Yemaya's Verse

Si no sabe no te meta

2011-11-26T20:21:00.001+11:00

Have finally edited my photos, watermarked* them and uploaded them. Man the trip seems like a long time ago. It's the usual visual chronicle of the gigs I went to - a lot less this time thanks to all the trials and tribulations I went through but you know I still had some fun times. There is a slideshow below, and of course all of my Cuba pics, going back to 2006 are on flickr (some without watermarks!).

The image above is from a building on San Miguel in Cayo Hueso, about a block from Palacio de la Rumba. I love this piece of graffiti (click on it for a bigger version of the pic), not just because it's endlessly referenced in songs but also because of a conversation MFF (who is Chilean) and I had about it when we passed it one day.
She said, with the kind of worldweariness and edginess of someone very familiar with the phrase and the concept: "Everybody always says that but everybody always meta in everything."

Created with Admarket's flickrSLiDR.

If you haven't been over to Richard Curzon's site Mucho Swing lately, you might want to take a look. As well as the kind of goodies he usually serves up, at the moment there is a 30 minute doco on Pupy. I believe this is slated to be released with Siempre Pupy, when it finally gets an official release. For the next couple of weeks at least, you can see (and download) it at Mucho Swing, and see tunes by Havana D'Primera, Aragon, Yumuri and heaps more. (He clears them out regularly to make way for new videos). He also uploads radio files from Radio Taino et al, which are great for keeping up with music news, practicing Spanish, and making you feel really bad that you're thousands of miles away and can't go to whichever awesome gig is happening today/tomorrow/this weekend.

* I know this is a drag but even though I'm fine with people using my stuff with a credit, I'm no fine with them using it and pretending it's they're own. I know they're pathetic and I should let them to do it they're that desperate but ... I'm a little but pathetic too I guess. So for now, they're watermarked.

No dejemos, loca!

2011-10-24T22:13:00.003+11:00

The last of my Havana video is a fairly chaotic recording of Pupy y Los Que Son Son doing La Loca at La Tropical. This song is the follow-up to Loco con una moto, which was a massive hit in Cuba - and which I loathed. It has a similar poppy simplicity to it but it's a bit funkier and despite El Noro's usual screeching, I think it's a lot of fun. Both will be on the new album, Siempre Pupy, which should be lobbing at Descarga and Prodland any day now.
The previous two videos I uploaded were new songs from Combinacion de la Habana. Both are slick funky tunes that unfortunately have that big echoey sound you sometimes get at Galiano, but I love the way the horn riff dominates the song below, right from the beginning, instead of waiting patiently for the marcha to conclude before making its entrance.

The band's regular baterista was off with some kind of leg injury, and you can see bandleader Gerson directing his replacement, which means that Eugenio is covering piano and keyboard parts, and both this song, and the other estreno, which is here, probably sound a little different when everyone is on board. But it's pretty clear they are both strong songs. Wish someone would give them the opportunity to record a proper album.

Un poquitico mas pegao que antes

2011-10-17T11:51:00.003+11:00

This is one of two new songs (apart from the demos that were released earlier this year) that Havana D'Primera were playing during my trip. Unlike Nadie saba na', with its sophisticated arrangement, this one (don't have a name for it) isn't much more than an insistent groove with some catchy coros. But Carita de pasaporte and Para mi gente (No me importa) both started out that way too, I wouldn't be surprised if the final recorded version has more elements to it.

(For some reason I recorded this twice. I think this is the better version, but I might upload the other one as well, at some point.) Karina from Odduara has just announced that HdP will be touring Europe from July 11 until August 15, you lucky buggers. She will also be taking Bamboleo to Europe in March. Don't miss a chance to see the delightful Ailyn in person.

Ailyn wears the hotpants

2011-10-14T12:37:00.003+11:00

As I noted before, now that Tanya Pantoja has left Bamboleo to form her own eponymous outfit, Lazaro Valdes has rebooted the group to resemble the Bamboleo of yore, although the truth is that one female - former Azucar Negra singer Ailyn Dallera - is very much at its heart. I have two videos of her singing with them. One is La que manda (above), previously recorded by Tanya, the other is one I'm not familiar with (below). I didn't think much of it when I saw them do it, but afterwards, the coro surreptiously haunted me for days.

Aussies should note the shout-out at 2:12.

Alexander y Manolito

2011-10-11T15:49:00.004+11:00

Manolito y su Trabuco are showcasing a bunch of songs at their Havana gigs at the moment that will be on a forthcoming album. There are rumours that it will be live, but there are about a half dozen studio demos floating around and when I asked bass player Chino if they had recorded this one yet, he said, everything but the metales, which implies that it is very much a studio album. This one is a beauty - I don't know what it's called, but it was written by Alexander Abreu, and that's all I need to know. The catchy coros and lovely mambos are just icing on the cake. La Revé's Andy Fornet is on drums.

Havana D'Primera - estreno

2011-10-09T19:32:00.005+11:00

First video from the trip I've uploaded is probably my favourite song from this year. There are other versions floating around on youtube as Havana D'Primera were doing it on the summer tour of Europe. I tried to show Rodney and Keisel going at it on drumkit and timbales, as well as a little bit of everything else (like the interaction between Yandi on bass and Tony on piano) - there's a lot going on in this little beauty. Enjoy.

NB Alex wasn't the only one completely soaked - air con at Miramar was broken all summer.

Cooking with Trabuco

2011-10-05T05:16:00.003+11:00

Yes, Mayami IS wearing a Bart Simpson "cual es tu problema" T-shirt.

Wow. Great Trabuco gig. Two weird things in that sentence, right? That it was great; and that it even happened. If you read the previous instalment, you’ll know that they were completely absent from the Disco Fiesta listings; they didn’t play a song and mention the matinee, didn’t mention it in the gig guide; nada. I rang Galiano a couple of time and got no response and was pretty convinced it wasn’t happening. When Yarima and her friend Daisy came round about 6 I thought I’d call bajista Chino anyway just in case. I said, I guess you’re not playing today. He said, no, we are! I said, OK, nos vemos entonces. And off we went.
As you’d expect with nil promotion, it was not busy at all - less people than for Pupy last night. I know - or have been led to believe at least - that you have to pay to get in the radio listings, but surely it’s worth it to get a few more punters in?
It had been an cool-ish overcast day with some patchy rain and I totally underdressed for the Galiano air-con, shivering in my seat, the reggaeton not making me feel like getting up and warming up. The DJ switched to Blu Cantrell’s Hit em up style, which was a bit odd, then that old reggae number The circle song. Completely bizarre. Next up: merengue, to the absolute delight of the couple at the next table who leapt out of their chairs and dashed to the dancefloor. I was staggered. Who hangs out for merengue?
Trabuco didn’t keep us waiting. They started about 7 with the brisk uptempo number from the last album, the name of which eludes me. Three mics were set up but Pepitin was missing for reasons that weren’t clear to me. (Amaray talks pretty fast.) Quite frankly I think this was one of the reasons the show was a cut above the previous weeks. Both Amaray and Mayami have better command of their voices than he does of his and Manolito cooked up a pretty solid set, albeit one with Control in it. The Alexander song was up early and I love it more and more with every listen. If I were Amaray, I’d be a bit pissed off that Mayami got it. They also have another wicked number that’s kind of New York-ish in the steady groove it perpetuates but it slowly generates a real force. It’s the kind of track that could be a foreign DJ’s best friend, appealing to Cuban music aficionados and those other people at the same time. The coro was something about “dejala que corra”. Now somebody is going to write and tell me it’s some ancient song of theirs I have overlooked. (Please do if that’s the case.)
They did La cuenta no da (candidate for most irritating mambo ever) and the housework song, but also Caballo grande and El aguila. Three cheers!!! Also A medida, the slow swinging track of Mayami’s I dug last year. They also have this weird samba thing and I don’t know if it works or not. I’ll have to get back to you on that. They closed with Locos por mi Habana as always, which they do hilariously fast now - they must have played it, how many hundreds of times? And it seems like they’re all, OK, we’re in the home stretch!
I still maintain that Trabuco lack that sense of joy between the musos that a lot of bands here have - and that Trabuco used to have in spades - and is one of the things that makes seeing bands here so special. I don’t know what changed for them. I know what changed for me.
But I had a great time tonight. Andy is still with them on drums. If Riveron has pneumonia again, I guess he isn’t getting better any time soon. That makes me so sad. I mean I guess he will get better, but you know.
Andy was great as usual. Horn section were swinging. Everyone sounded good. There were some hilariously over the top girls in the audience, including a couple who got up to dance in Control: one got behind Mayami to gyrate and he pushed her away. When she tried to do the same in front, he did it again. Very, very funny. She didn’t look impressed.
A friend told me that last week she went to Miramar on Tuesday expecting to see HdP and got Trabuco. Apparently there was a pila de gente that had done the same and the place was packed, and Manolito acknowledged that. She said a good time was had by all nevertheless.

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Tuesday update: Seems the reason Trabuco didn’t promote Monday’s matinee is that they wanted to go crazy promoting Tuesday’s Miramar matinee. It was on Disco Fiesta every two seconds this morning. I’m not going to push my luck. Rather go out on a high; and rather not go out to Miramar. Gonna wrap things up here at the abode in preparation for my early flight tomorrow.
This is Yemayá signing off from Havana.
Hasta la próxima vez.

Blondes have more fun

2011-10-04T04:43:00.002+11:00

Joan, and a newly blonde Pupy.

Pupy is a bleached blonde now. Or in the local parlance, he has dyed his hair “amarillo”. He’s also rehearsing a stand-in on piano, so he can float around the stage and harass his staff. Not sure of the younger man’s name - maybe Ulysses? I think Duni said he had been in the states for a couple of years, if either of those things adds up to anything for anyone.

The gig was a little under-attended - maybe everyone was at Delirio Habanero, where the ladies were getting in free, courtesy of maestro Jose Luis Cortes and NG La Banda.

(Bad news right now on Disco Fiesta: looks like HdP’s first gig back is Thursday. While they’re playing, I’ll be at home, unpacking my shit and preparing to watch the finale of True Blood and the new episodes of Archer. Curse you Venezuela.)

Duni had been worried that they would go on late and I told him about my theory that bands were going on earlier there now. Sure enough 12.45 arrived and they hit the stage, with a weird opening of a recording of a radio switching stations and snippets of Pupy songs appearing on each one. It didn’t really work.

I don’t really know about Timba a pogolotti as an opener either. It’s almost wasted in that spot. They’re still doing La bala de Billy. That’s actually a waste of a spot, I think. Does Pupy think Joan can’t sing Un Poquito al Reves? Such a great song to let languish unplayed.

They did Mi musica from the new album, which I do like, and I started to video it, but El Noro was so out of tune on the first couple of lines that I abandoned it, disheartened. Better to listen to the studio version I think. Dayan sang Pirolo, which is fun, El Noro, Bombones ni caramelos, which is now called Caramelo con bombon (maybe?), which I’ve described before. And then the Loca and the Loco. So no surprises. El Noro seemed a little subdued. Maybe he was missing the fervour of the Oriente. The people that were there were pretty enthusiastic; lots of couples on the dancefloor and big jiggling girls, one doing the splits. Dayan gave it everything like he always does.

I was pleased to see EL Noro was wearing a collared shirt - under his tie; as had Amaray the week before. I hope this is the beginning of a trend. Shirts for everyone, I say.

The European tour for next month is confirmed, so peeps there will be able to see all this for themselves soon. You know, if El Noro doesn’t go to Charanga. (That's a joke.) (I think.)

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Well the guia bailables has just been on Disco Fiesta and if I wanted to spend my last two days seeing reggaeton, I’d be set: El Micha today in matinee at Miramar (he does every Monday), Osmani Garcia at Galiano tonight and Kola Loka there tomorrow for the matinee. Doesn’t look like Trabuco are doing their usual Monday matinee (probably cause they played there Saturday night) and nothing was mentioned for HdP’s slot at Miramar tomorrow.

That pretty much sums up this trip.

Pit vs patio

2011-10-03T14:04:00.004+11:00

Ricardito sits in with Combinacion de la Habana.

The Lucas video awards are coming up here in a couple of weeks and you can vote for your favourite video by sending an SMS. Sign of the times. Be interesting to know how many SMSes they’re getting (Dial 8888, and the number of your favourite video. Probably doesn’t work outside of Cuba. Sorry). My TV was missing an antenna so I couldn’t watch much tele for a while; then one of employees at the casa gave me one, so I was hooked up; now it’s been taken off me because family of the landlord has moved into the back apartment. Bet they’re not paying as much rent as I am. If I weren’t leaving on Wednesday I’d kick up a stink but at this point I couldn’t give a shit really.

Still it’s interesting the random stuff you see here: one night on a music show called Cuerda viva - which had among its hosts the MC from CdlM the host who ends every sentence with an upwards inflection? As if it were a question? - I saw Yandy and Rodney Barretto backing an Angelina Jolie-esque singer-pianist on a Brazilian-jazz number. They were miming. She did a bad job of remembering how she had sung on the recording. Pretty though.

It was Marbis’s birthday yesterday. She had mostly the girls from her group around to her place plus a horn player from Adalberto, who I guess is the squeeze of one of the chicas. There was a bit of muso talk. I’d been doing a bit of work which I hope is going to offset some of the trouble I have had here so I was well-knackered and didn’t stay long. I came home and flaked and suddenly it was 6.30 and I realised I was going to miss Combinacion de la Habana if I didn’t hurry. I didn’t feel like going really but, only four more days.

I got ready but didn’t get down there till 7.30 so I missed a good portion of the show - they wrapped up at about 8.15 - including the two new songs I like so much. Bummer. Ricardito turned up again to sing mainly, I suspect, so I could take some pics - he’ll come round any day now to have a look, no doubt. He popped in last week, to check out the last lot of pics I had taken of him. Also to tell me the gossip. The latest was that Dantes is going to leave CH and Calzado has called El Noro to replace him. He said he heard it from a productor of the group (productor is like a kind of manager or something. One thing I do know is that the big bands have way too many of them). Someone later told me that El Noro said himself that Calzado called him up. Of course there are other sources for this as well - there always are; these things spread like wildfire. Doesn’t mean there is any basis at all for it, but it’s highly entertaining nevertheless.

The CdlH gig was a little under-attended. Maybe everyone was out at Alamar seeing Kola Loka. They’re also doing well at Galiano - they’ve have finally moved their regular Tuesday gig to there from Cafe Cantante. Makes sense. Apparently it was packed last week. It means HdP - who also need a bigger room on Tuesdays - can’t take it over, though. (There has been pretty much fuck-all for me at Cantante since I’ve been here - Manana Club have a Thursday residency I think - they’re not bad but not top of my list; Azucar band Fridays. No big timba bands are playing there. Nights I think are mostly empty. I don’t know what’s going on.)

ECOS at the Sevilla.

Afterwards I went to the Sevilla to see ECOS, the flamenco crew I had seen at the Gran Teatro a few weeks back. Seems they play at the patio there every Saturday at 9pm for free. It isn’t the full crew, but it’s the two awesome female singers, two guitarists, a cajon player and three dancers on portable wooden flooring. Nice venue, with the moorish tiles and the sky overhead. The singer who had impressed me at the teatro didn’t have the power to conquer in the acoustic setting but the other was sensational, and the dancers were more effective in the intimate scenario. They did two sets over the course of an hour (and they started on time). They didn’t play for long but it was free and I bought a disc, which isn’t a patch on what they are live, but if Marbis’s stories of playing in hotels are the norm (and I imagine they are) they’re probably being paid a very paltry fee (if anything) and certainly deserved something. The waiters hassled a bit to buy drinks or food (I bought a mineral water and sat on it, so they were a bit miffed) and they moved two Cuban guys from a table at the front to one in the corner, even though they bought more drinks than I did. I almost invited them to my spot in the centre of the room, but wasn’t up to the conversation (“where are you from?”).

This is a lovely way to pass an hour on a Saturday night here, especially if you haven’t got the stamina for a 3am finish in one of the Casa de la Musica pits.

Ailyn: a cure for what ails ya

2011-10-02T13:58:00.003+11:00

Salsa Mayor's hilarious Michel and Yasser

So apparently it’s YordiS (Salsa Mayor). And KeisEL (Havana D’Primera). I think I’ve noted at least one of those things before, but then they both slipped my mind. Marbis was complaining about the Havana accent after I mimicked Duni saying “hacel” for “hacer”. She said, “My name is ‘MarrrrbiS’ not ‘Ma’bi’’!” I was reminded of the S in Yordis after their visual effects dude introduced the band members and actually pronounced it correctly. He must be from el campo.

Galiano was pretty busy - full of thin, white jineteras looking for business. Unusual for Galiano, and maybe because the gig (and the one at Miramar the following day) had been aggressively promoted, with Maikel appearing on Disco Fiesta and a banged-up Lada driving through the streets of Centro Habana with a loudspeaker spruiking the gigs all Thursday afternoon.

Their visual effects guy was playing some kind of weird and obnoxious reggaeton-techno fusion thing when I arrived and the dancefloor was completely empty. Another track in that vein followed with the same result, so he had to resort to Revé’s Jala Jala to fill it. The band came on soon after, to my relief. I’ve been kept waiting by Maikel at Galiano before and I was glad this wasn’t one of those nights - though I had noticed on the way in for the first time that the sign at the entrance says the bands will play anytime between 12.30 and 2.30. Yikes. Guess it’s interesting to know that policy dictates they will never go on before 12.30am. You often see tourists leaving before the band comes on - they obviously get there about 11, with no idea of when the band is actually going to play, and get tired of waiting. I think a lot of tourists probably don’t know about the matinees either, seeing as in most countries that’s the kind of thing that is mostly reserved for theatrical or dance productions.

I was quite pleased to see Sharon, the Israeli girl there. I’ve been a bit low since my compañera the Smoke Monstress left. There was no rush for the stage when the band started, a bit inconceivable, seeing as it was Yordis opening. I decided to fill the void.

The opener was Pa cualquiera and it set the scene for an entertaining show. I was pretty knackered,, but I dug it anyway. Mostly good choice of songs, except for the heinous omission of Se acabó el amor (why would you leave out one of your best songs?), and Yordis dominated the proceedings. Can’t really complain about that. He sang a new song, which sounded pretty good. Michel’s song Un kilo is pretty good too. Starts lame, like a lot of Maikel’s songs, and builds up a good head of steam, like a lot of Maikel’s songs.

The singers were pulling out all their best choreographed hip-swivelling moves. Trying to get in shape for the US tour which starts any day now. Think they only have a couple more shows here before they go. Things didn’t always go off without a hitch but everyone was bumbling around and laughing - even Yordis. You don’t often get a smile out of him. He is the Mandy Cantero of the Havana salsa scene right now. He did a beautiful solo turn on the intro of Sali a buscarla (formerly known as Arriba lo mal hecho); just him and Maikel on piano, which really showed off his singing chops. I don’t know whether his technique has improved or whether he just has never had a chance to show that he is a really solid singer, but he sounded great. The crowd (ie the girls) went wild.

I wish the tecnicos here would learn how to light these hot black guys. I took a million pics of him and hardly any of them worked. Got plenty of good ones of Michel, Yasser and the Shetland Pony, but the hottest guy of the bunch - and the best singer - is just a shadow looming in the foreground. Sigh.

Ailyn (centre-ish) and her peeps.

Salsa Mayor was my second visit to Galiano in one day. I’d had a tough week and hadn’t seen any music since Monday, plus: Ailyn with Bamboleo. She’s a cure for what ails you. Jaja: Ailyn, a cure for what ails ya. She should trademark that.

I was hanging at the door waiting for a Cuban friend to change CUC into MN when Ailyn arrived, in hotpants, Helmet Newton heels, a ruffled shirt and a milkmaid wonderbra that looked like it was about to burst.

There was reggaeton inside. Boo. The last few gigs I’ve been to have been all salsa beforehand, so I guess my luck had to run out at some point. When the CdlM theme song came on (riquisima!) there was a rush to leave the dancefloor, except for one line of girls that formed a barricade in front of the stage. Boo, again. Managed to inch my way in at some point.

Ailyn remembered our last conversation and when she ran through the rollcall of countries the first up was “la gente de Australia!” She turned to Lazaro and said, Lazarito, la gente de Australia! He was looking elsewhere and not listening at all. She tried twice more with the same result then she turned to me and we both shrugged and she moved on. Mexico! Italia! In English, she asked, Where are you from? to a group of people in front of the stage. “Centro Habana!” they yelled.

Lazarito may no longer be engaged with his pueblo, but his singers certainly are. The blonde guy that isn’t Rodney is not very memorable but the other three are all pretty great. The band had ditched the funk-piece that went down like a lead balloon the last time I saw them, but still had the ballads. I went to buy water during the Que lastima song and when I came back found Ailyn sitting on the steps surrounded by her fans singing along. It was quite a scene. The duet was next. Well Ailyn makes it entertaining.

The sound system sounded like it was about to bust but held for the duration and there isn’t really much more to say except that my spirits were lifted and a good time was had by all. Will try and see them again at Miramar for the Sunday matinee seeing as my time here is almost at an end. I’ve brought forward my departure by a week. Don’t ask; I’m not going into details. My dearest wish right now is that HdP will return from Venezuela in time to play on Tuesday so I can see them once more before I go.

Havana rain

2011-09-28T01:59:00.003+10:00

You know that rule I have that says that if a band you want to see is playing twice you have to take the first opportunity to see them because you won’t make it to the second? Yeah that one. Bamboleo were playing Saturday night and Sunday afternoon. I’d been crook most of last week and was exhausted Saturday so we put off Bamboleo, who playing that night, for their matinee the next day. Sunday it started raining about 2pm and it didn’t stop until after 7. Normally not a big deal but I’ve been on Calle 20 when it’s been pissing down (you can probably find the post on it if you search Charanga Forever) and I have no desire to find myself in the same boat (boat! geddit?!) again. So … Revé was on in Miramar that night but I was so dispirited that I couldn’t summon up the energy to find, then fight with, a taxi driver on the way out there, so I just went to bed with my Fred Vargas book. I know, that’s just so shocking. I never passed up a Revé gig before. I thought I would regret it the next day, but actually I didn’t. That’s kind of shocking too.

Azucar Negra were on at Galiano, but the Smoke Monstress said, “don’t they have a singer you hate?” Oh yeah. (Pavel) I want to see new girl singer Ingrid, but matinee want to see, not 1am-3am want to see.

The Trabuco gig at Galiano on Monday was pretty jumping. With Haila at La Tropical washed out, and I imagine small attendances at Bamboleo and Tanya (at Galiano) for the same reason, I guess people were keen to cut loose. Trabuco were working the extended stage again. I’m in two minds about it. It’s good for the singers but it relegates the band to backing musicians. They did the Alexander song again, and although my video is in focus this time, the sound is a bit shitty. I asked Chino, the bajista, if they had recorded it yet: he said everything except the metales. He said, why, do you want to take it with you? Yes! Good song. He scarpers to the Habana Libre after every Monday matinee as he has a jazz gig there. Lucky him. Riveron was still absent. I forgot to get an update but if he’s still off, it looks like it’s probably pneumonia again. I think that’s a relapsey thing. Jeez. Also Miguelito is still away; still in Canada I guess. They did Control. Erk. I had one week without it. I should be grateful.

Trabuco are doing Miramar instead of Havana D’Primera today (Tuesday) because they are going to Venezuela. That’s one of the saddest sentences I have every written. Kola Loka are doing a matinee larga at Galiano. That’s actually the saddest. Still listening to Disco Fiesta but seems like there are slim pickings for the next couple of days.

Azucar Negra are doing a matinee at Miramar on Thursday so, Pavel or no, I’ll go to that, and Bamboleo are at my local on Friday with Salsa Mayor there on Friday night. That must be among their last gigs before they go to the US.

Tales from Centro Habana

2011-09-26T06:30:00.002+10:00

Combinacion de la Habana: Johnny (front) and Yuri (background).

The terrifying doberman that lives on the first floor has returned. It has been absent since I’ve been here this time and I figured that since the first floor is now a love hotel (rooms by the hour), they got rid of it so it wouldn’t scare the shit out of the customers and ruin the romancesphere. But there it was, when I looked down into the patio, barking it’s fucking head off. It used to lie in wait as you trudged up the stairs, then greet you as you arrived at level 1 with a great big woof-woof or 200. I used to dread the gate being open, which it sometimes was and try and make myself as small as possible in the hope that it would think I wasn’t worthy of an attack..

I woke feeling lethargic. Couldn’t seem to shake the lurgy. Or maybe it was that I’d eaten nothing more than a bowl of rice a day since Tuesday, and sometimes less. But my stomach was still dicey. I’d had a glass of yoghurt and some coffee. I’d have to be at death’s door to give up the latter.

Listened to Disco Fiesta, as I’d had a visitor on Friday when they were reading out the weekend listings and missed some, but everything seemed as I had planned. The Smoke Monstress wanted to see Bamboleo again before she left, but didn’t think I could get out to Miramar for the night so we settled on Combinacion de la Habana for the matinee, and decided to do Bamboleo at Miramar for the tarde tomorrow. Of course that means two trips to Miramar in one day cause Reve is there for the night, but … I was hoping I would feel better by then. I flopped around on the bed and practically lapsed in and out of consciousness, blissful rest interrupted only by piercing screams of a girl after she was nipped on the leg by the poor Pekingese that is tied up day in day out on the terrace here.

Duni came around and told me hilarious tales of Los Que Son Son’s adventures in El Oriente, all of it unpublishable if I want him to keep his job. Something he did say that I can repeat is that their moronic hit Loco con una moto has brought them a much younger crowd, all of whom spend the whole show waiting to hear that and the other new song Yo no te dejé por mala (or La loca, as it’s also known). Heh. He also said the young ladies love El Noro and were mobbing him. Jeez. He said it was like “los bit-less”. Took me a while to figure out he meant The Beatles.

The Smoke Monstress and I were off for the Combinacion de la Habana matinee at Galiano. That’s the most fun you can have in Havana on a Saturday arvo/evening I reckon. I love it.

I meant to say in my post about Revé that my theory about the extended stage and the pitted dancefloor was way off base as it hasn’t been fixed and Revé didn’t use it, and CdlH didn’t have it this week either. It’s better without it, even if there is the risk of falling over and breaking your neck. Hey a life half-lived or whatever.

The band have a couple of new songs and they are swinging. One in particular makes great use of the brass, deploying it in a funky manner for the duration of the song instead of just for the mambos etc. I got some video but it’s Galiano, so don’t hold your breath. They’re doing an anniversary show at La Tropical but it’s three days after I leave, so, wah-wah. I asked Gerson, the “director-general” of the band (as opposed to Eugenio, who is the musical director) when they would be making a CD, and he shrugged. He said they’ve signed contracts to go to Peru and Italy but that’s as far as it’s gone. He shrugged again and said, son pasos, they’re steps.

He spent the new songs with his back to the audience directing the band and, it seemed, the baterista in particular. I don’t know if he’s new and I forgot to ask. Johnny, the former Azucar Negra singer who has replaced Ricardito only has one song right now. I guess he’s only been there a month. He does a pretty good job. He’s got that retro Havana cantante look going on - blonde tips, plenty of bling and a penchant for opening his shirt to the waist. The other singers seem to have ditched the D&G diamante shirts for a preppier look. It’s a definite improvement. They’re still all wearing outrageous trainers though. (Should have seen the Tumbao Havana guys - oh, the sponsorship opportunities these guys are missing out on. It’s heartbreaking.)

Ricardito actually turned up - he was looking pretty preppy too, in a striped pale blue shirt - and got up on stage for a turn. By the time the band had finished he had gone though, so I didn’t get a chance to catch up with him.

Afterwards, I was going to try and eat something - if only soup and flan. I went to my favourite paladar - the Cristobal on San Rafael where the chef/owner says I’m part of the “collectivo”. Unfortunately my chicken soup was so salty I couldn’t eat it. He took it away and gave me some more. Also too salty, but the second time I just dumped the juice of half a lime into it and it became more or less palatable. Followed it with flan. I wasn’t sick after. Yay! Maybe I can eat a proper meal soon. He has a half-decent steak there.

