Posts: 11
Is this really happening: all my favorite bohemia Cuban artists (well, most of them) are straggling out of the dark corners of the night to put on a free show in broad daylight -- all together. Move over, Havana Abierta. Miami is pure Cubiche. See Latin Shows Live calendar for details.
Okay, so it was a screening, not a taping of the Julieta Unplugged show -- a bunch of journalists and MTV types hanging around Segafredo's, slurping free drinks and eating mini-pizza slices. When the video finally played in a little disco behind the cafe, Julieta was typically adorable. I really liked that she had 4 chicks in her band as well as a totally Sesame Street monster looking guy drummer with a wild Afro. She reached back in time to play my favorite tune, "Seria Feliz" (I'd be happy). It's true: I would be happy if I had enough time to do what I want and a place to express what I fell and a painter to paint me all the right colors.
OLD: Tonight Julieta Venegas is taping an Unplugged session for MTV3 at Segafredo in Brickell (which is in downtown Miami). I'm a little dubious about the venue: kinda cramped and broken up, but I always love watching Julieta perform. I'll let you know how it goes tomorrow morning.
Maybe politics is the new music industry. These days it seems like pop stars are more active promoting causes than new singles. Yesterday a group of Latin musicians and actors released a video pitching presidential hopeful Barack Obama to voters, just in time for Sunday's primary election on the island of Puerto Rico. The acoustic, subdued number is very much in the vein of Will.i.am's "Yes, We Can" video released in advance of the so-called Super Tuesday primaries in February — except it's in Spanish.
Funny thing about Puerto Rico: Since it's a U.S. territory, but not officially a state, island residents can't vote for the president in the general election — but in this year's crazy primary contest, they can have a big impact on who gets the nomination. Sadly, the myth propagated by the NYT columnist David Brooks, among others, that Puerto Rico might decide everything by awarding all 63 island delegates in a winner-take-all primary is not true, as Fact Checker Michael Dobbs revealed. The PR primary is not winner-take-all — it's just that usually there's only one candidate left by the time the show gets to the island, so there's no contest.
Not so, this year. All this Puerto Rican electoral power has both Obama and his rival Hillary Clinton literally attempting to dance their way into Boricuas' hearts. O does a kind of shuffle that maybe suggests a salsa step; H, beer in hand, sways from side to side to Enrique Iglesias like a raver at 3 a.m.
Just in case the candidates' dancing is not enough to sway the Boricua vote, producer and band leader Andres Levin gathered a bunch of his friends to make the pitch for their man. "Podemos Con Obama" (With Obama, We Can) features star power like Mexican candy-rocker Paulina Rubio and Spanish crooner Alejandro Sanz, along with lots of crunchier alternative types, like the earthy Mexican-American folk diva Lila Downs and Dominican Broadway darling Lin Manuel Miranda.
There are hardcore reggaeton stars like Don Omar and Voltio, a few telenovela actresses, and a pregnant Jessica Alba, who — unlike Obama — speaks in English, expressing her concern for the environment. In short, here's a whole lot of folks representing those "Hispanics" Hillary supposedly has all sewn up.
My favorite part of the video is the beginning, before any stars show up, before Obama says a few words in Spanish (if you think he's halting in his English delivery, he's really, really halting en espanol, but the accent's not bad): The video opens with the message that George W. Bush won the election in 2004 by just over 3.4 million votes. Next frame: More than 8 million eligible Latino voters didn't show up.
Oye, Boricuas, what are you waiting for? This Sunday, get out of your house and vote!
This is the break up album. Former Bacilos frontman Jorge Villamizar broke up with his wife, broke up with his band, broke his own heart. And true to his confessional style, the Colombian singer-songwriter wrote a new album to tell all about it -- called Jorge Villamizar, of course.
Gone in the break up: the organic, pan-Latin sound served up by Bacilos bandmates Andres Lopes and JJ Freire. The cute promises to his wife that he'd buy her designer dresses and a new house with his earnings from his first big hit, as in his first big hit "Mi Primer Millon" (My First Million).
