a compromise with some kind of celebration, that was really moving for me. I think I have a little bit of that in everything I do now, even if it’s a soundtrack, I think I’m just doing this because I want to have fun with this. It’s my job, OK, but if it’s only that I’d rather not do it so most of the time I’m really looking to have fun and after being connected with music that’s been done I could feel that response in some places for my album, even if it’s cosmopolitan or if it’s different from any traditions, people all around are able to listen to something in it, there’s something that connects with people all around here that made me really happy. And I think the second thing that was very important for me is that usually here we have a separation of good music, commercial music, bad music. Traditional music has always been something good and to be preserved and commercial music is all very bad music and I started to learn at that point that it’s not all that bad. Of course there’s a lot of commercial music that’s only local, you know only regional, they’re never going to reach out of that region of Brazil, but it’s not only trash, so I learned to see good things in the brega music from the north in the newer modifications of the traditions and also the vision of, the notion that tradition is something that is alive so it must change to remain alive. If it doesn’t change it dies and it gets boring, it gets like a museum where it’s cold or something. So, it’s more like these concepts came to my mind. But as far as a particular place there were so many. Some of the people there were really wonderful people, and you want to be by their side because they’re living in the poorest places you can imagine but they are so happy and they’re happy not because they don’t care but because they have music, they have relationships with people around them and that makes them important. So like Dona Neusa who is from Maranhão, she is the most fantastic woman I’ve ever met. She said some funny things in the interview that had never been said. She’s so full of life, she’s so happy, and the music she does is so beautiful and it’s improvised. This is something that happens a lot in Brazil which is oral improvisation so [for instance] they have some phrases they use here and there but they’re pretty much improvising between the rhymes. But that’s not only… usually people who know something about Brazilian music relate that to the cantadores de viola, but there’s like more than 50 styles that have improvisation on their bases. Siba, who is my very close friend and his is another album I produced for Ambulante, he is very connected to maracatú and ciranda which are from Pernambuco and he’s the greatest improviser I know. I went to Dona Neusa’s home after the project was ready and I decided to go there to bring her the book and a CD as a gift. I went there and met up with her and we were walking in the city and she was just talking like she was singing because she was talking and telling me things always using rhymes and she was, I can’t remember now, but it was like magic for me, it was a magical moment. It was after the project was done I was very alone traveling and I went to bring her the book and it was an amazing moment just talking a little bit, listening to her talk about things. She’s always looking to the beautiful things. Look to the beautiful things or try to make fun of the other.
GGC:So it’s fair to say then that you are inspired by the role that music plays in people’s daily lives and the, I guess visceral connection that they have to music. It’s kind of like people’s lifeline.
BV:Yeah. Like it’s funny because in all the musical traditions people say Eu vou brincar – I’m gonna play, but play in English is tocar and brincar. But they are quite different for us. Tocar música is to play music, brincar is just to play like a kid, they say Eu vou brincar, they call themselves brincantes, which is player but in the other sense. So this is all over Brazil. People say I’m gonna brincar carnaval, I’m gonna brincar maracatú, and this playing although it’s playing, it really is the most important thing of their lives, it’s like a virtual place for their lives where they go away, so they can become kings, the woman can become a queen, they can become a clown, they can sing, they can drink, they can do a lot of things that life doesn’t allow you to do if you’re just [dealing] in reality all the time.”
GGC:Anything is possible…
BV:Yeah, it really is. That compromise is the most important thing, and there are not even words that you can put onto a CD. Of course it has changed because a lot of people record everything so this relationship starts to change. Even us in our project, we were a huge crew coming to a small place and sometimes people didn’t understand very well and they would say but am I going to be able to see this show, but in most cases they weren’t worried at all because they were very fulfilled with what they do and they’re not interested in anything else. And sometimes they become artists and promoters of artists, which is great, there are people, like the people who play with Siba whose band is called Fuloresta do Samba, they were sugar cane cortadores (cutters) until they were like 55-years-old then they became professional musicians. They already played their whole lives, maracatú, ciranda, coco, but they weren’t professional, they were getting together and playing because they do that, like I said, like a way of life. Then this new situation where they are considered musicians, they are recognized as professional musicians, they travel the whole world, they go to stages, and even if they don’t understand too much, they feel very happy and it’s something I think they never imagined.
GGC:When I listen to this album, it feels as if I’m embarking on a voyage and anything can happen. At the same time there’s an exquisite artistry at play as if the album as a whole was meticulously sculpted. There’s an almost perfect balance between spontaneity and something much more deliberate and deep. Was this something you thought out or did you just arrive there naturally?
BV:I think I don’t have what I’m doing so clear but I’m very happy to listen to it after because I don’t want to go too much inside the production, to lose the spontaneity. But also I don’t like to just do something that’s been done over and over again, even if it’s beautiful, OK somebody playing and singing it’s already beautiful that’s why I have one or two tunes in the album which are mainly that, but I think I really like to mess around with things in a way that they’re going to be happening. I start in a different way as I would if I was doing a regular pop tune, in which case I would be thinking drums, bass and keyboards. I like to think what the sounds asks me to, like a domino game, what I’m gonna do next. But I never thought so much Oh I don’t want to lose spontaneity, I think I’m lucky maybe, really because it’s just the way I do it. One thing for sure I can tell you is I don’t think you get this doing things too quickly. I think we need a little bit of time to change things, to not change things if you are in doubt, to throw things away and to let new ideas come. CéU’s album was a process, a very long process, not only because we wanted but also because nobody was paying us so I had to do a lot of other jobs and that is the same with mine. But maybe those are the best things, those things you’re not doing in a rush, you just have the opportunity to think a little bit more but also there’s a point where you should not go further or you’re gonna listen so much, you’re gonna think so much and it’s going to lose it’s spontaneity. So I think it’s a bit of luck and a bit of also, because I am worried, I want to do things with this time, with this different timing. Even when I do soundtracks, if it’s a very close director like Cao Hamburger in The Year My Parents Went On Vacation, I was doing a lot of jobs, I was coming from another film, and a record, and I have this label here which I don’t do a lot but there’s a lot of things that we did run and stuff and then I told Cao, I can’t do this soundtrack in one month and a half, we need more time. And he was like Oh, I don’t know if we have it. But later he was like all the time Thank you for saying that. So I think the same thing about albums, taking a little time. I’m doing CéU’s second album and another album this year, using the same process. We had two periods of concentration in the beginning of the year and then close to July and then we stopped again also because she had her baby. I just love working with this kind of approach in some projects, you know that might be the one thing that makes you go a little further is having a little more time.
GGC:When will CéU’s new album come out?
BV:We’re going to finalize it this November and December, maybe we’ll have to go, start a little late in December and January, and then it’s up to the labels, I don’t exactly know when it’s going to be released, but it’s going to be ready in the beginning of next year.
GGC:And it’s coming out on Six Degrees?
BV:Yes, that’s for sure.
GGC:Going back to your album. I also found that the arrangements are very unique and there are a lot of details, sonic embellishments, that I would have a hard time describing and I was wondering if you could briefly describe some of the sounds that are sampled in the album.
BV:Are you going to ask specifically?
GGC:Not off the top of my head.