Elito at last

2011-09-25T13:23:00.005+10:00

Finally got to see Elito Revé. [Wild applause] My stomach was still bugging me but I took a pill and got down there. I only have about two and half weeks more and I can’t afford to squander any more opportunities.
We got down there about 12.30 and as with the last few night gigs we had caught we didn’t have long to wait: they went on at about 12.45, so this is starting to look like a policy. Again, it was busy but not packed, which I guess is a summer thing. The only packed gigs so far have been Havana D’Primera’s matinees, Reve at La Tropical (also a matinee) and (I’m guessing, cause I didn’t go), Charanga Habanera at La Cecilia last weekend.
There was a bunch of tall skinny black girls in formal wear there - some sports team celebrating something? - and as soon as the band came on they ran down the front and pretty much formed a barricade. I managed to find one spot down in a corner, but I was still in danger of being sliced to death by this girl’s elbows.
Revé seem to have a new tresero. Does anyone know about this? Maybe the previous one, Jorge Luis, has found that making treses is more lucrative than playing them. Or maybe he’s in Sweden or something. Otherwise it’s the same line-up. The Smoke Monstress was fascinated by Elito’s progeny Gretchen, and her bored countenance and gum-chewing demeanour. She was sporting an unflattering flat hair style. The Monstress got some video of her looking bored. That’s pretty funny.
They started with De que estamos hablando, and except for doing Se sigue comentando in its entirety instead of a tiny bit as a sign-off, everything was from the last album. They have no new songs except for Jala jala, which they were working on when I was here last time. Thankfully, Cristian y Rey were not in the audience to get up and sing. Michel from Salsa Mayor was, and got up for … uh, OK. Now I forget. Jannier from HdP was there too, up the back by the bar. I don’t think he moved all night. He told me his wife works there so he was just hanging out with her.
Bustamante, the ubiquitous dancer who married an inglesa when I was here last year and has returned, was there and got up on stage as is his wont. I told the Monstress when I see him I think of the phrase, “dance like no one’s watching” only in his case it’s “if no one’s watching, then I mustn’t be dancing”. Kind of a variation on “if a tree falls in the woods …” I guess.
Anyway, Revé played for almost two hours - probably the longest set I’ve seen by anyone here. Part of that was Ya sé cantar, where Suzell does her little interaction with the audience, and part of it was Agua pa Yemayá where they go through the dances of all the major orishas and get people up to dance them. I was sitting down by then, and praying for monotheism. Oh I’m such a curmudgeon.
The cintura contest arrived a little early - maybe three songs in - just two girls and one guy, with another guy excitedly running to join in when saw a sandwich had been created. The Monstress was kind of dumbfounded (she considered videoing it but decided that film wouldn’t do it justice) but it was pretty chaste considering the near-orgy I’d witnessed with Revé in Trinidad last year.
Someone gestured for Dagoberto to come and take a note and he wrangled a beer in exchange. He didn’t end up making an announcement so maybe it was of a private nature.
They’re still doing Chichi. Can’t wait till that novelty song is relegated to a footnote of musical history as novelty songs inevitably are.
Idiosyncratic quibbles aside, they sounded great as usual. Still think they have the best singing line-up in town.
They’re on again on Sunday (yay!) at Miramar (boo!). BTW Cafe Cantante has had nothing at all worth going to this trip. It’s all reggaeton and pop - practically no salsa at all. Galiano too, is all clogged up many days with PMMs and PMM Lites. I don’t know what’s going on but it’s irritating. Hope I don’t have to move out to Calle 0. That would be a drag. I like Centro.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Before Revé, we went to the Gran Teatro for the ballet. The cartelera had said Alicia Alonso, as it turned out she hadn’t choreographed any of it, and I don’t know, maybe she doesn’t choreograph anything these days. It was five pieces, which meant we had to clap a lot and wait while bunches of flowers were given out after each performances (except for the last two for some reason). Inexplicably, recorded music was used for all but the last, when the orchestra suddenly showed up. I don’t know why you would bring them just to play one piece. Still, better to have them there for one piece than not at all.
The technicality of the dancing was outstanding throughout, as usual (there wasn’t even too much of my bugbear; dancers being out of sync, though there was a tiny bit of that), but some of the concepts were, quite frankly odious. The first Dionaea (yes, I bought a program: $1CUC for a photocopied piece of paper), had a lovely set and the dancers forming a layered bud of a flower but its premise of women as a carnivorous plant and men as hapless insect fodder was just another version of all those moronic reggaeton/CH lyrics that accuse women of chewing men up and spitting them. The second piece, Muñecos, had an even more horrific representation of gender cliches, and was at once tritely comic and sentimental. “Repugnant,” said the Smoke Monstress.
The next, an extreno mundial (how nice) was my favourite of the night. There was no story to speak of (dance without story maybe my favourite kind of dance) and there was just a TS Eliot quote in the program: “Solo vivimos, solo suspiramos / consumidos por uno u otro fuego.” It was beautifully choreographed: every step fit perfectly to each note of the Scherzo of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9. The dancers wore plain fleshcoloured bodysuits; the backdrop was a simple kind of abstract tie-died orange and the stage was bathed in a golden glow. It was delightful. As I watched the gorgeous movements and listened to Beethoven’s lovely music I remember thinking: I could watch this all night. The choreography was Laura Domingo Aguero.
Intermission, then a piece called Tiempo de Danzon, which had a spectacular opening of a couple dancing behind an almost opaque scrim, so that we saw just shadows. When it parted, what we got was a large group of dancers (30?) in blue jeans and red leotards and pointe shoes (girls) and black t-shirts (boys) dancing in couples what was, well not really much danzon. Bits of classical and jazz ballet I guess but it was still quite a lot of fun.
Majísimo was described as a “divertimento”. That was pretty spot on. It was a trifle but it was pretty. “Un contrapunto entre aires hispanicos y la tecnica del ballet clasico”. The ladies got to wear lovely ruffled dresses and the chaps, in coloured satin toreodor jackets, got to show of the dancing chops, leaping around the stage. Some of the ladies showed off some chops too, piroeutting madly, although the one who impressed me was the blonde who was able to go up on pointe on one leg and stay there without the aid of a partner. That’s some strong legs right there.
By 10pm it was over and it was time to stroll home and read a bit of my awesome Fred Vargas novel before going down to Galiano.
Walking up San Rafael we passed a house with a bunch of guys singing and dancing along to a reggaeton song: “Sexo, yo quiero sexo”. Wow, how long did it take to think up that one?

Hasta las afueras

2011-09-24T03:12:00.002+10:00

So.
I went down to the Centro de Negocios in Habana Vieja, near the big feria on the port, where I have gone to renew my visa for the last few years since it moved from the military compound in Nuevo Vedado. (Actually there was a brief intermediate period in a beautiful rundown building with moorish tiles on Aguacate where I was able to stroll in and out again immediately, but that was only for one year.)
It was ominously quiet and when I told the guy on the desk why I was there he shook his head and said I had to go to Reparto Flores, “Where?” asked Martin, when I told him later. “Exactly. You know that fair that is on in December? Way out past there. It’s on 186th.” Martin lives on Calle Zero, to give you some idea.
I’ve had a stomach virus for the last couple of days, so, great. Just what I needed. My taxi driver had waited - it seemed he already knew, and was relishing the $20CUC fare he was about to get. I was so debilitated in mind and body, and so keen to get the fucking thing over and done with, that I was just glad I didn’t have to think about finding another cab or worrying if I should be frugal and figure out which maquinas went out there.
Out at the compound I told a uniformed guy standing by a table of forms that I was there to renew my visa. He said, do you have stamps worth $25CUC? I said yes. He seemed surprised. Do you have you insurance? Yes, I said. More disbelief. I’ve done this so many times, I bring everything now. He forgot to ask if I had my rent receipts, but I’ve gone home before because I didn’t have them on me, so you better believe they were tucked inside my passport too. There were two queues, both under corrugated metal roofs. He directed me towards one. I had no idea how it would play out. Previously, at the Centro a woman collected your passport as you arrived, then eventually called your name. This was like the bad old days of Nuevo Vedado when a gaggle of people would wait and basically just fight to jump in first (in the end, the old “el ultimo” often doesn’t count for much).
Fortunately there was a very kind foreigner there who explained - in Spanish - that I should wait till they called. I said how can they call me if they don’t know my name? He said, they’ll say “el proximo”. OK. Quite a few people were waiting for stamps - I guess their other halfs had gone the 40 blocks or so to the nearest bank to get them, so that put them out for the next call, which came not too long after I sat down (about 30 minutes: that’s Cuban, for “not too long”).
Once I was inside being processed - there was no extra cola, I was relieved to see - I asked my processor if this move was temporary or permanent. She looked at my address (Centro Habana) and said, oh there are various offices - you could go to 17 and K (in Vedado).
WHAT THE FUCK?
Thanks Old Man in Habana Vieja for sending me on a $20CUC cab ride, when I could have taken a 20-minute walk (from my house, at least).
Well, at least it was done. All these hoops are clearly designed to discourage backpacker style tourism in favour of 10-day stays in expensive hotels. What the government here needs to realise, is that if they make all this easier, they can have both types of tourism, and make more money. Having more backpackers doesn’t mean less hotel stays; it just means more tourists in total. But if you make things difficult for them, they’ll just go to another country where it’s easier, like Canada, Australia, anywhere in Asia, other countries in Latin America - god knows, there is no shortage to choose from.
Later in the day I had to go out to Playa again, this time to pick up some money the wonderful Maribelle at the Canadian Embassy had organised to have transferred to me. I was pissed off at having to go out there again, but relieved to get the money and it was great fun to talk to her. She was interested to hear about the immigration offices, as they never have any idea. Nice to know I’m not the only one in the dark.
The two trips, along with my stomach bug, meant I wouldn’t be going to see Azucar Negra at CdlM Miramar, though HdP later in the evening is tempting. Last chance to see them and all that. I missed Tumbao Havana on Wednesday because the stomach thing was nasty and because there was a kick-ass storm that flooded the apartment and, no doubt, Calle 20 too.
Well, at least I saw them once. Think that is the mantra for this trip.

My last chance to see Havana D’Primera before they went to Venezuela (they have a gig at Varadero on Saturday but I don’t think I can get up to Matanzas) was a weird one.
I saw Alexander out the front and asked him when they left (Tuesday) and how long they’d be away. He said, “No, no, solo una semana.” Jaja - he knows me! So I’ll still be here! Should be able to see them one more time at least. I live to see that band. Bit of a problem when I’m back in Australia. I made sure I was leaving on a Wednesday so I could see one last HdP matinee. I am, as they would say back home or in Britain, a Havana D’Primera tragic.
I asked him if they had recorded Nadie sabe nada yet, because that song rocks my world and I think he said yes, but I was so surprised at the answer that I’m not sure I heard it right. I asked the Smoke Monstress for confirmation, but her mind had been elsewhere and she hadn’t heard. Once we were inside I told DJ Mandy and he said, well if you get it, think of me, I love that song! I said, of course, but I imagine if he doesn’t have it yet, then I probably misunderstood. I asked he if he had heard the Trabuco song written by Alex. He said, Es buenisimo! He’s an Alexander tragic as well.
Inside, the Casa seemed the usual busy Thursday night but once the band got going it was clear that things were a little different. I scooted right down the front as usual - you have to claim your territory, cause if someone else gets in there it can be hard to mark out a space - but in this case I needn’t have worried. Although the nights are nowhere near as lively as the matinees, usually Alexander and the band have people up dancing all through the set. Not tonight. Oh there were people dancing, but halfway back in the lane between the two sets of tables and chairs. At times people would get up then SIT BACK DOWN. Wait - what?
Alexander didn’t seem so bothered at first and attacked the set with his usual gusto but at some point gave up and left the stage after an hour and 15 minutes.
They started with Solo para ti - practice for Venezuela, I’m imagine. Their sets here have been almost all new songs and I’m guessing they don’t want to do that out of the country. It was a little ropey, as it always is when they haven’t played it for a while. That ended up being the only old song. I guess they would have done more, if they had hung around longer. Honestly more old songs might have played better to the crowd but then they might not have.
I enjoyed it as always but not sure the same can be said of some band members. Rodney gave a ginormous yawn at one point. They had a lot of sound problems: Jannier’s foldback wasn’t working at all for the entire gig I don’t think; the coros didn’t suffer at all. It always amazes me that bands that play the same venues week after week - sometimes multiple times a week - can have sound problems. Do things change that much on a day-to-day basis?
When the band wrapped up, Mandy put on some massively obnoxious tropical house samba thing and a huge portion of the audience finally got up off the arses and onto the dance floor.
Outraged doesn’t even cover it. This is the kind of poor behaviour one sees in my country.
We fled.
Tomorrow: the ballet and La Reve, just to cover all the cultural bases.

Havana fit

2011-09-22T02:13:00.000+10:00

Left to right: HdP's Tony, Yandy and Rodney.

There is still no butter to be found anywhere. My favourite paladar has it but rations it: each diner gets a tiny little triangle. I asked them where they got it and they said the Hotel Deauville. Admittedly I haven’t been down there to look, but given the “two shop” rule (if two shops don’t have it; none will) I don’t really like my chances.
I went to get tickets for the ballet. I’ve probably written before that I pay the tourist price ($25CUC), which some people find outrageous, but lord knows I can’t see the ballet for that price (try five or six times that much) in Sydney, and if the Cuban price didn’t exist I think most people would consider it a bargain. One advantage: being able to skip the cola snaking down the street and saunter up to the tourist only window and walk away tickets in hand minutes later. Now I feel mean. Although god knows there are enough places tourists are treated like second class citizens: immigration, for instance, where they are consistently put behind each successive Cuban that arrives, and where I have to go tomorrow. I can hardly wait.
There were two other ballet productions on the carteleras advertised; one was a “programa concierto” which didn’t sound like dance, but was, according to the woman in the box office; and the other was a production of Dracula (!), choreographed by Laura Alonso; a relation of Alicia, I’m guessing. That could go either away. I’m a massive fan of the novel.
Swung by Marbis’s but she wasn’t home; there was only the dog barking excitedly at the door.

It was Tuesday: you know what that means. Havana D’Primera matinee. We left late for various reasons. I don’t do much all day and yet somehow ...
Corista Jannier was out the front talking to Trabuco’s trombonista Pipi. Pipi’s sister Marilyn was inside. Yesterday I’d seen her paying to get into Trabuco. I said, why do you have to pay when your brother is in the band? She said, well that’s just how things work here.
It was busy, as usual. Some band members were crammed into the tiny bar: tecladista Harrold, corista Enrique, pianista Tony.
I asked Alexander if he had written a song for Trabuco. He said, yes. I said, I heard it. He said, how did you know it was mine? I said, Amaray said so. Unfortunately the video I took of it didn’t turn out so well - the extended stage turned out to be a blessing and a curse. I’ll see if I can get a better copy before I leave.
I bought drinks, saw the MC preparing to get on stage and headed for a spot down the front.
Great gig. Air con still not fixed but it bothered me less. Guess I’m finally Havana-fit. It’s been good to have the full complement of musos in the band this trip, instead of suplentes. I mean they always have good stand-ins, but the band really fire together. It feels unfair to single anyone but holy shit Yaaaaaandy!!! He was really working that bass. He could make me do anything with that thing. Also props to Harrold on keyboards, working quietly in his dark corner with his sunnies on (!).
The set was pretty standard, with some random song thrown in that the band didn’t seem to know at first - they just looked at each and followed Alexander. I didn’t know it either, so don’t look at me. Nadie sabe nada was the accidental closer: a pair of rumberos got up and danced a bit - not too long; they didn’t outstay their welcome. Then Maykel Blanco got up - not to play keyboards unfortunately; but to spout some inanities into the microphone, including a coro that went “Alexander, Alexander”. Genius. Stick to the piano, shortie. It went long and suddenly it was 9pm and the house lights came on.
CH’s Helder was up the back, apparently in the same shirt as at the Trabuco matinee. Sharon had asked me earlier if I was going to see them at La Tropical on the weekend. I said, Oh god no! I fucking hate them. I didn’t mean to be so vitriolic. It just came out. CH + La Tropical on a Saturday night = Some kind of hell. Haila is doing the matinee on Sunday. That might be more civilised. As might Bamboleo at Miramar.
Alexander mentioned something about HdP going to Venezuela: nooooooooo! Don’t leave me!

Los metales del cariño

2011-09-21T01:54:00.003+10:00

Manolito y su Trabuco might have the best horn section in Havana. That’s kind of a big call. I mean, I know there isn’t actually a lot of competition out there - a lot of the horn sections here run to the ragged - but those that are good are sizzling. Like Havana D’Primera’s for instance. I wouldn’t want to deny those guys their props. I would have put Pupy’s in there once but now, without Chocolate (Canada) and Uyuni (HdP), I’m not so sure. I’ll have to hear Bamboleo’s again to know how theirs stacks up. People say La Charanga’s is good. I’ll have to take their word for it.
Galiano wasn’t that crowded for Trabuco’s habitual matinee. You know, not empty but a far cry from the melee at Christmas time. Of course none of the gigs have been that crowded, except HdP’s matinee. And Alain Daniel’s Capri, hilariously enough. Not sure how many of that crowd were there for the music though.
The DJ played all salsa which was awesome, especially as Trabuco didn’t come on until after 7.30.
Some of the professional dancers, Ramoncito et al, were there with a group of foreigners - maybe one reason why the DJ was playing salsa. The extended stage that Combinacion de la Habana had on Saturday was still in place and later on I wondered if it was there to cover up the gouged up tiles which I noticed on Friday night: they looked like a fatality waiting to happen.
There was all kinds of fancing rigging as well - for the night’s “Havana Show” - some kind of PMM thing I think with dancing girls and house music and lights and blah blah. Something I wouldn’t be going to.
Trabuco have recorded about six songs as demos for a new album (that I know of) and the show was all about roadtesting estrenos. Only La noche, Locos por me Habana and La Habana me llama were from the back catalogue; everything else was new. Oh wait, the one about doing stuff around the house (or not doing it), I think that’s from the last album. Amaray mumbled something before one song that sounded like “por Alexander Abreu”, so I whipped the camera out and hit record on the video. He might have meant Alexander Abreu de Sello LA. Jaja. I shall endeavour to find out. It was sung by Mayami, who was commiting his usual fashion crimes (see photo) and it sounded pretty good.
There is no doubt that Trabuco have a new sound, or nueva honda, as they say here sometimes. Of course they’ve had it for sometime - it’s just taken a while for me to let go of the old band and accept the new. Now that I don’t expect that much from them, I’m not as disappointed. There were still some things I hated in the repertoire, but there were some things I liked too, and I might like some other things more if I hear them again. I really hated La noche when I first heard it - and the inane lyrics still drive me insane (“fiesta” and “amanezca” do NOT rhyme; and just because Amaray has done it, that doesn’t make it all right, Mr P.F. Gallo) - but it surely does kick arse live. As I mentioned, the horns are pure joy, and they get a little boost from David Bencomo’s lovely flute.
There were guest appearances from Michel, the singer from Adalberto’s band - he’s been getting around and he’s pretty good, but not good enough to get me to Miramar on a Wednesday night; Charanga’s Helder on piano and a guiro player who I think is from Azucar Negra.
The band was missing Miguelito Pan con Salsa - in Canada conducting a workshop apparently - and Riveron, who is sick - again! Not sure what is wrong but I hope it isn’t pneumonia like last time and I hope he gets better soon. The eminently capable Andy Fornet of La Reve was sitting in on drums. What a country this is, when someone of Riveron’s calibre needs replacing, and the back-up is someone like Fornet. Jeez.

Bencomo and some pals were all hilariously drunk afterwards and ready to party something fierce but I was starving - truth be told, I'd been thinking about the tasting plate at my favourite local paladar pretty much all through the gig, so we slipped out of their clutches (quite literally) and skedaddled up to San Rafael.

Big fun

2011-09-20T02:17:00.002+10:00

Combinacion de la Habana with Eugenio on vocals.

Busy couple of days. That’s good I guess. Makes up for some of the time I lost trying to sort shit out and recover from the golpe of my arrival. In the last few days me and the Smoke Monstress have had the opportunity to see five different bands, all varying degrees of good.

Saturday, I finally got to the Combinacion de la Habana matinee at Galiano. The previous Saturday had been some special thing called “La comparsa de los feos” with a special deal for uni students and I thought it might be a little bit too crazy so I postponed it. Today it was busy but not crazy.
We had gone for an early dinner at the Hanoi, as I remembered the frijoles negros as being really good and the Monstress is a vegetarian (they weren’t that great, but the crispy-skinned pollo asado was fantastic; not so good for her but great for me!) and bumped into Reve’s Dagoberto in the street who told us they were playing on Galiano on Friday - yay! Hope nothing stops me from seeing them this time. It would blow to have to leave Havana Reve-less.
Anyway. By the time we got to Galiano, CdlH were already on stage - and what a stage it was: they had installed a massive extension over the stairs - like a catwalk but twice as wide. Don’t really know why. I mean the Galiano stage is big compared to some (Cafe Cantante, for instance), and if you use the stairs, which most singers do (Alexander never does) it brings you closer to the audience. Whatever. This brought the singers really close to their audience, which was mostly girls, in the front row anyway - the guys were all up the back getting drinking rum.
As is usual for CdlH, it was mostly Cubans cutting loose (not working) on a Saturday arvo. Good ambience. And the band sounded smoking. Really. Funky and pumping and full-bodied. It’s too bad they don’t seem to be able to replicate the sound in the studio: most of their recordings sound a little messy. I don’t know why. I was disappointed that my old mate Ricardito was missing from the line-up. In his place was a blanquito from Azucar Negra: he had always been under-used with them, I thought, so it’s no surprise he left. He’s not bad. Probably should have left his shirt buttoned up though.
Later on singer Julian told me Ricardito has gone back to Son Yoruba, which seems like an odd career choice. They’re gigging round town, so I’ll try and catch them, or I’ll go and bang on his door on Neptuno and have a chat.
CdlH didn’t seem to have any new songs, but man, they are so totally bailable. Had a great time, although the ending was marred by the appearance of some fully lame reggaetoneros whose name I didn’t get. Wow, they were just like, total frauds. Really bad.
The sexy pianista from Azucar Negra also got up for a guest spot as did a corista from Paulito’s band, sans shoes from some reason. I said to some chick next to me, what happened to his shoes? she said: he took them off! No shit, Sherlock. I guess it was a stupid question, but you know, it seemed so random. Her name was Nancy and before long she was laying all that jinetera (not in the prostitute sense, in the take-advantage-of-the-foreigner sense) shit on me: “I want you to come to my house and meet my family.” Jesus fucking christ why would I want to go to the house of a complete stranger and meet their family? I never understood why this is a pitch. Is the object to just completely derail you so you go into shock and go along with it?
Instead of saying: “I’d rather open a vein” I mumbled something vague then she said, where are you going after this? I said, oh we’re thinking of going to La Tropical. She wrinkled her nose in disgust (no foreigners there to exploit I guess) and said, Your friend said you were going to Dos Gardenias. Ah, Dos Gardenias, the place of mi gente, the farandula de Salon Rojo. I told her I would never go there ever. (Also the Smoke Monstress did not say that.) There was more that was distasteful - been a while since I had one of these encounters. They’re pretty standard when you’re a newbie, but my method of pretty much ignoring everyone all the time has served me well in recent years.
Hey, hay que cuidarse.

Last time I went to a night gig at La Tropical, the band went on at 11pm, so we went off to see Salsa Mayor about 10.30. Que lastima! When trombonista Omarcito greeted me, he said they weren’t on till midnight. Wah-wah. Recorded music was mainly reggaeton with Me mantengo. The dapper MC came over and got our details, then called our names out over the PA. Actually I thought that was cool. Come on, it’s La Tropical!
We sat on a cement ledge (such luxury!) fanning ourselves with a frond I had ripped from a plant (outrageous profligacy!) and by the time the band hit the stage, a bit after 12 I was so tired. They gussied up the stage with the MB logo and screens overhead, and an extended bit for the singers out the front. Yordi looked hot (a touch of the Idris Elbas, I said to the Smoke Monstress); the band sounded good as well. We were behind the brass section; Omarcito was doing little pirouettes, whirling his trombones as he went.
The didn’t seem to have anything new except for El Kilo, although we didn’t stay all night. We saw Anda pegate, La cara de salir pa anda, Que tu crees, Pa cualquiera (always sounds good). At one point Michel turned around and gave his girlfriend the finger cause she wouldn’t get him a beer/rum. She gave it right back to him. Interesting dynamic.
Then they had a cintura competition. Sigh.
First up was, oh dear. She had long dyed red hair pulled back into an almost waist length ponytail with an inch or two or grey showing at the scalp and she was wearing bright pink leggings and oh I don’t know what else. The bottom of her face had collapsed. I suspect she had no teeth. As soon as she jumped up she did the splits. Michel turned his back on the audience and mimicked her to the folks backstage. Pretty mean-spirited and kinda dumb too: just because you can’t see the audience doesn’t mean they can’t see you.
The problem of how to get home had been nagging at the back of my mind and it rose to the fore once the cintura comp got into full swing. I decided we should get going and start the search. As we walked down to Casa de la Musica a full bus outward bound from Havana swung around the corner on 41 and a bunch of people hanging out the windows yelled something unintelligible at us.
Saturday night in Havana.
At Casa de la Musica, Trabuco would have just been starting. We didn’t go in. I know, I know. How things have changed. But you know, matinee on Monday for $10 instead of $15, and I’m paying for two at the moment. And they have that fucking song out now that has cowbell all the way through it. What is this, fucking Cali?

Tumbao Havana: Maikel (left) and El Morro. Pascualito (background).

I’ve had a nagging sore throat, so I’d passed by the international pharmacy at the Sevilla to buy some vitamin C on Saturday. A sign in the window said it was open seven days but another one said it closed for fumigation. Inside I could see a woman sitting down, her elbow resting on the counter as she chatted to someone. Obviously not Spider-woman. On Sunday I went back and they had my favourite effervescent “Tropical” vitamin C tablets, then I went off to Marbis’s house to help her solve some Mac problems. (The Snow Leopard updates installed successfully on her MacBook, but SL went into negative minutes during installation on her iMac; still don’t know what that was about …)
We were off to a Tumbao Havana matinee at La Tropical. There was also Bamboleo at Miramar but I knew there would be plenty of other opportunities to see them and may be no others to see TH. I wasn’t sure I had the strength for La Tropical but I thought I should give it a shot. So glad I did.
A taxi was passing right by the casa as we exited it on the street. I love it when that happens. He put the meter on - first time this trip. I could see that the meters now tick over significantly more rapidly than they used to - it cost $6.50 to get to La Tropical from my place. It used to cost $5; even given that he took the long way round - via El Malecon - it probably wouldn’t have been much less than $6.
La Tropical was pretty quiet, which surprised me just a little. I mean I know Habaneros don’t rate TH, but there is usually a crowd for the Sunday matinee, just because it’s a Sunday, it’s an afternoon, and it’s super cheap. Still, it was probably not even a third full. (Salsa Mayor probably only had it at about half full the previous night. The Reve gig a couple of weeks back had been absolutely packed up to the back balcony, from what I saw on the news.)
I saw Abraham there, with a new fade - musical notes - etched into his hair. Totally hilarious. One of the other singers who I swear I don’t even know - the one who used to sing with Chispa - kept smiling at me and blowing me kisses. Perplexing but sweet.
We’d timed it a bit better this time. They started pretty soon after we arrived, but after the opening song Si tu quisieras saber, they all walked off - problems with the sound, apparently, although we were at the side of the stage and getting the same sound they were, presumably, and it sounded fine. Anyway, they were soon back. Abraham and El Morro (Reinier - the handsome one. The really, really handsome one) had been on Disco Fiesta saying they had some new songs (the host had thrown them by saying, and invitados? clearly there would be none, but El Morro quickly said, “sorpresas, sorpresas”), and so they did. One was about “la suegra mia” but I couldn’t catch enough of the lyrics to figure out if his mother-in-law was cool or otherwise (the odds are against her). Of the old songs there was Padrino - what a fucking monster song that is. Ay dios mio. Love it. Also there was Ella no tiene na and I think that was it. Unless there was something really old, cause I’m not so familiar with the stuff before Mambo duro except for Johanna. It was all good though: the brass was a occasionally ropey, which is normal for them, but the singers were full of energy and smiles, which are totally infectious and I was so glad I’d gone. I hope they play again. I was going to stick around to ask that same question but when they played the suegra song for the outro I decided we should hit the calle and look for transport. Alas, even Casa de la Miramar offered no help, as Bamboleo had finished some time before we got there - we’d seen musos with horns slung over the shoulders walking up the street -and almost all the taxis were gone. Ailyn was just walking out and I said, quick! Hide, so Ailyn doesn’t know I’ve been unfaithful to her. Jaja. Anyway, there was a pila de gente on 31 looking for cars, including one group of six. Good luck. Made it easy for us to get a maquina. We waited about one minute. Take that taxi drivers outside CdlM who want $10CUC!
One weird thing is that suddenly a whole bunch of the maquina choferes are young white guys with flat tops. What’s up with that?

Bam-bam-Bamboleo

2011-09-18T05:23:00.004+10:00

Wow. Bamboleo are a real band again, instead of a showcase for Tania Pantoja. There is still a showcase for Tania Pantoja, if that’s what you want - her own band plays, under her own name, about five times a week at various venues around town. Meanwhile, Lazarito Valdez has retrofitted Bamboleo to resemble the band of yore, with four singers in the front line - two boys, two girls - and musos all in matching outfits. The Smoke Monstress didn’t dig their yellow and shiny black plaid shirts, but as I am still traumatised by memories of Charanga Habanera in oversized lurex numbers from 1999, I think they looked pretty smart. The two boy singers were bleached blondes, dressed in white pants and shirts with black and silver waistcoats, book-ending the two girls, who wore steel-coloured satin minidresses. Ailyn was wearing to-die-for shoes - pink satin numbers with perspex heels filled with glitter (I would love a peek inside her shoe closet). Halfway through the show, the Smoke Monstress, who had never seen Ailyn before, turned to me and said: “I fucking love her.” That’s pretty much the usual response.

I had dicked around a little at home - in truth the water was off and I had been told it would come on at midnight but when the hour arrived and the water did not, I filled a bucket from one of the taps that magically still had water for some reason, and bathed with the aid of a cup. We got to Galiano about 12.45 and the band was already playing, with Rodney valiantly trying to get more than the four or so couples already dancing onto the floor. I skidded down to the front and Ailyn saw me and gave me a wave. Awwww.

The band sounded better than they looked. Full and funky. It was Ailyn’s turn on lead vocals next. The dance floor was full by the time she was finished. She came down those steps and urged everyone to get up off their asses and onto the floor and there aren’t many who can resists her charms. I don’t know many of Bamboleo’s songs so I can’t namecheck them - over the last decade I’ve probably seen them maybe three times; mainly because I never liked Tanya. The last time I enjoyed them was in Brooklyn’s Prospect Park when the line-up included Vania, Yordamis and Alain Daniel. That seems like some kind of parallel universe now.

Ailyn may not have opened the show, but she pretty much kept it rolling. I always thought it odd that Limonta had this dynamite weapon in his arsenal and yet often whenever I saw Azucar Negra, she would sing only three or four songs. Of course he had Dayan for a while too, who was pretty hot stuff. But I sometimes wondered if she didn’t want - or was unable - to sing more.

It’s clear now that neither of those is true. She sang the bulk of the set, with Rodney singing maybe three songs in total, and the other two singers relegated to coros only. It was a bit odd that she and the female corista were wearing matching dresses when clearly she was the lead singer.

I’ve written before about how warm and charming she is; about her ability to make you feel like you know her; like she is communicating directly to you. What I think I’ve neglected to point out is that part of charm lies in the expressiveness of her face, and her capacity for humour. She’s such a polished performer. As I watched her elicit audience responses, sing coros, despelote, joke with her fellow musos and sing some obnoxious ballads it occurred to me that the Galiano stage - and the Cuban scene - is really too small for her. She ought to be playing Latin American stadiums singing execrable pap to tens of thousands. She has that kind of charisma. Of course I would prefer that she stay here.

When Lazarito got out the keytar, I got nervous; and with good reason. It was time for a couple of big old power ballads; first a duet, then the Cristal song that one day I will learn the name of. The Smoke Monstress thought it was hilarious. She has video if you’re interested. They came back with a funky jam that riffed on Come Together - slightly dodgy but played so well that it was hard to quibble.

They did Ya no hace falta which I will never get tired of; and Gloria, which I guess is one of the first songs Ailyn has recorded with the band. It’s a bit of a weird one, kind of doesn’t really go anywhere, and I hope she gets some better material to work with.

At the moment the band might be better than the material it has to work with. They were tight, with kick arse brass and excellent bass. Lazaro has some good grooves but I don’t know if there is much more than that. I’ll be going to see them again anyway. There is enough there to dance to; and with Ailyn, there is always something to delight.

Trabuco’s Amaray was there and got up for a little turn, as did Maikel Blanco, although he didn’t get an introduction. Emilio from Revé was there at the end of the night too. Didn’t see his squeeze Gretchen. It wasn’t really busy but it was busy enough for me.

