¡Con Salsa!

 When I arrived in Bridgewater in 1997, I worked late into the night quite often. I had a new job with mostly new classes to prepare, I was a new father with a tiny baby to help care for, and my doctoral dissertation committee at the University of Arizona thought it would be fun to make me re-write an entire book they had initially approved.

My companion on those late nights was sometimes National Public Radio, especially on Saturday night when the local (but globally important) affiliate WBUR played Latin American music ALL NIGHT. 

Specifically, the program Con Salsa aired from midnight to 5 a.m. In those days, listeners could call in to request or dedicate songs, and I remember that more than a few of those requests were from my new home town of Bridgewater.

The show continues to be on the air, as it has been for almost 49 years, though now it runs 10pm Saturday to 3am Sunday. It is still five full hours, curated by José Massó III, a true scholar of the music of Latin America, particularly that of the Caribbean. He describes the show as five chapters of music and commentary, often tied together by a particular theme or by homage being paid to a particular artist. 

One thing I love is that the show begins almost without notice -- whatever is happening at 9:59 ends and then this song plays for seven minutes before Massó says anything at all. 

This is very unusual for public radio, which usually has a lot of chatter at the top of the hour. I have gotten used to this soft opening over the years, and only learned the back story when Massó explained it during the episode of October 5-6, 2024. 

Listen to the story of Con Salsa during a during his appearance on The Common.

The title of the song is simply "Puerto Rico" but the inspiration for the song was a particularly poignant moment in the history of the island. That moment was at the very end of 1972, when the musician Eddie Palmieri was among many Puerto Ricans who were desperately combing the beaches of the island, in search of some sign of life from the Pittsburg Pirates baseball star Roberto Clemente. 

It turns out that he perished in a plane that he had chartered for a humanitarian mission to Nicaragua. It was the fourth plane he had chartered to deliver aid following the 1972 earthquake in Managua, and he boarded it personally because he had heard that the Somoza dictatorship had stolen aid from the first three. 

My 2006 photo of the delapidated cathedral in Managua which serves as an
 informalmemorial of the earthquake because its clock still shows the
moment of the event: 12:29:44 a.m. December 23, 1972

Sergio, Play Yo Piano

Credit to Will.I.Am. for the title of this post. Read on ... 

In the summer of 2006, I was walking through music/book store with my mother when I noticed a whole rack of CDs (this was 2006, after all) entitled Timeless, by a band I had not heard of: Black Eyed Peas. 

I stopped in my tracks and then tried to explain to my mother why this was so exciting. The face on the CD was that of a young Sergio Mendes. Sergio Mendes! 

As I later wrote in a 2013 post on my main blog, this is an artist who perhaps more than any other brought samba to audiences in the United States. He visited New York shortly before I was born, and shortly afterward exiled himself there, eventually moving to Los Angeles, where he died on September 5, 2024.

Back to that 2006 recording. The TimelessI project is one of many of his collaborations, in this case giving Black Eyed Peas a major role in many of the songs that he had made famous decades before. Among the most popular of these is "Mas Que Nada" and it is in this track that rapper Will.I.Am. encourages his friend's instrumental solo with those words. 

So popular had he become in the United States -- and particularly in New York City -- that a 1993 Seinfeld episode has the character Kramer indignantly ranting about his importance, and erroneously assuming he was well-known in Brazil.  

Notable tracks and stories I'll be sharing in class:

Fanfarra Cabua Le Le (1992)

Mas Que Nada 2006

Mas Que Nada 1966 video (see Wikipedia for much more about this song)

Sergio Mendes obituary on NPR (audio)

Sergio Mendes highlights on NPR (including obituary text)

Sergio Mendes, 83, Dies; Brought Brazilian Rhythms to the Pop Charts (NY Times)

Sergio Mendes - Magalenha (Video Original)

Mendes had a cameo in an otherwise very unremarkable movie Be Cool

Nostalgia Blinders

I noticed this statement recently on the page of a relatively recent BSU student who is involved in music.

It brought to mind a sentiment I see far too often in posts by people my own age (those who are Baby Boomers or close to it). That is the notion that no good music is made any more. Citing great musicians of their (our) own era, they will claim that nothing being performed today is as good. Or in fact, any good. 

Today more music is available than ever before, since the music of previous generations is still mostly available in some form, and new music is added daily. Entire new kinds of music are added as well, as are collaborations between generations.

There is no need for cynicism, but it helps to understand how it arises. Music is associated with many of our memories -- especially with good memories of time spent with friends and lovers, especially in our youth. 

