$19.99
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The childhood of José ‘Cheo’ Feliciano was poor but happy. His parents were Prudencio, a carpenter, and Crecensia, a homemaker. Cheo inherited from them a taste for the irresistible seduction of music. On Sunday afternoons, recovering from a week's work, his parents would sing the popular boleros and guarachas of the time. Together with Raúl Manfredi and a few other boys from the neighborhood of Bélgica de Ponce, Cheo discovered the magic of Afro-Caribbean percussion. He received his first formal music lessons by Julio Alvarado, at the school Escuela Libre de Música Juan Morel Campos. The defining moment that introduced Cheo into the mambo craze and burgeoning salsa movement happened in New York, when he became the conga player with Conjunto Marianasi, led by Luis Cruz. In his first live gigs, Cheo would imitate the famous soneros of the time. At the infamous Palladium, the mecca of mambo,Tito Rodríguez gave him his first opportunity as a singer. "I wanted to sound just like Tito," remembers Feliciano. "His perfectionism and professionalism were an example to follow. Tito was my teacher, mentor and advisor. He recommended me to Joe Cuba's sextet." A sonero is established During the '50s, Cheo joined the Joe Cuba Sextet and made it big. The leadership of the great orchestras of Tito Puente, Machito and Tito Rodríguez was coming to an end, and a trend favoring smaller orchestras was established. The Joe Cuba Sextet became a phenomenon, particularly because of the intensity and versatility of the Sabater-Feliciano combination - unequaled in the history of Latin music. Through hits such as "El Pito," "Nina" and "El Ratón" (the latter was reminiscent of his childhood, when the singer and his friends chased rodents with slings), Cheo experienced fame. Sadly, he fell victim to the temptations of controled substances. "At the time, people weren't really aware of drugs and their dangers," he explains. "Most of us experienced all that due to ignorance. Young people are always searching for adventure. We were offered drugs, with the promise that they would make us feel good. We knew nothing of the addiction, illnesses and other consequences that lay ahead." After he spent days wandering about the Latin barrio, Eddie Palmieri reminded him that he was a talented man - that he could stand up. Eddie gave him two tracks - Marcelino Guerra's "Busca Lo Tuyo" and "Ay, Que Rico" - on the 1968 LP Champagne. Fortunately, Cheo was able to see the light at the end of the tunnel. He spent a week at home, deep in reflection. Months later, in December of 1969, he moved to Puerto Rico and became one of the pioneers in the drug foundation Hogares Crea. With a little help from my friends The final realization of Cheo as an artist, and his redemption as a human being, happened thanks to the generosity of a number of friends - Tite Curet Alonso, Tommy Olivencia, Silvio Iglesias - who made a conscious attempt to help him return to singing. Tite and Cheo met in New York, 110th and Madison, the heart of the Latin barrio. They were introduced by Fernando Sterling, a common friend. Back in Puerto Rico, Tite visited him frequently at Hogar Crea. He also introduced him to Jerry Masucci, who signed him as an exclusive artist with Vaya Records. With arrangements by Bobby Valentín and Nick Jiménez, and the songwriting wisdom of Tite Curet Alonso, Feliciano recorded the album Cheo, which includes classic cuts such as "Anacaona" and "Mi Triste Problema." "I always knew that I would write a good song for Cheo," recalled Tite during an interview. "'Anacaona' tells the story of an Indian princess from the Dominican Republic. The Spaniards killed her husband, Prince Caonabo. Romantic themes were at the core of the other songs that I wrote for this album. “Mi Triste Problema” talks about couples that are married in paper, but share no love between them." The only black man whose pores sweat honey Mentioning the name of José ‘Cheo’ Feliciano in 2009 is talking of a veritable gentleman of the stage, an altruistic example of self-realization, and a multifaceted singer who has shone in every Latin genre. During the mambo