It is unthinkable that the third album by one of the most beloved salsa outfits of all time would have been overlooked for so long. La Sonora Ponceña’s first two LPs, Hacheros Pa’ un Palo (1968) and Fuego en el 23 (1969), were bona fide hits and established a powerhouse sound based around the virtuosic piano of their leader Papo Lucca and a full-bodied percussion section that laid a propulsive bed for an ever-winding harmonic convergence of trumpets with the piano and vocals. After a two-year break, Papo and his band of merry men came back with a vengeance. 

La Sonora Ponceña was originally founded by Papo’s father, Don Enrique “Quique” Lucca Caraballo, in 1954 from the ashes of his earlier band Conjunto Internacional (aka Orquesta Internacional). The concept of having a horn section made up completely of trumpets was lifted from one of Quique’s favorite Cuban groups, La Sonora Matancera. 

The not-so-secret ingredient in the mix was Quique’s son, Enrique “Papo” Lucca Jr. Born in 1946. Papo would record his first piano solo at the age of twelve as a guest artist with La Sonora Ponceña as they were the backing band for popular vocalists Felipe Rodriguez and Davilita on the album Al Cómpas de las Sonoras. Two years later, he stepped in as a full-time member of the band.

By 1968, Papo had taken over as musical director of the band while his father kept his hand in as director, and they soon inked a deal with Inca Records—a partnership that lasted for over thirty albums. The group was on a roll by the time they made their third album. As with their earlier recordings, the sound is raw, a mix of old-school styles with a flair for improvisation. The trumpet and rhythm sections form a well-oiled machine, while the lead singers, Luis Guillermo “Luigui” Texidor Ortiz and Humberto “Tito” Gómez, tread the line between youthful irreverence and respect for the past with great dexterity.

Larry Harlow had no idea who La Sonora Ponceña was when he came on as producer. “That was one of my first productions,” he says, “and I was kind of assigned that by Jerry Masucci.” But Harlow felt that they were kindred spirits, and even though the band was coming from Puerto Rico, he understood their deep-seated connection through the Cuban conjunto band model and immediately saw what a great player Papo Lucca was. “He had his own style of playing. He was an original!”

The band kicks off the album with the bombastic rumbon “Acere Ko,” a fast-paced party starter that was the big hit off of the album. Luigui Texidor belts it out over a furious barrage of trumpets and percussion. The band works their way through a few deep guaguancós and a simmering bolero before landing on the centerpieces of the album. The last cut on the first side, “Yemaya,” is a hot Afro-influenced paean to the powerful ocean mother. For the first third of the song, the somber, rocking beat of the sea is held forth by Papo’s piano coupling onto the steady rhythm that the percussion section has laid down, as the tropical call of the trumpets floats over them. Then Papo signals the skies to open, and the track takes on a sunnier disposition as the group works itself into a frenzy.

Side two opens with “La Pobreza y Yo,” a muscular, sobering son montuno, before diving into the heart of the album, the masterful “Oye Mi Quinto.” This descarga guagauncó kicks off with a mesmerizing, extended interplay between the percussion section and vocalists. After a couple of minutes, Papo Lucca’s true genius shines through as he leads the band through a series of deft changes in a complex and satisfying arrangement.

“They were a simple, easy band to produce, because it was just trumpets,” Harlow recalls. “They were a good band, very well rehearsed, because they played every day in Puerto Rico and they had been playing those songs for a while before they went into the studio.”

Harlow noticed the young Papo watching him behind the mixing board and took him under his wing. “I kind of tutored him in the studio. I taught him about sound waves and frequencies and things like that. He picked up production pretty quickly, and in a couple of years, he became a pretty good producer himself.”

Liner notes by Robbie Busch

Together with Héctor Lavoe and Rubén Blades, Willie Colón constituted the Holy Trinity of salsa - the three artists who took Afro-Caribbean music to remarkable levels of lyricism and sophistication.  If Lavoe was the movement's ultimate voice and Blades its poetic soul, Colón was the alchemist, the man who brought it all together.  He fostered new talent, developed a distinct trombone sound, wrote socially conscious epics and made Lavoe shine with his slick production work.  Here, Colón answers a few questions about his legendary career.  

The combination of a string ensemble with salsa on the Héctor Lavoe anthem "Periódico de Ayer" is legendary.  How did you come up with it?

I always made it a point to go against the expected formulas.  I went to [Fania president] Jerry Masucci and told him that adding strings to a salsa song could result in a huge hit for Héctor.  It was expensive and he didn't want to do it.  I was so confident about it that I offered to pay for the strings out of my own pocket if the record sold less than 200,000 copies.  But it was a huge hit and established Lavoe as El Cantante.

I'm sure you get asked about Héctor every day.  Still, would you indulge us with one Lavoe story that is worth sharing?

Spending time with Héctor was like being in a Marx Brothers movie: we were always playing practical jokes on each other.  Once I was standing backstage at the Manhattan Center and Héctor brings this totally off-the-wall, wacky guy with him.  "Willie, this gentleman has some songs that he wrote and he wants to sing them for you," he says.  He walked away and left me stuck with this crazy guy.

Your partnership with Rubén Blades was tremendously successful.  Why did it have to end?

Our perspectives on the world were so different.  Rubén arrived from Panama with a middle class education.  I'm from a low income family - born and raised in the streets of New York.  I'm in this journey - have no idea how I got here or where I'm going.  There was never a plan.  I know that this lifestyle is far from perfect at my age, but that's the way I am.  

Periodico de Ayer / Hector Lavoe