One of the very first groups to record son in Habana in the 1920s, Sexteto Boloña didn’t have the long career of sextetos Nacional and Habanero (who by the 1930s added trumpets and became septetos), but bandleader and tresero Alfredo Boloña (the tiny guy on the far right) managed to round up some of the heavy hitters of the local scene to fly [...]]]> A La Cuata Co y Co, Echale Candela, 1926

One of the very first groups to record son in Habana in the 1920s, Sexteto Boloña didn’t have the long career of sextetos Nacional and Habanero (who by the 1930s added trumpets and became septetos), but bandleader and tresero Alfredo Boloña (the tiny guy on the far right) managed to round up some of the heavy hitters of the local scene to fly up to New York and cut a record for the short-lived Brunswick label.

The newly formed sextet, featuring hotshot tenor “El Gran Caruso” Abelardo Barroso (he’s got that funky, high-pitched nasal voice on the recording) and the mysterious and talented bongocero known only as “El Chino,” recorded a total of 16 tracks over two days in the fall of 1926. Although the Havana sound of this period had already been considerably “citified” in many ways when compared to the more “black” sounds of Oriente (read: syncopated, African-influenced, favoring rhythmic rather than harmonic complexity), Sexteto Bolo&ña retains much of the old funkiness. The repertoire is still too “savage” for European audiences to really get into - remember that in 1926 we’re still a few years out from Nacional’s big hit “Suavecito,” whose smooth groove won over audiences in Spain and soon after the rest of Europe.

This track, “A La Cuata Co y Co,” shows clearly the Yoruba roots of some of the musicians involved. Not only are the lyrics in bozal - a mix of Spanish and Yoruba - but the lyrics refer directly to regla de ocha (otherwise known as santería, an Afro-Cuban religion of Yoruba origin that is still practiced in Cuba and elsewhere):

“Yo tengo que hacé un ebbo…con coco, maíz y jutía, y un gallo pa’ Yemaya”

[”I’ve got to perform an ‘ebbo’ (a ritual sacrifice performed to appease the orishas, or deities) with coconut, corn, and jutía (a kind of rodent), and a rooster for Yemaya (one of the primary orishas)”]

My favorite part, though, is the coda, which changes abruptly to 6/8, a direct musical reference to Afro-Cuban religious ceremonies. It’s clear that for Bolo&ña and his band mates, Havana son, for all it’s smoothed out European-style harmonies and matching outfits and recording sessions in Nueva York, is not so far removed from the toques de santo held in secret at the homes of ocha devotées…

The year was 1974. Political turmoil, free-thinking, Eastern philosophy, and hallucinogens had virtually destroyed the boundaries between jazz and rock, latin- or otherwise. United by their devotion to Guru Chinmoy (who they would later discover was only exploiting their celebrity status to build his own following), Carlos Santana and Alice Coltrane found common musical ground on this far-out collaboration entitled Illuminations, much to [...]]]> Angel of Sunlight, Illuminations, 1974

The year was 1974. Political turmoil, free-thinking, Eastern philosophy, and hallucinogens had virtually destroyed the boundaries between jazz and rock, latin- or otherwise. United by their devotion to Guru Chinmoy (who they would later discover was only exploiting their celebrity status to build his own following), Carlos Santana and Alice Coltrane found common musical ground on this far-out collaboration entitled Illuminations, much to the dismay of Columbia Records (this was the first of Santana’s nine albums to not go gold, after all).

The result, despite the kitchy post-Beatles insertion of tabla and tamboura (”yeah, man, dig it”), does have some pretty nice moments. Remember that Santana, despite his plunge into Eastern-thought and then subsequent re-surfacing as a pop icon, is actually where he is today because he’s a great guitar player. Here he stays true to his own sound, not trying to cop licks from McGlaughlin or Coltrane (John, I mean) or anything like that. It just so happens that in this context, the free-flowing, rollicking boil-over, his soaring guitar lines fit in just right.

Alice holds her own as well - check out her solo on the Wurlitzer near the last 5 minutes or so. And of course the rhythm section was making it easy to sound good. Rule of thumb for jazz-rock crossover projects: steal Miles Davis’ band. I mean, with the way Dave Holland and Jack DeJohnette were playing together in those days, Santana could have played the ukulele and he would have sounded like a bad m.f.