I waited to see Ailyn at the end. That’s a tough gig. Everyone wants a piece of her. She knows me but thought I was from France. When I said, no, Australia, her eyes widened. When I said I never used to go and see Bamboleo because I didn’t like Tanya, they widened some more. I said, but you know I have to come now, because I’m a follower of yours. She said, “I know.”

hashtag LOL

I said how do you feel with Bamboleo? She said “Fantastico.”

I can imagine.

* Apologies for the screengrab. Some idiot (me) forgot to put an SD card in her camera.

Rojo-faced

2011-09-17T07:21:00.001+10:00

Havana D’Primera had been on the cartelera for Thursday night at Miramar, but when Thursday arrived, “mi tio” on Disco Fiesta told me it would be Azucar Negra, who I want to see, but I don’t want to trek-out-to-Miramar-at-night see. He also reminded me that Alain Daniel was on at Salon Rojo as he is every Thursday. (Salon Rojo never used to be included in the Disco Fiesta guia bailable.) There was nothing at all anywhere else either in the afternoon or at night (Galiano is mostly cerrados and PMMs all week for some reason) and

I thought, well the next few Thursdays I’m here there’ll probably be something else I want to do, because even though Alain has a great band, if there is any kind of alternative to that awful crowd, usually I’ll take it.

I spent the day doing not that much - hey, that’s what holidays are for! - then cooked up a vegetarian stir-fried rice thing for the recently arrived Smoke Monstress and we (re)watched a couple of episodes of Game of Thrones before sallying forth about 12.30. I didn’t want to get there too early because reggaeton + capri crowd = trauma and the P6 helped us out by keeping us waiting on the street for a good 20 minutes. Actually I was hoping for the P9 which would take us to Coppelia - I didn’t really know where the P6 would go, and it only took us to the uni, so we had a bit of a walk, but as it turned out, even though we got there at 1, we still had a bit of a wait. The place was heaving with pushed up bosoms. Many more working girls than clients, sadly for them. The air con was working, but it didn’t feel like it. It was every bit as awful as I had remembered even though it’s been at least a year since I went.

Edith Massola, with ironed hair and a long, loosely belted shirt to disguise, I assume an imperfect body and showcase pretty good legs, came out to do her schtick after the video played the casa’s theme song (that’s new) by the obnoxious Francis Del Rio (how fucking appropriate). Her “gente de [insert country here] followed by [play anthem and/or hit from country while Edith dances]” schtick seemed interminable. Probably went for at least 20 minutes (come on that’s interminable), but the Smoke Monstress, having never seen it, thought it was pretty funny.

A few of Alain’s musicos wandered out while she was still going - the guitarist with the tatts who looks like he’s from a try-hard indie band, the bajista and the pianista/tecladista. I was disappointed to see the latter was not the perky guy of previous years who always sings along to every word and dances his arse off, but when the band arrived, he walked to the front of the stage and took up a position as a corista. The blonde coristas have gone, but so have lots of others; there were only about four members that I could say for certain that I have seen before.

One of the coristas - who was actually very good - was the GF of Alain’s representante; so one of those couples broke up - love to know which one it was: the representante and Alain, or the corista and the representante? Hey kids, don’t mix business and pleasure!

They opened with a slick jazzy instrumental number then Alain arrived in sunnies and a gorgeous midnight blue silk velvet jacket. I thought we had a pretty good spot, then this dickhead dressed in oranged slid his chair back into me and started shuffling around, and brought some more girls to his table - turned out he was a procurer of sorts for a foreign guy and his literally 15 year old son, who had the zombified you get when you’re totally wasted and on the point of throwing up. One of the girls had a mane of long hair she kept flicking from side to side. I felt like I was being whipped by a dead cat. That was happening in front of me. Behind me was the usual procession of people going I don’t know fucking where, pushing me in the opposite direction; it’s like being buffeted by some particularly pernicious wind.

For once Juan Guillermo, the son of the revolutionary (whose name I forget right now), who was a fixture at a table at the front for many years, wasn’t there - I guess now that he has a band of his own (JG), he has better things to do …? Yaeco’ Forever was there though. Without a table. And Randy Charanga.

The band was totally rocking - his band always sounds great no matter what the line-up is. Don’t really know how he manages it. Have no idea who the musical director is. I can’t pick anyone from the current line-up as the obvious choice. Didn’t really know any of the songs apart from Esa muchacha and Que vida mas loca - the material seemed a little derivative to be honest or maybe it was the crowd getting me down. After orange guy went off somewhere then pushed me out of the way to get back into his spot I was over it.

After I snapped some pics, I moved back a bit, but the tiled floor, which has replaced that utterly disgusting carpet was pretty hard on the feet and I felt I’d had on the feet and we left a bit after 2. Richard, my bouncer friend on the door, said: Leaving already? I said, those people are the rudest people in the world. He laughed. I said, dude, I’m serious. He has to work there every night. Of course they are scared of him, because he decides who gets in and who doesn't, so they have to be obsequious. It’s actually pretty funny to hang out with him for an hour or so and watch them all come in, crawling to him. Actually it’s not that funny. It’s kind of pathetic. And creepy.

Friday, maybe a Klimax matinee at Miramar. Maybe not. Piloto has been on Disco Fiesta promoting it all week, even though they do it every week. I think he has some drumming thing on this week, which could mean it’s a good day to go; or a bad day to go. Bamboleo is at Galiano. I think that’s a definite. Well I say that now.

Salsa Mayor is at La Tropical tomorrow night but I don’t know that I like them enough to go out to 41 on a Saturday night with no transport back at 1am.

Oddly the one I’m really looking forward to is Tumbao Havana for the Sunday Tropical matinee. Singers Reinier and Abraham (or Uhbrum, as they call him) were just spruiking it on Disco Fiesta).

Oh jesus I’ve just heard that Alain is playing El Jhonny on Sunday. That place is apparently basically a brothel. He pretty much only plays the Rojo, and when he does play somewhere else (Dos Gardenias, El Jhonny) it’s somewhere just as hideous. Dude, do your bit for el pueblo. Get your arse up to La Tropical.

There is no sign of Revé this weekend. That’s a major bummer.

Havana heat stroke

2011-09-15T02:19:00.002+10:00

Timbalero extraordinaire Rodney Barretto can add to his many talents the ability to drum with one hand and scull a beer with the other; literally without missing a beat. Comes in handy when the air-con is broken and you’re dying of dehydration.
It was my first Havana D’Primera matinee this trip because the duel nacional cancelled last week’s and because I was told that it wasn’t happening the week before because Alexander wouldn’t get back in time from Peru or wherever he was, but apparently he did, and I didn’t know, and I missed it. (gah)
Anyway. It was fucking crazy. Van Van were billed to play last week to celebrate Alexander’s birthday - imagine the locura! - and couldn’t make it this week cause they were leaving for the US. Seriously, it was heaving without them.
There were some notables in the audience - don’t remember all the names, Maikel Blanco and an SM cantante (not Yasser this time, but I forget who) Chispa, sans complices, Trabuco’s El Chino, with a compatriot from Camaguey, a trombonista from Klimax whose name I didn’t catch. Probably some others too, but I got there late because I was on the phone to my useless bank in Australia still trying to get my replacement credit card. It’s being held hostage by DHL in Argentine for some reason and the guy at my bank didn’t think I’d be able to get it from them (WTF?) so instead he said, we’ll get you an emergency replacement, hold on while I put you through to Visa, they have offices in every country. Well when he put me through and I heard the American accent I just laughed. Conversation went something like this:
Visa rep: What country are you in ma’am?
Me: Cuba.
VR: [Silence] Will you be in another country?
Me: No. I’ll be here till October 12 then I’m going home.
VR: OK, well I can’t help you with that. [Brightly] Is there anything else I can help you with?
Me: [hollow laugh]

Anyway. I got to Miramar at 7-ish and saw a spot down the front and nabbed it. I’m pretty happy with the sets they’re doing - they do the core of new songs that I’ve been writing about: the two songs you can buy on their own on itunes, and Al final de la vida that is on that Planet Records compilation, plus the two unrecorded ones, then they throw in one or two from the album - Historia Verdadera or Cuando el Rio Suena or Ahora que buscas - there has been no sign of my two least favourites, Ony Ony or Niña bonita so far, so it’s all good as far as I’m concerned. Me siento happy.
The only thing that didn’t make me happy was the heat. It’s hot enough when the place is only half full of jinteras on a Thursday night but llena de gente bailando jesus. There is also the matter of an actual lack of oxygen. I don’t fucking know how the musos keep going. I guess they’re getting paid. And drinking beer.
Miguel the Buccanero “girl” was there - he wears an outlandish folkloric-style costume with an oversized head. He must have been dying in there. Crowd was pretty well-behaved. Lots of Cubans just totally digging it without feeling the need to give anyone else the shits. That’s like, wow. Maybe Alexander draws a better behaved crowd than, I don’t know, Alain Daniel or Bamboleo. Maybe the heat just sapped everyone’s energy.
I thought the band would do one of their short sets but no, Tuesday matinees it’s Alexander’s house, and he wanted to go to the bitter end. I wanted to go out into the street and look for a maquina. I had a headache from dehydration. The house lights were on when I left but the band was still going. Alex had played trumpet for the first time this trip - normally he doesn’t even bother to bring it but today he’d had the mic set up in preparation. They segued from Historia Verdadera to Cuando el rio suena via a Barretto solo and eventual trumpet solo with the band - that is, Yandy on bass, Tony on piano, Harrold on keyboard, Rodney on drums and Napoles on guitar, playing a solid groove that I had never heard them play before but sounded really familiar. Shades of Master Blaster without the Jamaican overtones if that makes any sense (I know it doesn’t it). It was a bit look-at-me jazz but it was at was still pretty good. It made me look.
When I left, none of the cluster of chofferes in the street shouted “taxi?” at me. It was either the low-cut top, the short denim skirt or some combination of both. When I had arrived the guy in the caja had said “eres cubana?” And I had said, “Como?” Then he took my $20 CUC and gave me 10 back, instead of charging me $100MN (half price).
D’oh!!!

Saturday in San Rafael

2011-09-11T01:39:00.000+10:00

[Updated]

Havana D’Primera are in Varadero tonight. I’m in Havana. That doesn’t seem right somehow. I probably could have invited myself onto the bus. That didn’t seem right somehow. One of the HdP massive told me they were all going and I didn’t want to take a seat from one of them - not that I necessarily would have - plus, los conozco, but I’m not like best buds with any of them - like I am with Duni for instance. And it’s always a bit weird to be on the bus if you don’t really know anyone well. You have to sit next to someone desconocido for the 90 minutes or whatever it is, and with my shit Spanish (do NOT ask me why I’m not fluent by now. Do. Not.) it’s always a bit awkward. Especially when it’s El Nene and he’s shitfaced on rum and demanding kisses. OK, that’s another story which I may or may not have blogged two trips ago. Don’t think anyone in HdP would be doing that. At least no one comes to mind, anyway.

I got to see them last night, anyway, at Galiano. (You’d think two nights in a row would be enough.) It was busy but not crowded. Pretty perfect for me but probably not as busy as Alexander would have liked. I had a lovely dance with a gent to Parece mentira before they came on. He had a lovely lead. But then the DJ played Bailando en La Tropical and I was forved to leave the dance floor. It was nice that he played all salsa though. Gratifyng to see the Cubans flood the dancefloor for Me mantengo.
The band came on early - before 1, maybe 12.45. The HdP massive wasn’t there, so I was able to get a spot right down the front in the centre. Perfect. It was La Rubia was supposed to be there - it was her last chance to see them - but she was a no show. No surprises in the set, except for a version of Despues de un beso which went for about four days. Nice song and everything but I can think of other songs I’d like to give some to. Don’t know what happened. Alex just got into some kind of groove.
Have become obsessed with Nadie sabe nada (may have called it No sabe nada before - that’s not right). That song is amazing. If you haven’t gone to youtube to check it out; do it now (or at least after you read this post). It’s an exciting - and canny - blend of rumba, jazz, NY salsa and timba. The big band horns blaze and the tricky accents in the verses add a frisson of excitement (pretty sure now that Yandy and Tony aren’t shooting the shit in those sections; think Yandy is guiding Tony through it for some reason; maybe he has just returned from a Varela tour or something).
Maikel Blanco got up onstage to do a little back and forth. Yasser was there in the crowd too. I wouldn’t mind seeing them at least once but they’re totally absent from all the carteleras. I guess they’re rehearsing for the US tour.
Alisa turned up late with the Marsalises - too late to see the band. Bummer for them. I didn’t hang around to enjoy the post-show reggaeton. Big surprise, right? I scooted up Neptuno in my silent sneakers, worn exactly for that purpose. There was actually a cop walking the beat - first time I have ever seen that. I out-ran him.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Saturday for some inexplicable reason, I decided to go to San Rafael, in the insane heat. WTF? The Fin de Siglo market was unbearably hot and crowded. I walked in, did a circuit, and just thought, whyamIherewhyamIherewhyamIhere.
Walked out and went to the Gran Teatro and bought a ticket for the ECOS flamenco performance for the night, then up to the shop in the … green hotel up from the Capitolio. Name eludes me right now - starts with an S. With heat demanding at least two changes of clothing a day I packed a little light so I needed to get some shorts and another top, and I did.
Walked down Prado - hadn’t even been to this part of town so far, except for the day I was desperately and futiley (?) trying to make an international call - to the Malecon. I don’t usually go down there either because it’s jinetero central and “lady, lady” echoes with every step. But the heat seems to have wiped them out too. A couple of police made kissing sounds at me, which seemed a little inappropriate, but there wasn’t much more than that.
I was headed to Castropol, which La Rubia had recommended to me as a place with a varied menu. It’s a big two storey yellow building on the Malecon and they have an awesome terraza that overlooks the bay, with El Morro to the right and the Focsa building and the Hotel Nacional to the left. There were lovely seabreezes and I kind of lapsed into a dream. That however was as good as it got. I’ve had some bad food here, but nothing that was actually inedible. Until now. I ordered the chilindron of lamb. Wow. I ended up eating the pilaf and mashed potato that came with it and that’s about it. The meat was so tough I could hardly get my knife through it; the sauce was overflavoured and sickening. Obviously should have got some tips on what to order before I went.
Came back and flaked and fucked around so long I suddenly realised I only had 10 minutes to get to the Gran Teatro. I bolted down San Rafael thinking I would never make it. Actually I did, so now I know how long it takes to get to Prado from my house at a fair clip and with every man in the street commenting on your pace as you go. Amazingly the show started on time.
As it turns out, the Gran Teatro is not such a great place for flamenco - the orchestra pit puts them at a distance from the audience, too far for the sound of their shoes to reach us. Of course, if they’d miked up the floor, as is often done for flamenco shows, it wouldn’t have mattered. But the lack of extra percussion made the dancers seems strangely lacklustre, and it was no surprise that they were at their most captivating when employing castanets.
Most of the dancers were very young and there were no men in the company. The choreography was not especially interesting, nor were the costumes, which were mostly traditional.
The band however was pretty smoking. The singers varied from good to great, especially one girl, who came out, did a beautiful dance where she and another girl mirrored each others moves, then broke away to sing. What her voice lacked in power it made up for with emotion. It was a beautiful performance. An older, grey-haired gent was the other stand-out among the vocalists, but they were all good, as were the musicians themselves. The songs were mostly excellent as well. No idea if they were original or not. As an encore they did that little thing where they all stand in a semi-circle and take turns in the centre and I know there is a name for that but I don’t know what it is. One of the musicos - a guy - did a fantastic jittery turn as a dancer (he had come prepared, in his flamenco boots) and even the young girls were more exciting in this part, now that they were at the front of stage and we could hear, as well as see, what they were doing.
Then they were off. It was little more than an hour long, but it was a nice diversion.
A part of me wished I had scabbed a ride to Varadero though.
Tomorrow: La Reve at La Tropical.
#wooh!

Sweat it out

2011-09-10T12:57:00.002+10:00

The period of mourning has ended - Disco Fiesta is back on, playing it’s usual blend of execrable Latin pop, reggaeton, bachata and the occasional timba gem. It’s early yet, but so far it has told me that Cristian y Rey are at Miramar this afternoon (meh) and La Reve is at La Tropical on Sunday (yay!). I have heard mutterings that Havana D’Primera are at Miramar tonight - I’ll wait for confirmation, and get out of the foetal position I’ve been in for the last few days. I could do with the serotonin boost.

Los Que Son Son sin Pupy are off to the Oriente today for two weeks. Pretty bummed about that. I’ll miss Duni a lot. He’s a good friend to me here. If those country tours weren’t so hard I’d be tempted to join them but heh, you know: El Noro; Havana D’Primera; La Reve. All those things, for different reasons, make me inclined to stay.

I’ve been staying in and reading a fuckload of New Yorkers. It’s a pretty satisfying way to spend the time really. Working with words all day as I do, the last thing I want to do when I’m at home is come home from the office and read some more, so it’s cool to catch up on some reading here.

That probably sounds weird.

I went onto the balcony yesterday in the twilight. The shops were shut and people were walking up and down, going home, or out, but the street was quietening down. Amid the sporadic sounds of car and bus engines came the insistent mewling of a kitten; at such regular intervals it could have been a metronome. I couldn’t work out where it was from my eyrie three storeys up, then I saw a guy put a tiny black smudge down near the door of the carniceria, where a bunch of cats live (and why wouldn’t you, if you were a feline?). Another cat was just walking inside, disinterested, and the kitten immediately took off in the opposite direction in pursuit of the guy. He picked it up again, and put it inside, through the rails, and walked off. The kitten waddled back out into the street - it couldn’t have been more than six weeks old - mewling piteously all the while. As people walked by, it scampered after them, pathetically. A woman kicked some paper back at it and her friend laughed and they crossed the street. The kitten started following a trio - two guys and a girl - and got as far as the corner of San Miguel. They stopped then and stood looking down at the tiny thing, like, what are supposed to do with this?

Another girl with a plaster cast on one hand and a cigarette in the other walked by and scooped it up, and kept walking up to the ventana, where they sell beer and soft drinks and snacks all night. She came back a while later, still clutching the cat. I wondered what on earth she was going to do with it in this concrete jungle.

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I wish I could find out who you have to pay to fix the aircon in Casa de la Musica Miramar. It’s a sauna right now, for musos and audience alike. When I woke up this morning (ok, midday) my hair was still damp from sweating it out to Havana D’Primera the night before. And that was a night gig - I hate to think what one of their packed Tuesday gigs would be like. Insuportable, I think might be the word.

I almost didn’t make it last night. La rubia was going to call me and we were going to go together but she didn’t call and when I cased the street from the balcony there were no vehicles of any kind, let alone taxis. I eventually hauled my sorry carcass up to Zanja, where a bunch of people were hanging around the intersection for no reason I could see. I was on the point of giving up and going home, after waiting for about 30 minutes when a battered old yellow cab came up. He said he would take me but he just had to go to a friend’s house to drop something off. Oh-kay. That actually didn’t take all night, and I was out there in time to chat to DJ Mandy, who swore to me that he would play salsa all night if he could, but the Cubanos like reggaeton, and to bump into Sharon, an Israeli girl I hung out with here a few years ago before the band came on. She informed me that the HdP matinee a few weeks ago that I had been told wouldn’t go ahead because Alexander was still in Peru, in fact did happen, and she had wondered where I was. Asi es la fucking vida I guess.

La Rubia was supposed to be there with the Horns to Havana guys, or the Marsalises, as I have been calling them (although faltan un Marsalis), but they weren’t present, and it was the usual depressing gathering of jineteras (what did we decide on for the collective noun?), who seemed to make up almost half of the audience. Though I was pleased to see the HdP massive, led by Rosa Baretta was there as well.

The set was different to the previous week, with a couple of oldies - after the kick-arse opening of Para mi gente; they went into Despues de un beso; then - mm, lovely - Mi música; Carita de Pasaporte; the new one I don’t have a name for yet, which is just kind of a fun jam right now, like Pasaporte and the others were when they were new; and the gloriously furious No sabe nada. The closer was Al final de la vida, which seemed odd, but they’d been playing for about 90 minutes and everyone literally had sweat pouring off them. I mean literally - it was running down my face and off my chin. And I had spent two songs shooting video instead of dancing. I think the medicos might have had to carry me out otherwise.

Why does the aircon always break in summer?

I’m going to try and see some flamenco at the Gran Teatro tonight, which probably won’t interest anyone here much. Later: HdP (again) at Galiano. Sorry. But them and, I’m assuming, Reve (I haven’t seen them yet this trip, but I’ve no reason to think they’ve gone downhill in six months) are the best bands here by several hundred country miles.

I’m keen to see Bamboleo with Ailyn, because I always loved her with Azucar Negra, but unless Lazaro has suddenly given up faranduleando to sit down and write some decent songs, I don’t really know how great they’re going to be. Conversely, Limonta has a clutch of good songs, but he has Pavel (shudder) singing them. I guess I want to see both of those bands, but while HdP and Reve are options, they both get bumped. Reve is on Sunday at La Tropical. Hope I don’t get another fucking migraine.

Tanya is playing about five times a week, just as she used to with Bamboleo. I’m interested to know if she gets a crowd but not interested enough to actually go and see for myself.

Also really not digging the salseros’ (Bamboleo, Van Van) “creative” use of auto-tune on their latest songs. Jeez, guys, don’t slavishly copy every dick move the reggaetoneros make.

A veces Pupy

2011-09-07T02:40:00.004+10:00

A migraine put paid to my grand plans to see Havana D’Primera in their natural habitat at La Tropical. (Actually that’s probably not their natural habitat - I think they played the Casas de la Musica for some time before they ever played there, but judging from Alexander’s enthusiam when I saw them play there on Christmas Day last year, he thinks of it as something like that.) I was pretty bummed Not least because it was my second of the week and because I was going to go to Reve at Miramar afterwards and obviously that was scuppered as well. Instead I spent the night in a dark room, dampening the pain with prescription drugs (pharmaceuticals, I love you, please don’t ever leave me).
It lasted right into the next day. La Rubia had arrived and invited me to the Riveria pool, and the thought of cool water on my body was appealing but I bailed and when I went to Duni’s house to deliver him detergent, rice and coffee, I realised I wasn’t up for more than going a few blocks from my house. Even that wasn’t great for me and I returned quickly to my cave-like bedroom, where I lay down and watched a few episodes of Louie. Laughing didn’t hurt my head too much.
Pupy was at Galiano at night, which was probably as much as I could manage, seeing as it’s a 10-minute walk and a 20-minute dawdle from my house and there’s no trauma of hanging around the corner of Zanja waiting for a taxi wondering if one will come in time.
Reyna, her significant other and I set off about midnight. Lots of streetlights out at the moment, especially in that first few blocks on Neptuno from Belascoain onwards. It was my first gig at Galiano since arriving and it was a bit like coming home, although none of the bouncers recognised me, but the guy in the box office did (I notice the same woman has been working in the shop since at least 2002 as well).
Duni had told me that Pupy has been getting big crowds, he said last Monday at Miramar was packed and one recent Saturday at Galiano there was a queue down the street and round the corner. Bit quieter tonight, but not too bad. Sunday nights are often quiet down there.
There was a group of girls doing a routine to Manolito’s La Noche when I got there. I thought they had dispensed with the floor show though maybe it’s just that I usually get there so late. This was just depressing. About eight girls in faded jeans shorts, crop tops and leg warmers with amateur hour choreography and no dancing chops at all to speak of. It was like some lame suburban high school routine. It was worse than that. I can’t imagine what people who come to Cuba believing it to be a cultural mecca of music and dance make of it. They would see better dancing on Glee. And that’s not right.
Duni was exhausted from cleaning and painting the flat in preparation for the return of his wife who had been in Portugal playing with her group for a few months. I bought him a Cristal to shore him up and he disappeared to warm up. The band came on around 1-ish, opening again with Timba a Pogolotti. Dayan comes on first singing, then El Noro comes on and sings a couple of lines, then Dayan finishes it off. Joan (El Dibu, I think his nickname is) doesn’t get a look-in.
The interminable Bombones was next. Still a good song, but you know. (See first post from this trip, and any post where I talk about El Noro singing with Pupy for more.) Joan sang La Bala de Billy - the only old Pupy song in the set apart from Pogolotti (as opposed to the only old Van Van song composed by Pupy, if you know what I mean). A little disappointing for me. If I were to choose one song from Pupy’s back catalogue, it wouldn’t be that one. Joan’s voice is very thin and small. He’s really a nice guy but I have no idea how he got a gig in this band.
Dayan came back to sing Vino a comerse La Habana. Sounds much better now that Rusdel isn’t singing it. Having said that … I have always championed Dayan. He was great with Charanga Forever and in Azucar Negra - he and Ailyn were a terrific double act. But he’s not really up to carrying a whole show, which he has to do here, from my POV. Still, at this point it’s a relief to see anyone proficient in the frontline.
EL Noro sang Parece mentira - so the set was different from Sunday at La Tropical - and not even he can fuck that one up. That’s a beauty. Then there was Pirolo (? that’s what it says on the copy I got from Duni, not sure of the name). I was pretty knackered by the end of that one. I’d had a hard 24 hours, and indeed a hard week, with money problems not completely resolved and still niggling.
But the next song was the moronic yet lovable La loca (not to be confused with Loco con una moto) and I was up dancing again. Sat out Loco though. That last vowel makes all the difference. They close with a snippet of Pogolotti now. The curtain came down and it was time to saunter up a darkened Neptuno.
The band had a week-long tour of the Oriente booked for the 8th. Pupy called a meeting to say that because he had a medical check-up due, he wasn’t going. The band briefly rejoiced - those country tours are hard. The celebrations were short-lived. He added: but you guys are going. Get ready guajiros, for Los Que Son Son, sin Pupy. Maybe the new album should be called A veces Pupy, instead of Siempre Pupy.

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A big-ass general from the revolution died yesterday, cancelling all music gigs for two, or maybe three, days (reports vary) for mourning. Whatever. I had yet another migraine yesterday so I'm pretty blue and right now and too scared to go out into the light in case it sets off another one (don't even know if that's what does it) and am just sitting in my dark bedroom reading New Yorkers and rewatching episodes of Archer, which always make me laugh.

Of course I am bummed about Havana D'Primera's regular Tuesday gig being cancelled. It's Alexander's birthday. Would have been a big one.

Alexander's good medicine

2011-09-03T06:43:00.004+10:00

Havana D’Primera for the first time tonight, at Miramar. Alexander had been in Peru without the band and didn’t get back till late on Tuesday, so their usual matinee was postponed.

We left a bit earlier than I normally would have, but it’s not such a bad idea given how hard it is to get taxis round here late at night. The street was pretty bereft of cars, and then after 10 minutes two vacant taxis arrived at once.

The place was teeming with jineteras, which is pretty normal for a night out there. (What’s the collective noun for a pack of jineteras? A negocio? A transaction? An irritation? A molestia? Maybe it needs to be earthier - how about a bustier, a brassiere or a thong?

A bustier of jineteras. That has a nice ring to it. Irritation is more accurate though.)

Had a good chat to Mandy, the house DJ who had read the props Alexander had given him in the last interview I did and was over the moon. Mandy is such an overwhelmingly positive guy it’s always a delight to talk to him. He invited me to go to some course he’s giving in DJing in a couple of weeks. Will try and check it out.

It was a good crowd but not packed. Quite comfortable. Cucurucho was in the house, and maybe some other VanVaneros - not sure as they didn’t make themselves known. Had a nice dance with Reyna’s squeeze to Me mantengo but most of the music was reggaeton. hashtag sadface.

Band didn’t start till after 1 and they arrived with a bunch of sound problems, with almost all the musos scowling and gesticulating at the hapless sound guys. The first song was Para mi gente/No me importa, played at an absolutely blistering pace. I can see the policy of doing a “suave” set for the night gigs that was in place during my last trip has disappeared.

The sound on stage can’t have been too bad because I was right down the front in front of Alexander and it sounded pretty good. It was loud though and no doubt was distorted and shitty up the back, like usual. Al final de la vida was next - all of the songs were new, only Historia verdadera was played from the debut album. Carita de pasaporte followed Final, then a song I’d never heard which sounded like a work in progress, then another scorcher, No sabe nada, a cyclonic force, which you can see on youtube, as they played it on the summer tour of Europe.

I think they only played seven songs, but they didn’t play much more than an hour and there were three invitados - a guy from Muñequitos, Michel from Adalberto, and Cucurucho, who got up for Verdadera.

I didn't mind the shorter set - the air conditioning was on the blink and it was too hot. But the music put a smile on face and got my hips moving and reminded my brain why I had come here. It's not to try to get comfortable between the springs of a crappy bed at night and eat beans and rice everyday. It's to be moved - physically and emotionally - by incredible music.

All the regulars in the band were present which was great to see - there are few better sights/sounds than Rodney and Keisar going at it together on drumkit and timbales. I also get a kick out of seeing bassist Yandy and pianist Tony talk seemingly random shit while playing ridiculously complicated chord changes and bloques. Fucking hilarious man.

Maybe it’s the normal shit that trips these guys up, like, I dunno, cooking an omelette or putting on their pants one leg at a time.

It’s Alexander’s birthday next Tuesday, apparently, so that’s gonna be one hell of a matinee. Tomorrow they’re at La Tropical at night, which I wouldn’t normally go to on my own (Reyna has a prior engagement) because it’s just impossible to get home from at 1am (slightly less impossible at 10pm, on a Sunday). But Reve is playing at night at Miramar, so my plan is to run from one gig to the other. I can do it pretty fast on my own, probably in 15 minutes. I dunno. I might bail and not go to either. It’s a bit of a risk wandering around the Havana suburbs on your own. I’ll see. It’s HdP at La Tropical. That was awesome last time.

Gah! La Habana!