section of the Tite Curet composition "Trizas," Cheo points out that he is "the only black man whose pores sweat honey" - an allusion to his innate romanticism. This collection could not be complete without "Amada Mía" by José Nogueras, and "Juguete" by Bobby Capó, boasting a string arrangement by Argentine producer Jorge Calandrelli, who became internationally famous through his work for Cheo. "When Tito Rodríguez died, Fania tried to turn Cheo into a new version of Tito," explained Tite Curet. "It didn't work out, because Tito was sui generis, and Cheo was different. He found his way again with the album Estampas." The voice of the salsa chronicle If we strive to be true to the real story of José ‘Cheo’ Feliciano - the man and his music - the exercise of documenting his relationship to song demands that we underscore the fact that, just like salsa would not exist without Tite Curet, Cheo's career would not have enjoyed the prestige and credibility that it did without Tite's songs. Tite was Cheo's "musical tailor." And without Cheo's voice, Tite's chronicles - inspired in real life - would not have transcended with such eloquence and social impact. "Anacaona," "Pa' que afinquen" and "Mi triste problema" A successful trilogy of songs, culled from Cheo's debut LP for the Vaya label. Released in 1971, the album was a virtual passport to the gathering of Fania stars at the Cheetah club. This was more than deserved for Cheo, since he was a veteran of the jam sessions held by the Tico and Alegre All Stars at the Village Gate. "Anacaona". The sequel to this song is titled "Canoabo." Cheo did not record it. "Pa' Que Afinquen" is a tasty son that finds Cheo admitting that other singers took advantage of his long absence from the music scene. However, he has no trouble recapturing the spotlight, because he sings from the heart and without skipping the clave - like a few of his competitors do. "Mi Triste Problema" describes the tragedy of the man who lives with a lady whom he doesn't love anymore - either to keep up appearances, for fear of what people may say, or because of a contract or promise made to God. "Armonioso Cantar" and "Naborí" In 1973, following the album of boleros with strings La Voz Sensual that Jorge Calandrelli had produced the previous year, Tite and Cheo met again for the project With A Little Help From My Friend. The sequel to "Pa' Que Afinquen," "Armonioso Cantar" is another delightful son where Cheo reclaims his leadership as a sonero who feels "the rhythm in his heart." The story of a man who is exploited during the time of the Caribbean sugar plantations, "Naborí" tackles the issue of racial discrimination. "Estampa marina" and "Los Entierros" Two classics of narrative salsa, recorded in 1979. "Estampa Marina" was inspired by the experiences of fishermen from the region of Vieques de Loíza, Puerto Rico, who went fishing with the uncertainty of their return - quite often, the sea would punish their humble boats, bringing sorrow and despair to their families. Tite wrote "Estampa II: El Regreso," but Cheo has never recorded it. "Los Entierros" stems from Tite witnessing a funeral procession in the community of Nemesio R. Canales in Bayamón, Puerto Rico. The family of the deceased was so poor, that the flowers in the procession were made out of paper. One of the greats Today, José ‘Cheo’ Feliciano is the dean of all salsa singers, with over five decades of pure feeling and flavor. Considering his trajectory, Cheo is clearly one of the five most emblematic vocalists in the history of salsa. In no particular order, since each one of these is in a class of his very own, Cheo is a legend - together with Ismael Rivera, Héctor Lavoe, Rubén Blades and Celia Cruz. Just like Cheo, these artists sing truthfully, and they have always brought joy to people. Liner notes by Jaime Torres-Torres
A Toda Maquina Con La Banda De Tommy
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$16.98