BV:One thing we do a lot, and also DJ Marco is sitting right beside me, he’s a great friend and he plays in CéU’s band too, and what we do a lot with him is we record a lot of things, it can be vocals, horns, drums, anything, and then I make a mix of these instruments and give it to him and he puts it into a CD and then he puts it into like a turntable for CDs and he does all kinds of crazy things with that. Sometimes we can’t even recognize what the sound was, it came from a voice or sometimes we take something out of a friend’s album and sometimes we have produced sounds with different things like, I don’t know, a bunch of coins throwing them on the table. Sometimes if we have a lot of crazy instruments we don’t know how to play in the regular way we find our way, like a hurdy gurdy (known as a wheel fiddle). We have Mexican instruments, ukuleles, so we’ll play a melody on the ukulele instead of on the guitar and then put some effects. I record it on a very old recording machine and when I play it back it sounds out of tune -- a lot of processing so it makes even more evident the production in the sound. After that we start finding ways of doing that live, so that’s another stage, another part of the whole story. But we don’t worry about how I’m going to play that onstage, you have so much freedom. I heard producer Mario Caldato (who’s produced albums for the Beastie Boys, Seu Jorge, Bebel Gilberto, and Marcelo D2, amongst others) once say Music always wants to grow. And I understood that in my own way. If you allow it to grow, it wants to grow in a lot of directions. That’s something that really turns me on, because there’s so much music production today, professional, half-professional, amateur, and people doing a lot of things, and then sometimes you listen to a guy who’s doing something different and it’s fresh and then it makes you happy because we can’t listen to the same all over again, the same sound. That’s what I think. Also we were talking about collaborations. That’s something very important too. We’re in a very rich moment I think here in Sao Paulo. If you go back like 15 years, there weren’t so many people doing things in connection here. We had what we called Brazilian rock, Paralamas, Titãs those bands from Rio and from São Paulo, some bands from other places, but those people weren’t connected and I think what’s happened is that people from Pernambuco started coming to São Paulo, and other people came like Catatau from Cidadão Instigado (a band from Ceará in the northeast of Brazil), and then people from Instituto were kids fifteen years ago and they became men and started making music with their influence which is already different from mine. And I think that created a scene which is very happy, which is happy in the sense that it’s happening, people are friends, they’re collaborating in a way that we saw in Pernambuco, we can say that it’s really true here, we can see a little bit of Catatau in CéU’s work, you can hear CéU on Instituto, you can hear my contributions in rap albums, so it’s an alternative scene, it’s not mainstream, what I’m talking about is people making interesting music who are connected to each other, in most cases contributing with friends. That makes me think well maybe Rica [Amabis] could do something here that’s different. And even Gui, Gui works with us all the time.
GGC:Yes, I interviewed him [Gui Amabis] not too long ago and we talked a lot about that, the scene in São Paulo with the collaborations from musicians from Pernambuco how it’s very rooted in friendship.
BV:Yeah it’s so great.
GGC:Was it surprising for you that CéU had such global success with her debut?
BV:Yes. It was a big surprise for me because, I think because of everything we talked about. I’m not doing the regular pop music, rock, or not the regular Brazilian music. And I couldn’t imagine, I know her potential, I know she’s great as a composer and as a singer and everything, but I don’t trust too much this kind of thing and also because the whole record business is going so downward, I was really not expecting it. But I think it grew into a size that is very good, it’s not huge but it’s good for her and it’s good for me, it’s good for everybody I think. She’s very happy with the way things turned out.
GGC:How did you get your start in music, did you first start out composing for television or film or did you first start out as a record producer?
BV:I went to music school in the university and then before completing that I went to the United States. I wanted to practice more guitar, I stayed one year in Los Angeles and then I came back and I realized I wouldn’t be a great guitarist or something like I imagined before. I started to realize that I really liked to compose and then I started working in a studio that made music advertisements for movies, that’s when I met Antonio [Pinto] and we worked a lot. I wasn’t very happy because it was like working fifteen hours a day in advertising but it was a huge learning process for me in a studio, working with techniques and building relationships on the job so it was like a university. And then, again I think I’m the luckiest guy in the world, I got out of this studio world and went on this trip and worked on this project for three years, the whole process of traveling and recording and then after taking a break from this project I had to take some time to come back and do what came out as being my album.
GGC:How does growing up and living in such a schizophrenic city shape your artistic vision?
BV:It’s funny we have this pollution, we have this noise, we have this criminality, everything here is tension, but I can’t imagine living anywhere else. São Paulo is a huge city and like most huge cities there are nice parts, ugly parts, there are parts where you don’t want to go at all, but as a kid I had a very good life here. I don’t know if my two boys are going to have the same life but I could go all around skating, riding bicycles during the day, walk around, I think that changed a little bit… São Paulo has it all here. And I see also people who live in very hard places, very poor places, but they love it here because you have so much culture and they live for that. That’s the way the hip-hop culture works here. It’s a way of having cultural exchanges. And São Paulo has it. It’s a lot of things. It’s hard, it’s aggressive, it’s noisy, but people from here when they go out to smaller places they [realize] they need this mess here, like if this mess is what moves on, moves our heads, moves our ideas. Would I be able to live somewhere else, to have a healthier life? I don’t know. Especially now when we have so many musicians from everywhere here, if I want to record with Cuban musicians I have some close friends who play real well. Of course it’s not the same thing as being closest to Cuba but we have them. Japanese, yes we have them, Italian also, all kinds of Brazilian music, samba, music from the northeast, maracatú, so it’s very anthropophagic.
GGC:What do mean when you say that Brazil is like a bastard culture and how does that translate into the musical landscape?
BV:People mix things and they don’t think about it. So if you go the Amazon you’re going to see indigenous people talking their language and dancing to electronic music. So it’s that irresponsibility of saying OK I like this and I like that and let’s put them together and make music with it. And we hear a lot of that in our history even before tropicalia our culture has to do with that. So you think you see a tradition that came from Portugal, that maybe came from Portugal like Bumba Meu Boi mixed with congada which is African, from a Congo celebration, which itself was already an imitation of the Portuguese chords in Africa and then you mix that with an African religion, that’s no longer the original African religion because Africans came all mixed from different places, they didn’t have their original knowledge or culture but they created another one. We had this already mixed culture that would mix with white when the landlord’s daughter would like to go to the senzala (slave quarters) and listen to the music. That’s the way we created our music, by mixing things with irresponsibility, that’s what I feel. And it’s happening all over Brazilian cities. Techno Brega parties now a days are not the same thing, it’s not traditional. But it has the same flavor. People doing this take brega tunes, which are like pretty much like jovem guarda tunes we had, and then they speed it up in an awful way, but they like it, it makes them feel they are a little bit American or something. And then you see the old guys from other traditions, which you would imagine because they play old samba that they wouldn’t like these new things and you talk to them and they say No, that’s great, that’s people having fun. So I think it’s a very interesting country if you want to look at it without preconceitos [prejudice].