2011-09-02T13:48:00.001+10:00

Pupy played on Monday night. I didn’t go. That’s so wrong on so many levels. But my days here since I arrived on Saturday (a day late) from Toronto at 10.15 have been far from uneventful.
In Toronto when I presented myself to the boarding gate the Air Canada guy told me, “they’ve taken you off the plane”. I had been allocated a seat that morning in Vancouver, but the place was in chaos due to cancellations of all flights to the Eastern seaboard of the US, thanks to Hurricane Irene, so I guess it’s not surprising that someone fucked up. “I’m not even gonna ask how that happened,” he said. And put me back. It didn’t occur to me that if I had been taken off, probably my luggage had been too. It occurred to me when I arrived in Havana and waited until the carousel emptied with no sign of it. Two others were in the same boat. The system was down and by the time the trabajadora had taken all our details it was 12.30. I went outside where an even more horrible shock awaited: I dug in my bag to get my wallet to get some money from the bank.
No wallet.
I emptied the contents on the floor.
No wallet.
I was a little distraught.
I retraced my steps but thought the most likely thing was that it had been lost on the plane or even in Toronto. Big fucking bummer. In Havana with no money whatsoever and no way to get any. The supervisor of Terminal 3 kindly used his phone card so I could phone my lifeline, Martin. I got a taxi to his house; he paid for it, and I stayed there the night. Emailing and calling Australia on my mobile to my fantastic friend Helen to call the bank and cancel everything because the reverse charges number doesn’t work from because there is no agreement between phone companies here and there.
Jesus.
Didn’t feel like sleeping but had not slept more than four hours in about 40 so I dozed off; Helen rang to report back, and finally I went to sleep to the muffled thump of the reggaeton from the nearby El Jhonny (it’s now called Rio something).
Woke at 9, Martin made me coffee - lo más importante.
He lent me some money - none more valuable than a frugal foreigner in Havana! - and dropped me at my digs where the place was in an uproar because I hadn’t yet arrived.

A phone call to Duni (conguero with Pupy, if you've forgotten) elicited the information that Pupy was playing La Tropical. Exhausted but totes going. Went to his place and plundered his absent wife’s wardrobe (she’s playing with a band in Portugal for three months or so) as I had only what I’d worn on the plane - and one spare pair each of socks and undies.
Reyna, a DJ from Washington was already in my digs (there are three apartments) and had been in town since Friday, but hadn’t realised Pupy had played the previous night at La Tribuna for Fin del Verano. She was pretty pleased that they were playing again but not so thrilled that it was at La Tropical. Nevertheless we sallied forth just before 7 - a bit later than intended - and walked to Zanja to find the usual taxi palaver. Of course after almost 10 minutes of futility, two vacant ones arrived simultaneously. Claro.

Manolito’s La Noche was blaring out of the sound system when we pulled up and the substantial crowd were more than primed, having been there for most of the afternoon and already seen Conjunto Arsenio Rodriguez (I still want to see them one day) and some other band I didn’t get the name of. We walked into the side stage area with no problem at all, mainly I think because the real backstage area seemed to be on the far side of the stage - this, at least, was where Pupy and the singers were. El Noro was sporting white shorts, white jacket, no shirt and red braces and tie. Hashtag whatthefuck.
Just after 7.45 they started, so we timed it well. They started with Timba a pogolotti - I guess now that they have a new hit with Loco con una moto, they have a new closer. Most of the stuff was from the new album, Siempre Pupy, which is to say that some of it, like Ni bombones ni caramelos, was old. (I still wonder who the hell wants to hear El Noro shout through it when there is an awesome version with Pupy and Roberton already recorded.) Also on the setlist: La loco, which I recorded a piece of last year (it’s on my youtube page). I recorded the whole thing this year. I still think it’s kinda chaotic and idiotically lightweight but it’s appealing. Also from the new album: Pirolo, Mi musica and Moto, which they closed with. At least I think they closed with it. Duni had said they would finish at 9, and when Moto started at just over five minutes to, I suggested to Reyna that we leave early to try and find transport. Well, like football crowds, and baseball crowds I guess, and whatever, a bunch of people had had the same idea before us and the street was already filling up. We still ended up walking almost to Casa de la Musica before a taxi pulled over and picked us up.
It had been steaming in La Tropical’s little valley - that place is like a terrarium, with its own eco-system of gyrating abuelas with peroxided hair and tight black jeans. With its hard floor (what is that? cement? granite?) it’s pretty punishing. I arrived home pretty exhausted.

I was still preoccupied with my problems and rang the airport about midnight. A friend had been ringing all day with no response but I tried and amazingly someone picked up and more amazingly, she spoke a bit of English. She said she thought my bag had arrived, but she didn’t want to say for sure until she had spoken to a colleague (don’t know why) and to call back in an hour. Well you know what happened in an hour (at 1am no less). No one answered. Then someone picked up, then hung up immediately.
Time for bed.
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Monday morning bright and early I called Air Canada and spoke to a guy who seemed to know what he was talking about. He said the bag had “probably” arrived and they would send it to my house and it would be delivered at 11.30am. Well that came and went. I gave it an hour, before calling again. He assured me it would be there “within minutes”. That turned out to be 1pm.
I was pretty pleased to see it but as soon as I saw it I knew it had been tampered with - the lock was not where I had left it and I was pretty bummed to find out that €470 had been stolen from it.
I mean as soon as I realised I had forgotten to take the money out before I checked it, I knew that was a possibility, but it’s still a bummer when it happens. Especially when you have lost your wallet with all your tarjetas. And it’s still a crime to take something that isn’t yours.
The lock was intact and I didn’t know how you open it without breaking it, but within the next couple of days, I got reports from two different people who said people they knew at the airport said they get a pin and open the teeth with it and then it comes apart (you know like a broken zipper), which is why the lock was all the way round the back of the case instead of in the centre where I had left it. When they have what they want, they knit the teeth back together again.
What’s the lesson? Hardshell baggage with snap locks, kids - zippers be damned!
File under traps for (not-so) young players.
Gah.

Havana holidays - getting there

2011-06-11T17:59:00.006+10:00

Prologue: I have been inundated with questions about travelling to Cuba recently, and while I'm pleased that more people are going - the traveller's life will be enriched while enriching the Cuban economy (everybody wins) - answering the same questions over and over again is exhausting. So I'm going to write a few posts that address some of the fundamental questions. Today it's how to get there; I'll follow it up with a post about their complicated monetary system.

Meanwhile, in the sidebar under the Timba Geek's Guide to Havana are some older, but still very useful posts. I've called it a Timba Geek's guide, but the posts about getting online, what to pack and getting around pretty much apply to any tourist. They could do with a tweak (articulated buses have replaced camellos in Havana for example, and some things I said to pack, I bought there last time - like vitamin C, though they didn't always have it).

Also, I mentioned the iPhone app Havana Good Time in my last post, but I can not emphasise enough how useful this is. For $3.99 Australian (it's probably cheaper in other countries) you get a travel guide in your pocket. It has restaurants, museums, transport - even accommodation (casas particulares) and gay friendly places, among other things. The money chapter is not quite accurate but there is a comment from someone more au fait than the author (who lives there) with the workings of Visa, Mastercard etc in Cuba that mirrors my experience, so always check the comments appended to the entries.

I've met some great people through the blog over the years and it's always good to meet people with a common interest, but please read my blog as thoroughly as possible before emailing me with questions. (There is a search field in the top left corner.)

CUBA - HOW TO GET THERE

Australians

It's no surprise that few Australians go to Cuba: Asia is right on our doorstep; it's exotic and cheap to fly there and to holiday there (with the exception of Japan). However more and more Australians are going to South America and including Cuba in their trip. The most direct and cheapest way to get there is through the States, but that pesky embargo means you will have to fly to another country (Mexico, Jamaica, Bahamas, Panama) en route as travel between the two countries is forbidden (so quaint!). You also run the risk of having everything you have bought in Cuba confiscated by US customs on your return, as trade is also forbidden between the two countries (it happened to myself and some friends when we went from Havana to New Orleans jazzfest in 1999). Of course you can lie by omission, and just neglect to declare your Cuban stay on your US immigration card (the Cuban consul here issues visas on a separate piece of paper which they collect when you leave, so there is no record of your trip in your passport), but I would never recommend lying to authorities. Also: fuck them and their embargo.

Since that last trip I have always travelled to Cuba through any other country but the US. For years I went with LAN Chile - you could go with them all the way Sydney/Auckland/Santiago/Havana with an over night stay in Santiago to buy some lovely handicrafts and have your last decent steak for a while. Unfortunately the flights between Santiago and Havana have been discontinued - possibly because Chile's new right wing president - a majority shareholder in LAN - has decided he doesn't want to deal with a socialist state. That's total speculation; I have no idea. In any case, now you have to fly from Santiago to Mexico or Panama then on to Havana.

Luckily another route has opened up: Air Canada used to stop in Hawaii en route to Vancouver, where passengers were obliged to disembark and go through US customs, ruling it out for anyone who didn't feel like being hassled on their way home. They now fly Sydney-Vancouver direct, you can then fly to Toronto and onto Havana (an over night stay is required on the way over, but not on the way back). I had fantastic service with them last time and will probably fly with them again, even though customs gave me the third degree (they didn't take anything from me though, so I got to keep my crocheted tops. Yay!). The other option for Australians is Sydney/Buenos Aires with Aerolineas Argentinas. They often have reasonable fares but getting to Havana from BA can be challenging. I believe Cubana have a couple of flights a week that are often booked up. I went with Copa (Panama) who kept me waiting about 20 hours while a plane flew in to replace the one that had broken down. When we finally arrived in Panama, we all missed our connections and they sent my bag to Puerto Rico. There is great shopping at Panama airport but that's not enough to tempt me to go that way again.

Americans and others flying through the States

As Obama has relaxed laws tightened by Bush, who was trying to appease Miami voters, more cities now offer charter flights, which fly directly from the US to Cuba. Unfortunately it seems the travel restrictions imposed on Americans also apply to any foreigner taking a charter flight, which probably rules it out for most people. There are some details on the site of charter flight company Tico Travel.

Europe and Canada

This is pretty easy for anyone from Europe and Canada, so I'll let you guys sort that out for yourself with the help of Google/your travel agent.

Not Havana any more

2011-04-16T17:42:00.006+10:00

San Cristobal Paladar in Centro Habana. Pic Fiona Dunlop.

It's always hard to write about Havana when I'm not there, so forgive the absence. Hope y'all don't tune out permanently. The paucity of new timba doesn't help inspire me either (still obsessively playing 70s Roxy Music) and the recent line-up changes are terrifying - though Havana D'Primera are holding the fort, bless them. If you haven't bought their new demos on iTunes, get your credit card out and hop to it. You'll find two by searching for the band name as I've written it, and another - Al final de la vida - can be found on the Planet Records compilation Latino 42 (that one's credited to Habana de Primera, just to keep you on your toes.) They are all good, although I'll be interested to see how they change, if at all, for the album. (That's code for I hope they do. They're all certainly better live.)

Meanwhile, timba geek Lani alerted me to the existence of a blog called Here is Havana, written by a yuma who is married to a Cubano and lives in Havana, and has done for the last nine years. It seems to be updated reasonably regularly (about once every 10 days). It's idiosyncratic - yes, yes, I know; pot, kettle, black - and that's fine. That's how you get the full sabor, I reckon, though there's always the risk of rubbing some people up the wrong way.

(I'm well aware I'm not to everyone's taste, but when you write sin pagar, hey, you get to write whatever the fuck you want however you damn well please. That's my motto anyway.)

Among the observations and anecdotes on her blog are useful travel tips. And in fact, the "gringa next door", as she calls herself, is a travel guide writer who has parlayed that experience into an iPhone app called Havana Good Time that can be taken with you.* (That link goes to the US store, but it was available in the Australian store as well, so do a search in your country.)

I was a bit disappointed not to see my lovely mates from the fantastic San Cristobal Paladar in her recent update. Hopefully they'll make it into the next one.

So to make up for that, I'm going to give them another puff here. This is what I wrote after I went there on January 1:

Yarima and Lars stopped by at 1 to go to breakfast - a dashing new paladar has opened on San Rafael near Lealtad, in a restored old solar that has marble columns inside. The patio has some ferns and original tiles. The menu is extensive - which is a relief. It’s not a bargain, but it’s not horribly expensive either. They have a bunch of cold entradas and when they told us we could get all the of them on a tasting plate, we thought that sounded excellent and ordered two. They held tortilla, two kinds of fish, octopus, cheese, gherkins and mushrooms, prosciutto, crispy fried boniato, and some other tiny little unidentifiable deep fried balls that were excellent. It was awesome to just chill and chat and pick at the food. And not have to deal with a plate piled high with rice, beans, salad and a giant slab of protein cooked in oil. $6 a plate. Not whole lot of food on it but two were enough between the three of us, given it was early in the day. The staff are chatty without being pushy. Very cool place.

I've also found this review from the Financial Times by Fiona Dunlop. She took some nice pics, including the one at the top of the post, and I hope I'm not breaking any copyright laws by repeating them here, seeing as I was always too busy stuffing my face to take photos. She has her own travel blog as well.

The address is: San Cristobal Paladar, San Rafael, near the corner of Lealtad, Centro Habana, tel 860 1705.

Another blog I've been wanting to write about for a long time is Mexico City resident Azul Carmona's Sandunguera!, which focuses on Cuban music (naturally). Blu (as she calls herself on twitter) posts lyrics and historical titbits of music info - such as who was Sandunguera, exactly? - news and tour dates of timba groups for Mexico DF. In Spanish only - time to practice peeps! Also she speaks excellent English if you feel inspired to contact her.

As ever, there is Richard Curzon's fantastic Mucho Swing for music and dancing clips, and Barry Cox's amazing rumba blog - loads of good historical stuff there too - Vamos a guarachar.

Kudos to all the great folk who are ~~obsessed enough~~ dedicated enough to bring the Cuban joy to all of us on the outside.**

* Text corrected. See comment from the gringa herself, below.

** Also kudos to the ~~craziest~~ most dedicated of all, the guys at timba.com.

Havana in pix

2011-03-05T13:25:00.004+11:00

Created with Admarket's flickrSLiDR.

Have finally uploaded my Havana pics - about 140 of them. I've put about 120 into two separate slideshows at flickr (and embedded them here as well, obviously, see above and bottom of post). My favourite sequence, even though they're horribly overexposed, is a sequence from the night Pupy played at La Tropical (I never did get the hang of the lights there). Joan got some girls up on stage, including a voluminosa who decided to have a bit of fun with the diminutive singer. See what happened in set #2 below.

As usual, if you'd would like a copy of any pics without a watermark, send me an email (see sidebar).

Created with Admarket's flickrSLiDR.

Alexander Abreu habla!

2011-02-17T13:13:00.006+11:00

In December of 2007, a Cuban friend of mine, Cristóbal, who had been the bass player with Paulito for many years sent me an email from Havana: "Sigo trabajando con Paulo," he wrote, "aunque estoy trabajando con un grupo nuevo que se llama Habana d'Primera, es el grupo de Alexander el trompeta, te cuento que están los mejores músicos de la Habana."

["I'm still working with Paulo, although I'm also working with a new group called Havana D'Primera, it's the group of Alexander, the trumpet player, and I tell you: they're the best musicians in Havana."]

Very little was known about the group at that stage - they had only been playing for about a month. When I asked what kind of music they were playing - because I thought, maybe it was jazz, given Alxeander's past, he replied: "El grupo de Alexander lo que toca es timba, y buena jaja."

["Alexander's group plays timba - and it's good!"]

When I arrived in Havana the following May, I discovered he was right on both counts: they were some of the best musicians in Havana (including himself, now living in Mexico, and out of the Havana music scene) and they played timba buena. It was clear there was already a vibe about them: musicians from other bands frequented their gigs whenever they could and most of the gigs were well-attended. I felt they would be an important band in the timba canon, if only for the presence of Alexander and the musicians he had brought together, and quickly realised I should do an interview to capture the moment.

When I went to see them for the third time, I spent the gig working up the courage to introduce myself to him, but he beat me to it, heading directly for me when the show had ended to talk to me. That was pretty special. I still don't know if he knew I was a journalist/blogger or if was just acknowledging an obvious fan.

I did an interview that year and one the year after, after they had recorded their debut, Haciendo historia. I took a break in 2010, but with the recording of their second album underway, and a marked increase in their profile in Havana evident, I thought 2011 was the right time to talk to Alexander again. Always articulate and thoughtful, it was just as rewarding as the previous interviews. In the interview, which is posted at timba.com (I may duplicate it here.) He ranges over the development of the band and its popularity; how the band approaches the recording process and reggaeton and salsa in Cuba today. Many thanks to Martin Karakas for his help with it, and to Paulina Vidal for her help on the two previous interviews.

2011-01-22T12:56:00.003+11:00

There are a few versions of this Havana D'Primera song, Carita de pasaporte, floating around online already. Most (including this one) were filmed before new sections were added prior to recording it for the new album. It's a lovely song - it has a fantastic sinuous bassline, which unfortunately can't be heard well in this clip. When the band was recording the coros for it at Egrem, Alexander asked corista Jannier if he liked the song. "Cojone'!" responded Jannier enthusiastically. Quite.
Below is some video I took of Tony recording his piano part for another song, a really beauty of a funk track called Para mi gente. Alexander, baterista Rodney and conguero Guillermo are also in the video offering advice and guidance. Tony is one helluva of a piano player. At the end of this clip, you can hear Alexander say, "Agua!" Couldn't agree more.

The full report of my evening in the studio is here.

El Noro with Havana D'Primera

2011-01-21T11:46:00.001+11:00

Mira que te vengo cantando bonito ... yo?

Bow WOW!

2011-01-20T17:41:00.002+11:00

I know you're all waiting for Havana D'Primera video. Too bad. And there is plenty of their stuff online anyway. I will upload it, but first, here is the delightful Ailyn - la perrita mas fina - with Azucar Negra. Estreno!

En fin

2011-01-20T11:58:00.007+11:00

Ricardo and Julian from Combinacion de la Habana

Had one last chance to see Combinacion de la Habana, so off I went to their Galiano matinee. They had a great crowd, which was good to see, as it had been a little thin the other times I had seen them. Mostly Cubans, but a few more foreigners than usual, probably due to the season. They had another new song, sung by Yuri, which they opened and closed with. Seemed a little excessive.

They were entertaining as always. There was a little dance step that made me cringe a little: Julian fell to the ground at Ricardo’s feet and humped the floor, his face not exactly in Ricardo’s crotch, but, you know. Ricardo stood there for a little while like he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do, then kind of walked over him, his feet either side. Heh.

The gig was seriously marred by the arrival of a reggaeton duo, who performed to a backing track halfway through. I went and sat up the back for that one.The band played for an hour and 15; not long, but long enough. The crowd was grooving and mellow. It was a nice Saturday afternoon’s entertainment (for the most part).

La orquesta mas dulce de Cuba, indeed

I’d taken a friend to the San Cristobal paladar during the day, and as I walked up Neptuno on my way home, I thought I’d do something novel and have two real meals in one day. Afterwards, I went back to the casa to drink more coffee than I needed, then back down to Galiano for Azucar Negra for the night. I had told my friend Yarima to be at my house at 12.15, because sometimes the bands go on at 12.30. Admittedly I also said, they don’t often go on at 12.30, but you know, I wanted to be there by then just in case. Well she got to my house late, and when we got there at 12.40 the band was wrapping up the intro number which probably goes for 10 minutes. Boohoo.

The dance floor was completely clear until we got there. You know it’s a cold room when Ailyn can’t get people up by appealing directly to them in the opening song. Anyway, we skedaddled down the front, even though the next song was A mi La Habana, which apparently is going to be the title of the new album. The prieto - maybe his name is Yuri? - has cut his fro into a flat-top and was wearing a suit instead of sports clothes. Usually I’m quite partial to a fro but the makeover suited him. The James Hurley look-alike was in the front line again, and the two other singers relegated to the side of the stage again. Looks like someone is on the way out.

The crowd stayed seated until La mala de la pelicula. Don’t know why they don’t bump that one up in situations like that.

Ailyn was wearing a tiny sequinned minidress, with her hair in a plait. She looked divine and was as charming as ever. It was the first time Yarima had seen her (apart from the Teatro America show, and we were seated at a distance) and she was enchanted.

The only thing wrong with the show was that it was too short. The curtain came down at 1.45 which means they played for an hour and 15 and we missed 10 minutes of that. But it was all thoroughly enjoyable.

Azucar Negra are very flawed in some ways - they don’t have a whole lot of brilliant songs; and some of them are awful; the horn section is pretty ordinary and the constant ructions in the singing line-up don’t do them any favours - and yet, for the last couple of years at least, you can always count on a good time with them. Always. Whether you want to dance salsa or watch the band, it doesn’t matter, they will entertain you.

Actually can’t think of much higher praise than that, really. They're the one band I would have liked to have seen more of. Not a lot of opportunities for the second tier bands when all the first tier bands (with the exception of Van Van) are in town. Although I heard Limonta say a couple of times, that they earned scads of money playing over the past year. Guess that was tours to the campo and such. Can't imagine they earnt more than Revé - those guys practically never stop working.

Enrique, El Noro and Alexander

Sunday I thought of seeing Felix Baloy at the oldies’ matinee at La Tropical, which I totally love, but I was so knackered, that I just went to Martin’s house for dinner instead. Then spent 100 years waiting on 31 for a maquina back to Centro (no divisa taxis either) before boarding the 20. Que horror! By the time it got to Zanja it was so crowded it was the stuff of nightmares. When I disembarked I had “lost” my shawl, but some kind soul took pity on the pathetic foreigner looking confused in the street and threw it at me just before the bus closed its doors and took off.

Later: I eschewed La Revé at Galiano for Havana D’Primera at Miramar. What a horrible choice to have to make. There was another extranjera there, who had had the same dilemma. The place was pretty packed, but as with Azucar Negra, it was a pretty cold room and there was plenty of room down the front, and once the band started I was convinced I’d made the right decision - even with the inclusion of Ony Ony.

Then.

Alexander announced that El Noro was in the house and asked him to come up and sing Cuando el rio suena. Oh, how I wished I had gone to Galiano!

I videoed it. There is a special irony in the way he sings “Mira que te vengo cantando bonito yo”. Some would be put “sings”, entre comillas, as they say in Cuba.

To add insult to injury, it turned out to be the last song of the night: 75 minutes; only 60 of them with Alexander, and it was all over. Sob.

At least I managed to get an HdP demo from DJ Mandy, a totally swell guy. You gotta look on the bright side of these things.

A taxidriver wanted $10 CUC to take me to Centro and I was so tired of fighting over this shit I just said whatever. Nos vamos.

My taxidriver out had been awesome. When I had told him I was going to see HdP, he had put Ony Ony and Despues de un beso on his DVD player, then when he asked me what other salsa groups I liked, we were in agreement about everything - Ailyn, yes; Haila, no; Vania is la reina. He was very cool. I should have given him $10.

Mayami's weird pants

My swansong was to be the Trabuco matinee at Galiano. Salsa Mayor was on later at Cafe Cantante, but as the radio was advertising "invitados", like the previous week, I knew it would much, much, much later, and wasn't interested. Duni, Daymar and Albertico from Pupy came down; and Tirso turned up and got up on stage right at the end. It was actually the first time I'd seen him in a while. Maybe he made a quick visit to see Michel. It was busy but much less crowded than it had been the last few times I'd been there. Not crazy at all. Except for Mayami's threads, which were once again the source of much consternation on my part: I have remarked on the trend in the past, of some young lads to wear the jeans low on the hips, exposing a vast expanse of underwear. Well Mayami was wearing jeans with a fake drop waist, and a kind of yoke on top, made of stretch fabric to make it look like he was showing his undies; but in fact, it was all part of the same garment. You could see the waistband of his actual undies peeking out over the top. I'd hate to see his wardrobe on acid. Terrifying.

Melao was at the matinee, and we met in person for the first time. He'd been out at Mandy's place and was planning to take him to the Havana D'Primera matinee. Looking forward to his report.

And that's all from Havana for this trip.

Next on the blog: video and photo galleries.

1-2-3-agua! In the studio with HdP

2011-01-16T15:30:00.006+11:00

On Friday El Charangón went to Trinidad for two nights, and if it hadn’t been my last weekend, I would have gone with them. Or not. Memories of the last trip with them still haven’t quite healed over. It was a tough one. Anyway, it was moot cause I had to do last minute shit in Havana anyway, see people and stuff.

Anyway, I did some of my boring stuff on Friday and tried to find out if Havana D’Primera were still in Egrem or not. Duni called Uyuni for me who said he thought Alexander might have gone to Mexico. Note that: the trumpet player of his group thinks his boss might have gone to Mexico - but he’s not sure. Hilarious. About 6pm I decided to drop by anyway, cause it’s about a five minute walk away from my house. I found Alexander (not in Mexico!), directing Yandy, who had his bass plugged into the console, through a take of Para mi gente - OMG only one of my favourite new songs! (It’s the funky one that goes “Levanta las manos la gente que son de primera”). Amaury - trombones and coros - was there too, and pianist Tony Rodriguez and Rodney Barretto and conguero Guillermo. Yandy kept at it until Amaury looked at his watch and told him it was time for him to go - he had to split for Miramar where he had a matinee with Klimax. These musos are busy little bees. While he’d been doing his take at one end of the tiny room, up the end, an animated conversation about dogbreeds had been taking place. I can not imagine Australian musos recording under those conditions. But hey, dudes, correct me if I’m wrong. (Later Marbis said, “jazz musos wouldn’t do it like that either, but this is just timba.” Ow!)

When he’d gone, Tony, whose piano was also plugged into the desk, did his take for the song. OMG it was so fucking awesome. I love his playing anyway and to be there right next to him playing this fantastic song; watching him try and get it and not quite get it, and just laugh - he never lost it like Revé’s Emilio - man. What an experience. I routinely tell foreigners that come here that Havana D’Primera are the best band in the world. I’m being a little cavalier, but not by much. I love love love Revé. And as soon as Pupy fixes his little cantante crisis (which he may or may not do), I’ll be right back with him too, but HdP is really special for me. Something in their music resonates in me in a way that the music of the others, although I love it, does not. So to be right there in the studio while they were recording was completely thrilling. I know many of us have a lot of amazing experiences here in Havana - it’s why we keep coming back. This one is right at the top for me.

After Tony’s good-natured and awe-inspiring turn, Rodney laid down some drums. As soon as he started hitting the skins everyone just went woah. It’s so cool that they all dig each others playing. They all put in their two cents as well - just as Guillermo and Rodney had directed Tony (with Alexander), so Tony and Amaury were air-drumming to show Rodney which accents he needed to hit.

There was a bit of a lull after that, during which food was ordered, and the air-conditioning was turned up and I fucking froze. Almost everyone left the console room and I was about to as well, when Alexander came in alone, sat down at the desk, put Para mi gente on, took out his iPhone and, reading from the Notes application, sang along to the song.

The three other songs they’re working on, apart from Para mi gente, are Pasaporte, Al final de la vida and Dejame tranquila - which I hadn’t heard before. Alexander says they’ve played it live, but not for about eight weeks, which is just before I got here.

At 9, Alex rang Yandy - he was on his way back from Miramar and arrived soon after, bass in a backpack and a tub of ice cream in his hand. It took him about 10 minutes to nail the bass on Para mi gente, then he was done. He packed away his bass saying Este muchacho esta reventado. He is sooo cute I want to take him home to mum. Anyway, he hung around even though he was reventa’o.

A friend of the band’s arrived with a massive plastic container of pasta salad, which everyone dipped into in a most unhygienic fashion, and also a cake, which apparently was part of a much larger cake left over from some festive occasion. The extremely bright green and blue icing found it’s way over everything - clothing; the door - even the bannister of the stairs through two doors and 50 metres away.

Alex was trying to get Jannier, who wasn’t answering his mobile, as the coros were up next. Enrique arrived first, wearing a big puffy white Team Cuba 98 jacket (it got cold again in the last couple of days, boo). Quite a while later Jannier arrived looking very dapper for a recording session, and a little underdressed in a white jacket and cropped cotton pants. There was a massive bottle of Añejo Especial and Amaury - who would be singing with the other two - was drinking some “to warm up”. Ahem, of course.

I was interested to see they recorded all three coro parts at once, but with three separate mics - I guess so levels could be adjusted later. Pasaporte was first: harmonies and lyrics were tweaked. All three of these songs I’ve seen live had been, until the recording, mostly simple grooves, but extra sections have been added now - more like bridges or middle eights, than any other kind of recogniseable Latin form. Earlier they had been adding some chord progressions to Para mi gente. They were the kind that make me feel all tingly.

The coros took much longer than the other parts had - they sounded great but I was getting cold. And hungry. And a bit tired too. But mostly I was just freezing. When they were happy with Pasaporte, they started on Para mi gente. By now the rum bottle was empty, cups having been improvised out of Tu-kola bottles hacked in two. Alex got the last of it. He was pretty chilled but not losing focus. “Cuidao - desafinacion!” he’d bark. Harold turned up after 11 with Karina from Odduara productions in France. She was wearing an awesome almost ankle length gold knit dress. They were going to Trabuco at Galiano. I’d slept late and missed the gig guide, so I hadn’t realised they were on. It probably cruelled the Monday matinee, but I wasn’t really of a mind to go. Harold put in his two cents, along with everyone else. Karina took some cute pics.

Alex put Para mi gente on loud and got up and started dancing and singing and stamping his feet. When he turned around and saw I was dancing too, he pointed at my feet and said “Mira!”

Throughout the night, I’d seen him looking at me from time to time. Sometimes, he was just looking right through me, totally absorbed in thought. At others, he was clearly looking at me to see my reaction to the music. Most of the time I just had a big stupid grin on my face.

The coristas were still going, but about 12, Yandy decided to go and I decided to go as well, and throw a blanket over me and maybe have some hot milk.

Would have loved to have stayed till the bitter end, but when you start getting icicles on your ears, it’s time to go home.

* Shitty screengrabs are due to the fact that I took video rather than stills. Will youtube it when I get home next week.

A paucity of boniato

2011-01-14T15:08:00.002+11:00

I left out the most interesting aspect of Monday night’s Salsa Mayor performance: two songs in, a Cuban guy got up on the stage, proclaimed himself the world’s biggest SM fan, and slapped $20CUC on Maikel Blanco’s piano for the band to play Quitandome lo malo. Maikel was looking - well I thought he looked embarrassed, but to be honest, I think that’s my projection there, I don’t think he was embarrassed at all - even when an Italian guy - Stefano I think - got up on stage and added $80 CUC to the $20. Next song: Quitandome lo malo, obviously. Wonder how much of that money (if any) the musos saw.

L-R: Tony Rodriguez, Rodney Barretto, Alex, unknown, Amaury Perez

Tuesday I went to the Havana D’Primera matinee at Miramar. I hadn’t been to this particular gig for a weeks due to illness and a reluctance to brave the crowds, and I went more out of duty than anything else, cause it was my last week. I spent more than 40 minutes trying to get a cab - on Belascoain at 7pm, they’re all coming from the Capitolio, and they’re pretty much all full. Finally I walked down from Zanja to San Lazaro where one pulled up about 10 minutes later, asked if I was paying in divisa, and away we went. I don’t know how much of the set I missed. I got there at 7.40. They were just winding up La vida te la aplica and were going into Historia verdadera. The place was even more packed than on previous occasions - I don’t think I’ve ever seen it so packed.