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Pablo “Tito” Rodríguez remains a towering figure whose influence over modern Latin music must never be underestimated. From his precocious musical beginnings in Puerto Rico, through his successful career in New York during the height of the mambo era, to his resettling in Puerto Rico and becoming an internationally known heartthrob for his universally appealing romantic ballad style, his work was always of the highest quality and diversity. In retrospect, it’s served as a musical blueprint for the salsa and Latin jazz of the 1970s and beyond. This compilation aims to demonstrate the multidimensional talents of this seminal performer, bringing together essential tracks from several labels, across two decades of magical music making. What made Rodríguez unique was his special combination of talents: simultaneously being a versatile vocalist and a multitalented instrumentalist, composer, and bandleader. This is evident from the early part of his career with George Goldner’s Tico label, for which he recorded numerous sides as Tito Rodríguez and Los Lobos del Mambo in a relatively small eight-piece format featuring four trumpets exclusively as the brass section. No greatest hits collection would be complete without some version of the Rodríguez-penned anthem “Mambo Mona,” named for Goldner’s Puerto Rican wife Ramona, later recorded as “Mama Güela.” In 1960, Rodríguez hoped the newly formed United Artists would prove to be greener pastures. He proved with his first release, Live at the Palladium, that he was a consummate showman in control of a modern, dynamic, and disciplined big band that was as powerful in a live context as it had been polished in the studio. The orchestra, which included the young Eddie Palmieri for the time, was able to execute the most awe-inspiring clockwork moves on the bandstand, with many band members improvising riffs. With the cowbell loud and up front, Tito’s surefire direction and magnetic presence whipped his audience and musicians into a wild frenzy. From this riveting Palladium session comes the huge international hit “El Sabio,” another Rodríguez original covered by everyone from Peret to the Fania All-Stars. No other Latin big band released a live recording from that storied dance venue; Tito recorded two brilliant albums there, proving his popularity with the multicultural milieu that frequented the club. Rodríguez was adept at taking tunes popularized in one style and rearranging them in another, often choosing songs composed by others and making them his own to great success. Tito knew his audience and realized that with his stunning good looks and smoky tenor voice, he had great potential as a romantic crooner of boleros and ballads. So, despite the opposition of his label, he decided to record Tito Rodríguez with Love, an immensely popular album that opened up his market to a wider international audience. “Inolvidable” is perhaps his best-known recording in this vein and set the standard for modern Latin heartthrob idols to come. The posthumous collection of rarities Lo Inedito, shows his talent for taking a composition from another context—this time, an Italian-language hit for crooners like Connie Francis—and putting his own original stamp on it, retooling it as a gently lilting jazz-waltz bolero. The collection also included the famous Arsenio Rodríguez composition “Llora Timbero,” which roughly translates as “cry for the rumba performer,” also covered by Libre. Rodríguez starts his 1969 version with a traditional opening for an all-percussion rumba, a bit of vocalese called the diana, and goes on to sing moving lyrics that praise the deceased dancer and percussionist Malanga, and, in a way, the recording serves as a fitting epitaph for Tito himself, because he was to die before his time just a few years later and was similarly mourned by all.Tito Rodriguez - Anthology Pablo “Tito” Rodríguez sigue siendo una figura imponente, cuya influencia sobre la música latina moderna jamás debe ser subestimada. Su obra siempre fue de gran calidad y diversidad, desde su precoz comienzo musical en Puerto Rico hasta su exitosa carrera en Nueva York durante el apogeo de la era del mambo, seguido por su regreso a Puerto Rico, en donde se convirtió en galán internacional gracias a su estilo romántico y universal con el cual interpretaba sus baladas. En retrospectiva, sus obras han sido una especie de mapa