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Six Degrees Records and Batanga Compile the Ultimate Soundtrack To Hispanic Heritage Month
Six Degrees Records and Batanga.com celebrate Hispanic heritage month with the “Batanga Hispanic Heritage Sampler,” exclusively for free on iTunes (www.itunes.com/batanga) until October 21st. The one month long promotion serves to highlight Latin music in the U.S., featuring ten songs from Six Degrees Records’ Latin/Brazilian roster including the GRAMMY recognized Spanish Harlem Orchestra, CéU, Ojos de Brujo and fast-rising newcomers Pacifika and Beto Villares amongst others. Batanga, Inc., the leading next-generation Hispanic media company reaching U.S. Hispanics across multiple platforms has dedicated an editorial page (www.batanga.com/freesampler) to provide visitors a place to learn more about each artist featured on the sampler including photos, biographies, song previews and more.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Taj Mahal Globalizes The Blues
Bluesmen are born resilient and it's no different with Taj Mahal. What makes him stray off the beaten path is a kind of meandering curiosity that's added refreshing versatility and allowed him to steer clear of musical constraints. One of the most influential American blues artists of the past half-century, the two-time Grammy winner has always had a panoramic approach to music making, over the years drawing on sounds and styles that resulted in a string of adventurous recordings in the 70s, a children's album in the early 90s, and multicultural excursions later that same decade, including a collaboration with Indian classical musicians, a cross-pollination of Hawaiian music and blues, and a meeting of the minds with Malian kora player Toumani Diabate. Taj may be high-minded but his output has always been more soulful than cerebral. The same can be said about Maestro, Taj's first album in the U.S. in five years and his first international debut on Heads Up. The newly released disc showcases the master's all-inclusive philosophy and gift for bringing other genres and artists of diverse styles into the fold of American roots music. Latin rockers Los Lobos back Taj on a few tracks, most notably on the boozy, rollicking "TV Mama," a tune written by Willie Turner and delivered here in a style reminiscent of seminal electric blues axman Elmore James. Ben Harper joins in on vocals on the raw and gritty "Dust Me Down," and surfer turned singer/songwriter Jack Johnson takes a cue from Taj's well-known "Further On Down the Road." Ziggy Marley also gets in on the action accompanied by his six-piece band and infusing some island vibe on "Black Man, Brown Man." Taj and Beninese songstress Angelique Kidjo share writing credits on "Zanzibar," a lilting African ballad on which she sings and which also features the sublime artistry of Diabate on the kora. Taj's global perspective is informed by many currents, but he goes back to basics reviving his roots by paying tribute to the likes of Ottis Redding on "Scratch My Back," Fats Domino on "Hello Josephine," and by doing what he does best with roadhouse swagger on "Diddy Wah Diddy," a Wille Dixon/Bo Diddley classic. It's the blues according to Taj Mahal.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Milton Nascimento and The Jobim Trio Pay Tribute to Bossa Nova
Legendary Brazilian singer Milton Nascimento, one of the world's great voices and an iconic figure since the 60s with roots in the Clube da Esquina scene in Minas Gerais, has joined forces with the Jobim Trio to celebrate the 50th anniversary of bossa nova in Miami. The Jobim Trio is led by Paulo and Daniel Jobim, son and grandson of composer Antonio Carlos Jobim, along with drummer Paulo Braga. Nascimento's divine voice and the Trio's sublime arrangements pay tribute to the rhythm of Brazil and remember the great compositions of the bossa nova master.This is the US debut for this ensemble, touring in support of the beautiful new CD Novas Bossas, (Blue Note Records 2008).
Milton Nascimento + Jobim Trio in concert
Saturday October 4th, 8 pm
Adrienne Arsht Center for Performing Arts
Knight Concert Hall, 1300 Biscayne Blvd, Miami
Tickets through http://rs6.net/tn.jsp?e=001ldmkf7mO02fUg14s8XEzjMgBa8agN-YN5dC8gRI4HJ1z8jQReuGhtJkwRJHT1_8_Zt6gwah-9BFvdY3qH1CVSSrxX2Tf7DVdsTOCnL5SXpNYQkvysxIGYb5K-J6MGfp1o924tLWzROttmGKSduJ2tA_2hsVmb_7M3cn43032viB_ciy43rBq8DQl5cEGTl2oglqaK14xhq8= or (305) 949-6722 or the Arsht Center box office.
Rhythm Foundation members, call the office at (305) 672-5202 for direct ticketing.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
A Night of Poetry and Music
FUNDarte and The Centro Cultural Español present ALFONSINA: A FLAMENCO FILIN CONCERT
Gema Corredera sings Alfonsina Storni poems. Original Music by Flamenco Master and Guitarist Jose Luis Rodriguez. Alfonsina, La Mujer en el Mar is a flamenco-filin concert based on the work of recognized Argentinean poet, Alfonsina Storni, that grapples with the most basic human emotions of love and loss. Storni was an artist characterized by her constant search for freedom and a preoccupation with following her own path without being burdened by the established norms. As such, the story is told through an innovative blend of musical styles using some of her best known poems set to original compositions by flamenco master and guitarist Jose Luis Rodriguez. The program will feature renowned Cuban singer Gema Corredera, of the duo Gema y Pavel, and cuban musician Carlos Puig-Hatem.
Date & Time September 18, 2008 @ 8:00 p.m.
Tickets Prices:$20 General Admission$15 Students and SeniorsGroups rate available (10 people or more)$5 for Centro Cultural Español members
Location: Manuel Artime Theater900 SW 1st Street, Miami
Tickets Prices:$20 General Admission$15 Students and SeniorsGroups rate available (10 people or more)$5 for Centro Cultural Español members
Location: Manuel Artime Theater900 SW 1st Street, Miami
Visit www.fundarte.us for more information on ticket purchases
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Arturo O'Farrill and Claudia Acuña Venture Outside the Expected Margins
Arturo O'Farrill is a renowned cross-pollinator who's constantly blurring the line between jazz and Latin music. Here he teams up with the wonderfully eclectic vocalist Claudia Acuña who is just as adept at navigating multiple streams with masterful fluidity. The project materialized after O'Farrill and Acuña decided to collaborate for the pure fun of it, a simple philosophy that shines through the album's twelve tracks. Together, the arranger/pianist/composer and the Chilean chanteuse interpret an unconventional repertoire and exude the kind of unbridled joy that can only come from a partnership rooted in friendship and mutual admiration. From the coquettish title track opener, "In These Shoes" to the Afro-Cuban closer "La Piye" the only commonality shared is a free-reign insouciance that makes the album whole. Cuts such as Brazilian roots rocker Lenine's "Paciencia," and Van Morrison's "Moondance," are just some of the protean offerings to set a new standard in the continuously expanding and melding jazz universe. Cuban drummer Dafnis Prieto's "Vida Sin Miel" has a quirky, impish vibe punctuated by eerie guitar stabs courtesy of Adam Rogers and "Willow Weep for Me," a jazz standard recorded by all the great performers of our time, is given off-center treatment as a funkified Cha Cha Cha with percolating rhythmic changes and exhilarating solos from O'Farrill on piano and Yosvany Terry on sax. Once again O'Farrill and his musical acolytes have carved out a new space outside the boundaries and it sounds like a future unbound by sonic borders.
Maraca Is Back With a New Album and a U.S. Tour
Cuba's ‘MARACA’ is back with Lo Que Quiero Es Fiesta (Ahi-Nama Music). After a few years away from the studio and extensive touring around the world, Cuban flutist and bandleader Orlando Valle ‘Maraca’ delivers his sixth recording, a high energy album of dance music grounded on tradition but influenced by current trends. The release is followed by a U.S. tour which includes two appearances at the Monterey Jazz Festival for a special performance with an all-star band featuring Giovanni Hidalgo (Congas), David Sanchez (Sax), Miguel Zenon (Sax), Ed Simon (Piano), Murray Low (Keyboards), John Benitez (Bass), and Horacio “El Negro" Hernandez (Drums), along with the strings section of the Monterey Orchestra. Maraca returns with a revitalized sound and a new collective of young musicians. Considered one of the most popular names in Latin and Afro-Cuban Music, from salsa to Latin jazz, Maraca's music is a cocktail of fusion and energy that stems from the most jazziest improvisations to the most danceable elements of Caribbean and popular Cuban music. A CD release party will be held at NYC's S.O.B.'s on October 1st.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Beto Villares Takes The Plunge
Brazilian producer Beto Villares' self-titled debut stands out as the best album I've heard so far this year. Not surprising for someone whose credentials range from composing film scores to producing multi-platinum selling recording artists. Most notably Villares is recognized for his contemporary global stylings on Brazilian chanteuse CéU's Grammy-nominated breakthrough --one of the biggest selling international records of 2007. Stepping out with his own project Villares presents a microcosm of Brazil's rich, musical landscape. Paying homage to the musical legacy of a country such as his is always a grand aspiration, but the Sao Paulo native does so from a unique perspective, infusing a new dynamic that's nothing short of sublime. The 16-track sonic voyage soaks up Brazil’s diversity into the fold of other global influences. The result reflects the magical tapestry of Villares' musical DNA. Delicate bossa novas are subtly embellished with overdubbed voices hovering in the background, eerily meandering synthesizers, and layers of percussion. Rapping in Portuguese collides with percolating rhythms, Latin funk grooves, and crypto-reggae beats. And sambas combine with old-world arrangements within looping beats. Villares' lush musings seamlessly flow in a mapped out universe of his creation and the sounds emanating are close to cosmic.
Friday, August 29, 2008
Gorki Is FREE!!!!!