I fought my way down the front and wound up next to Elito who had a table in the corner. Danced and shouted a bit; but the constant jostling of people passing by and the inevitable Cristal spilt down one arm saw me beat a retreat to the back corner where I stayed for the rest of the gig. Up the back, the sound was horrible - all Yandy’s bass, farty and distorted and precious little else. They did Niña bonita - not one of my faves - and a Latin jazz number. More sitting down followed before they wound up with Ony Ony. I seriously could have stayed home without missing anything much. Duni was there with his brother. The farandula massive of foreigners and their local hangers-on was out in full force as you’d expect. It’s still totally crazy here. I think the whole scene is giving me fatigue. Duni was off to drink in the bar. I was off to hunt down Alexander and nail down the details of the interview. I found him in the backstage room talking quietly with about four others. He said they’d be at Egrem on San Miguel the next day, and to go down there at 4. Bewdy.

I was waiting on 31 for a taxi when a mate of Duni’s, with HdP conguero Guillermo in the front seat, stopped and said “vamos”. All right.

I was a bit nervous about the interview - I don’t know why. Alex is a great guy; very smart and articulate, and always has an answer for whatever you want to throw at him. He’s the perfect interview subject. And I had help from Martin, who lives here and is a journalist as well. But you know, Havana, anything can go wrong. We got to Egrem at 4 and asked at reception if he had arrived. The woman on the desk said, no, he’s arriving at 4. Martin said, as we walked away, it’s 4 o’clock by my watch. Yandy was already there, in the bar next door, but he was pretty much on his own. We sat down a while, then got up and waited in the street. Alex arrived at 5 (on time, by Cuban standards, said Martin). We went upstairs with him, where the engineer was playing what they had so far of Pasaporte (some percussion, bass and piano). Yandy was playing bass in the control room, and when he went to leave, he asked Alexander to hold it. He did, and played the bass line along with the track.

After an animated conversation with various socios about the baseball he called us for the interview. I’ll try and get that up at timba.com within the next fortnight.

I guess the most important thing to know is that what they’re recording is a new album, not demos. He hopes it will be out in March. He said they expect to be finished recording by Friday, which seems an awfully short time for a whole album, but then they were there until 6am one night, and I guess you can get a lot done in that time, especially with guys who are essentially session musos and are used to working in the studio.

I hung around a bit afterward, but there wasn’t a whole lot going on - mainly the setting up of bateria and timbales - and I was bloody starving, so I went to Yarima’s house for beans and tostones.

Sinsonte and Suzell

Alex’s tardiness meant I missed Pupy at Miramar, but Revé was there for the night, and I hadn’t really wanted to go out there twice in one day, even if it was my last week, so I didn’t really mind.

Yarima and I got out there about 12.30, where she was immediately hit on by some guy who was apparently a promotion guy for Van Van. Didn’t get his name but he was there with Boris Luna, who I spoke to briefly. They just got back from Colombia and are off to Europe on Tuesday. They have pretty much been away the entire time I’ve been here. Haven’t missed them really though. Saw them a lot last time.

There was a good crowd but the energy wasn’t as high as it had been at Galiano. I really enjoyed myself that night. This gig was good too but, I don’t know, I wasn’t in the best mood, and dammit I wish they’d stop playing Madrugada. They have a bunch of songs that are a hundred times better - boiled sweet potato anyone? Also am a bit over Dale agua al domino. It’s a good song, but I don’t really get why that’s a staple in the set. Also, they played Chichi before Agua pa Yemaya, forcing me to stay in my spot, cause I like Yemaya. Aisar was kind of laughing at me as I stood there enduring Chichi. I mean it’s not the end of the world or anything. It’s just a song I’d rather be sitting down for.

They played the new song but it seemed a tad undercooked to say the least. I’m pretty sure there was more to the recorded song I heard in the studio. Anyway, I have video so you’ll be able to see for yourselves.

In the studio with La Reve; up late with Maikel Blanco

2011-01-12T16:02:00.004+11:00

Aisar directs El niño in the studio

Monday, after spending a luxurious day at home and not setting a foot outside the door all day, I got an invitation to join El Charangon at Abdala studios, where they were recording one song.

When I got there at 8-ish, in the control room were Elito, Aisar, Sinsonte, Emilio, Gretchen and Pachy (piano).

Unlike the rustic Egrem studios in Centro Habana, Abdala in Miramar is pretty spiffy. The studio itself is an enormous room with a cream floor and lots of gleaming glass sliding doors. The control room has enormous speakers embedded into the wall and there is a black and white monitor with its camera focused on the microphone in the studio. The Egrem studios, by contrast, are housed in an old building on San Miguel, and just about everything with the exception of the Macs, looks like it dates back to the original construction.

When I got there, most of song was done, and Emilio was just about to drop in some guias. He was full of enthusiasm inside the control room, but once he got behind the mic, he had trouble nailing the inflection and the melody, and he quickly lost patience with himself. It was interesting to see “El niño”, who often appears to be bossing around the older guys who have tenure in the band on stage, lose his cool and flub take after take. Aisar patiently sang him the line as it should be sung from the control room over and over but eventually went into the studio and said, look, just sing it along with me.

Emilio got it of course, and the other lines, which he also struggled with a bit. It was interesting to hear his voice alone, without the instruments. It is itself a fine instrument, with a soulful raw edge that begs to be listened to. Sinsonte also dropped in some harmonies, but Aisar left the task of directing him to Emilio - more comfortable now in his role of bossing around his superiors - and Pachy, while he worked on some notation on his laptop.

Elito, who does a rollcall of Cuban groups and singers in the middle of the song, suddenly realised he’d mentioned Formell and Roberton but not Mayito, and quickly re-did his bit with the addition of Rivera. You don’t want to leave anyone out, he said, or the next time they see you they go, Alexander Abreu, and not me???!

When I asked what the song was called, Aisar, who had got up early and had had a long day working on various projects said, “Don’t ask me that.”

OK, then.

The Salsa Mayor boys: Yasser and Michel at left

Salsa Mayor were starting their Monday peña back at Cafe Cantante and Yarima and I had decided to go.

It was excruciating.

The night’s entertainment, starting at, I don’t know, sometime after 1am, began with Leo, of Piso 6 and Klimax, singing a ballad to a backing track, much to the bemusement of most of the foreigners present. I didn’t mind: he has a lovely voice, and he followed it with the Klimax song Cuatro balas, which was much better. He left the stage and then - sigh - comedians. For 30 minutes. Maybe longer. Lots of jokes about jinteros and foreigners. After that, some guy from Las Cuatro sang to a backing track - would this “entertainment” never end?

Then: some kind of competition with people from the audience. I don’t know what - I was busy banging my head against a wall. Actually I was talking to the very entertaining trombone player from SM who looks like an extra from Neighbours. There may also have been some ogling of Yordi.

Sometime after 2, Salsa Mayor finally came on. By then, I wasn’t really interested: I was tired, my feet were sore, and I was in no mood to have Cuba libres sloshed on me by dancing drunks. I stayed upright for Pa cualquiera, and one by Michel (Repite, I think) then sat down for the rest of the set. At 3.20 (that’s a.m., guys) I got up for Se acabó el amor. Song, great; Yordi, awesome. Next step: taxi home and bed.

The Charangón sounds and the nut cracks

2011-01-11T14:55:00.003+11:00

It was a double header at Galiano on Friday - as Havana D’Primera were there for the night following Azucar Negra’s matinee. It was very busy when I got there around 1. Alexander came down the ramp not long after I did but I still had about a 20-minute wait before they came on. It was pretty uncomfortable - there wasn’t anywhere to sit which is normal, but there wasn’t really anywhere out of the way to stand either. His sound guy had set up next to the dance floor stage right, so that ate up some space.

When they took the stage, the news was bad: both Tony and Rodney were AWOL (the Italian model was in place) and Harold’s keyboard was set up, but there was no Harold. Later on I saw him in the crowd, and I saw a roadie fiddling around with his keyboard, so I guessed it was broken. He apparently cut the rug with the audience at some point but I didn’t see it. He was sorely missed on Historia verdadera, and I was certain they wouldn’t do Levanta las manos because 1) they often don’t do it at night anyway, and 2) it’s got Harold’s heavy clavichord all over it. But I guess the rabid crowd put Alexander in the mood for a raucous groove. I was sitting down spacing out during Ony Ony when I suddenly heard the opening chords of it and I had this kind of visceral pavlovian response - before I even realised what I was doing I had sprung up out of the chair and was throwing myself all over the place. I missed the clavichord but it still worked.

It was kind of brutal in the front row, what with the diehard fans - both foreign and local. I didn’t last long. Rosa Barretto, Rodney’s mum, often leads a choreographed line, and if you don’t move with it, it can be pretty painful. I never was one for playing follow the leader so that’s usually my cue to go somewhere else.

On his way out, after the gig, Napoles gave me his customary hug and told me that when he doesn’t see me dancing with the band, he gets sad. I forgot to tell him that when I’m not dancing with the band, I get sad. Awww.

I had to see Alexander to try and line up an interview and climbed the narrow stairs to the stage, now cordoned off from the club by the curtain. He was deep in conversation with Rosa. The Peru tour from December, which was postponed till this week, is not happening, and now it seems they are concentrating on organising the US tour.

Suzell and the Charangón boys

Saturday I was completely reventada (ie knackered). There was the option of the Combinacion de la Habana matinee but I had invited Duni and Marbis to the new paladar, which is just round the corner from their place, and I thought that might be more my speed than a Galiano matinee. Plus, El Charangon was there for the night, and I didn’t think I could do four shows there in two days.

Duni and Marbis loved the new place - we ate everything - entree, main and dessert - I only barely had enough money with me. I’m going to take some pics before I go, but I don’t know that I need to - they’re getting quite a bit of publicity. The chef has worked all over the world and the place is so beautiful and tranquil - it doesn’t matter how loud the reggaeton is in the street, you hear only the vaguest muffled sounds inside. It’s like fucking magic man. Also: the lemon tart is to die for.

Afterwards I headed back to the house to try and have a nap. Aisar from Revé, who was expecting me at Galiano, called me at midnight to say where are you? I said, I’m on my way! I was going to saunter down at my customary late hour but it’s just as well he rang to hassle me: I didn’t realise that Elito always goes on at 12.30 (they play for two hours). They started about five minutes after I arrived.

The place was very busy as just about everywhere is right now. It’s crazy. The set was marred by feedback all night, which was frustrating. But it was still a great show, Emilio was on fire; he went completely nuts, singing and dancing liking a man possessed. He’s a fascinating character. Can’t peg him at all. Suzell got a chance to sing Ya sé cantar, which thrilled me. She is so delightful.

Revé had spent the last couple of days in the studio recording a song with the Alonso boys Cristian y Rey, and they were on hand to sing the estreno. It wasn’t bad. Could have been a whole lot worse. Pavel “La figura” got up to sing on something. I don’t remember what the hell that was, cause, like I give a shit. I think the only person who cared less than me was an ex-squeeze of his in the front row, who spent his entire guest spot studying her shoes.

• • •

Sunday I had a date with Yarima to go to the ballet - The Nutcracker Suite. But she is trying to se purmuta a house for her mum, so she got stuck out at Alamar. I dicked around a bit too long at Marbis and Duni’s house and when I got to the Gran Teatro at 4.35, there was a queue of about 60 people, mostly Cubans. I jumped in it anyway - nothing else to do. By the time I got to the box office more than half an hour later, the security guard told me it was standing room only, but as I was on my own and also playing in CUCs, they found me a seat. But the performance had already started and I didn’t want to walk down the trying to find my seat. You can see pretty well up the back anyway. I was behind a pillar for a while then a foreign couple left and I stood in their spot which had a clear view. The experience was marred only in the closing scenes when the ballerinas appeared all in white, dancing in falling snow, and the usher stood next to me saying repeatedly, Ay que lindo! que lindo! que precioso!

Ay dios mio! (that’s me).

During interval, I found my seat. It was empty but of course someone told me it was ocupado. An usher confirmed it was mine - it was a good one too, row K - and when the previous occupants arrived (there were three in a row), they proved to be some very humourless northern Europeans who were supremely unimpressed that one of them had to move. They insisted that they had also bought that seat but they didn’t fight too hard and I suspect they’d bought cheap peso seats illegally. The usher was utterly charming throughout. I wouldn’t wish that job on anyone.

It was too bad I’d missed the first 15 minutes or so, and had to watch the rest of the first half from the back - seeing as the second half of the production was so outstanding. and actually did look a lot better up close. It was magnificent. The sets and costumes were gorgeous, of course it has that beautiful music and the dancing, for the most part, was astonishing. There was one group which had the same synchronisation problems as the previous performance I had seen - not sure if it was the same culprits. The highlight for me was the ballerina in a bodystocking performing as a snake, although the prima ballerina put on a star turn, the cossacks were fabulous, and the young chap who partnered the teenage girl at the centre of the story is obviously a rising star. It baffles me that they put on only three these performances. I suppose they tour the show through the country, but still. I could easily have watched it again.

On my way home afterwards Aisar, just wrapping up in the studio, gave me a call, and we decided to go and eat in the by now famous paladar. Bless him he told the owner that he was in Revé and that the guy I’d taken the previous day was in Pupy, and suddenly the bread and the desserts were on the house. Rock’n’roll.

Later that night I had to choose between Pupy at Galiano and Havana D’Primera at Miramar. Pupy was walking distance, but had El Noro singing Ni bombones ni caramelos - practically a crime against the state. I chose HdP.

You could tell there was competition - none of the foreign farandula were there and I couldn’t imagine they had all flown home to their respective paises on the same day, so I figured they were all at Galiano. Mostly it was jineteros, and a group with a birthday girl, who samba’d so madly when the MC saludoed her that she first lost a high heel, then fell over a chair and onto the floor. She was up again in a flash and completely unfazed.

When Tony Rodriguez walked into the room, I gave him a little clap and was greeted with a smile and a kiss in return. In the end, they didn’t do Mi musica, so we didn’t get one of his elegantly clunky solos. In fact, the set was pretty short. They started, I dunno, after 1 for sure and it was over by 2.30. I remember when every HdP show went for two hours. Oh those were the days. *sigh*

I totally made the right choice though. The only sitdown song for me with HdP is Ony Ony; while Pupy has at least two and sometimes three right now, depending on the set. Aisar said he thought it was funny that I was down the front, dancing my arse off to Revé all night, then as soon Chichi started I left. (I actually went to the bar, where I found Pupy’s sweet timbalero, Albertico, and had a chat).

When HdP finished, the DJ played one of their new songs. A demo I will make it my mission to obtain before I leave.

Next Sunday - my last - there is Revé at Galiano and Havana D’Primera at Miramar. Life can be so cruel.

Ahora tu quieres Azucar

2011-01-08T15:57:00.003+11:00

Manolin’s in town. Guess he came home for el fin de año with the thousands of others from el extranjero that have been here. Limonta saludoed him from the stage at the Galiano matinee. Didn’t actually clap eyes on him myself though: he didn’t get on stage and I didn’t see him in the crowd. But then I got there about two minutes before the curtain rose and left with the first thump of the reggaeton when it fell.

Azucar Negra were delightful, as they often are; the audience was full of people wearing smiles. Again, Ailyn was singing more than the last time I was here and I’m so pleased. She’s captivating. She was wearing ludicrous towering heels as usual. Every step a death trap. She was also wearing coloured contacts, as was one of her co-singers. They suited her better; he looked a little like a lizard.

As with Pupy, the band was trying out a new singer - two of the regular guys were shunted to the side of the stage where some bands put their metales (AN had theirs behind the bateria) so the new guy could strut his stuff next to Ailyn and the Afro’d prieto. He was a white guy with a flat top and a sulky look reminiscent of James Hurley from Twin Peaks. He sang the merengue, which the flacco negrito usually sings, and which I’ve realised is a cover cause I’m pretty sure Tumbao Havana do it as well. Also everyone always knows the words so it’s probably Juan Luis Guerra or something, though it’s a little cheesy for JLG. Funny, I enjoy it a lot more when TH do it. Anyway, he sang well and had a pretty little rosebud mouth, though he was a little underwhelming. I see Limonta is still trying to fill his Dayan-sized hole. I had told Dayan on Wednesday that Azucar Negra miss him now - I used the wrong terminology I think and he misunderstood me and said, si, pero hay que escalar, and I said no, I understand that, but you know, now they’ve only really got Ailyn. He turned up at the end and jumped on stage for the regular closer 3 de Azucar 2 de cafe. Ailyn always looks so happy to see him. She gave him the sweetest kiss on his cheek.

They have this great new song where Ailyn sings “Soy la perrita fina”. Ay dios mio. It’s kind of in a similar lyrical vein to La que manda. Haven’t really got the rest of the lyrics yet. I like all the other bits to it though. Another new one goes: soy simpatico, no cajero automatico. Limonta really has a shocking weakness for a gimmicky lyric. At least they’ve stopped playing Amor por el internet.

A mi Habana went on for about 15 minutes too long and I could have done without the merengue, but otherwise I pretty much had a smile plastered on my face from start to finish. That’s what it’s all about my peeps. That’s what it’s all about.

• • •

Trabuco had decided not to do the Thursday matinee at Cafe Cantante but I hadn’t planned to go anyway. Instead, I was planning on seeing Tumbao Habana later, their last gig before some of them head off to Finland for a cruise. They’d started early the previous week - 12.30 - and when I got there about 15 minutes earlier, the DJ was playing a Pupy classic with Tirso on lead. I was stunned. Sadly, more predictable fare immediately followed as he settled in for a good 30 minutes of reggaeton. This was followed by four young lads in extremely busy t-shirts who shouted over the top of a couple (2? 3? no idea) reggaeton backing tracks. I can’t tell you if they were good or not. They were young, I can tell you that. People got up and danced so I guess it was good for them. Thankfully TH didn’t tarry long after that but I was already bordering on mal humor.

I was really looking forward to getting more of the same from them, ie most of the songs from Mambo duro. But after the opener, they launched into a song they said “a lot of people would know”. I didn’t, but I realised it was Johanna. And it was good too. Made me realise I need to dig it up. The next one was another desconocido, and it wasn’t nearly in the same league - went on for ages too. Luckily Mambo duro itself made an appearance next. Emilio from Revé, former TH singer who sang on Padrino dropped in - Revé had spent the day doing some recording - but he didn’t get up to sing the song, which was next up. Man what a song. Totally rocks live too, with the extended bit with all the shout outs to the orishas. I fucking love it. Worth going to see them for that alone. The energy dipped after that - not sure about plunking it in the middle of the set - it’s much better as a closer. The set in general was a bit all over the shop. There was no talk at all of the cruise/European trip which was weird, cause they’re meant to be going on the 10th, and they’d made a big deal about it the previous week. Maybe it’s been cancelled. Honestly, if they’re on next Thursday, I’m not sure I’ll go. I still haven’t seen Alain Daniel and next week is my last chance to brave the inferno that is the Capri. He is so great, but the crowd is so bad. It’s a tussle between good and evil. I’ll have to think about which one will put the biggest smile on my face.

Boy scouts and training wheels

2011-01-07T14:07:00.003+11:00

The warm weather has continued which is really delightful. I guess the Europeans/North Americans who said winter is warm here weren’t lying after all - I just had some bad luck. Heh. It’s coolish in the afternoons and nights (for me), but the middle of the day is lovely.

The Trabuco Monday matinee wasn’t as crazy as the previous week’s but it was still super crowded. I got a spot down the front near Miguelito again, and watched Mayami come out for the opener, Sacude la mate, in an amazing almost Hitler Youth kind of outfit. OK, maybe not Hitler Youth. Maybe S&M boy scouts. I don’t know. There was some weird institution uniform vibe going on, with the beret planted precisely on his head and the vest and the tie tucked into it, then … the shorts and the short socks and sneakers. Good on him for keeping it interesting.

The $50MN entrada is like honey for the jineteros - both experienced and aspiring; there were even jineteros with training wheels. It was tiresome. I moved several times, and found the safest place was with some that I already knew that know I’m not interested and will leave me in peace. The band played Saliditas contigo - so lovely. And Mayami’s slow song and then La noche and the place went ballistic - there were elbows everywhere and I was on the move again, fearing for my teeth.

I was sitting down wondering what to do next. The band played a cumbia and made my mind up for me. I headed for the Parque Central where some friends were online then we went to a posh restaurant for a barbecued steak. A much more civilised proposition. The trio played some Jobim and, regrettably, Joel. There were no flying elbows.

• • •

Tuesday is Havana D’Primera’s insanely popular matinee at Miramar. About 3pm I got a migraine so that sorted me out for the rest of the day: 900mg panadol + 60mg codeine + bed.

La Rubia reported back that it was super-crowded. As opposed to just being seething with people.

At about 9 I had recovered sufficiently to be bored and rang Duni. He was home from rehearsal and tucking into frijoles negros. I went round to help him finish them off.

• • •

I had fears Pupy’s Wednesday matinee would be as crowded as HdP’s but it was just perfect really. Klimax’s Piloto was in the audience, and Ailyn turned up with a guy weighed down in gold who wasn’t Yasser (I don’t think - it’s kinda dark in there). She greeted me warmly and I was embarrassed because she put her hand on my back and it was covered with sweat because I had been dancing. And she always looks so cool. How does she do that? She was in skyscraper heels as usual, with big hair, both things together adding at least six inches to her height. If only I could walk in heels, instead of only stumble, I would do the same thing.

There was a fourth singer on stage. I had asked Duni what the rehearsal was for - he didn’t know. Then I forgot to ask him what happened when he got back. It was obviously for this muchacho. He was a young looking guy who sang coro and danced, then sang a ballad when they did the boring medley they had done on Christmas eve or whenever it was. He has a slightly odd voice - kind of velvety, but he totally sings in tune and his ballad got the biggest applause - don’t know if that was for his performance or if he was given the most popular song, as I don’t recognise any of them; Latin ballads not being permitted anywhere near my iTunes.

Yohan said later he was fresh from El ISA. Pupy’s daughter/manager had nothing more to add. She didn’t know what her father’s plans for him were. I’m the business; he’s the music, she said.

At the end of the gig, I saw a guy focused intently on a pocket Spanish English dictionary. What word are you looking for? I asked. He looked up. I said - you’re the guy! Duni had told me that on NYE he had met a guy from the X Files, but he couldn’t remember his name - or his character’s name. By a process of elimination, we arrived at Krychek - though I had had a brain snap and couldn’t for the life of me remember that name either even though I have seen the series more than once. (Well maybe not the really crappy final episodes.)

Anyway, it was the guy. He was there with a girl from Marbis’s group. Had a funny little chat with him then we all drifted outside aided by the stern admonitions of the bouncers. Once there I, lamentably, agreed to a drink in the garden with Duni and a few of his friends. On the plus side: Dayan was there looking dandy and being utterly charming. He told me he was going to dedicate all subsequent Pupy songs to me because I’m such a dedicated gig-goer and I said please don’t, it’s so embarrassing.

At Duni’s table the Cristals flowed, the stories were endless, and I faded with every minute. Every time I got up to go, they said, no, no, espera, nos vamos. Then they went and bought another beer. At 11, I literally fled, jumping up from the table and throwing a “Ihavetogoseeyoutomorrowbye” over my shoulder as I ran into the street. I was beyond knackered and relieved to find a taxi almost immediately. An early night was in order. The next day Marbis said to me, you know what time we left? 12.30!

Dia 1ro

2011-01-04T10:10:00.004+11:00

The CdlH boys

The warm weather continued into Saturday, which was nice, as all the outdoor concerts for dia primero were on. Almost all the concerts within Havana city limits were reggaeton - the salsa bands were all in the campo, with the exception of Pupy and Trabuco at La Tribuna in Vedado, and Azucar Negra in Cotorro (not much inside the city limits) and Combinacion de la Habana in Guanabacoa (I think).

Yarima and Lars stopped by at 1 to go to breakfast - a dashing new paladar has opened on San Rafael near Lealtad, in a restored old solar that has marble columns inside. The patio has some ferns and original tiles. The menu is extensive - which is a relief. It’s not a bargain, but it’s not horribly expensive either. They have a bunch of cold entradas and when they told us we could get all the of them on a tasting plate, we thought that sounded excellent and ordered two. They held tortilla, two kinds of fish, octopus, cheese, gherkins and mushrooms, prosciutto, crispy fried boniato, and some other tiny little unidentifiable deep fried balls that were excellent. It was awesome to just chill and chat and pick at the food. And not have to deal with a plate piled high with rice, beans, salad and a giant slab of protein cooked in oil. $6 a plate. Not whole lot of food on it but two were enough between the three of us, given it was early in the day. The staff are chatty without being pushy. Very cool place. Only been open a month. If you need the name it’s San Cristobal Paladar, 860 1705.

I had a couple of hours rest before the Combinacion de la Habana matinee at Galiano. With all the free entertainment on, I wasn’t sure anyone would be there, but it was busy, if not packed. Abraham from Tumbao Habana was there with a curly-haired and very friendly horn player from Salsa Mayor.

They started with the R&B flavoured Discrecion, which is one of my very favourites. Actually most of their stuff is R&B flavoured, but as I have mentioned, it’s on the funk side, not on the ballad side, so it rocks. The bass player and tecladista/composer and sometime singer together create great solid grooves and it’s great to watch them at work. Or just to shake your hips to their sound.

I missed the new song by Eugenio, cause my mates needed money to get in and said they were right outside and they weren’t outside so I had to wait and blah-di-blah I missed my favourite new song. Sigh.

The set was very short - only 70 minutes. I don’t know why - they finished at 8.10; leaving 50 minutes for obnoxious house from the DJ. I went home to make a tortilla with boniata, acelga and shallots and chives (not sure how to distinguish those last two from each other in Spanish). Then we walked down to the Malecon. It was almost 10 as we neared the Piragua and we heard Dayan: Toda mi gente preparada… I shot off, running to La Tribuna, shouting over my shoulder that I’d meet my mates at the left side of the stage. Pretty sure I’ve done that before. May have even been with Pupy as well.

It was crowded but not uncomfortable down the front near the barrier, that is like, 1 million miles from the actual stage. Duni had said he wouldn’t be able to get me inside, because there was heavier security for dia primero, but I could see there were two inner sanctums, and the outer most was crowded with any ol Tom, Dick or Harry (turned out if you slipped some guy 10CUC, you could gain entrance). Anyway, it was totally fine where we were: there were lots of people we knew and plenty of room to dance. Under the squillion watt halogen lights, the balmy night became steamy, and by the time La Machucadera made an appearance, I had to leave in search of water. Had to go back to the Piragua to get it - the shop at the nearby service station was closed; inside were people stocking shelves seemingly oblivious to the throng of people outside wanting to make purchases. Viva la revolucion etc.

They played a good 90 minutes and it was a lot of fun. I always have fun at the Tribuna gigs. It’s usually pretty chilled and there are always lots of people dancing salsa which is great to see. There was a bit of a kerfuffle when a bunch of people rushed over to the cordoned off area to get security, but it turned out someone had just keeled over - literally planchado, I suspect - he/she (couldn’t see) was rapidly conveyed out of the crowd to the waiting ambulance. It was all over literally within seconds. There was the usual imbibing - one guy danced casino with a box of rum hanging from his mouth and another in his back pocket. Preparado!

I’ve revised my opinion of Parece mentira - not much of a song for listening but it’s terrific for dancing; the singer notwithstanding. I sat down for Loco con una moto, and watched some nine-year-old girls dance crazily, with actions, to the coro. Cute.

Trabuco were up next, and even though the stage changeover was rapid, I was in no mind to stay. Too tired. I waited for Duni to emerge from the hallowed area; we picked up singer Yohan and two girls - one blonde; one brunette, both wearing short skintight dresses and heels, as befitted the companions of a singer - for the walk to Centro Habana. Duni called me abusadora for walking too fast. Good to be home by 12.

Alex

Sunday I woke with a headache. I had a lunch date then Azucar Negra at Teatro America. Revé also at a matinee at Miramar, then HdP there much later. Something would have to give.

I companions arrived late and we missed the first 15 minutes of Azucar Negra - these types of concerts usually start bang on time. We arrived to the closing strains of Mala de la pelicula :(

Place was full of Cubans - 10MN entrada for them. Ailyn looked great in a minute skin tight black dress with a kind of mesh back. That chick has some great threads. After about 15 minutes they disappeared and the dance portion of the show began. It started with three guys mock fighting, which I thought was a bit modern for this type of thing - usually it’s just a big troupe doing all kinds of more or less traditional Cuban dance. Once one of them had been seriously wounded, some medicos came out and stretchered him off, then a troupe of nurses, in skin tight uniforms with sequinned red crosses came out and danced, not very well, to what sounded like a Christine Aguilera house mix.

The next piece was a pas de deux between the wounded man and a lass in purple - it wasn’t bad, but the next group effort was little short of appalling. I think the group was called Free Dance - something like that. It looked like they were so free that rehearsing wasn’t even mandatory. I believe the creative director’s surname was Limonta. I said to Yarima, a dance teacher, wow these guys are terrible. She just rolled her eyes. It was kind of interesting to see how bad they were. Not that it’s the first bad dancing I’ve seen in Havana. I seem to recall Paulo had some pretty bad - or at least unrehearsed - dancers with him for his 15 años concert.

I did like the tap dance. The dancing wasn’t earth-shatteringly innovative but they had cute outfits - capsleeved shirts and classic-style black leotards bottoms for the girls; white shirt and pants for the guy; hats for everyone - and I liked that they danced to Hit the Road Jack. Seemed such a random choice for a tap routine, but it was fun.

After half an hour Azucar Negra came back on. They had learnt some crappy ballads especially for this concert. The crowd (not me) seemed to like it. One of the best things about this gig was how much Ailyn sang: she usually seems criminally under-used. I don’t know if Limonta has a “leave them wanting more” attitude towards her or what, but I don’t understand it.

They have a couple of excellent new songs, on top of the other excellent new songs they were doing last time I was here. There was a lot of chat - the host was Alex Wilson, tu sobrino from Disco Fiesta - and Limonta announced, among all the back-slapping, that Bis music had agreed to put out their next album. It’s welcome news; the last album was terrific and the next one should be just as good.

The band sounded great, but the singers were beset my microphone problems. At best the vocals sounded muddy; at worst the volume was reduced to little more than a whisper.

The show finished about 6.30 - plenty of time to get to Miramar for Reve, but the experience hadn’t done anything much for my headache so I decided to try and rest before HdP. Of course, about 10 minutes after I hit the bed, the owner of the casa cranked up the PR salsa so loud that my earplugs were useless. I lay in the dark - which offered some relief - listening to it for two and half hours, before I gave up and put on Tumbao Habana as loud as it could go. Grrrrrr.