musical para la salsa y el jazz latino de la década de los 70, y más allá. El objeto de esta colección musical es demostrar el talento multidimensional de este artista tan original, recopilando temas esenciales de varias disqueras a través de dos décadas de magia musical. Rodríguez era inigualable, gracias a la combinación de los talentos que poseía: era, simultáneamente, un vocalista versátil, un instrumentalista de muchos talentos, compositor, y líder de banda. Esto es evidente desde el comienzo de su carrera con Tico, la disquera de George Goldner, para la cual grabó numerosos sencillos como “Tito Rodríguez y Los Lobos del Mambo”, en un formato relativamente sencillo de ocho piezas que incluía cuatro trompetas exclusivamente dedicadas a la sección viento-metálica. Ninguna colección de grandes éxitos estaría completa sin alguna versión del tema “Mambo Mona”, escrito por Rodríguez sobre Ramona, la esposa puertorriqueña de Goldner, y luego grabado con el nombre “Mama Güela”. A mediados de los años 50, Tico Records comenzó a reformatear discos grabados en 78 rpm en los nuevos formatos LP de 12", sencillos de 7" de 45 rpm, y EPs. De Mambo Madness, el primer álbum de larga duración de Tito, proviene “Chen Chere en Guma”, un popular número bailable cuya letra se origina, en parte, del idioma congolés de la secta religiosa afro-cubana Abakuá. De este disco innovador también surge “Harlem Nightmare”. Esta pista pudiera bien ser de una película del cine negro, con su cinemático y perturbador tema principal y percusión maníaca (Tito en los timbales), indicando el poderoso enlace entre la música latina y el jazz que a su vez engendró el mambo. En 1960, Rodríguez esperaba que la nueva disquera United Artists pudiera ser una mejor opción. Con su primer lanzamiento, Live at the Palladium, demostró ser un consumado artista a cargo de una moderna, dinámica y disciplinada banda, tan potente en sus presentaciones en vivo como lo era pulida en el estudio. La orquesta, que entonces incluía al joven Eddie Palmieri, era capaz de ejecutar imponentes coreografías en el escenario mientras varios miembros de la banda improvisaban frases musicales. Con el cencerro a todo volumen y en primera plana, la dirección acertada y presencia magnética de Tito llevaban al público y a los músicos a un frenesí salvaje. De esta cautivante sesión en el Palladium proviene el gran éxito internacional “El Sabio”, otro sencillo original que posteriormente también grabaron muchos otros artistas, desde Peret hasta las Estrellas de Fania. Ninguna otra gran orquesta latina lanzó una grabación en vivo desde ese historiado lugar de baile; Tito grabó dos álbumes allí, demostrando su popularidad entre la muchedumbre multicultural que frecuentaba el club. Rodríguez fácilmente adaptaba canciones popularizadas en un estilo cambiándole los arreglos a otro, seleccionando a menudo canciones compuestas por otros y haciéndolas suyas con mucho éxito. Tito conocía a su público y se dio cuenta de que con su buena apariencia y voz seductora de tenor, poseía un gran potencial como cantante romántico de boleros y baladas. Y así, a pesar de las protestas de su sello, decidió grabar Tito Rodríguez with Love, un álbum inmensamente popular que amplió su mercado a una mayor audiencia internacional. “Inolvidable” es quizás su grabación más conocida en este género y fijó el modelo para los futuros ídolos románticos modernos. La colección póstuma de rarezas Lo Inédito, muestra su talento para tomar una composición en un contexto ajeno—en este caso un éxito en italiano para cantantes como Connie Francis— y ponerle su sello original, rehaciéndola como un arrullador bolero jazz-vals. La colección también incluye “Llora Timbero”, la famosa composición de Arsenio Rodríguez, que fuera grabada también por Libre. Rodríguez da inicio a su versión de 1969 con un comienzo tradicional para una rumba de percusión, un poco de vocalización llamada “la diana”, y prosigue a cantar letras conmovedoras que exaltan a la fallecida bailarina y percusionista Malanga. De cierta manera, la grabación sirve de epitafio para el propio Tito, porque habría de morir antes de tiempo pocos años después y fue igualmente llorado por todos.