In a trial held today in Havana Gorki Aguila's charge was dropped from "dangerousness" to "disobedience," he was slapped with a fine of 600 Cuban pesos, and then released. Last night during an outdoor concert headlined by Pablo Milanes near the Havana seawall, right across from the U.S. Interest Section, the remaining members of the band and friends of the detained singer began chanting his name and waiving a sign that called for his release. As reported by Generation Y blogger Yoani Sanchez, who was also protesting at the show, police immediately swooped in, began beating them, detained several concert goers, and held them overnight, including at least one of the band's members. Sanchez noticed a camera crew from the BBC and TV Española at the concert and has stated that she believes Gorki's release is in large part due to mounting international pressure.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Punk Rocker Gorki Aguila Arrested In Cuba
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Cuba Underground and CNN report that Gorki Luis Aguila Carrasco, lead singer of Cuba's most defiantly outspoken punk outfit Porno Para Ricardo was detained in his home Monday morning. According to his father, he is being held by the Cuban government until Thursday when he faces a sentence of one to four years for an obscure charge in Cuba known as "dangerousness" which supposes the possibility of a criminal act that has yet to be committed. Under Cuba's penal code, habitual drunkenness and anti-social behavior are signs of a "state of dangerousness." The arrest came as Aguila was about to record the final songs of the band's next record, according to a statement on the band's Web site.
"This new episode of harassment and persecution is occurring just as Porno para Ricardo is in the middle of recording its new record, which eliminates any possibility that this repressive escalation could be described as a 'coincidence,' " the statement said. "In Cuba, the voice of the brave is silenced by the regime, which doesn't hesitate to use intimidation and force."
This is not the first time Aguila has been locked up for his anti-revolutionary vitriol in songs that explicitly criticize the Castro regime. He was arrested in 2003 and sentenced to two years on trumped up drug charges. His release came after Freemuse, an international organization advocating freedom of expression for musicians and composers living in oppressive political systems, intervened on the Cuban rocker's behalf. Since his release Aguila had been repeatedly harassed, threatened, and was briefly detained last year. His only crime, one for which he's willing to face the music, no pun intended, is having the balls to call a communist dictatorship by its name.
Songs such as "Comunista de la Gran Escena," "Ratas Dirigentes," and "El Comandante," are full of schoolboy zeal and a biting sense of humor, combined with an imploding, angst-driven thrashing that borders on insanity. The four members of Porno Para Ricardo had continued to undermine authority, recording music in a makeshift studio and performing underground just hours after announcing their shows through word of mouth. In true D.I.Y. fashion, the foursome has released five full-length albums under Aguila's own label La Paja Records. They are distributed like contraband and sold on the Internet with the help of a friend outside the country. Now Aguila is paying the price for having conspicuously strayed from the party line in true punk style and for assuming that rockin' in a free world is a universal right.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Dorival Caymmi Dead At 94
Dorival Caymmi, a pillar of Brazilian popular music, died Saturday at his home in Rio de Janiero. The cause was multiple organ failure. Caymmi was 94. His storied career spanning 60 years and some 20 albums, Caymmi's romantic, sun-drenched, rhythmic style was the prelude to the emergence of bossa nova in the fifites. At 16, he wrote Carmen Miranda's first hit “O Que É Que a Baiana Tem?” (“What Is It About Brazilian Women?”). Songs like “Marina” (1944) and “O Samba da Minha Terra” (1941) inspired the greats of bossa nova. Writing in The New York Times in 2001, music critic Ben Ratliff said Caymmi was perhaps second only to Antonio Carlos Jobim “in establishing a songbook of this century’s Brazilian identity.” Dorival Caymmi was born on April 30, 1914, in Salvador, the capital of Bahia state. A journalist by profession, Caymmi won a songwriting contest in 1936 as part of Salvador’s carnaval and two years later went to Rio de Janeiro to study law. Instead he went into the music business. He became a regular on Radio Nacional, and his fame grew through his early collaborations with Miranda. Caymmi recorded for five decades, both singing solo with his own guitar accompaniment and velvety baritone and backed by bands and orchestras. His last album was released four years ago.
Caymmi is survived by his wife of nearly 70 years, singer Adelaide Tostes, who used the stage name Stella Maris, along with their sons, Dori and Danilo, and their daughter, Nana, who are all also successful musicians.
Friday, August 15, 2008
Vicky Cristina Barcelona, The Soundtrack
Chance encounters, carnal pleasures, and the fine line between love and desire are strands that run through the storyline of Woody Allen's new film "Vicky Cristina Barcelona," a worldly romantic comedy that stars Javier Bardem, Penélope Cruz and Scarlett Johansson, set against the magnificent backdrop of the boundless city of Barcelona. There's no place in the world like it. The soundtrack fits the film like a glove. It's wonderfully eclectic, fresh, and cosmopolitan, with just enough brooding darkness below the surface to keep you on edge. Those moments coincide with Cruz's character, the untamed and quick-witted, suicidal/homicidal ex-wife of Bardem's Juan Antonio. The soundtrack even comes with a storyline of its own, one which has created buzz around a little-known indie band that formed in Barcelona, also quite by accident, and whose song fell into Allen's hands on a whim, only to become the score's main track. Giulia y los Tellarini's song "Barcelona," is a bouncy, harmonica-laden tune that's eerily seductive. Intoned by Giulia Tellarini's off-kilter, whispery vocals, the song reflects her on-and-off relationship with the city, written at a time when she was deciding between staying in Barcelona or returning to Paris. The soundtrack also includes another of the band's songs "La Ley del Retiro." Then there are the beautifully rendered instrumental guitar pieces. Guitarist Juan Serrano, whose reputation as a flamenco virtuoso spans six decades delivers the churning "Gorrión" early in the set, followed much later by the equally mesmerizing closer, "Entre Olas." Paco de Lucia's "Entre Dos Aguas" offers a sultry guitar/percussion arrangement driven by a plunging bassline that goads the transition from glowing embers into a fiery rumba. The Biel Ballester Trio oscillates from infectiously shuffling rhythms on "When I Was a Boy" to melodic artistry on "Your Shining Eyes."
Friday, August 8, 2008
Donny McCaslin's Trio For The Ages On His "Recommended Tools"
Saxophonist Donny McCaslin is a well-versed jazzman who isn't afraid to partake in some stylistic somersaults in the kind of experimentalism that leads to that far out place that shimmers just beyond the horizon. On his latest recording, Recommended Tools (Greenleaf Music), McCaslin chooses a trio formation for the first time and delivers a dynamic set that really is, as the press release boasts, reminiscent of the classic trios of Sonny Rollins and Joe Henderson. At times rambunctious, other times laid back and cool, McCaslin's distinct tenor is always conversational no matter what the context and there's great chemistry in the room. Jonathan Blake's drum work is snappy -- crisp rolls and precise interplay -- while the bass adds depth in the hands of Hans Glawischnig. There are great improvisational solos that seem to build and expand in every direction to then naturally flow back in sync with the rest of the band. This is one of those great rummaging, probing, jazz albums that has all the makings of a timeless affair.