• • •

Taxis have been thin on the ground for a couple of days and when we went out into the street at 12.30, there were very few cars at all; and no taxis at all. After a futile wait on Zanja, we walked to down to San Lazaro, where there actually were taxis, but none picking up. Finally one stopped. He wanted $8CUC. I said OK cause it was already after 1am and I wanted to see HdP dammit. We got there at 1.20 - the band had just started the opener Solo para ti. Awwww.

It was the suave por la noche (para? I hate those two words) set, but Ony Ony instead of Mi musica. Other than that, it all made me very happy indeed. Interesting that Alexander doesn’t even seem to bother to bring his trumpet any more. He did do a solo though, with one of his metales’ trumpets. Isn’t that a little icky? Guess you can’t say no when it’s the boss.

Rodney is back, and also Tony, so the Italian model has gone, but I like it better when all the regulars are there. I always miss Tony especially. Rodney did a good drum solo - it was pretty wild. It was almost like he missed it. The best bit for me is always at the end of it, when Yandy, Tony and Harold all play the two-note groove. Superfunky.

I’m at the stage now where I’m starting to contemplate my return. Just over two weeks more, then no more HdP, no more Reve. No more El Noro to drive me nuts.

NYE (cont.)

2011-01-03T14:59:00.002+11:00

The SM boys. Human shih tzu second from right.

At midnight, strange sounds emanated from the street and everyone started throwing buckets of water over their balconies and out of their windows. It seemed you got extra points if you hit a passing car or, better, a motorcyclist which, unsurprisingly, were not in abundance. I just hoped they’d be done by the time I left the house, but decided to wear sneakers just in case.
I left about 12.30 - the water-throwing was over - and walked down Neptuno, which was much busier than it usually is at that hour. About halfway down there was shattered masonry all over the road - no idea what happened but I was glad I hadn’t been there to see it. Or you know, be under it.
At Galiano there were taxis that could have taken me to see Havana D’Primera at the Capri, but it was half the price to see Salsa Mayor at Galiano. Of course they are half the band HdP are, but I decided to stay close to home. Foreigners were leaving as I entered, and I could see why: the place was packed. There were streamers and balloons for the new year. The DJ was playing salsa, and Gretchen Reve was out with her dad again. Didn’t have long to wait before the band came on. Michel (ex-Pupy) was in the line-up and there was another guy with curly blond locks who looked like a - I want to say poodle, cause it’s funny, but he was more like a shih tzu.
Now that Pavel has gone I realise how much I disliked his presence. Even if at least one of his replacements (the shih tzu) is as bad a singer: he sang Anda pegate with hips that moved nicely but without hitting many of the required notes.

Michel was polished, as you’d expect. I don’t know how long he has been with them. I think he only sang lead on two songs (I don’t remember which). Yordi has the lion’s share now which makes me happy because when he isn’t singing lead I tend to fidget. He tends to look a bit bored too.
It always surprises me how the band can do so much with what is largely ordinary material. They’re very tight and they crank up the energy as high as it can go. But I wish Maikel would swallow his pride and get someone to write some more decent songs for him, seeing as he is obviously only capable of about two per album.
The material was largely from the last, with the exception of Pegate and Debajo de la Balancera, which I never recognise until it gets to that coro. Yasser was wearing so much gold on his neck and wrists it looked like he’d raided an underground vault.
A drunk tourist guy got up on the catwalk, unsolicited, and started dancing wildly. They asked a Cubana to get up and dance with him, and Pipi from Trabuco’s sister was nice enough to oblige. There is also a Cuban guy that gets on stage regularly at SM gigs: he can not dance for shit. It’s hilarious. He’s totally oblivious.
Despite the throng, I was able to get a nice spot down the front beside some balloons, which would occasionally spontaneously burst, for some reason, scaring the shit out of everybody. After a while I took it upon myself to burst those that remained to put an end to it. Yo soy bruta.
Se acabó el amor sounded like it was going to be the end of the set, but Maikel was loving the crowd, so they did La cara de salir pa andar. I’d actually had enough, but if Yordi is still singing, well, I have to keep watching.
Elito and Emilio got up to have a sing, in the case of the latter, and to spruik Revé’s Sunday matinee at Miramar in the case of the former. Emilio stumbled several times leaving the stage and I don’t know if he was pissed or just having some cable trouble.

The first song the DJ played after they finished was the studio version CH's Nube pasajera, with a video made from footage of the suspension concert, with Michel as a wild and unruly but as yet mostly unsullied teenager. Man, it was awesome. That song still sounds unbelievable more than a decade later.

Put some things in perspective.

NYE in Havana Part 1

2011-01-01T15:34:00.000+11:00

At about 1.30pm I walked to Cayo Hueso to see Yarima, then up to Carlos III to buy phone cards (it had closed at 12.30, and I had missed my chance until Sunday) and everyone was already sitting on doorsteps drinking beer or walking to friends’ casas laden with bottles of rum and cola (one guy was carrying about six litres of Tu-cola in a much-sturdier-than-it-looked plastic bag). By the time night fell, everyone was going to be well-and-truly pissed; and by the time the new year ticked over, most would be in a coma, I thought.

I returned to my casa to find the fiesta was starting early on the terrazza. I hadn’t decided what to do with the rest of the day, let alone the night.

Martin called and said he and Geesi were going for a beer at Plaza Vieja and they’d come and get me. The day had actually been pretty hot - I was sweating in my t-shirt and didn’t need the jacket tied around my waist, but once we got to the square and sat down in the shade, a breeze came up, and it wasn’t long before that ol’ jacket was zipped up to my chin.

They were off to the casa of some rellos of Geesi afterwards and were ditching the car as Martin didn’t want to be driving around late with everyone so pissed. Already people were weaving all over the road - on foot and on motorbikes.

The owner of my house had said he was cooking pork (like everyone does here for NYE) but as I don’t eat it, he was going to cook me chicken instead. That’s sweet. The congris, cooked by tireless worker Yeni, was sublime. Bit too much lemon on the yuca for my taste though.

A party started on a rooftop across the road. Music was awesome: all Cuban salsa - pretty rare - until the inevitable reggaeton and bachata. Those things are like contagious diseases.

• • •

Wow, Van Van are doing a song on one of the NYE shows and they’re actually playing live, not doblado. Pre-recorded of course. They’re in Colombia I think. It’s one of Yeni’s songs from Arrasando - the one that isn’t Este amor que se muere. (The other NYE show broke to show the never-ending Brazilian soap 4 x 4. They’re coming back afterwards with Trabuco and Haila, among others.) The Van Van singers are sweating and mopping their faces. Guess they did a few takes. I love Lele’s big cartoon smile. If you missed my tweet, there has been hilarious chisme en la calle here that El Noro has left Pupy for Van Van. Heh.

Paulo is being interviewed on another channel. He is finally starting to look old. It’s taken a while. Don’t worry old chap - happens to the best of us.

Jeez, the music over the road is REALLY LOUD now. There are only about six people there. They don’t seem to be dancing. Maybe they just don’t want to talk to each other.

Paulo is still talking. Shut up and sing Sin etiqueta already.

Wait - isn’t PFG in Miami tonight? I mean I know this shit is pre-recorded, but that’s just too weird.

Oh I watched PFG sing Sin etiqueta doblado and now I’ve missed Van Van do No te de por eso live on another channel. Just getting the tail end. Stiff competition on the tele tonight.

Why does Lele part his hair so far over on the side? Is that a comb-over?

Raul Paz next. Zap.

Christ did you all know David Blanco had a brother? As if one performing Blanco wasn’t enough.

Aww Vania has really piled on the weight. She is still my queen though.

A dancing troupe performing to what sounds like the original version of De La Habana a Matanzas. Why wouldn’t you choose the Ay Dios amparame version?

I’m not sure whether it’s ironic that I seem to be the only person in the neighbourhood listening to/watching Cuban music.

Manolito on the other channel now. I could really use a remote control.

Vania’s singing rumba with a troupe on the other channel.

OK, too much rumba, even with Vania. Nice that there is a mix though.

More Van Van - sounds old. Don’t know the song. Oh it’s the popurri.

It’s 11.30. Gonna get dressed soon and go into the street. If I can find a taxi, I’ll go to Havana D’Primera at the Capri. If I can’t, I’ll walk to Galiano to see Salsa Mayor. Report tomorrow.

Soy Tumbao Havana!

2011-01-01T07:12:00.002+11:00

The handsomest man in Havana

Everyone bailed on me for Tumbao Havana: La Rubia went to a big end-of-year rumbon at El Palacio, and Yarima’s marido had arrived in town, so she disappeared. I got up to Cafe Cantante late - had a hilarious choffer, Fernando, who kept me entertained on the brief journey for which he charged me $5 CUC. I got there at 12.30 and the band were doing their opening number. All the tables and chairs were filled but there was no one yet on the dance floor. I went down the front anyway.

I immediately regretted taking so long to go and see them: their timba suave is simple but it’s filled with catchy hooks and mostly well sung. The singers have boundless and infectious enthusiasm and on top of that, I’m almost certain one of them (Reinier) is the most handsome man in Havana. The crowd was a mix of foreigners and Cubans and they would get up to dance to a song, then sit down at the end. There was a rueda at one point with three couples and complicated moves which suggested the guys had all learnt together.

The band did the same set I had seen six months ago but I had absolutely no problems with that as it’s a beauty: a bunch of songs from Mambo duro (including the title track, which they didn’t always do last time I was here), plus the popourri and the crazy merengue, which is fun and now has a very funny audience participation section where singer Maykel teachers the ladies how to make an imaginary batido while dancing.

The metales were out of tune on the opening song, but some gesticulations to the sound guy afterwards indicated that they had no foldback and they sounded much better after.

Tumbao Havana are one of the bands that make me feel very happy. Nothing much about their set frustrates me much - the singers range from capable to excellent, and the songs from good to awesome. I said this last time and it still stands: it’s a tragedy that they are not better liked here in Havana. Of course I have been here a month and this is the first time I’ve seen them - last weekend, when they played three times and I didn’t go because I had a cold notwithstanding (I didn’t see Havana D’Primera either, so you know it was serious), they’ve been playing the Cafe most Thursday nights (they had one week in Guantanamo) and I haven’t gone until now, having been sidetracked by other bands. I’m not sure I enjoy Trabuco more. Pretty sure I don’t, actually. Think TH go in my live top 5 with Azucar Negra - who I also haven’t seen enough - HdP, Reve and Pupy. If you’re interested, I’m putting Reve and HdP as tied in first place.

At the end, after Pavel La Figure had regrettably commandeered the popurri, bandleader Pascualito said that on the 10th they were going to Finland and next Thursday’s gig would be their last. ¡Que tragedia!

Well at least I will have been able to see them twice.

December 31 I had pencilled in Salsa Mayor at Galiano for the night as I hadn’t seen them yet. Have heard that former Pupy singer Michel is with them now. But I have found out that Havana D’Primera are playing El Capri and I haven’t seen them since last Saturday. But, eh, the Capri. I hate it. I’m in a quandary.

Cold fever

2010-12-31T15:18:00.004+11:00

Amaray sports a puffy jacket at Galiano

Well the lurgy has knocked me off my feet and had me more or less out of action for the week. After the ballet Yarima and I went to the Hanoi where we had my favourite, frijoles negros, and flan which would have been great if it hadn’t been drizzled with mint syrup. Weird choice. It was freezing when we left around 9 and the streets around Parque Central were almost completely devoid of pedestrians. There were a few on San Rafael, mostly guys who commented on either a) our gait or b) our relative hotness (my age is a factor that warrants comment).

Uyuni had said Havana D’Primera were playing el campo instead of Miramar, but it turned out they were playing in town - I guess the country gig got cancelled and they were able to hold on to the regular gig. It’s so weird that Miramar is locked up with regular gigs every night except Monday (which is the death slot).

Tuesday: Pedrito

Wednesday: Adalberto

Thursday: Sur Caribe

Friday: NG la Banda

Saturday: Bamboleo

Sunday: Havana D’Primera

Very grateful for the last one, but otherwise not very interested in any of the others.

Anyway, considering my cold and the night spent outdoors the previous day I decided to give it a miss in order to recuperate. Sob.

It didn’t work: Monday I felt worse. Thought I’d drop into the Trabuco matinee at Galiano anyway, just for a while. It was a late one, so I didn’t go till after 10. The place was about as packed as I’d ever seen it. Almost overflowing. It was insane. I met some interesting Americans at the ticket booth and spent the time before the band came on chatting to them.

Amaray appeared in a gigantic puffy jacket. I would have made a joke about that before the temperature dropped to 7C. (I am indebted to Japanese rumbera Masaco, now sadly back in Japan, for lending me a warm hooded top.)

There were great parties of people all dancing wildly with cups of rum in their hands. I found a spot literally at the foot of the stage, in front of Miguelito. They did a song I’d not heard before: had a Brazilian feel. Unusual. Not as good as the new Mayami song. When Pepitin took the mic, La Rubia said, Jeez, he’s even worse than the other two [singers]. It sounded like something I’d say, and I was really glad someone else had said it. Mayami really is the pick of the bunch at the moment, not just because it sounds like he’s done some serious work on his singing and it has paid off but because, unlike Amaray, he knows his limits and doesn’t over-reach and, unlike Pepitin, he can sing in tune.

When they did control Control I quit my position at the front which was a bad idea. Turned out that was the most sheltered spot: it was chaos everywhere else. I didn’t last much longer after that. A girl from the support band - who were rockeros of some kind - got up and sang - it wasn’t very interesting - and I left.

Tuesday, I felt worse. Given Havana D’Primera’s matinee has a comfort level of zero I decided to skip it and spend the entire day in the flat in hope that that would finally knock the fucking cold on the head. Watched some Dexter and read a great book (We Have Always Lived in the Castle, by Shirley Jackson, a gothic American mystery from the first half of last century) and some New Yorkers.

Turns out Duni, who never goes out, even though I invite him all the time, went to Havana D’Primera, and got up and played with them. La Rubia said the crowd was even more mental than usual, so I was glad I didn’t go.

Tuesday about 6.30 my sim card stopped working. The guy who had got it for me had cancelled it. Nice one, mate. Fortunately Martin said he’d get one for me. (Previously only foreigners could get them; now only Cubans can, or foreigners who are here for more than three months.)

When I woke up on Wednesday I felt worse. Cancelled my Spanish class but then I realised I felt a bit better. Took advantage of the fact that it wasn’t bitingly cold and heated some water to wash my hair. Went to Duni’s and found his loungeroom full of chicas rehearsing. Marbis has a New Year’s Eve gig at the hotel. Didn’t stay long: the sound was sweet enough but it was loud and my head couldn’t handle it. Duni kept talking about how Alexander called him to get up on stage - he was thrilled, and thought it was pretty funny that Alexander called him the conguero de Bamboleo. Been a while since he played with them.

Went home and Martin dropped my sim off on his way to see Machete at the Yarra in Vedado.

I decided to go to Pupy. When I got there I cringed: the place was seething with people. I realised that all the matinees would be like this for a while. Apart from work groups celebrating El fin de año, there are loads of cashed up Cubans from el extranjero all keen to see their favourite groups. I lurked up the back for a while, then La Rubia said she had a spot down the front, so I joined her and her mates in the corner. It was OK. But I might steer clear of the matinees for the next week or so. They’re just not much fun. I imagine the night gigs will be more sparsely attended. Gonna try for Tumbao Havana tonight.

I left with the Pupy percussion section - Duni, Bombón and Albertico. They were all stoked cause they had just received the news that they would be playing first at their January 1 gig at the Tribuna - they’ll be on at 9; they’ll play, then they can go home (in the case of Duni) or go and party (in the case of Dayan, I imagine - he’s a bit of a farandulero). Trabuco is on after them. I’m not sure I have warm enough clothes for those winds off the bay. I guess I could just layer on everything I brought with me.

All the other bands are playing in the suburbs or out of town: Azucar Negra are at Teatro America, then Cotorro (I’ll see them at the Teatro matinee the next day), Combinacion de la Habana are doing their usual Galiano matinee, then playing Guanabacoa, Havana D’Primera are at Pinar de Rio I think. Reve are in Matanzas. Lazaro is in Mexico, so Bamboleo are on enforced leave I guess. Not sure where Salsa Mayor are, but it’s out of town. Adalberto is at Galiano at night, but Miramar is closed.

I think Gente D’Zona are at La Tropical. Imagine the insanity.

Bailando en La Tropical y el Gran Teatro

2010-12-27T15:30:00.006+11:00

I may have to discontinue the blog if I don’t start going to see other bands. At the moment it’s a paen to Havana D’Primera, Elito Revé y su Charangon and Pupy. For all the options there were on Christmas Day (Combinacion de la Habana, Azucar Negra, HdP, Salsa Mayor), I only ended up doing one, even though in theory I could have seen probably three of them if I had wanted to. But the catarro had me by the throat and I whittled it down to - guess which? - Havana D’Primera at La Tropical. Feliz Navidad, baby.

I went down to the farmacia to buy vitamin C, going by San Rafael which was all buzzy cause it was Saturday. The “park” (it’s really a cement square with a few trees) hosts stalls from the nearby Fin de Siglo artesan market now, and on weekends there are also stalls selling food and drink. There were a lot of people just hanging out; had a nice vibe. Further down I saw one of the productores of Manolito. He was handing out flyers for the matinee larga and gave me a bunch to distribute. It finishes at 1, so I guess they’ll be on at 11 or so. I gave one or two to a couple of startled foreigners. Now I know how I look when Cubans accost me in the street.

On the way back I bought some prawns from the pescaderia on Neptuno but the veggie market on San Rafael was closed - for Christmas, I guess - so I had nothing to cook with them. Slung em in the freezer for another day.

I needed a nap but the crazy Canadian, who is here for three months and doesn’t seem to do anything much but play dominoes and listen to loud music, was blasting a Miami radio station on the terrace right next to bedroom, so that was out. Gave up, got up, cooked a boniato tortilla and headed for La Tropical.

Streets were pretty quiet for a Saturday - I guess everyone had overdone it the night before. La Tropical was probably a bit more than half full, but it was the weirdest thing: everyone was crowded into the back half. The reggaeton was blaring, but nobody was really dancing, and there was a huge empty space in front of the stage. The DJ might have got people moving if he had played something else but we’ll never know because he didn’t. Not once. Not for the 30-40 minutes until the band came on.

They blasted out to Resumen de los 90 then - the front of house audio died. They kept going oblivious, till it finally dawned. They stopped playing, and stood around until it was fixed. Then: bum-bum - off they went again. Alexander was clearly stoked to be playing to the pueblo. Giving it everything like he usually does and maybe a little bit more. He was going so hard there was actual steam coming off the top of his head for the majority of the gig. He changed the song selection as requested and it suited me just fine - no Ony Ony or Niña bonita (Confiesle was among the songs instead). About 1.15 as Cuando el rio suena was drawing to a close, the power - both on stage and off - cut out and the band stopped. But the crowd kept singing. The power quickly returned, and the band resumed, when it happened again, and again, and again, they just kept playing as if nothing had happened. It continued like this into the closer Levanta las manos la gente que son de primera.

It was actually quite fun. The crowd was fully into it. It was an awesome night.

Even if we did have to walk for miles to get a taxi home.

Lead dancer Viengsay Valdes in previous Alonso production of Giselle. Pic: Juventud Rebelde

Sunday was cold and rainy. The only thing I had committed to was the Cuban ballet at the Gran Teatro. Alicia Alonso appeared briefly on the mezzanine balcony briefly before it began and I must admit to a little thrill at seeing a living legend in the flesh.

The female dancers of the company opened the performance - perhaps 20 or more, in short stiff tutus, dancing to some very flowery music with striking precision. They were beautifully in sync - quite marvellous when you consider how many of them were on the stage at once. The same could not be said of the two couples that came afterwards: the males rarely hit their cues at the same time throughout the entire piece - it was maddening.

The third piece was the one that had been written in the largest curly letters on the cartelera, La muñeca encantada. It was two guys dressed in Pierrot outfits, and a woman in a lovely little short pink corseted number. All danced brilliantly, especially the young lady who did a bunch of turns on pointe towards the end that capped a terrific performance.

Pas de deux can either be very beautiful, or a little dull - the one on this program was just lovely. Beautifully danced by both partners. It was light, shimmery and elegant.

There was an intermission, then the company returned in black and white bodysuits, dancing to electronic music that, at its best recalled Kraftwerk, and at its worst, Vangelis. This choreography was clever and comical. The section was only about 15 minutes long and there was another intermission which seemed unnecessary, but when they returned for El Papillon, I saw why. The stage had a new set (the rest had just been backdrops) with elements that allowed the dancers to convert it from a class room into a stage, and then, when a scrim dropped, to show the dancers on stage seemingly form the wings. It was cleverly constructed and the dancing was very pretty but the story was totally naff and the supporting female character - the teacher - was pathetic.

Still it was an excellent afternoon’s entertainment, and I’m kicking myself for having come to Havana so many times before and not seen it more often. What was I thinking?

Oh right, timba. Yeah. More of that anon, no doubt.

Riveron returns

2010-12-26T18:54:00.002+11:00

Amaray sings his heart out (recuperating drummer not pictured)

I had planned to see Trabuco at Cafe Cantante because they hadn’t played at Galiano on Monday and also because Andy had told me at Revé the previous night that Riverón would be back. I got held up and didn’t arrive till after 8, which was really too bad because I found the place only about a third full, which is just the way I like it - you can easily move around - or down to the front. It was perfect.
The way the matinees go up and down here totally puzzles me: El Cafe is usually packed to the gills week in; week out for Trabuco. And this week, there was one less opportunity to see them cause they skipped the Monday matinee, so where they fuck was everyone? Preparing for Buena Noche? Whatever.
They were doing Control, then launched into La noche, not long after I arrived. The best bit was that they hadn’t yet done the new song that Mayami sings. The few people that were there kind of cleared the floor for that one - cause it’s new I suppose, and cause it’s a bit slow. Mayami roamed the dancefloor as he sang and I roamed after him videoing it. I got excellent footage and the audio worked this time too, so I was thrilled about that. Expect to see it on Youtube anon. Afterwards, I asked Chino what it was called, he said No tengo ningun idea. Okeydokey. He said they haven’t recorded it yet.
The Elito posse was up the back as usual - Elito and his daughter Gretchen and her boyf Emilio. How weird to go out with your dad. I passed them on my way to find Riverón. Turns out he had pnuemonia; it came on suddenly. He has lost a fuckload of weight but he says he’s OK. He played like the monster he is. It was good to have him back. He was at a table with some other guys from the group: Miguelito (teclados), Pipi (trombone) and Chino. While I was there, one of the “productores” came over and told them that the Monday matinee was going to start later, that it wouldn’t be from 5, it would be from 7 and go till 11 - or something. I lent towards him to hear better, and they all laughed and said, “tell her!” And I’m like, dudes, don’t you know that all the extranjeros in Havana call me to know what’s on!
Some of those foreigners were off to “Mil ocho” as it’s called, because everyone’s too lazy to say 1830 in Spanish. They have casino there Thursdays as well as Sundays, without Moncada, but with another band that isn’t very good, but isn’t quite as bad as Moncada, apparently. I went to Zanja to buy a cajita of chicken and arroz frito. And then to bed.

• • •

Friday I had my trip to immigration to renew my visa. Always look forward to that one. Up at 8.15 and down at the office by the port at 9.15. There were only about half a dozen people there but I knew that was no guarantee of a speedy visit. I was there about 90 minutes, which is a long time, but is less than some other times I have been there. I have finally realised that the key to jumping the queue is to go with a very old person or a very young person (a baby or toddler). Martin added “or someone with some kind of handicap - a blind person”. Check. Next time, I might rent a toddler.
I like the new location cause it’s right next to the Feria, which otherwise I wouldn’t bother going to cause it’s so out of the way, so I went down there and perused the stalls and bought some crocheted shit. Also discovered an unpopular Etecsa outlet where I can buy a phoneline without waiting one squillion years. Valuable info.
I wasn’t up for any matinees, and there wasn’t anything I wanted to see. I know I should give Klimax another chance, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I needed a nap but the fiesta for Noche Buena - and the hideous music (Mexican, bachata, house, PR salsa) started at early at my house, so I hightailed it to Duni’s house, where Marbis was making an excellent dinner and they were playing Havana D’Primera. All right.
Pupy were playing Galiano later. The singers had apparently done a TV show earlier and all looked very smart in black suits with red accessories. Didn’t get any pics because I had forgotten (for the second time this trip) to put my SD card in my camera. Fuck, shit etc.
The place was pretty crowded. Lots of tourists. Everyone dancing.
(Shit the weather is on and we have a top of 18 on Monday with a low of 10. I’m going to freeze my fucking ass off. Remind me who told me it doesn’t get cold in Havana? 10 is cold in anyone’s language, surely.)
The DJ played Si a una mamita and when a guy popped up in front of me I thought, why not. Big fucking mistake. I’m not sure what time he was dancing to, but it was at least twice as fast as the song. I just stayed on the beat and hoped he would take my cue. He started with some fancy footwork, leaving me hanging with fuck-all to do then he - wait for it - did the splits. En serio. I mean it wasn’t the worse dance I’ve ever had but I was relieved when it was over. At the end he said, you dance like a man. I said, you don’t dance with your partner, and walked off.
Later on I was at the bar talking to La Rubia, when I felt something rubbing up against me: the same guy had come out of nowhere and was humping my leg. I suppose there is some way he could have been creepier, but I’m not sure how. I pushed him off me and he just kept coming at me. I’m like, dude leave me alone, I’m talking to my friend. After a bit more actual physical sparring, he went away, but he watched me all night. I wondered if he was going to chase me up Neptuno at 3am.
Pupy y los que Son Son were good, again. Dayan knocked my socks off, again. I can never take my eyes off him. The singing; the dancing; the dazzling smile. Bless. They did some lame ballad medley for Noche Buena. They were famous songs I think, but I didn’t know any of them. La Rubia said the one Noro sang was Pablo Milanes. Dayan sang his beautifully. Actually it surprised me cause I haven’t seen him do that kind of thing before. Man for all seasons.
Estaba catarrada - de nuevo. And the smoke and lack of sleep knocked me off my feet. I sat down halfway through La Machucadera and didn’t really get back up again. Jeez that song is a powerhouse. There was this older woman, maybe in her early 60s down the front. Short, portly, in a jumper and jeans. Couldn’t dance salsa for shit. Big smile on her face. Again I say, bless.

All on for young and old

2010-12-24T16:04:00.004+11:00

El Noro

I didn’t go to see Trabuco on Thursday, cause I don’t like them so much at El Cafe, and now there is the option to see them every Monday at Galiano instead, which is like one big happy party. So you know what happened: their Monday gig was cancelled. Of course it was. The replacement was PMM Light. Yay. Not. Los Confidenciales were on at Miramar and Jota G, the son of the late revolutionary Juan Almeida who is a fixture in the audience at the Capri, was playing with his newish timba band at Cafe Cantante. A few of the foreigners headed off to that but I don’t really feel I can support him (also he is shit, not surprisingly), so I decided to sit the matinee slot out.

Around 1 in the arvo Ricardo from Combinacion de la Habana turned up, which was a nice surprise. Haven’t seen him yet this trip. He really is such a nice chap. So unassuming. I was pleased to be able to burn him a copy of Mandy’s recent album cause he is a massive fan, and let’s face it, it’s not bad thing if a young singer wants to immerse himself in the work of a master like that. I had some live stuff with Mandy too that I threw his way. He said he would bring me some new demos CdlH has recorded. They have done one with Tirso. I said I didn’t understand why tecladista/arranger Eugenio was singing one of the new songs when they had three excellent singers. He was defending him, but really. Eugenio doesn’t have much of a voice: it’s a weird choice.

Anyway, I had planned to see them the previous Saturday and they weren’t on and he said it’s cause they were playing the Monday night and they couldn’t do two gigs at the same place so close together. When it was confirmed that Trabuco - who had played there on Saturday night - was suspendido for the day, he said, See?

Pupy y los que Son Son were doing a radio recording for transmission for the end of year festivities and later in the day I went looking for Duni at his house. He wasn’t there but Marbis was there cooking dinner - she wasn’t waiting for him cause she said she was dying of hunger and bless her cotton socks she fed me - awesome congris and chicken and a great salad and yuca. Anyone who has been here will understand: homecooked meals are the best.

I transcribed the English lyrics to a Juan Luis Guerra song she wants to do with her band. She has a gig at Hotel Panorama. They have to do some dire songs (Yesterday, among them), but it’s work, so you know, whatever.

Duni finally came home and I told him I had eaten his dinner (mentira: there was plenty) then he went to watch Raul’s extra-long speech on television. He was talking about the imminent changes and why they have to happen. He’s right. Not sure why he had to take so long to say it. I thought he was famous for short speeches. Adalberto Alvarez was among those in parliament listening to it. Duni says he is a “consejo”. A council member I guess. Not sure about the political ins and outs here.

The previous Friday, the phone at the casa had been fuera del servicio for about 24 hours. When Etecsa did nothing about, the landlord had a go at fixing it himself. Now the internet functions so well it’s almost like having broadband. Well not really. But the pages load and they don’t take forever, so you should be seeing me around more and I won’t have to bottle up the posts for days. Be a bit easier on the eyes. I came home and was so happy conectada that I didn’t realise it was 12.30 already and I needed to get my ass down to Galiano for CdlH.

I shot down a near empty Neptuno - pleased to see the lights all working now.

Down at the Casa the band was already on, playing to a modest but enthusiastic crowd. The sound wasn’t awesome. It showed up Eugenio’s weakness singer even more markedly, as the others, singing coro, all overshadowed him. His is a good song though. This band has oodles of funk. Too bad Egrem won’t give them a record deal. Guess they don’t know the right people. Oh hush my mouth.

Ricardo had gone from my house to the barber and was now sporting a kind of reverse Elito: all shaved on the top with like a wedge at the base of the neck. Wacky. Ricardo has kind of an edgy, new wave look. I like it - it isn’t that common here. Good to see someone thinking outside the square.

They wrapped up about 1.40, so I saw almost an hour. They’re back in their Saturday afternoon slot this week but it’s a monster day: as well as their gig, there is Azucar Negra at El Palacio, HdP at La Tropical and Salsa Mayor at Galiano. Not long ago there used to be fuck-all on Saturdays: Waldo Mendoza at Cafe Cantante and Bamboleo at Miramar and something totally crappy for the matinee at Galiano. WTF happened?