Asalto Navideno Deluxe Edition
$9.99
The greatest Tropical Christmas album set ever is now being released for the 2011 season. It’s packaged in a digipack with both volumes of the evergreen classic and original booklets. With Christmas just a few weeks away, it's time to focus on the amazing selection of Holiday albums that were produced during the apex of the salsa era. From Ismael Rivera and Cheo Feliciano to the venerable El Gran Combo, many legendary artists celebrated the traditions of Puerto Rican Christmas through their own albums. The best one of the bunch, however, is Asalto Navideño, created in the early '70s by salsa's dynamic duo, Héctor Lavoe and Willie Colón. Asalto is one of the most soulful albums ever made by Lavoe and Colón - and it includes the hit single "La Murga," a staple across Latin American dancefloors. Part of the album's success can be credited to the presence of cuatro master Yomo Toro, who permeates the recording with the roots of authentic boricua folk. A mandatory addition to any comprehensive collection of tropical music, Asalto Navideño is now available as a digital download. My abuela taught me to respect and appreciate the jíbaro (Puerto Rican peasant) & most things Puerto Rican. The '50s were an exciting time for Latinos in New York. As a little boy, I loved listening to the old timers sitting on milk crates in front of David’s (Daví) Bodega singing décimas and aguinaldos. It gave me a sense of pride to watch them as they eloquently challenged each other in verse. I loved the fancy words, the quick wit. I wished I could express myself like that. El Ciego (The Blind Man) is the champ of the block. He will take anyone, as Daví keeps the beers coming. It's the heyday of dance music. The Palladium is rocking. There are many exciting dance halls in the Bronx where you can go all decked out and dance the night away. It's the magic of New York. The New York Puerto Ricans (Nuyoricans) dance generation finds the old guitar and cuatro music boring. They mock it, calling it “guilinguín guilinguín” music. There is a separation between the Puerto Rican jíbaros who are into this highly lyrical folkloric music, and the new generation of Nuyorican who barely understand Spanish and who express their Latin identity through their bodies in dance. The name jíbaro has the connotation of a “hick” or “hillbilly.” Being raised by an old school jíbara placed me smack in the middle of this phenomenon. The jíbaros and their cuatros squatting by the bodega next door to my building, and the rumberos playing their congas in the vacant lots and the schoolyard up the block. This is the cultural foundation upon which my life and my career were built. It's the late 50’s. My mom works at a lingerie shop on 149th street, near Brook Avenue. I walk up to the store after school. It is over a mile away, going through many different turfs. Along St. Mary’s Park, I turn left at the pet shop on the corner of St. Anne’s and 149th. I always stop to look at the animals there before continuing to Maury’s Lingerie. While I'm visiting my mom, a customer walks into the shop. I step outside for a while; after all, buying underwear is a personal kind of thing. While waiting, I walk a couple of storefronts toward the middle of the block and look into the window of La Campana Bar. I can hear a group playing inside; it’s one of those “guilinguín guilinguín” trios. The sign on the window reads “Friday Nights: Yomo Toro.” I try to peek in, but someone pulls me away so that I won’t see the go-go girls. By the '60s, with the Vietnam war and civil rights movement in the forefront, the baby boomer rumberos have all but taken over the block. At night, the rumberos put their drums away and go dancing, or listen to the Symphony Sid or Dick Ricardo Sugar radio shows on the stoop. The jam sessions in the schoolyards and parks are more developed now. They are well attended, with all kinds of amateur musicians showing up to play, including myself. I’m around 12 years old. Most of the conga drummers are Puerto Rican. Papín is Cuban and brings a full bass. Fernando is Dominican. He brings his violin. Tijoe is African