There is nothing wrong with these good feelings, but we do ourselves -- and people of different ages around us -- a disservice if we allow ourselves to think that our particular generation has a monopoly on good music.

Student Participation 

In the comments below, I invite students (or others visiting this blog) to share examples of the kind of comment I am referencing above. A day after this post, I saw a typical one, with a bit of a clever twist. 

This appeared on the Facebook page of author Tom Bernstein and had been shared over 1,500 times in the first five days. I bravely clicked on the comments section, and found three interesting kinds of comments. Some objected to the premise, arguing that there is plenty of good music today that the writer was missing. Others expressed agreement -- "you got that right" and so on. And still others simply referenced some of that earlier music, such as that of CSNY. 

Current students are also invited to provide links to evidence for (or against) the claim I make above, regarding the psychological importance of the music we enjoy in our youth.

A Letter To The Earth

What could be more fitting for a class on world music than an album with the title A Letter to the Earth? It is a recent production of Dominican-American jazz drummer and composer Ivanna Cuesta, who is a featured performer at this weekend's Mission Hill Arts Festival.

Yesterday's edition of the GBH program The Culture Show begins with an interview about the festival and her role in it, along with her in-studio performance of the title track. The program itself is wide-ranging, so after learning about the festival and the music, you can learn about the wacky story of the marathon at the 1904 Olympics and about ice cream in Massachusetts today. 

Enjoy!

Shared Centennial

VERSION: August 2, 2024

I am initiating this post is on the centennial of the birth of James Baldwin (August 2, 1924). It will be updated between now and the centennial of Amílcar Cabral's birth (September 12, 1924).

I recently noticed that the two men were born in the same summer. Neither is thought of as a musician, but both were poets, and their contributions are relevant to the way this course approaches world music.

A good starting point for learning about Baldwin is "On the centennial of his birth, James Baldwin remains relevant today" -- a short conversation from today's NPR's Morning Edition. I also recommend his interview with Terry Gross, which she rebroadcast on Fresh Air for the occasion of this centennial. 

Regarding Cabral, to begin I sharing Cabral ka Mori (Cabral is Not Dead), a song that was produced by my friend and BSU colleague Angelo Barbosa to honor this centennial. Many more songs are forthcoming in this project. We will have much more to share about this project. The title itself is a reminder that something that is very poetic in one language might appear less elegant in translation.

I also recommend the Wikipedia article about each of them -- James Baldwin and Amílcar Cabral for some basic facts about them and their work.  

We will have much more to say about why Cape Verde (Cabo Verde) is so important to our region of Southeastern Massachusetts. The Tale of Two Capes museum exhibit by 2023 BSU graduate Carolyn King tells part of the story.

I will be adding resources about both men to this particular post, and will invite students in The Planet Sings to draw their own comparisons. Please check the version date at the top of this post when you return.

Lagniappe 

An example -- Regresso by Amilcar Cabral in English and Portuguese

Escritorio Pequeñito

The Tiny Desk Concerts at National Public Radio emerged from the frustration NPR host Bob Boilen and editor Stephen Thompson experienced at the 2008 South by Southwest festival in Austin.

The noise of the crowds had drowned out the music, leading the pair to create a bare-bones venue in Boilen's office, leading to hundreds of performances there and thousands more in similarly small spaces everywhere, after the Tiny Desk team launched an online contest.

I recommend the Tiny Desk Wikipedia article for more background because this origin story is difficult to find on the NPR web site itself. Then dive into the Tiny Desk page for so much more music!

In its early years, the series was sometimes criticized as too narrow, but a very wide variety of musical genres are now included and encouraged. It being a contest, the series surfaces far more excellent performances than can be declared winners.

On the July 9, 2024 edition of All Things Considered, Mary Louise Kelly begins by mentioning the Philharmonix, with its cleverly staged winning entry "What's It All Mean?" Watch this carefully -- it is full of subtle visual humor, with musicians who never break character. 

Kelly then asked Alt Latino host Felix Contreras to discuss some of his Latin music favorites from among this year's entries. Although some might consider Latino music a genre, it is an umbrella term for the many musics of Latin America, the Caribbean, and Spain. 

I recommend listening to their seven-minute conversation, which includes short audio clips from four of this year's contestants and his ideas about why he likes them and what genres they represent, and then watching each performance. Because the contest is based on video entries, I was able to find all four of these performances on YouTube; the musicians have additional music on that platform and elsewhere. Enjoy!