• • •

Tuesday. Sigh. A great Spanish class with my awesome teacher, then a fucking headache and after a visit from a friend, a liedown in a darkened room. I was pretty determined to go to HdP at Miramar though. Probably wasn’t a very good idea. Went with La Rubia, a fellow farandulera in town for a while who has a car (awesome!) and got there late - 7.30 - they hadn’t started, so thank fucking Christ we didn’t get there earlier. It was jampacked, as usual. Tony Rodriguez was absent. I always miss him. I really love his style. It’s so spare and, I don’t know, almost idiosyncratic. The guy in his place was the same one who had played in his absence a couple of weeks previously, and I now know who he is cause he was on Donde si no last Saturday: his last name is Pacheco (maybe Jorge Luis, but don’t hold me to that). He’s OK. He’s no Tony Rodriguez.

They started, puzzlingly, with corista Jannier on congas - doing a pretty good job too - and Napoles playing guitar and singing coros. Halfway through Resumen de los 90, the conguero arrived - regrettably not the Italian model from Sunday but a much less attractive chap. Oh well.

The band lifted me for a while, but the people and the lights and everything was too much. I saw other people leaving and I wanted to go too, but my choffer was down the front dancing her ass off. I went up the back: it was darker and bit more low key up by the DJ booth and Alexander got me into it again.

They actually sounded a bit ragged on some songs - the beginning of one of the new ones was all desafinacion to my ears, but no one stage seemed to notice so maybe it was my headache. The horns were completely messed up on the intro to Historia Verdadera and everyone on stage did notice that.

Some foreign chick got up for a bit of a trumpet solo at the end of Cuando el rio suena and Alexander joined her. We might not have even got one if it weren’t for her cause I noticed he borrowed one from the metales: he hadn’t even brought his to the stage.

• • •

On Tuesday night I spoke to Jelien, the violinist, and he told me would be recording his parts for the Alvarez project the following day. I went down to Egrem very late - spent more than an hour in the bank waiting to buy stamps for the visa extension - oh joy - and when I got there, the Alvarez peeps weren’t down there - and hadn’t been there all day. But Duni was down there with pianist extraordinaire Rolando Luna, and Havana D’Primera’s Yandy and trombonist Carlito, among others. They were assembled to record a project for a Cuban muso who lives in Japan now. Pretty cool crew to have on your record. They were doing a tropical fusion thing. Yandy was playing bass in the control room while Duni, a guirero and Rolando recorded in the studio. Yandy is the bomb. I may have said that before.

Carlito is this old guy who looks like a teddy bear. He has been to Australia twice with Cubanismo and was eager to talk about it. Later Duni said he used to play with Irakere. Doesn’t surprise me given the calibre of Alexander’s musos. Don’t think there are any slouches among them.

Afterwards, Duni and his ex-pat mate went next door for a cerveza, Duni seemingly forgetting that he had a matinee with Pupy and had to be there at 6. We got to Miramar about 6.50. Early enough for my liking, that’s for sure.

It was busy, but not uncomfortable. Band sounded great. There was not enough Dayan. They did La fiera, which is one of those Pupy songs that starts off lame, then later, in the live version anyway, has some vicious funk grooves in it. I was going off my head. Been turning my external drive inside since then trying to find the live version I was sure I had, with no luck.

When they do La fiera, there isn’t much time for much else - as well as a bunch of motivo grooves, it has a piano solo - I don’t know how long it goes for, but it’s a long time. So the selection was a little limited - there was no Pogolotti for example.

There were some low spots: Seis semanas bores me, and having Noro sing it isn’t going to endear it to me. Parece mentira was borderline: a prieto asked me to dance and I said yes, on a whim and I think that was the best way to spend that song, as he had some good moves and it probably made it a bit more interesting than it would have been otherwise.

I’m revising my opinion of the new song I heard at La Tropical. When it started, I meandered away from the front back to where Alexander (that’s Abreu) was sitting, but the solid funk of the groove drew me back to the stage and I got some video. The vocal isn’t much more than some shouted words, but the groove is to die for. The whole thing is pretty shambolic in a totally awesome way.

There was some pretty chaotic cintura dancing on stage. Once the girls got up on stage, you couldn’t get them off - or keep them off it. It was La Tropical all over again.

Elito takes over at Pupy's matinee

As well as Alexander, Elito turned up - so now worries about missing any of Revé’s “matinee” at El Palacio then. He got up towards the end to shout some inanities and spruik the Palacio gig. We went more or less straight there: big mistake. We got there about 9.30 and the same rumba band was on that had played when I had last seen Revé there. They played. And played. And played. Sigh. A local came up to me and said, “Do you like rumba?” I said, “I hate it.” He looked at me and said, “Are you Cuban?” That’s a big LOL right there.

(Before I get flamed: I don’t hate it - I appreciate the role it plays in timba - boy do I appreciate it - no rumba; no Si me quieres conocer just for starters. And scratch half of Revé’s set. But when it’s not mixed with a swingin’ piano tumbao and some bateria and a grooving bass … it’s not my thing. And when it holds up the arrival of one of my favourite orquestas, Senora Cranky emerges.)

El Charangón finally came on about 11.30. Shit. Some matinee. They played till almost 1. I’d been freezing in the air conditioning and stiffening up from dancing to Pupy then standing around bored. But they got me to my feet with De que estamos hablando, Niña relajate and the rest. La boda de la bicicleta was a nice addition. Great song I haven’t listened to enough. There is a great vibe at El Palacio. It has its own farandula - the rumberos who call it home - and it’s nice to see different faces. In Niña relajate - which is about a jealous girlfriend - Emilio improvised a guia to his GF, on keyboards, which had everyone laughing. It was a bit unfair I thought. She bore it as best she could, given she was on a stage and she didn't have a mic and isn't a singer anyway.

At the end Elito said they were playing the Miramar matinee on Tuesday - donde estará Havana D’Primera? Don’t know that I mind. I’m a little over the HdP matinee. It’s too much. I can’t believe I’m saying that.

I left to walk through the legendarily peligroso Cayo Hueso, and singer Dagoberto accompanied me as far as Neptuno. He’d just seen the movie Australia and was raving about its beauty and had some questions about our heritage. Oh, bless. Seriously. We said good night; he went off to find a maquina and I walked up the narrow black street to my house.

Bailando en La Tropical: Part 2

2010-12-21T15:47:00.004+11:00

La gente de la Tropical

Calling La Tropical on Sunday to try and find out what time El Charangon would be playing (as Elito is so capricious, and even the musos often don’t know, I wasn’t holding my breath), I got, hilariously, an incredibly well-spoken and talkative chap who spoke as though he knew exactly what was going on and, even more amazingly, turned out to be right. I asked what time the matinee finished (figuring I could work back from there) he said, 9, then gave me a very funny radio-style spruik for the gig, then told me, when I asked, that they would be on at 6 (they came on at 6.30).
I’d done fuck all for the day. Duni had tried to get me to go up to the feria on Carlos III at about 2, but the thought of cheap fruit and vegies wasn’t enough to get my out of my PJs and I ended up watching a Latifah rom-com on TV and fucking around the flat.
Me and my friend Yarima and her friend who has one of those Cuban names it’s impossible to grasp the first time you hear it, left a bit after 5.30 and got up there just before 6. There was the generic timba of some nameless band blaring out and a queue to get in, even though the cover was the same as it had been for Pupy the previous night. Guess it’s just easier for everyone to get home at 9, instead of 2.
The first band finished as we made our way through the throng downstairs, where we tried to get inside the hallowed gates of the backstage area. I didn’t see Aisar - no doubt living large on the upper balcony. I did see their productor (I don’t really know what means - it’s not producer in the sense that we use it), Candido, who is a lovely guy and always looks after me. He said he would get us in after he went to fetch Elito from - guess where? - the balcony. After he left, drops of rain started falling and the crowd started to scatter. Not that there is much cover on offer at La Tropical. I just stayed where I was. It passed. For the moment. Candido came back, Elito-less - guess the rain put him off - and ushered us in.
A bit after 6.30, the band came on, mercifully - the reggaeton was doing my head in - without Elito, starting with 1999.
Dagoberto was fantastic, but then, he always is. I don’t give him enough props. His voice has a beautiful rough timbre live, and he uses it really well and knows how to work the audience. He has a nice natural presence on stage as well. There is something going on with him and Emilio, but I don’t know what it is - there is always a little onstage sparring between them. Seems good natured enough, but who knows. Emilio hasn’t been there long, but it looks like he throws his weight around a bit. I guess you can get away with that when you’re the boss’s son-in-law.
De que estamos hablando was next - this was supposed to be the launch of the eponymous disc apparently, even though it seems to have been around for six months or so. At the moment in the song when Elito should have arrived (they usually play it first) the band was left hanging, with the singers looking around. He finally turned up without his trademark cordless mic, and started yelling his catchphrases. The crowd went wild for some reason. The band has four great singers and he doesn’t really add anything. The work of the directors here is sometimes a bit of a mystery, on stage, at least. Aisar is the one who pretty much directs the arrangements en vivo. (And on record, I believe, as well.)
The set, regrettably, didn’t include Ya se cantar or Open the door, which meant it was all high energy (with the exception of 1999): Dale agua al domino, Niña relajate, Mi salsa tiene, a potpurrit of oldies, Madrugada, Jonron, Chichi and Agua pa Yemaya, which is the closer now, as I guess it has become something of a hit.

The negrita spies her true love

A 50- or even 60something negrita in a bright pink top and white flip skirt clambered on to the stage to dance - specifically with Emilio. He managed to get her to get back down. Then she got back up again. And again. And again. Security was called. She got back down. She got back up. Emilio was really bothered - well she did keep rubbing herself up against him, and it was clear she wasn’t getting the message that he wasn’t interested (and that his GF was right behind them on keyboards). He pleaded with her to get off the stage and let him sing. She did. Then she got back up again. “Seguridad!” he called, in a mock comic fashion, but by now he was pretty exasperated. They weren’t really that interested in helping him. But they finally came and got her again and helped her down - she started hitting them. Then, uh-oh, she was up again. Emilio had been talking in her ear, but finally, during Niña relajate, he improvised a guia saying te portaste mal negrita, among other things. I didn’t get it all but judging from the expression on pianist Pachi’s face it was a bit full-on and highly entertaining.
When it was over there was the usual palaver getting transport - a street full of people and no cars to speak of. One bus stopped, but I didn’t really want to be another sardine in that tin, so I led my companions down to Casa de la Musica - it was a bit further than I remembered. It’s the kind of walk that’s fine when you’re on your own but you feel a bit embarrassed about when you have people in tow. Of course Bamboleo had just ended so there were mostly illegal taxis and my friend wanted to go down to 31 so we went down there and waited and talked about the rise in gun crime in Havana until a taxi came. (Took a wee while.)
Ate some rice and pork in my friend’s solar then came back for a brief rest before the midnight sojourn to Miramar for Havana D’Primera. Didn’t get there until about 12.30 which would be a good thing normally but they didn’t start till about 1.30 - I don’t know if Alexander had played the closing night of the jazz fest but whatever the reason it was an hour of excruciating reggaeton and strobe lighting which just about gave me a migraine before the band started. I saw a girl at the bar with glasses. I assumed she was a foreigner and said were you at La Tropical today? She said, yeah. I said, I saw you there. Her friend said: she was the only white person there. And I said, well, and me. And I could have added: “And Suzell (from Revé).” And I’m sure there were a few others, but whatever.
They invited me to their table. Turns out they were Cuban, but there was an Italian boyfriend buying mojitos and Añejo especial. I couldn’t stay out there long though cause of the luces, and retreated back to the bar area. After an eternity in the inferno, HdP hit the stage. Thank fucking christ. Lucky I’m so zen when I’m here - once the shit is over it’s over - gimme the good stuff and let it work its magic. Got some good video of one of the new songs that has the refrain “Ella está con su carrito passaporte”. I hope to do an interview with Alexander soon and talk about the new songs, among other things. (Maybe get the lyrics right.)
Speaking of passports, this is the week I have to go and spend all day in immigration renewing my visa. Fingers crossed I only have to spend one hour there instead of five.
Anyway, back to the gig. Yandy had bass trouble, which was a bore. The electric only worked for part of the night so there was less funk than usual, less slap and less of Alexander yelling “Yaaaandy!!!!”
BTW I think I forgot to say that Rodney Barretto is absent cause he broke is finger, and the doctor has told him he can’t play at all if he wants to recover properly. The current gang is doing a swell job though. The new guy, on bongo/bell and occasional conga looks like a fucking Italian model. Not sorry to have him on stage.
Azucar Negra’s Ailyn was in the audience with Salsa Mayor’s Yasser. They were alone together. Shall we start a rumour? Salsa Mayor are on this Saturday, finally. Alas: HdP are playing La Tropical!! Talk about all my Christmases coming at once. Having said that, if transport is an issue, I don’t know if I can go. Maybe it’s worth braving the lone walk down to 31 at 2am. Sigh.

Bailando en La Tropical: Pt 1

2010-12-20T15:26:00.002+11:00

It’s 8.45 on Saturday night and I’m watching Descarga. Paulito is doing a rocking Santana-style cha-cha-cha with David Blanco. I know that sounds pretty horrible, and PFG has done some shit in recent years but he can still sing, man. He just finished miming to a song from the last album, and his band had Pavel, ex Salsa Mayor, among the coristas. Don’t know if Pavel is still doing that. It might have been recorded some time ago. Although El Charangon, who were on Donde si no/23 y M tonight, recorded it last week (on my birthday to be precise).

(God I hate the name of that show: if you call it 23 y M, whoever you’re talking to will go, ah, Donde si no, and vice versa. You can’t get it right.)

I’m just back from Duni’s where he cooked me fish with garlic and cumin. It was great. I wish the restaurants/paladares would do more interesting things. All most of them do is throw the meat in the pan with a shitload of oil and 100 shreds of onion.

Oh fuck; there is a Mariachi band on now. Might be time to turn the sound down. I had forgotten what a service Richard at Mucho Swing does by editing out the shit. I swear one of the hosts is the lunchtime newsreader. Looks weird to see her flouncing around in flimsy leopard skin.

• • •

As I was still feeling fragile on Thursday after Wednesday’s migraine, I kept a low profile. I went to Duni’s and patted the dog. He kept urging me to go to Matanzas to see Pupy play that night. After that recent weather report and my recent ill health I decided against it. Went down to Centro to buy some sneakers - gonna need more than one pair of close-toed shoes if this weather keeps up, although actually it was sunny and warm and and I stripped down to a T-shirt on the way back (woohoo!).

I tried to talk myself into going to the Trabuco matinee at Cafe Cantante. I figured I could have fun if some mates were going but I couldn’t find any takers. I wished I could be like some people who just go and dance with randoms - Trabuco are, after all, still a good dance band, but the thought of the high price this would cost (in patience, beers, and eventually, unwanted physical attention) just made me depressed and go to bed to watch the third, very good instalment of Sherlock.

Because I’d done fuck-all on Thursday I went to a Bamboleo matinee at Galiano on Friday. I know: get the fuck out, right? Who’d have thought. But really, I was bored out of my mind. How cruel that the day two of my favourite bands played I was too sick to go, and once I’d recovered there was nothing that really inspired me. But I hadn’t seen Bamboleo since about I dunno, 2008 or maybe 07. So I thought, wtf.

I didn’t rush down there and I swung by Duni’s place in the way. Saw Uyuni in the street with his two little girls - I love bumping into random musos here. It’s so cool. The Peru tour of both Havana D’Primera and Salsa Mayor is off. Cancelled seriously at the last minute (the day before they were due to fly out). Good for me: HdP are on Sunday night now at Miramar, como siempre. I’d actually like to see SM. They played the first week I was here in Havana but haven’t been sighted since then. Might have to bail Maykel up if I see him at gig and ask him what’s going on.

Anyway, I got to Galiano at 7 - I thought it would be a seething mass but although it was busy it was far from full - less people than for Trabuco’s matinee on Mondays. I suppose when you have two gigs yet to play on the weekend, it’s a tough sell. The DJ was playing some pretty lame PR salsa. Some of that new stuff has a slightly timba bass line, but it can’t cure all the prevailing ills.

The band came on at 7.20, Tanya in a asymmetrical top with one flowing sleeve which I thought was quite brave. Their opener/welcome was Pantolones, which meant we wouldn’t be getting the full version (like Azucar Negra with Estres. Such a waste of a good song.) They have a guy with bleached blonde hair sharing vocals now. He’s basically the full dufus. The other guy has been there for a while. He’s the one who sang that vaguely Epyptian salsaton hit from a couple of years back. I should know both his name and the name of the song, but, well.

Tanya looked bored whenever she wasn’t singing lead, but La que manda sounded great. I do like that song a lot. Her voice was kinda buried in the mix, so it took the Ethel Merman edge off it. They did a song they referred to as an “estreno”, which means it could be anywhere up to six months old. It was a very good funky number.

Apart from that, the songs all had a sameyness - I think Lazaro spends too much time drinking Chivas at various matinees with cronies and not enough time working - and although I was surprised when the curtain came down at the end of just an hour, and Amigo Juan Pescao, I wasn’t disappointed.

The rest of the night was quiet. Duni and I went to a late dinner. Our favourite restaurant on Zanja was shut for some reason, so we went to a not-very-good one at the entrance to Chinatown. It filled a hole.

When I came home, Dollhouse was on tele. ¡Win!

• • •

On Saturday we got to La Tropical to see Pupy at 11 and there was a conspicuous lack of commotion out the front, signalling that it wasn’t very busy inside. Suspicions were confirmed upon entry. Quite a paltry crowd which built to decent, but not to massive - the mezzanine was deserted. I didn’t really understand it - a kick-arse band for 25MN/$5 on a warm night in a great venue. There was a better deal in town somewhere I didn’t know about?

Michel was there. He didn’t get up and sing, which isn’t a surprise considering one of the reasons (among others) he was supposedly kicked out of the band is because he hit Noro after the curtain came down at Galiano one day. I guess I was surprised that he was there at all. Pavel la Figura was there with a couple of chicas. When I saw him at the end he was sitting in the same chair he had been in at the beginning of the night. I asked a friend if she saw him get up. She said, yeah he got up to go to the toilet. Good to see Los Que Son Son had an effect on him.

The band kicked arse, despite the vacuum that is show pony Noro. I think I’ve whinged enough about him for now, so unless there are any new developments, I’ll keep that to a minimum from here-on in. The real star now is Dayan, who I have been championing since I saw him with Charanga Forever in 2006. Azucar Negra miss his presence so I was really pleased to see he wasn’t wasted with Pupy. He’s doing some of the songs Mandy did and mostly making them his own I think. Obviously he has a completely different vibe. (There aren’t many who have Mandy’s vibe.) But Dayan is a package: he can sing and improvise, he can dance and knows his rumba. Yohan who has taken over Pepito/Norberto’s songs fares less well; but they are both hard acts to follow. There must be someone in Havana who can fill their shoes, but I don’t think it’s him. His voice is thin and he totally strains on the higher notes. He’s kinda funny though.

They started with Que cosas tiene la vida, as usual, and to be honest I wish Pupy would retire that. They play it too fast and I don’t think it really works. Obviously Pupy thinks I’m wrong. Heh.

El Noro was next on Ni bombones ni caramelos. Lacklustre vocals; totally kicking performance from the band. We were at the side (seems the only time I can get “backstage” at La Tropical is when there isn’t a melee out front and it isn’t really necessary), which gave a good opportunity to hear/see the percussion really firing together: Bombon on the drumkit, Albertico on timbales and Duni on congas. Very tight and powerful.

La machucadera, sung by Dayan, was seriously awesome. We were all sweating for that one. La Tropical is outdoors but as it’s downstairs (how does that work? did they carve it out of the ground, or is it a natural valley?) there is rarely even a breeze on the bottom level and as the band raised the levels, the clothes started coming off.

During one of Yohan’s songs, there was the most hilarious cintura event. This enormous woman - not just gorda, but tall as well - wanted to get on stage. She couldn’t do it herself and he had trouble helping her up - well, he is only a little thing. Finally she got up, along with two tiny skinny things (for balance, I suppose). She was really going for it, and when he said, p’al piso, instead, she picked him right off the ground. He was totally alarmed and tried to wriggle, not entirely successfully, out of her grip. He managed to get one leg onto the stage, but she held onto the other one. Pretty funny.

There was a new song sung by Noro which was a little underwhelming. There was Un poquito al reves, which has, I reckon, stood up really well, Timba a pogolotti and the closer, Loco con una moto, which must vie with Mi amiga chichi for dumbest Cuban timba song of the year. I’m dubbing it a tie. Jury is still out on which is the more annoying (Chichi may be ahead by a nose, or an irritating rhyme).

It had been more than a year and a half since I’d seen Los que Son Son - and they were mostly thrilling. My favourite Cuban bands live remain Pupy, El Charangon and Havana D’Primera. Not sure about the order.

Chisme, enfermedad y descanso

2010-12-19T07:16:00.009+11:00

Sunday arrived and the sun came out. I put a chair onto the balcony and basked in the glow. The fact that I stayed there for the better part of an hour tells you how grim the weather is here - I should have been scurrying in to the shade inside of 10 minutes.

I had reluctantly bailed on Reve at Galiano the night before and thought I’d nurse my flu some more, rather than venture into the urban wilderness of the Los Jardines de la Polar for the Pupy matinee. If I suddenly felt like shite and wanted to go home I didn’t want to be stuck at the arse end of Marianao.

There was a light sprinkle of rain in the afternoon but when Duni and his bro finally dropped around about 8, he said it rained a lot more in Marianao and the set was interrupted three times before they gave up. Probably not a bad one to miss. They’re playing a Wednesday matinee at Miramar, which is a bummer, cause Reve have one the same day at La Palacio, but if it goes late, I might be able to do both.

We watched a dance competition show on TV that Los que Son Son had recorded so long ago Michel was still with the group. Noro sang Ni bombones ni caramelos. That was kinda sad.

I’d organised a ride with Uyuni, who used to play trumpet with Pupy and now plays with HdP, out to Miramar, cause he lives right nearby and has mad wheels. He arrived at 12 on the dot, as arranged, and we drove to Vedado to pick up the pianist Tony and tecladista Harold. Uyuni was playing some CD - I couldn’t for the life of me work out who he said it was, but the singer sounded a lot like Calunga (but wasn’t) and there was a version of Reve’s Open the Door on it. Will get more details.

Things were excruciating at Miramar as you’d expect - horrible lighting and reggaeton for the entire time until the band came on.

They began with Solo para ti, which they always used to begin the set with when I first started seeing them in 2008. The horns were pretty ragged. I wondered if Uyuni had actually ever played it before. Nice song though. Good to hear it again.

Being a night gig, things were much more sedate than the previous Tuesday. But I wasn’t on my own down the front for very long. I’ve only ever been to one gig where Alexander couldn’t get people up dancing (he came off fuming, I recall).

They did a Latin jazz number - maybe in preparation for the Peru trip, I dunno. It was all right. It wasn’t a highlight or anything, but it was OK.

The great thing about going with Uyuni is that he wanted to leave immediately the band had finished. How awesome. The guirero, Yannell (I think), who I have never met before, joined us. He lives round the corner from down near San Lazaro somewhere.

• • •

So it seems Trabuco have two regular weekly gigs here now - Cafe Cantante on Thursday and Galiano on Monday (both matinees). The Cafe is 100MN and Galiano is 50MN (both are $10 for foreigners). That’s quite interesting. I guess as Galiano is bigger, and they always fill El Cafe anyway, they have decided to make the former cheaper. It works: both are full. I like Galiano better. Maybe the sound isn’t always good (it isn’t always good at El Cafe either) but at least if you arrive late you can still amble down the front and get a spot at the side.

I had dilly-dallyed and debated whether to go or not before telling myself oh for fuck’s sake, and getting off the bed and heading off at a brisk pace down San Miguel. It was 7.30pm when I got there and so quiet outside I thought maybe it was suspendido but actually the gig was just mid-stride and everyone was guarachando. Got there just in time for the Mayami slow funk-ish number which is my favourite of the new compositions. All right, there isn’t a whole lot of competition from my perspective, but I do like it a lot. I videoed it, but sometimes my trusty little Fujifilm 40d flakes out on me audiowise, and sadly this was one of those times. Will try again next week. Although it was far from tropical outside, it was the first time Mayami had performed without a scarf and blazer. His left hand was in plaster up to the pinky. The mind boggles.

The set isn’t varying much due, I’m assuming, to Andy’s limited familiarity with the Trabuco set, but this week they did the son 72 hacheros pa un palo with Pepitin on lead. Had a lovely almost classical solo from Manolito in it. He’s been getting down with the flourishes lately, but thankfully there was a lot less Stairway to Heaven in this one than there had been in the others. Looked like Andy was playing this for the first time - he was getting lots of signals from the conguero, Evelio (?).

Musica cubana sounded great, then just as it was taking off - you know that bit, the piano is carouselling, and the singers are rollcalling all the groups and then !dale calabaza al pollo! and it goes into some bloques with the horns, and it’s about to take you even higher and … instead, it all died away into silence, and they started playing La noche instead. Never has a coitus been more cruelly interruptussed. Jesus it was cold.

When Control played, I went for a walk. There was an old guy asleep in a chair on the mezzanine. I thought briefly about joining him. Someone asked me where my boyfriend was. They were referring to Jelien, who they had seen me talking to the previous Thursday at Cafe Cantante. Note: talking. Not kissing; not hugging; not dry-humping. He was only the first person to ask me this question. By the weekend I’ll probably be fucking married to him. (I hope we have a great reception. Someone please let me know how it went.)

• • •

Tuesday me and Masaco had arranged to go to the international artesan fair at PabExpo. Actually we had arranged to go on Monday, but big waves (3-4 metres) were predicted for the bay and she lives in Vedado, she spent the day moving furniture to the upper floor.

I woke with some lame stomach thing to add to my woes so we hung around waiting for that to pass then headed out there about 4. Not really early enough - there are apparently 300 stalls of stuff, mostly from Cuba but also from Colombia, Guatemala, Peru and so on.

There was some ordinary stuff and some really great stuff. Some lovely silver sculptures (in the vicinity of $5000 CUC and an elaborate statue of Caridad made of seashells (also $5000). There was furniture and trickets. A guy from Colombia had really great jewellery - mostly silver, paua and coral but all beautifully designed by him and his wife. Too bad I already have a lot of great stuff. Still bought a piece. And earrings for my mum.

I dropped Masaco off at La Tropical for some Cubadisco announcement (still don’t know what that was) and I went home and crashed on the bed before hauling myself up and back out west to Miramar for the Havana D’Primera matinee.

I’d missed Resumen de los 90 but better late than … I can’t be bothered to finish that cliche.

The place was totally full again. I’d thought (hoped) that without the fuckload of Fins it might be less crowded. In vain, it seems. There was really nowhere to stand but you know it’s HdP and Alexander is so captivating - he gives so much it seems churlish to ignore it.

For the first time this trip they did Cosas de un amigo - one of my very favourites, and I got a shout-out - on my own too, not in a big list. Woohoo! I think he was surprised to see me cause I’d arrived late.

My mate Yarima, who is over here from Sydney, was in the middle in the midst of writhing bodies and waving limbs, having the time of her life.

It was all good. It always with Alexander.

He said something about them playing with Reve on December 25 at La Tropical but then he said, Salon Rojo. When someone in the audience corrected him, he said “Salon Rosado?” and Jannier rolled his eyes, but now I am none the wiser as to the venue. Whatever. My two favourite bands on the same bill. Hope it happens; don’t care where. Fucking awesome Christmas present man.

• • •

Wednesday held the promise of a Pupy matinee at Miramar with a late matinee with Reve at Palacio. I had a Spanish class at 1, but I had woken with a headache and as the day progressed into regrettably grew into a migraine. By 7 - matinee time - I was riven with nausea and pain and lying in a darkened room drugged to the eyeballs and feeling very sorry for myself indeed.

I had the blanket and bedspread doubled and two shawls over me and I was still cold. Got down to 13C in Havana and 1.9C in Matanzas apparently. I might mug a Cuban for a puffy jacket if this keeps up.

The reports were that the Pupy matinee was packed, and Pepito got up and sang. :( Reve was fun as well, I was told. That’s hardly surprising. Sigh.

Cafe rico y Azucar Negra

2010-12-14T08:22:00.004+11:00

Wednesday there was nothing of interest on - Galiano has been shut for a part of the week for “duelo nacional” - national morning for the death of Che Guevera and another revolutionary, whose name, in a fit of sacrilege, I forget. (I don’t know why the other venues weren’t affected by this.) Also there were “actividad privada”s on the cartelera and PMM Light - a must-miss. Miramar had Los Cuatro por la tarde (no thanks) and Adalberto for the night. I don’t remember what was on at Cafe Cantante. Monica Mesa was at Delerio Habanero por la noche as usual.
I made an expedition to 70 and 3rd to buy the good coffee - bought four bags - one for Duni and his wife who are coffee freaks - one for me to drink here and the rest to take with me when I go. They had like 200 packs of it, but I haven’t seen it anywhere else and who knows how long it will last.
I realised late in the day I was coming down with something. I dropped the coffee in to Duni, then stopped by Egrem to see the Enrique Alvarez project, but they had already left so I went back home and had a quiet one. Watched some episodes of the British series The Misfits, which is really something. The night got cold - it’s getting down to 15C which may not sound cold to you snow bunnies of the north but when your house has doors and windows with open slats and no heating and it’s on the third floor that’s pretty fucking cold. I went to bed with the bedspread doubled and two shawls over me, and a t-shirt and long sleeved top and I was still cold. I woke up to rain. It was pretty miserable.
Disco Fiesta said nothing about Trabuco at El Cafe but they were on the cartelera and when I sent a message to Chino asking if they were on he called me back and said yes they were. Guess Manolito didn’t want to pay for the promotion and figured that the word would get out. He was right: although they hadn’t played there for a couple of weeks everyone seemed to know about it - locals and foreigners alike. That’s some weird Havana osmosis right there.
I got my shit together and got down to Egrem to find Revé’s Aisar in the control room with Egrem’s sound engineer and Dayan, who plays with Adalberto. A timbalero, Lazarito, was dropping some bloques and fills onto a couple of songs and it was pretty interesting to see them all at work. Lazarito is a skinny white guy who looks about 18, and, as it turns out, is. Dayan was yelling at him from the control room what he wanted, “No, no! Kunk-ku-kunk-kunk!” Or whatever. It was pretty interesting. The project, which will be called El son del Oriente, is in its early stages - all the instruments I could hear - piano, etc, were just guides. I’ll go back next week to see the violins go down.
About 4pm I decided to go looking for Vitamin C - had to go to the farmacia in La Sevilla - I hadn’t known there was a farmacia in the Sevilla, so that’s a good bit of info. Saves me going to the bloody Libre whenever I need something.
I decided to go to the Cafe as late as I could, and ended up standing on the corner of Zanja and Belascoain for a good 20 minutes, which is tolerable when there isn’t a chilling wind blowing up from the Malecon. Cause my house is so cold as well I was just frozen right through to my bones. Had a lovely taxi driver who chatted amiably without trying to hit on me at all. I almost asked for number.
Outside, Jelien was waiting for Lazarito, so he could get him in for free. I had no desire to descend until the band started so I stayed with him outside talking for about 25 minutes until the cold got the better of me and he got fed with waiting. The band started soon after we got down. I took one look and realised I was not in good enough shape for the Cafe crowd. The tiny dance floor was packed. I walked around the outskirts and just didn’t have the energy to grapple with the beast. I said hello to Elito who was there with a posse - Andy is still on drums - then sat in a chair for a couple of songs before I went for a walk and found Martin, who was hanging back as well. His brother was in the pit getting right into it.
Amaray was hitting some bum notes and so was Pepitin. I reckon Mayami is the pick of the singers at the moment, and I’m not just saying that cause he’s the hottest. The bass sounded great, as it has lately - Chino is really doing a bang-up job. Great horns. Couldn’t hear the strings. Lazaro Valdes was drinking rum with Elito and got up for Ya no hace falta, which is Trabuco’s Cafe specialty. They don’t do it anywhere else, and they let the crowd sing it. I scurried down the front for that. Sang my guts out. It was fun. They followed it with Dijiste mentiras. Ditto. There was no time for Locos por mi Habana so they finished with Marcando la distancia. The lights came on and the crowd poured into the narrow exit/entrance singing the coro from Mas que nada which finishes the live version of the song. It was kinda insane. I just thought, if there is a fire right now, we all die.
Home by 9.30 and pancakes with yoghurt and maple syrup for dinner. Mmm, nutritious!