All in all I have to say I’m pleasantly surprised by this track. If you’ve got the record, pull it out and skip to the B-side. Otherwise, buy the CD. Wanna find out more about it? Here’s the complete personnel, over on Alice Coltrane’s discography.

There’s really no place like Paris, especially in the spring, when people head out to the streets en masse and fill the bars and cafes with bubbling laughter and “Oh la las” and “Oui, oui, ouis” and “Oh, putains!” Not to mention progressively scantilier-clad women to found throughout the city, most of whom are trés foxy (It is true, by the way, [...]]]> I Love Paris, Screamin’ Jay Hawkins, Cow Fingers and Mosquito Pie

There’s really no place like Paris, especially in the spring, when people head out to the streets en masse and fill the bars and cafes with bubbling laughter and “Oh la las” and “Oui, oui, ouis” and “Oh, putains!” Not to mention progressively scantilier-clad women to found throughout the city, most of whom are trés foxy (It is true, by the way, that women in Paris are better looking than women in New York. I’ve done a serious comparative study).

And in my opinion, no one expresses this sentiment more accurately than the late great Screamin’ Jay Hawkins. He taps right into the sensuality of the place, especially when it “sizzles” in summer. You know Screamin’ Jay isn’t talking about the Louvre or the Eiffel Tower. He’s talking about that little strip club next to the used guitar shop on Rue Victor Massé, or the funky African markets in the nearby Goutte d’Or. He’s tapping into what I like to call the “seamy underbelly” of the place, where all the grime and sweat collects and never quite gets washed out.

And did I mention the chorale introduction? The juxtaposition of these barber-shop-style white guys (I picture them in plaid bow-ties with Brill Creem-ed hairdos) and Screamin’ Jay’s gritty, grunty baritone gives me chills every time. Sure, write him off as a novelty act, slinging one-liners from the pre-PC era (”I saw Mau-mau kissing Santa Claus!”), but Screamin’ Jay always managed pull it off the guts of Leadbelly and the class of Duke Ellington. And boy did he love Paris.

My old friend Todd Young and his wife Jen were in town to visit last week. Todd also happens to be an excellent songwriter and performer, so I thought in honor of his visit I’d pull out a track from his album, “Here Comes the Music,” recorded way back in 1998. The whole album is great, really, but “Goodbye Argentina” has always had a [...]]]> Goodbye Argentina, Todd Young and His Rock Band, Here Comes the Music, 1998

My old friend Todd Young and his wife Jen were in town to visit last week. Todd also happens to be an excellent songwriter and performer, so I thought in honor of his visit I’d pull out a track from his album, “Here Comes the Music,” recorded way back in 1998. The whole album is great, really, but “Goodbye Argentina” has always had a special place in my heart.

Todd actually claims to have written this song in his sleep. He says he had a dream about it, and he woke up and ran to write down the song and figure out the chords. So you’re thinking “Yeah, whatever,” but the thing about Todd is that he’s the kind of guy who can say something like that and you really believe him, not because he’s “spiritual” or anything, but just because he’s so honest and sincere that he couldn’t possibly make it up.

That’s what I like about the song, as a matter of fact. It has all that honesty and sincerity stitched right into the lining. The lyrics are not always easy to understand - what is the song about, really? Who or what is Argentina? The country Argentina? - yet somehow everything seems to logically fit together, and live in harmony in its own little song-world. That’s the way it should be.

By the way, Todd is still pretty active on the Philly scene. The Rock Band has a website with more tracks from “Here Comes the Music,” as well as newer stuff, and Todd also collaborates regularly with the mythical EDO and has sold his soul to The Satans.

Now here’s a track that I know you’ve never heard. It’s a band called The Way Blue Bucket, and they are a too-hip, off-the-wall, free-form noise/rock/jazz band from Philadelphia’s underground free-form noise/rock/jazz scene. Way underground, that is. In fact, the only reason I’ve even got the CD is that I am IN the band. Yes, my name is Dave [...]]]> Green Bean, by The Way Blue Bucket, from eponymously titled album

Now here’s a track that I know you’ve never heard. It’s a band called The Way Blue Bucket, and they are a too-hip, off-the-wall, free-form noise/rock/jazz band from Philadelphia’s underground free-form noise/rock/jazz scene. Way underground, that is. In fact, the only reason I’ve even got the CD is that I am IN the band. Yes, my name is Dave Garlitz and I am the lead guitar player and primary director/composer of The Way Blue Bucket.