American; he and I play the trumpet. Guaguancó, bomba, plena. The music represents our spirit and identity. Most of the older guys are gone. Drafted to Vietnam or in jail, mostly for drugs, or dead from one of the two. As the American Apartheid is in its death throes, we watch Martin Luther King marching through Selma on black and white TV. While hostile racist police (minimum height: 6.5’) sweeps our jam sessions for “Illegal Assembly” or “Disturbing the Peace,” we feel part of the movement. We return the following day if the weather and conditions are right. This is our little piece of civil disobedience, in solidarity with the cause. It’s 1971. Héctor Lavoe and I have a string of hits off our first six albums. The jíbaro qualities of Héctor inspires me to try a crazy experiment. I visit Fania president and owner Jerry Masucci, who now believes I have the Midas touch, to pitch him a Christmas Record. I start explaining that it will be a traditional jíbaro Christmas record, when Jerry interrupts me. "Yeah, yeah yeah," he says. "Just bring me the record. I don’t need to know anything." I am ecstatic and start preproduction work on Asalto Navideño. Asalto (assault) was the perfect word, since we were already embracing a comical gangsta image. The asalto is a Puerto Rican Christmas tradition that involves being assaulted by a group of carolers. If you don’t have anything to offer, the carolers sing insults to the homeowners for being so stingy. I “move up” into Woodlawn, the Irish area of the Bronx. Across the street from my apartment are two vacant storefronts. I rent them and unite them into one, bringing in a grand piano, soundproofing and upgrading the space into a rehearsal studio. Marty Sheller lives in Co-op City nearby, and our first project at the studio is Asalto. Marty helps me orchestrate the sketches I wrote for the "Popurrí" (a medley of aguinaldos), “Esta Navidad” and “La Murga.” Héctor helps me finish the lyrics. He acts as my jíbaro connection. I ask him to find some original jíbaro songs, and he brings “Aires De Navidad” by Robertito García, “Vive Tu Vida Contento” and “Canto A Borinquen” both by "Ramito" Flor Morales Ramos. The arrangements are ready, and it's now time to conduct our first full rehearsal. I call the guys: Milton, Mangual, Professor Joe, Santi, Willie Campbell, Roberto García, Louie Romero. We rehearse late into the night. In the morning, I return and see that the storefront has been wrecked. Must be the gentlemen from the pub around the corner. I call Mikey from the old block, he works in construction. I have him build a brick front with two bulletproof windows. Now that the problems is solved, we can go on with the album. We are finally ready to book the recording studio. I’m listening to Polito Vega’s radio show and he’s doing call-ins. You can sing any song over the phone and Polito has Yomo Toro with him to accompany the callers on the cuatro. I ask Héctor if he knows Yomo. He said Robertito knows him well. We invite Yomo to the recording session. Word gets out about this crazy idea, and even Polito shows up to the session. It’s like a party. The band is well rehearsed, fired up, ready to make some music. Yomo shows up, and Pacheco is beginning to grasp what’s going on. He asks Yomo: "What are you doing here? Are you recording with Ramito?” Yomo locks with the band as if he had been playing with us for years. Everybody feels the vibe. Polito is excited and wants to get into the act. We ask him to MC the intro to the record while we play a seis chorreao and Yomo strums. Polito slams it out of the park with his improvisations. We all felt that it was something new. But it turned out to be way more than that. Yomo became part of the Fania All Stars and a salsa favorite. Asalto Navideño has been one of the bestselling albums in its field. “La Murga” became an international standard and one of the most recorded and sampled songs to this day. Personally, Asalto Navideño allowed me to reconcile both the jíbaro and the rumbero in me. Written by Willie Colón Ahora que faltan sólo unas semanas para las fiestas de fin de año, es hora de recordar la impresionante