Monday, August 4, 2008
After Years of Performing In Bars Miami's Locos Por Juana Finally Makes A Grand Entrance
FUNDarte presents Locos Por Juana on Friday, August 22 at 9:00 p.m. in Little Havana’s Manuel Artime Theater. For the first time the Grammy nominated, Latin urban fusion outfit will perform a large-venue concert in Miami for their home-town audience. The show comes on the heels of the band's new full-length, La Verdad (Machete Music/Universal). After nine years of performing almost exclusively in Miami's club circuit, Locos Por Juana is thrilled about rising up from the underground. “It’s time we do this show and we’re really excited,” said lead singer Itagui. “We have fans of all ages and it will be great to give a concert for them in the city where we live,” he concluded.Formed almost a decade ago in Miami, the six friends -- lead singer Itagui, Javier "Lakambra" Delgado on drums, Guillermo "El Chamo" Cabral on bass, percussionist Alan Reyna, Emiliano "Che Funk" Torres on trumpet and lead axman Mark Kondrat -- released their much anticipated third album, La Verdad, in May. The first production distributed and marketed by a major label (Machete Music/Universal Music Group), the album reflects the sound of a mature band that cut its teeth touring and performing live before an ever-growing legion of fans.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Buika's Naked Side Is Her Only Side
Buika is back, bearing body and soul in the most poignant album of her career. From the risque cover art to the intimacy and rawness of her themes and vocal delivery, Buika has proven yet again that she’s completely surrendered herself to her art – no matter where it may take her. On Niña de Fuego (Girl of Fire) she plunges even deeper into her emotions and emerges in voice to reveal her inner anguish. Traditional coplas (female-centric Spanish torch songs) and fusions of flamenco, jazz, gypsy rumba, and Afro-Cuban rhythms become heart-wrenching songs of despair and love lost. For the first time Buika includes beautifully rendered rancheras in her repertoire, one of which is testament to her own lyrical prowess as a songwriter.On Niña de Fuego the singer reunites with producer Javier Limón, renowned for the sophisticated flamenco jazz cross-pollinations that he previously brought to highly praised albums by Bebo Valdés and Diego “El Cigala” (Lagrimas Negras) and Paco de Lucía (Cositas Buenas). On Niña de Fuego, Limón is also a musician, unleashing masterful flamenco guitar flourishes accompanied by an A-list lineup that includes Cuban musicians Iván “Melon” Lewis on piano, Horacio “El Negro” Hernández on drums, and Carlitos Sarduy on trumpet. The sound is anchored by Dany Noel on bass with Ramón Porrina and Piraña on percussion.
The eleven-track disc is a collection of classics, songs composed by Limón and David Trueba, and two -- the tender “Miénteme Bien” (Lie To Me Well) and the saucy “Mentirosa” (Liar) -- penned by Buika herself. Both of these touch on similar themes surrounding the false illusions of love. On “Volverás” (You Will Return) Buika is volatile, at first her voice is hazy, almost diaphanous and then it soars in desperate, untamed vocal flights for the return of her lover. Other album highlights include the elegantly soulful opener “La Falsa Moneda” (The Fake Coin) and “Culpa Mía” (My Fault), featuring a voice and palmas intro that climaxes into a swinging Afro-Cuban descarga.
The eleven-track disc is a collection of classics, songs composed by Limón and David Trueba, and two -- the tender “Miénteme Bien” (Lie To Me Well) and the saucy “Mentirosa” (Liar) -- penned by Buika herself. Both of these touch on similar themes surrounding the false illusions of love. On “Volverás” (You Will Return) Buika is volatile, at first her voice is hazy, almost diaphanous and then it soars in desperate, untamed vocal flights for the return of her lover. Other album highlights include the elegantly soulful opener “La Falsa Moneda” (The Fake Coin) and “Culpa Mía” (My Fault), featuring a voice and palmas intro that climaxes into a swinging Afro-Cuban descarga.
If you missed Buika's performance last year in Miami, don't miss the chance to see her breathtaking show this time around. Buika will be at the Gusman Theater on September 9th, the only scheduled concert in the U.S. so far this year.
Buika's Naked Side Is Her Only Side
Buika is back, bearing body and soul in the most poignant album of her career. From the risque cover art to the intimacy and rawness of her themes and vocal delivery, Buika has proven yet again that she’s completely surrendered herself to her art – no matter where it may take her. On Niña de Fuego (Girl of Fire) she plunges even deeper into her emotions and emerges in voice to reveal her inner anguish. Traditional coplas (female-centric Spanish torch songs) and fusions of flamenco, jazz, gypsy rumba, and Afro-Cuban rhythms become heart-wrenching songs of despair and love lost. For the first time Buika includes beautifully rendered rancheras in her repertoire, one of which is testament to her own lyrical prowess as a songwriter.On Niña de Fuego the singer reunites with producer Javier Limón, renowned for the sophisticated flamenco jazz cross-pollinations that he previously brought to highly praised albums by Bebo Valdés and Diego “El Cigala” (Lagrimas Negras) and Paco de Lucía (Cositas Buenas). On Niña de Fuego, Limón is also a musician, unleashing masterful flamenco guitar flourishes accompanied by an A-list lineup that includes Cuban musicians Iván “Melon” Lewis on piano, Horacio “El Negro” Hernández on drums, and Carlitos Sarduy on trumpet. The sound is anchored by Dany Noel on bass with Ramón Porrina and Piraña on percussion.
The eleven-track disc is a collection of classics, songs composed by Limón and David Trueba, and two -- the tender “Miénteme Bien” (Lie To Me Well) and the saucy “Mentirosa” (Liar) -- penned by Buika herself. Both of these touch on similar themes surrounding the false illusions of love. On “Volverás” (You Will Return) Buika is volatile, at first her voice is hazy, almost diaphanous and then it soars in desperate, untamed vocal flights for the return of her lover. Other album highlights include the elegantly soulful opener “La Falsa Moneda” (The Fake Coin) and “Culpa Mía” (My Fault), featuring a voice and palmas intro that climaxes into a swinging Afro-Cuban descarga.
The eleven-track disc is a collection of classics, songs composed by Limón and David Trueba, and two -- the tender “Miénteme Bien” (Lie To Me Well) and the saucy “Mentirosa” (Liar) -- penned by Buika herself. Both of these touch on similar themes surrounding the false illusions of love. On “Volverás” (You Will Return) Buika is volatile, at first her voice is hazy, almost diaphanous and then it soars in desperate, untamed vocal flights for the return of her lover. Other album highlights include the elegantly soulful opener “La Falsa Moneda” (The Fake Coin) and “Culpa Mía” (My Fault), featuring a voice and palmas intro that climaxes into a swinging Afro-Cuban descarga.
If you missed Buika's performance last year in Miami, don't miss the chance to see her breathtaking show this time around. Buika will be at the Gusman Theater on September 9th, the only scheduled concert in the U.S. so far this year.
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Introducing Spam Allstars
The Spam Allstars' latest funky little gem of an album -- number six if you've been counting --serves as an introductory crash course into the ways of DJ Le Spam and his motley crew of sonic dreamweavers for those who are oblivious. For those who aren't Introducing Spam Allstars is another delightful trip aboard Miami's funkiest indie outfit. The term descarga takes on a whole new dimension when filtered through the band's sultry mix of improvisational electronica, turntablism, Afro-Cuban music, Latin rhythms, funk, hip-hop, and dub. Le Spam (aka Andrew Yeomanson) is a Canadian-born musician who once played guitar for Cuban-American alt-rocker Nil Lara. He also cut his teeth DJ-ing on a pirate radio station in Miami where he gained a devoted listnership for his deftly executed mixes. The underground radio gig soon translated into a mainstream club gig at Miami's Hoy Como Ayer where musicians of all backgrounds fell under DJ Le Spam's spell. With Adam Zimmon (formerly of Shakira) on guitar, Tomas Diaz on timbales and vocals, AJ Hill (who played with everyone from Sly and the Family Stone to Herbie Hancock) on saxes and vocals, Steve Welsh on saxes, Mercedes Abal from Havana (formerly with Albita) on flute, Chad Bernstein on trombone and vocals and the great Afro-Cuban percussionist Lazaro Alfonso (formerly of Irakere) on congas, DJ Le Spam has assembled a super-charged, A-list posse that has successfully melded what may seem like opposite poles in music -- the organic with the mechanical. "Gallo Pinto," for instance is a retro groove with a backbeat, hustling horns, Afro-Cuban percussion, chekeré, an insistent funk guitar riff, and flute. "Ochimini" is a trance-inducing chant sung in Yoruba and anchored in a rubbery bass line that has the power to suck you in the very potent brew bubbling at the band's core. Another highlight is the more melodious, light-on-your-feet "Afrika," with folkloric call and response embellishments for added exoticism. "Descarga Gusano" starts as an old-school descarga from Cuba's golden age in music but is updated with layers of samples, Latin jazz horn improvisations, drumming, and hand claps. If you haven't fallen under the spell of Spam, now is the time.