The first performance Contreras mentions is Taza de Café by Cáthia, a Salvadoran American from the Bronx. The song compares a lover to a cup of coffee -- or more specifically, uses the desire for a cup of coffee as a metaphor for her romantic attraction. I was interested in the coffee connection, of course, especially when Contreras mentioned that the performance was recorded in a café. That would have been perfect for the Coffee Maven, but the actual stage is a bodega in Miami -- equally wonderful, but not a café.

The lyrics are fairly simple but Cáthia sings with such gusto that I had some difficulty understanding some parts. I'm grateful for the lyrics and translation she provides on the YouTube page. 

He next mentions Lluvia Pesado (Heavy Rain) by Flaco el Jandro, a song that mentions coffee in a different context. For years I had assumed that cumbia was a style originating in the US-Mexico borderlands, but Contreras tells us that it originates in Colombia and is now very widespread in Latin America. 

The YouTube page includes some background on this artist and some mostly correct lyrics, this time only in Spanish.

After Contreras expresses relief that he was not a judge in this round, Kelly presses him to name a favorite "just between us" and he queues up a ranchera by Puerto Rican Mireya Ramos, who returns to the Tiny Desk with a band called The Poor Choices.

This is a soaring, operatic ballad that blends ranchera with many influences, even country. 

Finally, Contreras offers the song "Guero" ("Blond") by Los Quinceañeros when asked for a song to end the session. It is a fun, irreverent blend of cumbia, punk, and surf -- all dressed in cheesy outfits and staging.

The title apparently refers to the blond, nerdy guy sitting at a tiny desk in the middle of the band. This song is a little bit abstract.

This rounds out what promised to be -- and is -- a selection that illustrates the increasingly great diversity of Latin music.

Lagniappe

It is perhaps a cliché to point out that one advantage of being a teacher is that I never stop learning, and much of what I learn comes directly from students. I have been an avid NPR listener for over 40 years and have learned a lot about music from it. Even so, I was only vaguely aware of the Tiny Desk Concerts until Esha -- a student in my honors colloquium on New Orleans -- brought some music to my attention for that course. She then realized that I did not know much about the series in general and explained to me and another student that has become one of her favorite sources of music, giving us many of her favorite finds as a start. Thank you, Esha!

Musical Wisdom of Ibrahim Maalouf

 For students in my class and other students of cultural geography (which should be everyone), I recommend Jen White's interview with Ibrahim Maalouf on the radio program 1A. Produced by Haili Blassingame and originally broadcast earlier in 2024, the staff of 1A selected it as a highlight for rebroadcast during the holiday-week of Independence Day. 

The title of this episode is French Lebanese trumpeter Ibrahim Maalouf blends sound and defies genre. It is an hour well spent. 

GEOG 298 students, please take notes about what you notice in this discussion/performance. Meanwhile, I will mention a few of the highlights in what I heard.

Around 7m30s, he talks about the variety of understandings that can be found within a single country or tradition. His words here remind me of Chimamanda Adichie's TED Talk, The Danger of a Single Story (itself another indispensable font of insights about how to approach learning about people and places)

Throughout the interview, he emphasizes the role of music in building for him what is the most important thing: empathy. This is something both more important and more complicated than sympathy. He is embodying the motto my friends at the Polus Center use to describe their worldview. Despite the importance of the multitude of good and bad human experiences, the remind us that "People are more alike than different."

At about 34m he explains why finds teaching to be an important way to continue as a learner. 

Early in the interview, he describes the legacy of his father, a self-taught musician who invented a trumpet that makes Lebanese jazz possible, for technical reasons I do not fully understand. He holds his father's legacy both in his being and literally in his hands. At 39m20s he answers a question about what. legacy he hopes to leave for his daughter. The first few words of his answer could describe what every parent should want: 

"I would like her to feel comfortable in this planet...."

He then elaborates with a more detailed answer that sets out guideposts for any parent. He then explains how travel with his daughter helps them to attain this goal.

Jen White observes that he is an optimistic person and asks how this is possible. Optimism is in short supply everywhere these days, and his own lived experience would give him more cause than most of us to reject optimism as folly. Again, please listen to his entire reply, but consider this excerpt a good glimpse into his thinking:

"There is no day I'm not crying these days. There is no single day that passes without tears going on my cheeks. No one. But I am optimistic, of course. Again, because I have no choice."

These are important words from someone who speaks every day with friends in Gaza, and who has lived similar traumas himself. 

The program ends with his performance of what he calls a very small part of his music with a song called "Our Flag," which he wrote with musician Sharon Stone. 

Lagniappe

As someone who endeavors to communicate in other languages, I am always impressed with people who do it exceptionally well. This interview is in English and Maalouf discusses very complex ideas with great clarity, despite this being at least his third language.