selección de discos navideños que salieron durante el apogeo de la salsa. Desde Ismael Rivera y Cheo Feliciano hasta el venerable Gran Combo, muchos artistas celebraron las tradiciones de la Navidad en Puerto Rico con sus discos. Pero el mejor de todos es Asalto Navideño, grabado a principios de los '70 por el dúo dinámico de la salsa, Héctor Lavoe y Willie Colón. Asalto salsifica una selección estelar de canciones navideñas. Canta sobre las tradiciones boricuas con una mezcla de nostalgia y orgullo. Es uno de los discos más sentidos de la obra de Lavoe y Colón - incluyendo además el éxito "La Murga", escuchado hasta el día de hoy en pistas de baile a través de toda Latinoamérica. Parte del éxito del disco se debe a la presencia de Yomo Toro, maestro del cuatro, que empapa la grabación con las raíces del auténtico folklore boricua. Una adición indispensable a toda colección de música tropical, este disco doble, Asalto Navideño está disponible en formato de descarga digital. Mi abuela me enseñó a respetar y apreciar al jíbaro y a todo lo puertorriqueño. La década del '50 fue una era emocionante para los latinos en Nueva York. Cuando era niño, me encantaba escuchar a los veteranos sentados sobre bidones de leche delante de la Bodega de Daví, cantando décimas y aguinaldos. Sentía orgullo al verlos desafiarse el uno al otro con sus versos. Me encantaban las palabras complicadas, la rapidez de su ingenio. Quería poder expresarme de esa manera. El Ciego es el campeón de la cuadra. Puede desafiar a cualquiera, con tal que Daví siga sirviendo cervezas. Es el apogeo de la música bailable. El Palladium está que arde. En el Bronx hay muchos lugares bailables, donde se puede ir bien vestido y bailar durante toda la noche. Es la magia de Nueva York. Para la generación nuyorican de bailadores, la vieja música para guitarra y cuatro es aburrida. Se burlan de ella, llamándola guilinguín guilinguín. Existe una separación entre los jíbaros boricuas que aprecian esta música folklórica tan lírica, y la nueva generación de puertorriqueños de Nueva York que apenas hablan español y expresan su identidad latina a través de sus cuerpos, en la pista de baile. El nombre jíbaro tiene una connotación despectiva. Habiendo sido criado por una jíbara de la vieja escuela, yo me encontraba justo en el medio de este fenómeno. Los jíbaros y sus cuatros en la bodega que estaba al lado de mi edificio, y los rumberos tocando sus congas en los terrenos baldíos y el patio de la escuela. Son los cimientos culturales en los que se basaron mi vida y mi carrera. Estamos a finales de los '50. Mi madre trabaja en una lencería ubicada en la calle 149, cerca de la avenida Brook. Después de la escuela, voy caminando a la tienda. Es más de una milla, recorriendo una variedad de vecindarios. Caminando por St. Mary’s Park, hago una izquierda en la tienda de mascotas en la esquina de St. Anne y la 149. Siempre me detengo para ver los animalitos antes de llegar a Maury’s Lingerie. Mientras visito a mi mamá, un cliente entra en la tienda. Salgo a la calle por un rato; después de todo, comprar ropa interior es algo bastante íntimo. Mientras espero, camino hasta la mitad de la cuadra y miro en la ventana del bar La Campana. Hay un grupo tocando adentro; uno de esos tríos guilinguín guilinguín. Hay un cartel que dice: “Viernes por la Noche: Yomo Toro”. Trato de mirar, pero alguien me aleja de allí, para que no vea a las coristas. Durante los años '60, marcados por la guerra de Vietnam y el movimiento de los derechos civiles, los rumberos se han apoderado de la cuadra. A la noche, guardan sus tambores y salen a bailar, o escuchan los programas radiales de Symphony Sid o Dick Ricardo Sugar. Las descargas en las escuelas y los parques han crecido. Hay mucha gente, y todo tipo de músicos aficionados que vienen a tocar, incluyéndome a mí. Tengo unos 12 años. La mayoría de los congueros son puertorriqueños. Papín es cubano y trae su bajo. Fernando es dominicano y toca el violín. Tijoe es afroamericano; él y yo tocamos la trompeta. Guaguancó, bomba, plena. La música representa nuestro espíritu e identidad. Casi todos los mayores se han ido. Fueron