If this is his second million, it sounds more like a million little pieces of his soul -- only every word of it is true. There are light moments: somewhere along the way he fell in love with alterna-babe Julieta Venegas, which explains his bouyant first single, "Ninguna" (No One -- as in "like you, there is no one" -- and when it comes to the gorgeous, uber-talented Venegas, I should say not).
For that single, he also hooked up (musically speaking) with veteran Colombian bass player Chucho Merchan, whose bright, bouncing rhythms helped define the '80s sound on recordings with Thomas Dolby, The Pretenders, Eurhythmics, Roxy Music, and on and on. So I would say this album has a less Latin American and more international pop sound -- except that, thanks to Merchan, international pop has apparently also been Colombian for a long time.
Anywho, I recently had the pleasure of grilling Jorge for five hours over two days (and some great gazpacho) about the rocky road he's traveled to get to this solo album. I'll be sharing the juicy details in my blog over the coming weeks.
In the meantime, you can hear all his self-doubts and wry self-deprecation set to a mostly snappy beat (especially searing: "Espejo" (Mirror), where the songwriter tries to convince himself that the guy staring at him is not as much of a loser or as bad a dancer as he's been telling himself he is and "Pequenos Romances" (Little Romances), where he figures out that a long string of exciting flings has gotten in the way of his maintaining a longstanding, meaningful relationship).
As for me, I miss the lush Latin sounds and sinuous dance rhythms of Bacilos. But, listen by listen, I'm getting to like this new guy. With each new play, I'm letting go of my old expectations, and finding so much new to love. Isn't that always the way with breakups?
Colombia has a seemingly limitless supply of traditional music ready to reinvigorate pop. Juanes has been mining the rhythms of his hometown Medellin and wowing crowds worldwide — making him one of the biggest-selling Spanish-language stars and earning him an official proclamation of Juanes Day in Los Angeles when his current La Vida World Tour stopped in the City of Angels last week.
Carlos Vives and, to a lesser extent, Shakira rocked up the rhythms of the Colombian coast and valleys before him. (Right about now, Colombia-philes are getting ready to complain about the lack of historical precision in these first two paragraphs. Stop! Colombia has too many rhythms and too many regions to explain in a quick blog entry. Look elsewhere for a detailed discussion of cumbia, vallenato, etc.).
Now Adriana Lucia is offering up another pop/folklore fusion, drawing from the music of her native province, Cordoba, Colombia. Porro Nuevo (New Porro) delivers exactly what it promises, a new version of the hip-twitching African-Indian-Spanish dance groove from the Colombia coast usually played with clarinets and big drums. She also throws in other coastal rhythms, like la champeta, which sounds a lot like West African soukous.
To make it new, Lucia enlisted Vives and his longtime collaborator, Andres Castro, as producers. I had the great fortune to hear a set of songs from the album Thursday night. As might happen at a house party (or "parranda") on Colombia's Caribbean coast, the 24-year-old singer set up on a dock, accompanied by Castro, and performed for a small group of well-wishers. As the sky turned rose, passing boats stopped to listen in.
Lucia quickly kicked off her high heels, which kept getting stuck in the cracks on the dock as she danced, and switched back and forth between sharing tidbits about country life in Cordoba and belting out fresh variations on songs for cowherding and drinking the thick, corn-meal drink chicha.
While Castro played lilting arpeggios and snappy beats, Lucia sang age-old country truths like "what you loved before/is what you hate now" and more folksy sentiments, like a love song for a fruit vendor carrying her wares on her head.
My favorite moment, after the sun had disappeared and the water of Biscayne Bay turned from blue to black, was when an audience member reminded Lucia of her promise to sing pure (not pop) cowherding calls at the end of the show.