The band hasn’t been too active since 2003 - it could be argued that we “broke up,” but we prefer to think of it as a hiatus. I mean, the love for the music is still there, and I’m still in touch with the other band members (Aino Soderhielm, who now plays with Calvin Weston, and Rob Smith, who now plays with - hmm, what was their name? I forget…). In theory, if any gigs came up, we would be there in a second. By the way, if you want to contact the band, you can find the official website, or just send me an email.

But in the meantime, I do like to go back to our recorded work from time to time. Preparing for this album we were rehearsing a minimum of twice a week, which now seems unbelievable. This track here, Green Bean, will always be one of our favorites. It’s funky, the groove stays locked in, but we still managed to “take it out” in a really satisfying way. Let me know what you think of it (you can leave a comment by clicking on the “Comments” link below this post.

In Vedado, a neighborhood in Havana, Cuba, there’s a Casa de la Cultura that hosts music lessons, concerts, plays, and other cultural activities. Local bands often rehearse there, as well.

That’s where I met the members of Innova, a son band like no other. Consisting of mostly middle-aged amateur musicians, Innova is not a band on the level of, say, Descarga, Innova, recorded by the author on July 3rd, 2004

In Vedado, a neighborhood in Havana, Cuba, there’s a Casa de la Cultura that hosts music lessons, concerts, plays, and other cultural activities. Local bands often rehearse there, as well.

That’s where I met the members of Innova, a son band like no other. Consisting of mostly middle-aged amateur musicians, Innova is not a band on the level of, say, Moneda Nacional or Cañambú. Their groove is occasionally wobbly, and the singers are not so hot.

But the amazing thing about Innova is that almost all of their instruments are built by their bandleader, mad-genius instrument inventor Armando Hernández, pictured here playing his first invention, the neck-tie bass. No kidding: when he’s done playing it, he hangs it vertically and it locks in place like a big heavy necktie with strings attached.

The rest of the instruments are equally zany. For one thing, he’s obsessed with piano keys (teclas in Spanish), and so he proudly showed me his guitarra a teclas, bajo a teclas, and even bongó a teclas (basically a bongó trapped in a wooden box, struck by two sticks controlled by oversized piano keys). The band also features a giant pair of scissors and an umbrella, both which have been souped up in various ways (literally with bells and whistles!) to serve as auxiliary percussion instruments. The trumpet player has become the real expert here, and he’s the one playing the strange percussion solo on this track here.

I’ve since lost touch with Alejandro, so if anyone has any news about this group, please let me know. They actually toured France and Canada, back in 2003, and the booking agency that set up the Canadian tour has a brief bio page about them. Nothing left to do but just enjoy this strange little piece of music, I guess.

Step On My Shoes A, Black Cherry Acid Lab

For those who were left holding their breath after the first part of this series (on Marc Ribot), here’s part two: Dave “the Fuze” Fiuczynski. When I first heard “the Fuze,” he was the maniacal lead guitar [...]]]> Little Wing, Screaming Headless Torsos 1995

Step On My Shoes A, Black Cherry Acid Lab

For those who were left holding their breath after the first part of this series (on Marc Ribot), here’s part two: Dave “the Fuze” Fiuczynski. When I first heard “the Fuze,” he was the maniacal lead guitar player in the now legendary 90’s rock-rap-jazz-fusion group Screaming Headless Torsos.

They’ve recently reissued the Torso’s album entitled 1995, with a few tasty little extras, including a satisfying-ly darkened and dragged-through-the-mud treatment of Jimi’s “Little Wing” (included here for your listening pleasure). Fiuczynski’s intro is just so him, it’s not even funny. And the solo later on is appropriately angular, furious, and face-melting; “the Fuze” in fine form.

So where is he now? Actually, the Torsos are apparently active again (or were in 2005?), according to their website. Fiuczynski’s got some other fun side projects (not so recent, but fun to discover nonetheless) my favorite of which spawned the album Black Cherry Acid Lab, which is great for the name alone, but also seems to be a great life-beyond-grave-beyond-the-walking-dead version of where the Torsos may have gone if they hadn’t flown too close to the sun back in the late 90s. Here for a little taste is “Step on My Shoes A.”

Stay tuned for more guitar mayhem. Up next: the king of the 55 Bar, and an old buddy of mine from back in the day, who is at this very moment holed-up under the Williamsburg bridge, concocting new and exciting excursions into the realm of avant-guitar post-rock exploration…