llevados a Vietnam, o están en la cárcel, principalmente por drogas - o murieron por uno de los dos. Mientras el apartheid estadounidense está en sus últimos estertores, miramos a Martin Luther King caminando por Selma en la televisión en blanco y negro. La policía, blanca y racista (altura mínima: 6 pies con 5) clausura nuestras descargas bajo los cargos de "reunión ilegal" o por "perturbar la paz". Sentimos que somos parte del movimiento. Regresamos al día siguiente si el clima y las condiciones lo permiten. Una pizca de desobediencia civil, en solidaridad con la causa. Es 1971. Héctor Lavoe y yo tenemos una serie de éxitos en nuestros primeros seis discos. Las cualidades de jíbaro de Héctor me inspiran a intentar un experimento loco. Visito a Jerry Masucci, presidente y dueño de la Fania, que ahora cree que tengo el toque del rey Midas, para proponerle un disco navideño. Empiezo a explicarle que será un disco de navidad jíbaro, cuando Jerry me interrumpe. "Yeah, yeah yeah", me dice. "Tráeme el disco. No necesito saber nada más". Yo estoy feliz, y comienzo la preproducción de Asalto Navideño. Asalto era una palabra perfecta para nosotros, que habíamos adoptado una imagen cómica de malandrines. El asalto es una tradición puertorriqueña en la que los cantantes de villancicos van de visita a las casas. Si el dueño no tiene nada para ofrecerles, los asaltantes le cantan insultos por ser tan tacaño. Me mudo a Woodlawn, la zona irlandesa del Bronx. En el lado opuesto de mi departamento hay dos tiendas vacías. Las alquilo y las unifico. Traigo un piano y preparo el espacio a prueba de sonido, transformándolo en una sala de ensayos. Marty Sheller vive cerca, en Co-op City, y Asalto es nuestro primer proyecto juntos. Marty me ayudar a orquestar los bosquejos que escribí para "Popurrí" (una selección de aguinaldos), “Esta Navidad” y “La Murga”. Héctor me ayuda a terminar las letras. El es mi conexión con el mundo jíbaro. Le pido que encuentre algunas canciones originales, y me trae “Aires De Navidad” de Robertito García, “Vive Tu Vida Contento” y “Canto A Borinquen”, ambas de "Ramito" Flor Morales Ramos. Los arreglos están listos, y ahora hay que llevar a cabo nuestro primer ensayo formal. Llamo a los muchachos: Milton, Mangual, el profesor Joe, Santi, Willie Campbell, Roberto García, Louie Romero. Ensayamos durante toda la noche. Cuando vuelvo a la mañana, veo que la fachada del lugar está destrozada. Seguramente fueron los caballeros del bar de la esquina. Llamo a Mikey del viejo barrio, trabaja en construcción. Lo contrato para que construya una pared de ladrillos con dos ventanas a prueba de bala. Habiendo resuelto ese problema, podemos seguir con el disco. Finalmente, estamos listos para reservar el estudio de grabación. Escucho el programa radial de Polito Vega, que está tomando llamadas. Uno puede cantar lo que quiera por teléfono, y Polito tiene a Yomo Toro con el cuatro para acompañar a los que llaman. Le pregunto a Héctor si conoce a Yomo. Dice que Robertito lo conoce bien. Invitamos a Yomo a la grabación. La gente se entera de esta idea loca, y hasta Polito viene a la sesión. Parece una fiesta. El grupo está bien ensayado, encendido, listo para crear. Aparece Yomo, y Pacheco empieza a entender todo lo que está pasando. Le pregunta: "¿Qué haces aquí? ¿Viniste a grabar con Ramito? Yomo se fusiona con la banda como si hubiera tocado con nosotros por años. Todos sienten la buena vibra. Polito está emocionado y quiere participar. Le pedimos que narre la introducción, mientras tocamos un seis chorreao con Yomo. Polito hace un trabajo impresionante con sus improvisaciones. En ese momento, sentimos que estábamos creando algo nuevo. Pero fue mucho más que eso. Yomo se convirtió en integrante de la Fania All Stars, y un favorito de la salsa. Asalto Navideño ha sido uno de los discos más vendidos en su género. “La Murga” es un clásico internacional, y uno de los temas más grabados y sampleados de la música tropical. A un nivel personal, Asalto Navideño me permitió reconciliar al jíbaro y el rumbero que viven dentro de mi. Escrito por Willie Colón
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