El Colectivo

The interesting part of this experience we call Medellin is that I’m essentially starting from zero. I’ve had to relearn the simple and ordinary aspects of life. Today’s seemingly mundane experience brings to life El Colectivo and the salsa clasica stories that reflect the daily life of the audience they’re meant to capture. Bear with me as I walk you through my story:

El Colectivo Amaraillo by Toño Reyes

Over the past few weeks, I’ve been on a mission to find a salsa dance company. I’ve started my search by looking through el directorio as very few dance academies have up and running websites. So if you can imagine me having trouble figuring out the Colombian yellow pages, which has a very different system from the states, you can bet your bottom peso that I often find myself lost locating places, especially in Laureles and El Poblado where my search takes me today. The street system is not as bad as Queens, NY but what seems like a relatively simple grid easily turns into a complex web of tranversales, diagonales, circulares, glorietas, calles, and carreras with streets numbered 33a and 33aa. The street I was on in El Poblado went all the way up to F. Throw in a Sur here and there and you’re bound to get confused.

The first address I had to figure out was Carrera 81 #33aa-08, which is the equivalent of 81st Avenue with 33aa Street. Now either I was given the wrong address or I copied it down incorrectly as it doesn’t exist. The phantom address was confirmed by the annoying hour I walked around asking security guards and bodega attendants for some assistance. Double that aggravation with the hour I spent later in the day looking for and not finding the address in El Poblado.

Equally frustrating was getting to these places. I had mentioned to a friend that Medellin’s public transportation system is top notch. What I had referred to was the Metro. Cabs are not that bad. They’re relatively inexpensive compared to US rates, especially if you live in Dallas, but if you’re on a limited budget like yours truly, cab rides can get expensive real quick. Since I’m a broke non-employed salsero (unemployed would assume I’m actively searching for a job), I was forced on a public transportation adventure.

The Metro is relatively new as it was inaugurated in 1995. Since it’s illegal to eat or drink on the Metro, it’s always super clean. Combine all that with how relatively frequently it runs and you have my preferred form of travel. The only problem is that the Metro is limited in its reach. Medellin sits in El Valle de Aburrá surrounded by the Andes Mountains. The Metro only runs north and south of the valley with a second line that travels from the center of the city towards the west. There are two additional Metro Cable lines (an aerial tramway) that travel up the side of the mountains.

So if the address you’re looking for doesn’t fall within walking distance of a Metro Station, you’re forced to use the bus system, which unlike the states is privately owned. The bus system seems to be composed of large colorful left over machinery from the 50’s and 60’s, which I’m convinced is the major source of pollution in Medellin. I often feel like I stepped in a time machine when I ride a Medellin bus. Along with these ancient relics are the smaller colectivos, which are nothing short of a small airport shuttle.

It’s not just the emissions these buses emit, it’s the roller coaster ride they put you through that make you feel like you’re in a time capsule. The seats even remind me of the old coasters at Rocky Point Park in Rhode Island. Since bus drivers seem to be on a tight schedule (every so often they stop to get a time card stamped), they barely wait for you to step one foot on the bus before they zoom off to the next destination. The chorus of Los Demonios del Salado’s version, “El colectivo de las siete, el colectivo se va”, explains the hop on, hop off acrobatics you have to pull off as the driver barely affords you a millisecond at either end of your journey.

Once inside the bus, if you’re lucky to get a seat, you better hold on tight because you’re bound to feel like you’re on a trampoline. Since drivers here rarely give a rats ass about speed limits or traffic lights, the Medellin streets are littered with speed bumps, often a few yards separate the next one. It’s as if the urban planners are sitting back with a grin of “ha, ha… gotcha!” If your poor chap status has left you standing, you’re in for quite a ride as drivers stop on a dime after going what feels like 200 miles an hour. There are two bars on either side of the bus and one running down the middle for you to swing on like a zoo monkey as drivers refuse to slow down on curves.

Although most Paisas are cordial and take pride in their impeccable manners (you have to say good day before uttering any phrase to a stranger), those table manners Mamá taught us don’t hold water when a seat frees up. Paisas are no better on the Metro. On my way back from El Poblado, an old lady was nearly trampled for acting too slow to move out of the way of outgoing passengers and a young lady was left taking the next stop after incoming commuters bull-rushed the closing doors, leaving her boyfriend standing on the platform dumbfounded by what had just occurred. It’s Darwin’s survival of the fittest at its worst. Pure chaos ensues on these buses, especially during rush hour.