• • •

Friday was my birthday and the day the flu hit me hard. Oh noes! There wasn’t anything pressing on - some yumas were going to Egrem for Rumberos de Cuba, which I wouldn’t have gone to had I been fit. I went and hung out at Duni’s place and patted the dog, and when I told him how old I was he danced and sang “Abuela! ¿Qué pasaría?” Very funny. In return I made fun of his panza, that he collected while on tour in Europe. Oh it’s a beautiful friendship.
I came back and took it easy, really. Been burning through The Misfits. Awesome show. Look it up. Watched Easy A. Awesome movie. Give it a shot.

• • •

Saturday was a matinee larga with Azucar Negra at Palacio de la Rumba and Elito at Galiano. In theory one could probably have caught the Combinacion de la Habana matinee before Azucar Negra as well. I spent the day in bed drinking effervescent vitamin C and trying to recuperate. After last week, I put off going to El Palacio as late as I could - watched the news and whatever else, and finally went down about 9. A Finish girl, Satou, I had met a week ago was there - I had told a few people about the gig but she was the first - and in fact the only foreigner there, although the crowd wasn’t large. Satou said a rumba band had just finished, that they didn’t play for very long (unlike last week) and that they were good. The DJ was playing all salsa. Awesome, dude. Masses of Revé. A group got up and did a rueda, with a woman calling. Don’t think I’ve ever seen that here. Dayan, who used to sing with AN and is now with Pupy was there, sitting at a table with about six attractive women and no guys. Well, why wouldn’t you?
The band came on a little after 9.30. Ailyn was wearing all white. She wasn’t her usual stylish self - her shorts were baggy - where were her skintight skinny jeans? But she was great as usual. She got everyone up for the opening number, the introductory theme and the crowd - less than for Revé but enough of us to have a good time - was keen to get into it. I was surrounded by smiling, dancing people. I love that.
Dayan’s replacement is a prieto with masses of hair. He’s not bad but I missed Dayan’s energy and charisma. He got up for a little bit of Identidad. Limonta seemed to be enjoying it - he was smiling at least - which was a nice change from bandleaders incapable of hiding their displeasure at whatever it is that hasn’t gone their way.
Last time I was here La Palacio had great lights but this time half of them a missing, and they have these brutal white spotlights shining down on the crowd and effectively backlighting the band. Take your sunnies if you’re going to stand down the front.
Some guy asked me to dance and I thought oh all right but a few bars in a woman came over - the caller from the rueda group - and swapped my guy for hers. Whatever, he was a good dancer, so OK.
I was in far from tip-top shape and probably should have been using my energy to fight the bug rather than dance, but aw, you know, I couldn’t help myself.
Martin and his brother, Joaquin, were there with a gang from Centro. Joaquin had been determined to see NG la Banda the previous night at Miramar and before the lurgy hit, I had intended to go with him. The report was as follows: $15 entry; El Tosco wasn’t there; the only Cubans in attendance were jineteras, and half of those left when they realised there were no foreigners left to score with. The band came on at 2.30am and played four songs. The DJ played reggaeton. Sounds like a great night. Totally bummed I missed it.
Martin hadn’t been to La Palacio before and really liked it (you’re not allowed to smoke inside for one, you have to do it in the lobby) and we were commenting on the fact that there were very few foreigners there and he said, well, that will change if you write about it on your stupid blog.

Christmas in Havana: Week 2

2010-12-10T04:36:00.002+11:00

Thought I’d go to Trabuco late. I mean I liked them last week, but I didn’t like them as much as I hate all the shit that goes on before the band goes on. I got there at 7.05. It wasn’t late enough. The DJ segued from reggaeton into house, with a strobe. My very favourite. It was again very busy. The band didn’t come on till 7.45 - plenty of time to be bored, miserable, and asked where I was from by friendly locals. At one point I went and waited near the bag check, and contemplated going home. Then the Casa de la Musica Galiano theme song came on and I went in and I was glad I hadn’t left.
Again the sound was good - nice and strong - unlike Havana D’Primera, they bring some of their own front of house with them (most bands do). It pays off. Again most of the songs were new, with the exception of Musica cubana and, in a nice twist, El aguila. Always great to hear that one. (Pretty sure I’ve said that before.) Weird that they are doing absolutely no songs from Hablando en serio. Not Comunicate; nothing. I don’t know where the slow song comes from that Mayami sings but it has a great groove. And he both sings and performs it beautifully. They did La Habana me llama, which I didn’t hear last week. Had a nice dance with a guy called Lester for that one.
There was too much Amaray as usual. At one point as he struggled - and failed - to reach a high note, I thought I saw him laugh. Well it was kind of funny I suppose.
Andy is still subbing for Riveron. He told me exactly what was wrong with Riveron’s lung but the medical term in Spanish escaped my comprehension. Everyone keeps saying Riveron “estar de reposo” so I guess he’s on the mend. I asked the bass player Chino how it was playing with Andy. He said, just like playing with Riveron, only he’s smaller. Joker. He is using Riveron’s kit and I noticed the kick drum kept getting away from him and he had to keep dragging it back. Funny.
Alexander was there and got up for some trumpet on La noche, then they did a latin jazz thing especially for him to solo on. It was nice and funky and had him trying to get the audience to mimic his increasingly complicated licks. By now it was after 9 - I’ve never seen a matinee go long at Galiano before, except for those by Van Van which were scheduled to do so. Manolito led the band into Locos to close and I noticed that Jelien, formerly of Maravilla de Florida had jumped onto violin although he looked really different from the last time I had seen him, maybe in 2008. I had seen Maravilla on the show 23 y L/Donde si no on Saturday before I went to La Palacio and thought “man, I don’t recognise a single muso - have they all left the band?” But now I just wondered if it was his new hairdo that had thrown me. Turns out he had left the band and was now playing with Charanga Latina. They’re in the Egrem studio near my house all this week. I might go down and see what’s shaking.
During Locos por mi Habana I moved to the aisle in the centre, just for fun, where I didn’t realise a cola of tipos was waiting for me. As I knocked each one back another would immediately appear in his place, asking if I spoke Spanish, where was I from, did I want to dance. When the fifth one appeared in rapid succession, I ran like a girl, back to the corner in front of Pan con Salsa, stage right. Only one followed.
My new fuck-me hairdo (I must remember to get a fuck-you hairdo next time) and the 50MN cover charge is a deadly combination.

I told Andy I’d see him later at Miramar for Reve and he said, no I think it’s cancelled, call Aisar. I sent him a message but he didn’t get back to me so at 11 I rang the Casa. No answer. At 11.30 I called back. Someone picked up and said Elito was on, and I said it isn’t suspendido? And he said no. I was almost disappointed. I dithered about whether to go but eventually went out into the street about 12.15. It was pretty cold; and pretty deserted as usual, except for a guagua that I guess had broken down, and a couple of cop cars that were hanging around it. I waited about 20 minutes for a taxi. The driver was the very chatty Jose Ramon. He dropped me off just as the opening strains of De que estamos hablando sounded. OMG perfect timing. The crowd was adequate but not ample and was less than enthusiastic. At times I was the only person dancing down the front. Elito wasn’t impressed but I was happy to just not be sliding around in spilt rum and fighting with drunks a la Palacio de la Salsa. The set was short (one hour) but perfectly formed. It was great to hear Niña relájate and Open the Door. When they followed the latter with Ya sé cantar I thought they’d made a terrible mistake, playing two midtempo songs in a row, but Suzell got a bunch of people (mainly girls) up and dancing.
The sound was great. I actually felt like I was hearing Andy for the first time. Which is a weird thing to say, especially as in Trinidad on the last trip I was on stage standing behind him. But I was tired on that trip.

• • •

I spent the next afternoon shooting the shit with Duniesky, from Pupy y los que Son Son. He said the European tour was a bit disorganised and he was pretty happy to be back home.
He played me an interesting track by a guy from Grupo Danson (forget his name), arranged by Alain Perez. Sounded a lot like Issac (unsurprisingly). It was pretty good.
The French singer Orly is in town and she is organising a gig with various musicians including Duni, Vania, Maikel Blanco and I forget who else. She must have quite a budget. It’s Saturday night at the Hotel Kohly. No idea if it’s open to the public but there is other stuff on - Azucar Negra in a matinee larga at La Palacio; Reve at Galiano por al noche. Also Duni says Pupy is playing Los Jardines de la Polar on Saturday but Disco Fiesta says it’s Sunday. Guess I’ll have a better idea what’s what later in the week.
Tuesday matinee was Havana D’Primera at Miramar. It was as insane as last week. I fart-arsed around and didn’t get there till about two minutes before they went on. The only space at the front of the stage was in front of the speaker. Too loud: I had to move back. There was a fuckload of Fins there, among other foreigners. I’m beginning to think it’s more fun here in June-August when it’s just me and the locals. Of course not all the bands are here then, so …
Martin, who came with his GF and his brother who is on town from Canada for the week says I’m to blame for the crowds because I rave about the band so much on the blog. Grrrr.
BTW, HdP are shite. Whatever you do, do not go and see them.
OK, mentira.
Tony was back from his whirlwind tour with Carlos Varela. Rodney was still AWOL. The conditions weren’t perfect but I still enjoyed it, cause it’s Alexander. As we left, Martin heard a guy say, “Going to see Alexander is like having an orgasm.” A-fucking-men to that.

Agua pa' todos

2010-12-07T07:00:00.001+11:00

Saturday El Charangón were scheduled to play at Palacio de la Rumba - they had had three Havana gigs lined up (the third is today) and this was so unusual, I intended to go to all of them, cause you never know, they may only play el campo for the rest of my trip, plus, if their visas for the States come through (which they probably will), they’ll be off on the 26th, and that’ll be the last I see of them.

Elito had been on Disco Fiesta on Friday saying they would be playing at 7pm, and Aisar, the group’s bass player confirmed it. Well at 7pm a rumba group started playing and they didn’t stop for 90 (!) minutes. The crowd, which was smallish when they began, slowly built. They had a guy playing a kit - a kick drum and a snare, among other things, and Masaco told me that their tema was “rumba con reggaeton”. Something in their melodies struck me as discordant and after about 60 minutes I fled the room and went outside where I found Aisar and the tresero (whose name eludes me right now) in the street. Aisar said he was dying of hunger so we went looking for food. Up on Infante, we found one quarter of El Charangón crowded around a street pizza bar. In a sit-down cafe, were some foreigners who had also left El Palacio in search of food. Lucky for Elito, they all returned.

The band finally went on at 10pm. It was pretty crazy there by then. Some people had been there for three hours drinking rum. There were clearly a lot of regulars. There was one older woman - she looked like she was in her late 50s, but seeing as she was Cuban, you can add 10 years. She was wearing massive hoop earrings and a man’s hat perched at a rakish angle, a halter top and trousers. She was dancing in bare feet. By 11, I didn’t even want to be dancing on that floor shod, much less barefoot. Another younger girl in a bright orange top and false eyelashes didn’t stop dancing for the entire set. She danced by herself, completely in her own world.

The foreigners I had seen at Egrem and Havana D’Primera were there again. And there were plenty more. There was one woman on her own for the entire four-to-five hours. She reminded me of myself. I would have spoken to her but I was mindful of every time I have wanted to be by myself here and people just won’t leave me alone. (On Sunday I saw her walking by herself on San Miguel, probably going back to the Palacio for the matinee.)

Revé’s set was all fun, but no Ya sé cantar; more rumba-style stuff, not surprisingly, given the location. The three male singers all take turns on Mi salsa tiene now - I guess that’s Sinsonte’s trade-off for a place in the front line. He’s really basking in the limelight. He’s very funny; a good show man.

It was a good show as usual. Even with the inclusion of Madrugada. (That’s the other song I don’t like.) The unruly crowd and the slippery floor wasn’t really conducive to my mood though. You can add lack of sleep to that. It didn’t improve on Sunday when the owner of my casa played the radio full bore literally all day - from about 11 till I asked him to please turn it down at 9. I was exhausted from the constant noise. Often the terrace it was playing on was completely devoid of people. I spent the day locked in my salon trying to block out the sound by watching TV (a really shit episode of The Mentalist - that might be a tautology - and Date Night). I was desperate for some sleep but it was out of the question.

When he finally turned it down I decided to take advantage of the quiet and go to sleep instead of going to see HdP at Miramar. A combination of exhaustion and the thought of waiting an hour in the strobe lighting with the reggaeton blaring for the band to come on. After yesterday, I just didn’t think I had it in me.

Elito in the city

2010-12-07T06:46:00.003+11:00

"Yes, I'm talking to you!" Revé's Sinsonte is never camera shy.

I had seen on the cartelera, through the craziness that was Havana D’Primera’s peña, that Revé was playing the matinee the next day at Miramar. I gave a little whoop of joy to the consternation of absolutely nobody cause the lobby was total chaos and no one was paying any attention to the crazy foreigner.
Inside the DJ was playing reggaeton, but it was almost 7 and I didn’t have long to wait before the band hit the stage. Sinsonte has been moved to the frontline, which makes sense - I always thought it was kind of insulting to have him tucked away behind the other singers, only letting him out to sing Mi salsa tiene, then shooing him away again.
They opened with De que estamos hablando and I quickly realised that months of sedentary life in Sydney had left me unprepared for a matinee with El Charangón, but I did my best to keep up. Unfortunately, the set consisted almost entirely of songs that I really like (ie no Telefono or Dinero), so I was forced to keep dancing. It wasn’t as packed as for HdP but you rarely see Miramar as crowded as that so it wasn’t surprising and there were still plenty of people ready to scoot down the front and dance.
My favourite songs from the last album were all in attendance: Hablando, Niña relajate (with a coro from Tumbao Havana’s Padrino, which Emilio used to sing) and Suzell’s Ya se cantar. She has such a beautiful, strong voice, without ever screaming. And the little chat she gets going in it is a lot of fun too. It would be nice to see what else she can do.
Of course they played Chichi, which is the big hit with everyone but me, and gives me an opportunity to rest. But I found it hard to get up again for the closer, Agua pa Yemaya, which included not only Elito blessing the audience with water as usual, but a chick in a long blue orishas frock with a cigar dancing on stage. She’d been in the audience all night but afterwards she got changed into street clothes, so I guess it was kind of planned.
• • •
Thursday was a day off from music. I went to my pal Martin’s for an exceptionally good dinner and shot the shit. Talked about music and the imminent mass sackings (they’re starting with 500,000 in January. Then apparently, they’re going to see what happens before there are any more) among other things. He gave me cheese and a little packet of unbelievably good coffee called Monte Rouge, which I’m now on a mission to find. There were no interesting matinees - PMM Light (?) at Galiano; Ray Fernandez (?) at Miramar, I-don’t-know-what at Cantante. Tumbao Habana were at El Cafe for the night but I wasn’t even considering going. Too knackered. I have plenty of time. Well I say that now. It will be a different story in a month when I’m going, OMG! Only three weeks to go! Anyway, I’ve seen a pretty impressive list so far, so I feel I can take a break. Pretty sure TH will play again.
• • •
Friday afternoon I arranged to meet rumbera Masaco at Egrem on San Miguel (they’ve painted it, BTW, it’s now a blue-grey rather than the heritage blue) for Rumberos de Cuba. That place is such a stupid shape - it’s like a T, and the band plays in the T-bar part, but wherever they played would be inconvenient. It was pretty packed, and with guys who thought I was carne fresca. One guy insisted on “helping” me find Masaco, then demanded a kiss for his help. When I said no he thrust he face towards mine anyway. I’m sure there is a way he could have been more obnoxious, but presently it doesn’t come to mind.
Masaco, bless her, left the band for a while to come and talk and we arranged to meet later as I wasn’t inclined to hang around. She took me to her casita in Vedado and made me a salad with sesame and soy dressing to eat with the lovely bean stew and rice prepared by the owner.
Watched a bit of the Ghost Writer and talked to the young blonde lady of the house, who had glossed her voluptuous lips and was off to Dos gardenias, which is farandulera central and the place of my nightmares.
Masaco and I were headed to Galiano for Havana D’Primera. We got there at midnight - way too early really, but at least the DJ wasn’t playing reggaeton. It was Puerto Rican salsa, but hey I’d rather die of boredom than apoplexy. There were a lot of foreigners there - some I recognised from Egrem that afternoon - that might have accounted for the PR salsa, and later, the smattering of timba. The band went on after 1 - maybe 1.15. Yaaaawwwnnnnn. Although everyone was dancing it wasn’t a really great atmosphere. Also regular pianist Tony is away in Europe - probably with Carlos Varela - and Rodney Baretto was absent as well. The guy who plays bell moved to timbales and they had a new guy who looked like he’d never played with them before. Tony’s replacement was some fresh-faced kid whose Mi musica solo was all pyrotechnics - big change from Tony’s, which is all gaps and delays.
The sound was horrible - muddy and bass-heavy. The lighting was shit for photos, so I just decided to enjoy myself. I was pretty tired though, from a week ligging. Tirso was there, hanging out with the Egrem jineteros and their enthusiastic foreign dance partners. Boy they had some energy.
The weather had developed a chill on Thursday and there were Cubans in the street in their puffy jackets. I’d left my puffy jacket back in Oz. It wasn’t really that cold during the day but I wasn’t prepared for the dip in temperature on Friday night. My satin bomber jacket, being 100 per cent polyester, is useful as windbreaker, but isn’t good for much else. Hopefully it won’t last.

La gente que son d'Primera

2010-12-03T07:34:00.003+11:00

I can see I’m going to have to get my net sitch sorted - I can’t be banging 2000-plus words on here once every three-four days - too much information for anyone. Admittedly, I’m unlikely to go on as I have been - I can’t keep going to matinees and night gigs - neither the wallet nor the body/mind will stand that.
Tuesday it was Havana D’Primera there, the regular Miramar afternoon gig, which was a complete madhouse. Absolutely packed and the band didn’t start till 7.45, as Alexander was off recording something for an end-of-year special. Fortunately I missed the dancing beer girls. Unfortunately I still had an hour of odious reggaeton to sit through. I was meant to be meeting timba geek Chris there, and also Japanese rumbera Masaco, but even though I did a circuit of the room, I didn’t see Chris till the end of the show and I didn’t find Masaco at all. Beer garden assembly prior to the gig for all future meetings methinks. I had no idea it would be so crazy. I mean the last Tuesday matinee I went to was busy, but it was nothing like this.Alexander rushed in, besando gente, and the band hit the stage - with Yandy, I was pleased to see, but disappointed to see he’d had a haircut. I liked his floppy haired look.
As the local fanatica had promised, it was a more uptempo set, starting with Resumen de los 90, but still containing Despues de un beso and the two new ones, which are all mid-paced. The also played another new one, which I had heard last time, a funky jam with the words “manos pa riba la gente que son de prima” (I’ll try and get a title for that one). It starts with some cool clavichord from Harold and continues the theme from there. There isn’t much to it; it isn’t much more than a groove. I don’t know if it’s going to be developed. Jannier says they haven’t yet recorded anything and I wonder whether Alexander has had much time to actually write any new songs, what with the band’s gigs and tours and all his guesting and jazz spots. A news report on some tribute concert - something to do Joaquin Betancourt - at which Alexander played, described him as “possibly the best trumpeter in Cuba”. Very diplomatic.
About halfway through the lights failed. A tecnico switched on a fluoro light at the back of the stage and the DJ switched on the strobes for the front of house which almost made me throw up on the foldback monitor in front of me. The band kept playing in the semi darkness and about ten minutes later the lights came back on. Tanya was up the back at a table, but she didn’t get up on stage - not enough time, man. An hour and 15 minutes is a short gig for Alexander. He squeezed in Ony Ony and Historia verdadera then it was time for Cuando el rio suena and then the houselights came on and it was over.
Salsa Mayor were on at Galiano, and I’m keen to see Pavel’s replacement, but I was knackered, and hungry, so Chris took me to Al Aljibe for something to eat. I’d never been there but it’s apparently kind of famous and the food - chicken, black beans, rice, platanos maduros (!) and it was very good. We ended up talking timba geek shit - and some other stuff till pretty late and the staff all but kicked us out, so I didn’t get an early night after all. But less taxing than another stint under the arctic air con at the front of the stage at Galiano.

Trabuco y Klimax

2010-12-03T07:27:00.003+11:00

I slept till 1.15 and missed all of Disco Fiesta. Bad timba geek! But I hadn’t gone to bed till 4.30 and it was the best sleep I’d had in a long time; I woke feeling pretty good.
I had a list of things a mile long I needed to do - the usual settling in; setting up the kitchen and whatever. First on my list was a visit to the solar that sells cow’s milk yoghurt on Mondays, but I didn’t get there till after 3 and the woman who sells it had run out. I’ll have to wait a week now, which is too bad cause not only does it taste good but it’s a great meal substitute. I went past the Etecsa on Zanja and kept right on walking when I saw the messy throng outside. Went down to Obispo where some random helped me get a sim. Thanks, mate. On the way home, I saw another random selling eggs outside the markets on San Rafael and I snapped them up. Hope he wasn’t standing there all day with them. Hello salmonella!
It was late when I got back and I hadn’t eaten anything all day except two crackers and cheese and three cafecitos. Cafecito can get you a long way, but it can’t get you all the way. The Trabuco matinee was coming up and I was practically passed out on the bed from jetlag et al, but I knew I would have to venture out for food anyway, so I got my arse up and down to Galiano. It was 7.30 when I got there and the band was well into it, playing to a packed house - turns out the reason they don’t do Thursdays at Cantante any more, is cause they do every Monday here. Riverón was still absent and Reve’s Andy was drumming his place. Looked a little dwarfed by the bateria.
They sounded a lot better than I expected. I have to admit, after last time, my expectations were pretty low. But the sound was good - a lot fuller and much stronger than on the last trip. Even the anaemic La noche sounded good. It was beefed up and reworked a little and really very enjoyable.
They were three-quarters through Control when I arrived (good timing!) and afterwards Mayami confidently worked a slow jam on the crowd. He was wearing some outrageously slashed jeans, with one conveniently placed hole offering easy access to his inaccessibles. “Todo lo que tengo es tuyo,” he sang. Uh-huh. Amaray’s jeans were so tight, it looked like he had a softball down there. The band played well, as they always do. Andy did a pretty good job filling in for Riverón. A bit less power and less frills. Bit more straight ahead. Riverón has a lung problem - that’s all I got before my conversation with Chino was interrupted by a fan.
Pepitin sang two songs that I saw - I imagine I missed about 30 minutes - Mayami two, and Amaray the rest. There were songs from the new album plus Locos por tus besos, Marcando la distancia (Pepitin) and Locos por mi Habana to close. Good to go out on a high note.

I walked by a house on Zanja that sells food and got fried chicken, arroz moro and salad (living dangerously!). The salad was a couple of shreds of lettuce and a tiny piece of yuca. The moro had one bean in it, but for $1.25 I shouldn’t grumble. I didn’t get sick.
Chris called to say some of the Baila Cuba crew were going to see Klimax at Miramar. The other option was Azucar Negra at Cafe Cantante with Alexander Abreu guesting. I was pretty keen on that, but given that the last two trips I’d passed up opportunities to see Klimax in the first week then never had the chance to see them again because they’d left on a tour or were doing something other than live gigs, I thought I’d check them out.
Miramar was quite busy, mostly jineteras and their clients; one poor girl was wearing the same strapless tartan mini she’d been wearing the night before for Havana D’Primera. Martin who lives here, has a theory that the female jineteras go to Miramar and the males go to Galiano. I told him that’s cause women who come here want to dance and there’s more room at Galiano. I have no idea if either of those things are true. Well, there is more room to dance at Galiano, but apart from that, no idea.
As Yandy hadn’t played with HdP the night before I expected that he would be playing with Klimax tonight - alas, no. Too bad. I like his style, not just musically but also his stage presence. Didn’t recognise his supplante.
They started with an uptempo number that was fun - four singers, including Piso 6’s Leo. Think it’s the same line-up they’ve had for a while. In fact most of the musos have been in the band for some time - the main band anyway - timbalero, conguero, piano, Yusef on teclados. Can’t speak for the brass as they were hidden up the back. I wonder how Piloto keeps his musos when they don’t work so often and I imagine don’t get paid a whole lot.
The singers had some beautiful harmonies and were energetic and worked very hard to win over the largely reluctant audience. But the night was marred but Piloto’s set choices - Oye como va leading into Cuba - two of the most miserable songs they have recorded, mashed up together; a “tribute” to Michael Jackson - Black or White - not one of Jackson’s best songs and not what I want to see Klimax do anyway. The highlight of the night was Leo’s rendition of Mi estrella - starting and closing with in the ballad style of the original, with a super funky mid-section and some new coros. It blew me away. If only the rest of the set had been more like it.

Havana D'Primera - suave por la noche

2010-12-03T07:12:00.008+11:00

Sunday, timba geek Chris picked me up from the Parque Central where I had been blogging, and we went out for dinner with some lovely Poles, Katya and Martin, who were out here for Baila Cuba. Chris gave me a leisurely report of the dance festival, including the week-long program of gigs at La Tropical. Precis: he thought Azúcar Negra totally nailed it; Revé were sloppy, and Manolito were good, despite the fact that they “don’t have any good singers”. Riverón was absent and the crowd were told that he had been sick for two weeks. Two weeks? He is either at death’s door or has gone to live with his brother in Toronto and they don’t want to tell anyone about it yet. I hope neither is true. I hoped to find out more that their Monday matinee at Galiano, as well as who his supplante was, as Chris didn’t recognise him.
We went to the restaurant on top of the restaurant at Nardo’s. Massive portions, all of it pretty good. The coffee was unbelievable. It was Serrano. I’ve always stuck with Cubita but you can bet I’ll be picking up a bag of Serrano next time I stumble across it.
I brought the posse back to my place to check out the terrace and hang over the balcony and look down at the street - there’s hours of fun in that - then they headed off to Palacio de la Rumba for some actual rumba, rather than the salsa which it dipped into last time I was here. I watched the end of some crazy movie with Elizabeth Shue and the guy from Sideways - not Giacametti, the other one, and played Plants Vs Zombies and waited for the appropriate hour to go to Miramar for Havana D’Primera. I thought I’d try calling a taxi, seeing as standing around Belascoain on one’s own at midnight can be uncomfortable. He took 20 minutes to arrive, but he could have arrived 20 minutes later I still would have had an age waiting for the band: I got there at 12:15 and they didn’t go on until an hour later. The place was really busy - punters were literally being bussed in. There was a Transtur coach disgorging people - a mix of foreigners and locals - as I arrived.
I don’t know why they went, because when HdP finally hit the stage, they pretty much all hung back. All good for us fanaticos though, as there was enough room to dance comfortably at the foot of the stage, which I suspect won’t be the case at the Tuesday matinee. There were two tiny flaccitas down the front with their novios - they hardly moved for the entire gig - they were literally unmoved by it.
They began with Mi musica, and I was so surprised I didn’t recognise it at first - so out of place at the top of the set, but it was beautiful and I felt like I’d been denied oxygen for the last six months and finally I could breath again. He took out my favourite bit - “quien dijo que todo está perdido? yo iba ofrecer mi corazon” - but of course there are plenty of other moments of beauty in it. I felt like I’d come home. A regular, whose name I forget, told me they change up the opening a bit, cause they’re doing smoother sets at night; wilder ones for the matinee. That’s got my name all over it then. (Jaja)
Despues de un beso was next. Alexander started it with clave from the audience and it was too fast and then when the band came in he was hassling Rodney to slow it down and they were all laughing. Next was Ony Ony. HdP have three fusion songs in the repertoire so far and they played the two that leave me lukewarm. Oh well. Two new songs were next. One has been fashioned from a coro - “y al final, la vida te la aplica” - of another older song, but danged if I can remember which one. MFF, not with me this time, may know. Both songs sounded very promising and I hope to get to know them well. The bass player, a stand-in for Yandy who was off doing something with Klimax, was playing one of them for the first time. If it weren’t for the sheet music, you would never have known. Niña bonita led to Barretto’s usual drum solo and a trumpet duet with Alexander and some young afroed chap. It was pretty good but these duels often turn into dick-pulling contests, and Alexander’s always going to win that. I’m still speaking figuratively, of course. I have no idea whether either of them actually pull their dicks and if so, how well they do it.
Bamboleo’s Tanya turned up at the side of the stage just as the band launched into Cuando el río suena - que lástima, I thought, but she was relatively painless. She’s dyed her hair black and got rid of that mumsy style she’s been sporting for the last 100 years. She looked a lot better. She seemed pretty pie-eyed but I think that’s probably par for the course. Another chap took the other mic - Issac Delgado’s sobrino apparently. He was a bit of a fish out of water. He was OK on the improv but when it came time to reference the coros of the reggaeton songs, he knew hardly any of them, even though they’re all been massive hits here, and he didn’t know all of HdP’s coros either. Not sure he was really qualified to bounce up there and take over, but there ya go. Tanya, tireless ligger that she is, knows all the words to all the songs that every band in Havana plays.