Introducing Spam Allstars
The Spam Allstars' latest funky little gem of an album -- number six if you've been counting --serves as an introductory crash course into the ways of DJ Le Spam and his motley crew of sonic dreamweavers for those who are oblivious. For those who aren't Introducing Spam Allstars is another delightful trip aboard Miami's funkiest indie outfit. The term descarga takes on a whole new dimension when filtered through the band's sultry mix of improvisational electronica, turntablism, Afro-Cuban music, Latin rhythms, funk, hip-hop, and dub. Le Spam (aka Andrew Yeomanson) is a Canadian-born musician who once played guitar for Cuban-American alt-rocker Nil Lara. He also cut his teeth DJ-ing on a pirate radio station in Miami where he gained a devoted listnership for his deftly executed mixes. The underground radio gig soon translated into a mainstream club gig at Miami's Hoy Como Ayer where musicians of all backgrounds fell under DJ Le Spam's spell. With Adam Zimmon (formerly of Shakira) on guitar, Tomas Diaz on timbales and vocals, AJ Hill (who played with everyone from Sly and the Family Stone to Herbie Hancock) on saxes and vocals, Steve Welsh on saxes, Mercedes Abal from Havana (formerly with Albita) on flute, Chad Bernstein on trombone and vocals and the great Afro-Cuban percussionist Lazaro Alfonso (formerly of Irakere) on congas, DJ Le Spam has assembled a super-charged, A-list posse that has successfully melded what may seem like opposite poles in music -- the organic with the mechanical. "Gallo Pinto," for instance is a retro groove with a backbeat, hustling horns, Afro-Cuban percussion, chekeré, an insistent funk guitar riff, and flute. "Ochimini" is a trance-inducing chant sung in Yoruba and anchored in a rubbery bass line that has the power to suck you in the very potent brew bubbling at the band's core. Another highlight is the more melodious, light-on-your-feet "Afrika," with folkloric call and response embellishments for added exoticism. "Descarga Gusano" starts as an old-school descarga from Cuba's golden age in music but is updated with layers of samples, Latin jazz horn improvisations, drumming, and hand claps. If you haven't fallen under the spell of Spam, now is the time.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Dreaming About the F Train
Well boys and girls, I've almost recuperated from last week's action-packed four days of music, debauchery, and moments of outright perplexity as I navigated through the streets of New York and experienced the exhiliration of live music in some of the city's hippest dives. The Latin Alternative Music Conference pulled out all the stops this year, it's ninth, showcasing performances by some of the most cutting-edge artists in the genre I hate to call a genre just becasue it's so damn inclusive and unrestrained it defies all categorization. Besides, labels are so passé. The conference was bristling with emerging and established acts from across the Americas and Spain, as well as the usual coterie of industry people. I gotta admit though I skipped out on all the hobnobbing and panels to partake in a little urban exploration -- sometimes alone, other times in the company of my cousin Patricia, who is rather halirious in that singular Miami Cuban meets New York kind of way. So rather than sit in the ballroom at Midtown's Roosevelt Hotel on day two, for instance, to hear movers and shakers representing Billboard, IODA, and Universal Latino, amongst others, discuss whether or not a record label can be outsourced - too much for me - I grabbed some Chinese and took the subway to the Lower East Side where I hung out with some very cool people from Nublu Records, one of the most happenin' labels in town, if not the country.
But I'll start with day one, a day that began with a visit to the Met and ended with me getting lost in Brooklyn Heights at around 3AM. In between I registered for the conference at The Roosevelt, got together with my editor from Global Rhythm over a few beers at a chilled-out bar on 36th St. (between 5th and Madison) called Under the Volcano, and eventually made my way to Lower Manhattan's Mercury Lounge on Houston Street. The GoTV Indie Showcase featured performances by Forro In The Dark, Zigmat, Pilar Diaz, Don Tetto, Afrobeta, and Guajiro. But I took the F train in the wrong direction and almost ended up in Queens. Arriving late and hungry, by the time I set foot in the Mercury, Brazil's Forro In The Dark had already played to my dismay. The band was formed spontaneously about five years ago when a group of musicians came together to play Wednesday nights at Nublu, a diminutive Lower East Side club that also spawned dance/electronica group The Brazilian Girls, who coincidentally was featured at LAMC. But more about Forro In The Dark, The Brazilian Girls and Nublu later. I caught the last two song's from L.A.-based songstress Pilar Diaz's set. The Chilean-born vocalist is launching her solo career after cutting loose from the bilingual new wave outfit Los Abandoned. I thought "Ilegal," with it's overpowering bassline and punk attitude in reflecting on the underworld of immigrant smuggling across the border was bold, both in message and sound.
After that I decided to grab a bite at the famous Kat'z Delicatessen nearby, you know the eatery where Meg Ryan does her fake orgasm scene in When Harry Met Sally. Well that's great and all but I must've been on crack cause I ended up spending $20 on a pastrami sandwich and a can of Diet Coke. As I wrestled with the oversized sandwich I missed Zigmat, another band that plays at Nublu but has yet to ink a deal. Next up was Miami-based electro-pop trio Afrobeta, whose lead singer took the stage in a blond afro wig. They made a lot of noise and got me thinking that electro-pop is becoming a hackneyed trend, overused as a substitute for true musicianship. After their set I walked a couple of blocks to the Forro In The Dark after party at Nublu where I filled my cup on musicianship and some ass shakin' to top it off. The narrow, little club under a blue light, at some point grew into a record label that signs bands and collectives like the aforementioned Brazilian ensemble that plays a variation of forró, Wax Poetic, 3 Na Massa, Nublu Orchestra, Love Trio, and other sonically refreshing projects. It was great to be in a club where everybody was dancing in very close proximity to each other, getting their groove on to Forro In The Dark's blend of northeastern rhythms and urban grit. I danced so much that tributaries of sweat began running down my back. I made it back to Brooklyn Heights in one piece, but I must have lost my sense of direction due to exhaustion, getting lost within the radius of a couple of blocks. As I walked around in circles during ungodly hours, I noticed a black sedan with tinted windows slowing down behind me. I thought this is it, and imagined myself hogtied and stuffed in the trunk of a car. Finally I came upon some city workers spreading gravel on the roads and asked a black guy with a cherubic face, all coy 'n shit if he knew where Atlantic Avenue was located. He said yes, but after I asked him to point me in the right direction he responded with an arctic ice dry no. Motherfucker, I said, no wonder you're here raking gravel at 3 o'clock in the morning, bitch. Then like a miracle I turned around to see Atlantic. It was a celestial thing to see that little green sign, hanging from the electrical lines in the dead of the night, like a light in the tunnel.