Lucia is tiny, not much above five feet. She has the charisma and stage presence of a young woman who has been center stage (with her family's folk troupe) since she could walk and talk. As she belted out her pleas to the cattle to move along, sprinkled with little poems, such as "the breeze wears me out, but the soul never gets tired," I could almost imagine a herd roaming the tony streets of Key Biscayne.
We live in a brave new age of philanthropy, when billionaires circle the globe dropping their own hard-earned cash on seemingly intractable problems. Meanwhile working folk click through worthy websites, adding an almost equal amount of cash to the pile for causes such as fighting AIDS and tuberculosis and recovery efforts from New Orleans to Myanmar.
A big critique of this well-intentioned transfer of cash from the haves and sort-of-haves to the definitely have-nots is that it tends to focus on flashy, big-ticket items. There is no doubt that killer diseases and natural disasters require our urgent attention, but what seems likely to save more lives in the long run are less dramatic programs like mother-and-child health care, which helps people resist ravaging disease, and building up local infrastructure, which helps people weather the wrath of mother nature.
That's what's so remarkable about the "social movement" proposed by ALAS (Latin America in Solidarity and Action, or "wings" in Spanish). While there are plenty of natural disasters, warfare, and other dramatic events to go around in Latin America, the celebrities and entrepreneurs behind this new foundation have focused on one of the most mundane — yet perhaps the most important — factors in determining a person's well being: early childhood development.
I wish I could share with you some of the videos that played between acts at the ALAS concert in Mexico City (and I imagine in Buenos Aires too) last Saturday. They were full of all kinds of facts and figures about how most of our brains develop by the time we're three years old and our ability to grow and to learn are pretty much set by the time we're six. Maybe not the most gripping news you ever read, but the point is clear: if kids are well-fed, healthy, and schooled by age six, they will have a pretty good chance of staying that way the rest of their lives.
In the weighty words of the World Bank, "early childhood development is perhaps the most important investment that a nation can make to assure the quality of its human capital," because:
<blockquote>A child's ability to think, form relationships, and live up to his or her full potential is directly related to the synergistic effect of good health, good nutrition, and appropriate stimulation and interaction with others. A large body of research has proven the importance of early brain development and the need for good health and nutrition.</blockquote>
Not exactly the stuff most pop songs go on about. But if nothing else, the stars who have pledged themselves to ALAS have answered the age-old question: Do we really need another love song?
As long as it's about loving our kids, the answer is absolutely yes!
Among the shoe shines and magazine kiosks on the sidewalk along Cinco de Mayo Avenue in Mexico City last Saturday afternoon, two children played. A little boy of about four years old climbed on top of his older sister, who giggled and wrestled him away. Noticing a foreigner walk by, the children interrupted their game. The sister pushed her brother out in front of the foreigner, where he suddenly put on a mournful face and held out a tiny hand.
A few feet away, a young mother holding an infant in her lap held out her hand too.
The sight of mothers and children begging in the street is common across Latin America. So common as to seem almost natural, inevitable. Certainly, there's no need to raise awareness about the problem. It's in everyone's face, everyday.
But on this afternoon, where Cinco de Mayo turns into the Zocalo — the biggest plaza in the hemisphere — more than 250,000 people were gathering to entertain the idea that it's not inevitable for 32 million children to live in poverty. That, in fact, every child can be fed, clothed, housed, cared for, and schooled.
Well, really, most people came for a concert featuring 16 of the top pop acts in the Spanish-speaking world. But the message promoted by the concert organizers, ALAS (Latin America in Action and Solidarity or WINGs in English) was that childhood poverty across the hemisphere could be brought to an end in the next six years.
Unlike benefit concerts hosted by wealthy countries, such as Live Aid or Live 8, the ALAS concerts in Buenos Aires and Mexico City last Saturday did not call for any donations from the public. There was no admission fee for the concert, no drop boxes for food or clothes, no telephone hotlines or Internet addresses to make pledges (well, you can donate or volunteer here, dear reader — they just weren't making a big deal about it at the concert).