That chaos is what the composer of El Colectivo had in mind when he decided to describe today’s bus journey to perfection. Listen to minute 0:10 to 0:20 of El Colectivo de las Siete:

Para atrás que hay asiento
Oiga no empuje, no empuje
El asiento es para tres
Y cuidado con el bolsillo

El Colectivo de las Siete by Los Demonios del Salado

Both versions don’t use a singer to belt out some fine tunes. Instead, they opt for a passenger ranting throughout the song. On minute 0:43 the frustrated commuter continues with: “Cuidado con la roja… metale el chuzo… aguanta que allí viene la moto y nos pueden recetar” followed by a police siren that tails off into a timbales solo, which I’m certain is included to emphasize the mayhem we’ve experienced the last 0:50 seconds of our bus ride. Although these bus rides can very well lead to ulcers, I appreciate the journey as its part of what makes my Medellin experiment so diverse from my previous assignment.

These descargas certainly give you a taste of what it’s like to live through a bus ride in Medellin, especially the whirlwind the sax takes you on minute 1:35 to 2:12 of El Colectivo Amarillo. They display how salsa clasica composers weren’t limited by heartbreak or bling bling to sell records. An experience as routine as finding Carrera 81 #33aa-08 can inspire a kick ass song. It’s paying attention to the details of my Medellin life that brought me to appreciate this song. Salsa classica is filled with story telling that you can quickly throw on your headphones and crack a smile at the song’s willingness to hop on a frustrating bus ride with you to an address you’ll never find.


Peace
DJ Walt

La Conquistadora Album Review

La Conquistadora by Marty Galagarzar y La Conquistadora is one of my favorite albums. Not just because Roy Carmona kills it on lead vocals but because it’s one of the first albums where the music made such an impression on me that it propelled me towards a life of searching for that next dope song. My itch for collecting started in 2001 on my first trip to Medellin but by the time I discovered La Conquistadora in 2003, I had a better understanding of the music and more importantly, I had money to spend (didn’t purchase many albums from 2001 to 2003 as I was a broke college student).

So in comes La Conquistadora and wow was I blown away! Back in those days when in NYC, we would always make a pit stop at Casa Latina Music Shop, which is the greatest candy store ever for salsa collectors. If you find yourself in NYC, check them out on 151 East 116th Street in Manhattan (212-427-6062). When visiting Casa Latina, I would always leave with at least 10 cds. Typically, I would call DJ Sonerito (Andres Giraldo from Salsa y Control Dance Co.) for any recommendations as soon as I stepped in the door. By that time, he and his brother Johnny had been collecting for quite some time and in my eyes were the authority on salsa clasica (not to mention the source of my envy for the countless amount of cds mounted on their wall and now for all the LPs they’ve recently purchased). It was on one of those trips that Andres suggested La Conquistadora. This passion for collecting and Andres unknowingly becoming my collecting mentor is part of what brought our friendship together.

I think the only other album I can remember purchasing that day was Revolucion en NY by Orquesta Revolucion 70 because I must have played La Conquistadora non-stop the entire four hour ride from NYC to Providence.  This album cemented the idea of wanting to collect every album produced during the ‘60s and ‘70s and was the final touch on my addiction to salsa clasica. A few years later I introduced La Conquistadora to DJ Travieso (Travis DeTour) from Boston. It was one of those “yo check this out” moments we would always have on our way to or from dance practice. I later put DJ Zeus (Jesus Obregon) from Baltimore on to this gem, who had almost the exact same reaction as DJ Travieso and I did upon hearing this album for the first time. Both of them quickly surpassed me as collecting addicts, in part due to the affect this album produced. Because of all the great memories this album brings, it holds a special place in my collection.

1.  Yo Quisiera                    


2.  Mami Me Gusto      


3.  No Pienses Asis              


4.  Corazon                         


5.  Candela                         


6.  Para Todos Mis Amigos


7.  Amar y Vivir                   


8.  Pobre Jose                     


9.  Teruño                           


Review

This album has amazing dance tracks.  Yo Quisiera, Candela, and Corazon are well worth the purchase for those salseros only looking for some good tracks to dance to and not looking to go crazy collecting. As a dancer, what moves me about this album is the hard hitting trombones, Roy Carmona’s cool unique nasal voice, the use of the symbols, and of course the bongo solos. Marty Galagazar played the bongos so you’ll find some nice bongo treats throughout the album.

La Conquistadora starts off strong with a powerful salsa tune, Yo Quisiera. Here’s a video of Andres Giraldo at the 2008 Dallas Salsa Congress playing with the music on this track. Check out min 2:28 to 2:31, 2:35 to 2:38, and 4:16 to 4:20 of the video. It's hard to do that with some of the newer salsa which has a flatter sound (very little breaks and changes to the music) and barely any percussion to play with. There’s no doubt after watching this video that this song was meant to rock a dancer floor.