Thursday, day two: More roaming the streets, particularly the Lower East Side, which I became enamored with. I imagined what it must have been like at the turn of the century in the era of the tenements and the different ethnic groups marking their territories. At night I found myself at the Bowery Ballroom on 6 Delancy St., not far from were the legendary CBGB's once stood. Spanish power punk-ska outfit La Pulqueria opened the showcase with a hard-driving, energetic set. The seven-piece band from Valencia blew the audience away with its full-throttle sound, which included a plaintive trumpet and trombone section, hyperkinetic drumming, electric guitar thrashing, funk bass forays, and a lead singer bursting with onstage bravado. They were followed by Mexico City psychedelic punk-rock, electro-pop outfit Los Fancy Free. Uniformly dressed, the band delivered quirky, enigmatic soundscapes and frontman Martin Thulin, a.k.a. Menonita Rock, even jumped from the stage and sang in the crowd during a song about global warming. The night climaxed with a breathtaking performance by 22-year-old singer/songwriter Ximena Sariñana. Following her #1 Mexico debut, Mediocre, in February, the starlet-turned-musician dropped her buzzworthy album in the U.S. on July 15. Sariñana's Bowery gig was her first ever performance in NYC and she lived up to all the hype surrounding her release. Fiona Apple en español? Maybe so. But behind the childlike demeanor, quirkiness, and indie-appeal, there's something remarkably mature and very Latin about Sariñana's music. She was a tough act to follow, but it didn't stop Alex Cuba from going on with his barebones band comprised of himself on guitar, a bass player, and a drummer. What the Cuban-bred singer/songwriter lacked in sonic muscle, he made up for with his enveloping vocals. An irony given that in his native Cuba, the British Columbia-based artist never made it far as a singer. Some of the kids in the audience didn't respond well to Cuba's simplified format but he seemed relaxed and at ease in transmitting his soulful, guitar-fueled pop songs. I was rooting for 'em though, and singing along to each and every song from his latest album, Agua Del Pozo.
Friday, day three: I actually worked on day three. I stopped by The Roosevelt to check on Alex Cuba, whose interview I had to move up, and then made my way down, on the F train, to Sound Generation. There I interviewed Ximena Sariñana right before her on air interview with L.A.-based tastemaker station KCRW's Nic Harcourt (from Morning Becomes Eclectic), in between live sets. It was Sariñana's American radio debut and I was witnessing history, for whatever that's worth. The live music and interview with Harcourt was being transmitted live into L.A., from New York of course. It was very cool. But even cooler was having legendary Argentine producer Tweety Gonzalez (Soda Stereo, Gustavo Cerati) sitting next to me on a couch, sorrounded by the siren's entourage, a sound engineer, label people, publicists, and radio personalities. I got a chance to chat with Tweety about Ximena, since he co-produced the album along with Uruguayan producer Juan Campodonico (Jorge Drexler, Bajofondo). But we also talked briefly about his other projects, and Cuban music. The short, 15 minute tête-a- tête was definitely one of the highnotes of my trip. I headed back to Midtown to interview Alex over an ice cold beer. Look out for that Q&A right here soon.
So my cousin and I did some bonding Friday night, while she bonded on the side with facebook via her blackberry. I'm hooked and I don't even have a blackberry or facebook... not yet anyway. We arrived late to the Celebrate Brookyln Show at the Prospect Park Bandshell and I missed Chicha Libre's performance... story of my life. The Brazilian Girls was already playing. They played some songs from their upcoming CD New York City and as the enigmatic lead singer Sabina Sciubba floated around stage in a puffy white outfit that looked like something Bjork would wear, I couldn't help but think she seemed like a cloud hovering in some remote sonic plane, totally disconnected from the rest of the band. The most memorable song of the set was "Pussy" from the band's 2005 self-titled album. As Sciubba taunted pussy, pussy, pussy marijuana, my cousin turned around and saw a very middle-aged couple, dressed in a perversely conservative manner, like midwestern breadbasket, or southern baptist conservative. Unsure if they had just heard what they thought they had just heard, they seemed totally out of place, as if they had just been dropped there from like another planet, and then Sciubba sang it again, and again, and again, and reality began to set in. I still LOL when I think about it. The night got better. We headed to the Lower East Side, Nublu to be more specific, laughing hysterically. We chilled at Nublu for a little while and spent time taking pictures of ourselves. From there it was off to an above ground, underground party at a loft in the Meatpacking District, a totally un-LAMC-related party. The place was a fire hazard, to use P's words. But there were awesome views of the city streets below from the tall windows and we made good use of the dancefloor. The highlight of the night was the elevator man. On our way out it seemed like we had transformed into a pack of wolves, along with other women, as we waited impatiently for the hot elevator man to transport us down. When he finally appeared we all cheered to the annoyance of a few innocent male bystanders who couldn't help but role their eyes. The elevator man unanimously became the Meatpacking District's most preyed upon carnivirous delight.
Saturday, day four: Woke up late, had a big breakfast. Did minimal shopping at SoHo and got a frontseat view of some criminal activity out on the street as a cop chased down a dude who apparently had either stolen something or was busted in a drug deal. We noticed some other undercover cops dressed as civilians involved in the chase that unfolded in the middle of the street. The cop managed to grab the guy and take him down as the entire block momentarily paused. Some people took videos and photos on their camera phones. Lovely prelude to the last LAMC show of the week featuring DJ Bitman, Plastilina Mosh, and Julieta Venegas in Central Park's Summerstage Show at Rumsey Playfield. You guessed it... we arrived late, but at least I caught all of PMosh's set, and we left early, only staying for Venegas' first three songs. I wrote the cover story on Plastilina Mosh for Batanga Latin Music's next issue so I was super excited to see them live. But of course they didn't play any of the new songs off their upcoming album All U Need Is Mosh, so that was disappointing. Still the duo from Monterrey, backed by a band, rocked the stage and deftly went from heavy guitar, fist-pumping rock to hip-hop, electronica, and funk, delivered with sense of humor and total irreverence. After the show we feasted on Vietnamese food and had more laughs as we walked through Tribeca, Little Italy, and I forget where else, but I got the foot and heel blisters to proove it. I love New York.
Dreaming About the F Train
Well boys and girls, I've almost recuperated from last week's action-packed four days of music, debauchery, and moments of outright perplexity as I navigated through the streets of New York and experienced the exhiliration of live music in some of the city's hippest dives. The Latin Alternative Music Conference pulled out all the stops this year, it's ninth, showcasing performances by some of the most cutting-edge artists in the genre I hate to call a genre just becasue it's so damn inclusive and unrestrained it defies all categorization. Besides, labels are so passé. The conference was bristling with emerging and established acts from across the Americas and Spain, as well as the usual coterie of industry people. I gotta admit though I skipped out on all the hobnobbing and panels to partake in a little urban exploration -- sometimes alone, other times in the company of my cousin Patricia, who is rather halirious in that singular Miami Cuban meets New York kind of way. So rather than sit in the ballroom at Midtown's Roosevelt Hotel on day two, for instance, to hear movers and shakers representing Billboard, IODA, and Universal Latino, amongst others, discuss whether or not a record label can be outsourced - too much for me - I grabbed some Chinese and took the subway to the Lower East Side where I hung out with some very cool people from Nublu Records, one of the most happenin' labels in town, if not the country.
But I'll start with day one, a day that began with a visit to the Met and ended with me getting lost in Brooklyn Heights at around 3AM. In between I registered for the conference at The Roosevelt, got together with my editor from Global Rhythm over a few beers at a chilled-out bar on 36th St. (between 5th and Madison) called Under the Volcano, and eventually made my way to Lower Manhattan's Mercury Lounge on Houston Street. The GoTV Indie Showcase featured performances by Forro In The Dark, Zigmat, Pilar Diaz, Don Tetto, Afrobeta, and Guajiro. But I took the F train in the wrong direction and almost ended up in Queens. Arriving late and hungry, by the time I set foot in the Mercury, Brazil's Forro In The Dark had already played to my dismay. The band was formed spontaneously about five years ago when a group of musicians came together to play Wednesday nights at Nublu, a diminutive Lower East Side club that also spawned dance/electronica group The Brazilian Girls, who coincidentally was featured at LAMC. But more about Forro In The Dark, The Brazilian Girls and Nublu later. I caught the last two song's from L.A.-based songstress Pilar Diaz's set. The Chilean-born vocalist is launching her solo career after cutting loose from the bilingual new wave outfit Los Abandoned. I thought "Ilegal," with it's overpowering bassline and punk attitude in reflecting on the underworld of immigrant smuggling across the border was bold, both in message and sound.