Instead, at a press conference a few days before, ALAS announced that Carlos Slim Helu — the richest man in Mexico and one of the richest in the world — had contributed $110 million to the cause. As a photo in the Mexican newspaper revealed, he received not only good will, but a kiss on the cheek from hot, Colombian rocker Shakira as well. Kicking in another $85 mil (although maybe not getting kissed) was Howard Buffett, son of billionaire Warren Buffett (whose largess has been destined largely for causes in Africa). Other wealthy folks ponied up a few more millions, bringing the total to more than $300 million.
So the concert was meant to shine a spotlight on their generosity? Or meant to pressure other wealthy folk to give too? Or maybe to put pressure on the various Latin American governments to take up the cause as well?
Standing among the 250,000 people in the audience on a rainy evening, it was hard to tell. Between acts, MTV-style videos played, highlighting the plight of children with hip speak and hip graphics. More important, the videos suggested, we can end that plight: "We can accomplish in six years, what could not be done in 100." Ricky Martin, as always, the most engaging showman on the bill, announced, "I'm happy because I feel like I'm part of a historic movement."
Maybe. But it's a strange movement, too. As Ricky explained:
<blockquote>We, the artists, have done our part. Now it's time for the governments to join us. Let's give a big hand of applause for the governments of Latin America, because I know they're watching, so that they will say, "Count me in."</blockquote>
So, forget about a violent revolution, where the poor overthrow the rich. And we're not really talking about voting out governments that don't respond to the people's demands. Instead, Ricky and Shakira, and a whole host of other stars, will cajole the powerful into doing right by kids. And the public will be there, by the hundreds of thousands, by the millions, to witness it all.
Live Aid. Live 8. For the past 20-odd years, pop stars with a conscience have been saving the world one mega-concert at a time. On May 17, in Buenos Aires and Mexico City, the most glittering stars of Latin pop will perform a benefit for ALAS -- which, in Spanish, stands for Latin American in Solidarity for Action, and also conveniently spells out the word for "wings."
Last week, I looked at a good, old fashioned critique of Yankee imperialism and a really fun song produced by Puerto Rico's Calle 13 and Argentina's Vicentico. This week, we see pop stars (including Calle 13) coming up with their own solutions for Latin America's problems.
Founded by artists and entrepreneurs, including Mexico's sometime richest man in the world Carlos Slim Felu, ALAS list of "activists" reads like a who's who of Latin pop, with Wyclef Jean and Michael Stipe thrown in. Here's the list of activist/stars who have signed up for the show so far: Alejandro Sanz, Aleks Syntek, Babasónicos, Calle 13, Chayanne, David Bisbal, Diego Torres, Fito Páez, Gustavo Cerati, Jorge Drexler, Juan Luis Guerra, Juanes, Los Tigres del Norte, Maná, Miguel Bosé, Paulina Rubio, Ricardo Montaner, Ricky Martin, Shakira, and Timbiriche.
Each concert will be held in a huge venue -- the 200,000-person Zocalo in Mexico City and the 120,000-person Costanera Sur in Buenos Aires. Now word yet on whether the show will be broadcast on television across the hemisphere or live-streamed at the ALAS site (right now there's only a few landing pages, with a promise of more to come). But 320,000 folks is a pretty good start.
As ALAS CEO Araceli Ruano points out in a press release, the purpose of the Alas concert is not to raise cash (both shows are free), but "rather to harness the power that comes from bringing thousands of music fans together to support the ALAS mission of strengthening and expanding public and private sector support for Early Childhood Development in Latin America.â€
Plans for the show were first announced not on MTV or any of the other Latin music shows across the hemisphere, but at the annual meeting of the Inter-American Development Bank last month in Miami. Megastars Ricky Martin, Juan Luis Guerra, Juanes, and Shakira showed up at the bankers' meeting to launch a related campaign to raise awareness among policymakers about social issues, the Yo Amo America (I Love America) Campaign.