Although Candela starts off a little slow, don’t be fooled. It’s a smoking dance track. I played Candela at an event in Baltimore where dancers weren’t familiar with salsa clasica and didn’t get a great reaction. I learned my lesson to only play this track at salsa events where seasoned salseros won’t be scared off by the slow start. Check out the trombone solo guided by the symbols on minute 3:30 to 4:08. It gives me chills every time I listen to it. That will definitely inspire some creativity on the dance floor.

Corazon is my favorite track on this album. It also starts off slow but if you’re patient enough, Corazon will repay you on the dance floor. DJ Turco played this track once at Mambos in Boston and had the entire dance floor packed. Check out the pay off Andres Giraldo got from Corazon on minute 3:15 to 3:35 of this old video at the original Boston Havana Club (around 2004) back when it was at the BCCA. He returns the favor with some creative footwork to this trombone and break section:




The only other salsa track, Teruño, finishes off the album, which is a nice chill song to listen to but not great for the dance floor. I'm not a huge fan of Teruño but only because it just doesn't compare to the three other salsas metioned above.

La Conquistadora also has equally nice tracks to just sit back and lounge to. These songs are good but may take some getting use too if your ear is not accustomed to listen to this type of music, especially the boleros. Salsa clasica has taught me many lessons. One is to appreciate boleros and another is that some boleros just flat out suck. So as you can imagine, La Conquistador has one bolero that got put on my favorites list and another that I barely touch. No Pienses Asi is the only song on this album that I don’t like. Amar y Vivir on the other hand I’ve enjoyed on many occasions. Like most boleros, this one starts off slow but kicks it up a slight notch at minute 1:50 and finishes off with a smooth trombone solo starting at minute 3:05.

Even though Oscar Hernandez’s piano solo from minute 2:20 to 3:20 is the highlight of Para Todos Mis Amigos, I really enjoy listening to the lyrics of this guajira, which ponders who will be by your side in your final days. I keep telling some of my friends that they need to learn Spanish just so they can enjoy songs like this one. Mami Me Gusto and Pobre Jose are the two son montunos of the ablum.  Mami Me Gusto has a really catchy chorus and a rythm guided by campanas and bongos that always get me doing some funky shoulder move.  Check out minute 2:13 to 2:35.  You'll know what I'm talking about. This song also has cool lyrics.  My wife always gets a kick out this cat calling tune: "Tu tienes muchas cosas que vacilan, porque tu andas con mucha dulzura mama." Once again, Oscar does his thing on Pobre Jose with a silky performance on minute 2:18 to 2:58, which is followed by some bongo action that closed the deal for me on this song.

Info on the Band

La Conquistadora was originally released on vinyl in 1972 on Vaya Records with Fania re-issuing the album on cd in 1999. Marty Galagarza formed La Conquistadora along with the trombone player, Carlos Berrios, who left the band to record with Tempo 70. Marty went on to release two more albums with La Conquistadora: Pinocho in 1974 and Conciencia in 1980. Prior to forming La Conquistadora, he co-lead La Conspiracion with Ernesto Agosto. Marty only appeared on one album with La Conspiracion (self titled) released in 1971 also on Vaya. Lucky for us that they had a fallen out as we were blessed with two kick ass bands.

This album was produced by Larry Harlow. For those that are just beginning their collection, you should look for albums produced by Harlow. He produced a bunch of awesome bands like Rafi Val y La Diferente, Orquesta Dicupe, and Chino Rodriguez y La Consagracion during the early '70s. In my opinion, the bands he was producing in the early ‘70s came out with better music than he was creating for his own band. Oscar Hernandez (leader of Spanish Harlem Orchestra) played the piano as a teenager on this album. It’s hard to believe that a 17 year old could have such mastery of those teclas. With his work on this album, you could tell Oscar was in for a long accomplished career. 

Roy Carmona also sang on Pinocho but was later replaced by Cheo Colon and Israel Perez on Conciencia. I don’t know of any other bands that Carmona sang with except for his work on 100% Bailable by Chino y Su Conjunto Melao. Although he’s not mentioned as a singer on the album’s credits, there’s no denying he sang the tracks Jazmin and Bongo off that album. The back cover of the album has Roy Amante as one of three singers. Perhaps, Carmona had a name change. He’s one of those soneros with a unique voice that is easy to recognize. I’ll have to someday write a review of Bongo as the lyrics are beautifully written to describe the life of a musician and Carmona sings this salsa tune to perfection.