After that I decided to grab a bite at the famous Kat'z Delicatessen nearby, you know the eatery where Meg Ryan does her fake orgasm scene in When Harry Met Sally. Well that's great and all but I must've been on crack cause I ended up spending $20 on a pastrami sandwich and a can of Diet Coke. As I wrestled with the oversized sandwich I missed Zigmat, another band that plays at Nublu but has yet to ink a deal. Next up was Miami-based electro-pop trio Afrobeta, whose lead singer took the stage in a blond afro wig. They made a lot of noise and got me thinking that electro-pop is becoming a hackneyed trend, overused as a substitute for true musicianship. After their set I walked a couple of blocks to the Forro In The Dark after party at Nublu where I filled my cup on musicianship and some ass shakin' to top it off. The narrow, little club under a blue light, at some point grew into a record label that signs bands and collectives like the aforementioned Brazilian ensemble that plays a variation of forró, Wax Poetic, 3 Na Massa, Nublu Orchestra, Love Trio, and other sonically refreshing projects. It was great to be in a club where everybody was dancing in very close proximity to each other, getting their groove on to Forro In The Dark's blend of northeastern rhythms and urban grit. I danced so much that tributaries of sweat began running down my back. I made it back to Brooklyn Heights in one piece, but I must have lost my sense of direction due to exhaustion, getting lost within the radius of a couple of blocks. As I walked around in circles during ungodly hours, I noticed a black sedan with tinted windows slowing down behind me. I thought this is it, and imagined myself hogtied and stuffed in the trunk of a car. Finally I came upon some city workers spreading gravel on the roads and asked a black guy with a cherubic face, all coy 'n shit if he knew where Atlantic Avenue was located. He said yes, but after I asked him to point me in the right direction he responded with an arctic ice dry no. Motherfucker, I said, no wonder you're here raking gravel at 3 o'clock in the morning, bitch. Then like a miracle I turned around to see Atlantic. It was a celestial thing to see that little green sign, hanging from the electrical lines in the dead of the night, like a light in the tunnel.
Thursday, day two: More roaming the streets, particularly the Lower East Side, which I became enamored with. I imagined what it must have been like at the turn of the century in the era of the tenements and the different ethnic groups marking their territories. At night I found myself at the Bowery Ballroom on 6 Delancy St., not far from were the legendary CBGB's once stood. Spanish power punk-ska outfit La Pulqueria opened the showcase with a hard-driving, energetic set. The seven-piece band from Valencia blew the audience away with its full-throttle sound, which included a plaintive trumpet and trombone section, hyperkinetic drumming, electric guitar thrashing, funk bass forays, and a lead singer bursting with onstage bravado. They were followed by Mexico City psychedelic punk-rock, electro-pop outfit Los Fancy Free. Uniformly dressed, the band delivered quirky, enigmatic soundscapes and frontman Martin Thulin, a.k.a. Menonita Rock, even jumped from the stage and sang in the crowd during a song about global warming. The night climaxed with a breathtaking performance by 22-year-old singer/songwriter Ximena Sariñana. Following her #1 Mexico debut, Mediocre, in February, the starlet-turned-musician dropped her buzzworthy album in the U.S. on July 15. Sariñana's Bowery gig was her first ever performance in NYC and she lived up to all the hype surrounding her release. Fiona Apple en español? Maybe so. But behind the childlike demeanor, quirkiness, and indie-appeal, there's something remarkably mature and very Latin about Sariñana's music. She was a tough act to follow, but it didn't stop Alex Cuba from going on with his barebones band comprised of himself on guitar, a bass player, and a drummer. What the Cuban-bred singer/songwriter lacked in sonic muscle, he made up for with his enveloping vocals. An irony given that in his native Cuba, the British Columbia-based artist never made it far as a singer. Some of the kids in the audience didn't respond well to Cuba's simplified format but he seemed relaxed and at ease in transmitting his soulful, guitar-fueled pop songs. I was rooting for 'em though, and singing along to each and every song from his latest album, Agua Del Pozo.
Friday, day three: I actually worked on day three. I stopped by The Roosevelt to check on Alex Cuba, whose interview I had to move up, and then made my way down, on the F train, to Sound Generation. There I interviewed Ximena Sariñana right before her on air interview with L.A.-based tastemaker station KCRW's Nic Harcourt (from Morning Becomes Eclectic), in between live sets. It was Sariñana's American radio debut and I was witnessing history, for whatever that's worth. The live music and interview with Harcourt was being transmitted live into L.A., from New York of course. It was very cool. But even cooler was having legendary Argentine producer Tweety Gonzalez (Soda Stereo, Gustavo Cerati) sitting next to me on a couch, sorrounded by the siren's entourage, a sound engineer, label people, publicists, and radio personalities. I got a chance to chat with Tweety about Ximena, since he co-produced the album along with Uruguayan producer Juan Campodonico (Jorge Drexler, Bajofondo). But we also talked briefly about his other projects, and Cuban music. The short, 15 minute tête-a- tête was definitely one of the highnotes of my trip. I headed back to Midtown to interview Alex over an ice cold beer. Look out for that Q&A right here soon.
So my cousin and I did some bonding Friday night, while she bonded on the side with facebook via her blackberry. I'm hooked and I don't even have a blackberry or facebook... not yet anyway. We arrived late to the Celebrate Brookyln Show at the Prospect Park Bandshell and I missed Chicha Libre's performance... story of my life. The Brazilian Girls was already playing. They played some songs from their upcoming CD New York City and as the enigmatic lead singer Sabina Sciubba floated around stage in a puffy white outfit that looked like something Bjork would wear, I couldn't help but think she seemed like a cloud hovering in some remote sonic plane, totally disconnected from the rest of the band. The most memorable song of the set was "Pussy" from the band's 2005 self-titled album. As Sciubba taunted pussy, pussy, pussy marijuana, my cousin turned around and saw a very middle-aged couple, dressed in a perversely conservative manner, like midwestern breadbasket, or southern baptist conservative. Unsure if they had just heard what they thought they had just heard, they seemed totally out of place, as if they had just been dropped there from like another planet, and then Sciubba sang it again, and again, and again, and reality began to set in. I still LOL when I think about it. The night got better. We headed to the Lower East Side, Nublu to be more specific, laughing hysterically. We chilled at Nublu for a little while and spent time taking pictures of ourselves. From there it was off to an above ground, underground party at a loft in the Meatpacking District, a totally un-LAMC-related party. The place was a fire hazard, to use P's words. But there were awesome views of the city streets below from the tall windows and we made good use of the dancefloor. The highlight of the night was the elevator man. On our way out it seemed like we had transformed into a pack of wolves, along with other women, as we waited impatiently for the hot elevator man to transport us down. When he finally appeared we all cheered to the annoyance of a few innocent male bystanders who couldn't help but role their eyes. The elevator man unanimously became the Meatpacking District's most preyed upon carnivirous delight.
Saturday, day four: Woke up late, had a big breakfast. Did minimal shopping at SoHo and got a frontseat view of some criminal activity out on the street as a cop chased down a dude who apparently had either stolen something or was busted in a drug deal. We noticed some other undercover cops dressed as civilians involved in the chase that unfolded in the middle of the street. The cop managed to grab the guy and take him down as the entire block momentarily paused. Some people took videos and photos on their camera phones. Lovely prelude to the last LAMC show of the week featuring DJ Bitman, Plastilina Mosh, and Julieta Venegas in Central Park's Summerstage Show at Rumsey Playfield. You guessed it... we arrived late, but at least I caught all of PMosh's set, and we left early, only staying for Venegas' first three songs. I wrote the cover story on Plastilina Mosh for Batanga Latin Music's next issue so I was super excited to see them live. But of course they didn't play any of the new songs off their upcoming album All U Need Is Mosh, so that was disappointing. Still the duo from Monterrey, backed by a band, rocked the stage and deftly went from heavy guitar, fist-pumping rock to hip-hop, electronica, and funk, delivered with sense of humor and total irreverence. After the show we feasted on Vietnamese food and had more laughs as we walked through Tribeca, Little Italy, and I forget where else, but I got the foot and heel blisters to proove it. I love New York.
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