Each of these stars is already pretty busy with their own foundations: Ricky's got the Ricky Martin Foundation, dedicated to ending the exploitation of children through human trafficking. The Juan Luis Guerra Foundation focuses on the needs of people in his native Dominican Republic.
Juanes' Mi Sangre (My Blood) Foundation promotes peace in Colombia and fights against the use of land mines, which frequently kill or mutilate children, while Shakira's Pies Descalzos (Bare Feet) Foundation raises money for the education, health care, and nutrition of children in Colombia.
For I Love America, each is taking on extra duties: Ricky's promoting universal birth registration so that the estimated 8.5 million Latin American kids without papers will have access to education and health care. Juanes is pitching universal preschool across Latin America. And Guerra is promoting microfinance across the Americas. Other stars will take on issues such as housing and safe drinking water.
Last week, Calle 13 and Vicentico's chorus "Dance -- or I'll Shoot" reminded me of the old guerrilla threat from the 60s: "Either everyone dances or nobody dances." Looks like, if the ALAS stars have their way, the answer will be: everybody dances!
It's three in the morning, and I'm at the keyboard again. What's driven me from my bed? Is it heartache that won't let me sleep? Or maybe remorse over the heart I've broken? Perhaps I'm yearning for my lost youth? Or I'm angry at the state of the world? Maybe I've just come home from another night on the town and I'm not ready to wind down? Or maybe I'm just drunk!
Luckily, whatever my mood, I can find exactly the right soundtrack at Radio by M(o/o)d on the Latin music radio service Batanga. This ingenious little tool is my new favorite online toy. I confess, I started out on the "Betrayed" (u_u) station (Let's not get into what brought me there: Bastard!). Let's just say I seethed through three tunes, before a hilarious computerized voice snarling "Betrayed!" got me feeling "Silly" (olo).
Since then I've had too much fun clicking on the different moods to stick with any song all the way through. Now I'm "Mellow" ('_'); now I'm "Inspired" (∧o∧); now I'm "Nostalgiac" (/0\).
M(o/o)d Radio doesn't deliver the latest tunes (although there's a new track here and there) -- after all, our mood's are so often about our memory, right? You might hear any genre of Latin music (although, as you might expect, there's a disproportionate amount of ranchero on the Borracho/Drunk mood: (@_@)) -- and a few English-language tracks too (I hit upon Radiohead's "Creep" on the Mellow channel and Lil Mama's "Lip Gloss" on Energetico (ô_ô)).
But mostly it's a hoot to hear what comes out next on whatever emoticon you click. Here's a sample of a few tracks I found. And now I really am going back to bed.
"Betrayed" (u_u)
Alejandro Fernandez, "Me Dediqué a Perderte"(I Dedicated Myself to Losing You) Bebe ("Malo"/Bad)
Alejandro Sanz's "Corazon Partio"Silly (olo)
Mellow ('_')
Wilfredo Vargas, "El Africano"
Celia Cruz, "Pa La Cola" Regalo del Alma
Cool (-_o)
Bacilos, "Mi Primer Millón" Caraluna
Alex Syntek, with Ana Torroja, "Duele el Amor"
Lil Mama, "Lip Gloss,"
Miguel Bosé, with Julieta Venegas, "Morena Mia"
Coldplay, "Yellow"
Inspirado (∧o∧)
Luny Tunes, "Noche de Entierro (Nuestro Amor Se Acabe)," Los Benjamins Reggaeton
Toby Love, "Tengo Un Amor," Toby Love R&B/Bachata
Réyli, "Fe," Fe
Energetico (ô_ô)
Moderatto, "Chavo de Onda," Detector de Metal
Dance -- or I'll shoot. Pretty direct, right? Except when reggaeton brainiacs Calle 13 team up with singer Vicentico (former frontman for the Argentine alt party band Fabulosos Cadillacs -- which, according to the band's website, is plotting a comeback with a new album and tour slated for next year), the "dance -- or I'll shoot" chorus is not a command for fans to get down. Instead, it's a jab at good ol' US imperialism -- especially as represented by American pop culture and fast food. Get it? Dance to our iTunes, or you're dead.