Hope you enjoy this album as much as I have!

Peace
DJ Walt

Vengo del Monte

We took a family day trip to Rio Negro over the weekend, a little over an hour outside the city and into the mountains. Although I was born in Medellin, I was raised in the U.S. and now find myself a foreigner in my homeland. In Colombia, I’m viewed as an American and rightfully so. Since I grew up in Rhode Island and New Jersey, nothing reminds me more of my foreigner status than the mountains that surround Medellin. As hard as they are to avoid, I suspect most city Paisas barely notice them. My mother-in-law often forgets they’re even there. It’s like living in Jersey City and no longer being awed by the Manhattan skyline.  My new relationship with Medellin’s mountains and my mother-in-law’s indifference to their existence has led me to believe that it’s only when you leave their presence that you begin to appreciate their beauty and importance in shaping your identity. Who would my mother-in-law be without those mountains?

The immigration of Cubans and Puerto Ricans fueled the salsa boom of the late 60s and early 70s through the influx of amazingly talented musicians and the audience they tailored. As an immigrant, I believe it’s this connection with “where you’re from” and that yearning for familiarity that my mother-in-law lives that begins to shape you as a Latino in the U.S. You begin to think of yourself in terms of the pride for your homeland, your mountains. Just as the concrete jungle is a source of pride for New Yorkers, so too are the montañas for Paisas. This in part is why I moved back to Medellin.

Trumpeter Tommy Olivencia understood this when he released Vengo del Monte in 1976 on the album Introducing Lalo Rodriguez and Simon Perez. Even 34 years later, I believe he speaks to assure us that you are from the mountains and they will always be “within you” just as the New York skyline will always be part of a Brooklynite. It brings me a certain sense of comfort the thought that although I didn’t grow up with mountains, I brought them with me when my mother brought us to the states. They are part of what makes me.

Vengo del Monte by Tommy Olivencia

Lalo Rodriguez on vocals doesn’t fall short of having monte adentro on his interpretation of Olivencia’s Vengo del Monte. The killa trumpet and timables solos on this track are speaking to those Nuyoricans and hyphenated Americans who dared leave their homelands. They understand our experience.

Watch Emilio and Zagala’s group from Santiago, Chile perform Olivencia’s Vengo del Monte:

It’s an understatement to say that the beautiful landscape I witness daily inspires me as it has for many salsa clasica composers. Cuba and Puerto Rico have equally impressive scenery. It’s what Maria Burgos means when she sings of having “monte adentro” on Vengo del Monte off La Controversia’s album, Vision Divina. Although I don’t know specifically what La Controversia meant by "Vengo del Monte", aside from letting us know that they come from the mountains, I learned of an interesting Colombian campesino’s experience this weekend on my trip to Rio Negro.

While at the park, we were approached by La Loca del Pueblo. She had a particular accent while she told us jokes and promoted the play being held in an hour. Since my mother-in-law previously worked at that park, she told me the story of artists similar to La Loca. Due to lack of jobs in the country side, artists travel from remote rural areas in the mountains to town centers or cities to make a living performing for tourists and city slickers. When Maria Burgos sings Vengo del Monte, I thought of La Loca’s experience, specifically when she sings in the first 53 seconds of the song:

Vengo del Monte by La Controversia

Vengo del monte
Yo Vengo del monte
Y yo te quiero cantar
Porque lo que traigo es salsa y se que te va gustar
Porque lo que traigo es salsa y se que te va gustar

Con todo los ingredientes
Para todo los rumberos
Que le gusta guaguanco, son montuno, y el bolero
Que le gusta guaguanco, son montuno, y el bolero

As I thought of La Loca, I imagined La Controversia traveling from the country side to perform guaguancos, son montunos, and boleros on a routine basis. Each time, the trombonist plays that sweet solo from minute 1:08 to 1:45 as a testament to his campesino skills while the timbalero unleashes the mountain’s fury from minute 2:41 to 3:28. Similar to La Loca, all this was done in an effort to entertain us the audience.

Here’s another cool song inspired by mountains: Quemando Monte by Pluma y Su Salsa. I threw this one in the post as Pluma is Colombian. Perhaps the very same mountains that awed me this weekend moved him to take on this song. The vocalist in Quemando Monte tells the story of jibaro farmers burning an area in the mountains to plant their harvest but the burning happens to get out of control. As we traveled down the mountain back from our Rio Negro trip, we actually saw a plot of land on the side of a mountain burning. I wish I had my camera ready (stupid battery ran out). Luckily I had my mp3 player with Quemando Monte handy and could close my eyes to experience the singer’s story telling. I imagined a campesino sitting in the middle of a burning patch fueling the fire with his organ on minute 2:11 to 2:40.