Thanks to us hanging Saddam Hussein
Funny thing is, the song "El Combo Imbècil con Papitos y Refresco" (The Idiot Combo with Fries and a Drink) came about as part of a reality TV show called Fusion A2 (dear reader, I'm sorry I can't send you directly to the video on this flash site, but click around and you'll find it) produced by Sony Entertainment and sponsored by -- get ready -- Coca-cola. Here's a sample lyric (my translation):
There's going to be more McDonald's and more Burger Kings in the world
You're going to hear a lot more Britney Spears
The girl who fucks the most
You'll be able to eat onion rings and fries
and smack down a Viet Namese for no reason.
Ouch! According to insiders, the show's producers were a little nervous when they got wind of the song, but corporate overlords Sony and Coke finally went with the wise adage that no news is no news: why censor the song and make a story out of it. It's only being broadcast in Latin America anyway. So there's no need to worry about, say, Lou Dobbs picking it up. Plus, it's a pretty catchy tune.
The first thing I thought about when I heard the song was the 1960s slogan of a guerrilla group from Uruguay called the Tupamaros: Everybody dances, or nobody dances. In other words, the rich share with the poor, or everybody gets blown up. Turns out the Tupamaros mostly got blown up, or shot, or tortured by the Uruguayan military, along with a lot of other folks, with some help from the CIA.
Anyway, US imperialism is an old story. What's new is that a couple of US citizens from Puerto Rico (Calle 13) can get together with an Argentine rocker (Vicentico) in a TV studio in Mexico to record a show produced by a Japanese multinational and sponsored by a US multinational and broadcast their rant to 18 Latin American countries.
And that makes the lyrics sound a little old fashioned. Like Britney Spears, the US seems to be losing its grip. Which doesn't make a Big Mac any less toxic -- just not so powerful anymore.
Want some fries with that?
The sun is setting over Biscayne Bay and Antonio Carmona is sitting in the growing dusk on the patio of The Standard hotel and spa in Miami Beach. His sharp gypsy features are striking, even as his long, dark hair disappears into the dark.
Carmona's voice stands out too, on his solo album released last fall, Vengo Venenoso (I Come Like Poison). After playing more than 20 years with his brother and his cousin in Ketama, a flamenco fusion band that changed the sound of Spanish pop for a generation, he is making his mark alone.
He's out to conquer America as well, with a tour that started at SOBs last month and lands in Miami tonight during the Rhythm Foundation's Heineken Transatlantic Festival. To that end, his record label set him up with super producer Gustavo Santaolalla (winner of Oscars for the soundtracks of Brokeback Mountain and Babel) and paired him with two of the biggest-selling artists in the US Latin market: Juanes and Alejandro Sanz. He also enlists a few lesser known friends, such as sinuous Spanish rapper Mala Rodriguez and an Iraqi street musician he met in a plaza in Madrid, playing a three-stringed Iraqi violin (featured on the mournful "Miedo" (Fear) that closes the disc). Much of the disc was recorded in Los Angeles, although the 41-year-old veteran says he shortened his stay there by wrapping up the production well-ahead of schedule. The rest he recorded in his basement studio and in another Madrid studio close to Mala's house, who had recently given birth and didn't want to stray far from home.
The trans-Atlantic result is stunning. Carmona delivers as expected on the flamenco-inspired numbers. The big surprise comes on the straight-ahead pop numbers, where his voice delivers deep emotion as powerfully as the best Latin American troubadours. Argentine-born Santaolalla's production carves out plenty of space around every element -- Carmona's vocals, a minimal guitar riff, a brief flirtation with classical Spanish guitar -- to reveal each as a stunning object in itself.
Now that Carmona's music has arrived in the United States, let's hope he stays awhile.