Quemando Monte by Pluma y Su Salsa

What makes this music so universal and appealing to dancers and listeners alike, even those that don’t speak the language, are the musicians’ ability to convey their experiences through solos. Without you even knowing what the lyrics mean you can feel La Loca’s trip from el campo, Olivencia’s understanding of an immigrant’s need to assert his identity in an alien culture, and Pluma’s tales through the voice of a smooth trumpet or the energy of a timbalero. Combining the dancer’s own experiences with those transmitted by the musician is when you get a true connection on the dance floor. It’s all about the music’s relationship to our experience both in life and on the dance floor.

Peace
DJ Walt

The Answer is in the Mixes

Recently, my mother had asked me to explain my passion for music created years before I was born. Now I mentioned in the previous post that Ruben Blades, El Gran Combo, and Frankie Ruiz influenced my interest in salsa. However, I now collect from a specific era and rarely listen to those artists (aside from visiting my brother and being stuck listening to the same Frankie Ruiz cd all day). Generally, I’ll collect salsa albums released between ’68 and ’75 (I’ll explain this at some future time). I say albums because most artists had a formula that usually included a guajira and bolero. Through collecting I gained a great deal of appreciation for these forms of latin music, which I believe is what surprised my mother the most. I’m sure I gave her some generic answer about how the music makes me feel when I dance but the true answer came in the form of mixes. I made a bunch of mixes for her that we would talk about on our rides to and from the commuter rail. As I got a better feel for her musical taste, she slowly put aside her Fruko and Frankie Ruiz compilations and began exclusively giving airplay to DJ Walt Presents. Without knowing it, she found her answer when she proclaimed “Uy... esta cancion me facina! (Oh... I love this song!)”

My hope is that through my mixes I can help others discover this wonderful music we call Salsa Clasica! It’s the reason why most of my friends will usually receive random emails proclaiming the dopeness of a song. When you listen to some of these songs, you’ll understand, as my mother did, where my passion for this music comes from.

With that, I’ll leave you with a song my mother is sure to love! Con La Misma Moneda is off the Quieres Salsa? …Tomala! album by the Venezulen band, Orquesta Los Juniors.

This album is on the top of my list for its hard hitting, rough sound (stay tuned for review). As the name of the album suggests, the cow bells of this song have the “in your face” quality that got my mother hooked. For some reason, Colombians (at least my family) tend to love them some cow bells in your ear! I’m sure to put this song on Mom’s next mix.

Stay tuned for my next mix: Buscando Un Tema

Peace
DJ Walt

Welcome to Salsa Session

Ever since I was a kid, I can remember hearing salsa in the background in my home (usually while we did chores around the house). Ruben Blades, El Gran Combo, and Frankie Ruiz received the most airplay by my parents back in the mid 80's and even into the 90's (vallenatos took over in the mid-90s). Although my taste for salsa has changed since then, those days laid the foundation for my love of the music. As a kid, I would spend hours making mixed tapes of those songs for other friends and family. As an adult, I still spend a part of my day thinking about salsa, coming up with the next idea for a mix to share with friends. It’s this passion for sharing that brought me to start this blog. I will periodically post and discuss from a dancer’s perspective salsa mixes and songs. My hope is that other DJs and dancers will become contributors to the blog and do the same. Ultimately, the goal of the blog is to keep this wonderful music alive and to share our experience as artists, collectors, dancers, and DJs.

When I first envisioned this blog, I had the idea of contributors sharing their experience as dancers and the process they lived through. My process definitely began back in the days glued to the tape deck but I’m sure that for some of you, it wasn’t the same, especially for those who only learned about the music as adults. Now I’d like to take it a step further because this dance would not be possible without the music.

I collect because I have a passion for the music; dance because the music moves me; and DJ because I want to share that passion. It’s with these three areas of the music in mind that I hope will evolve the blog’s discussion. Since I recently moved to Medellin, Colombia, I will post some entries on my experience discovering the Medellin salsa scene as well as my own process as a dancer. From speaking to other friends, I learned that the "dancer's process" is different for everyone but some of us also share similar breakthroughs and frustrations. All posts will include a song or mix that I hope will help further convey what lead me or a contributor to post.

If you would like to become a contributor and discuss your experience as a dancer, collector, DJ, or artist, please email me at salsasession.blogspot@gmail.com

Peace

DJ Walt