The Sound of (Latin) Music

Colombia has also developed its own brand of tropical dance music. Here, the presence of Joe Arroyo is of particular importance. A brilliant singer and composer, his Grandes éxitos (Discos Fuentes, 1999) includes 12 classic tracks, with the historically flavored "Rebelión" a dance-floor scorcher.

A Night in the Caribbean

Many people think of Cuba as the jewel in the crown of Latin music. Not only has the island produced thousands of unforgettable records, but it is also responsible for creating genres that would blossom and develop in other countries: son, cha-cha, mambo, bolero, rumba, and danzón, to name a few. Infinitely warm, the protean son is the basis for everything else that followed it. Troubadours like María Teresa Vera and Sexteto Habanero were its pioneers. But in the late nineties, American guitarist Ry Cooder assembled a choice group of veteran musicians for one of the most unexpected success stories in pop history: Buena Vista Social Club (Nonesuch, 1997). For once, here's an album that deserves the hype associated with it: sweet, joyous, timeless, and boosted by the luminous piano work of the late Rubén González.

In the fifties, during the golden era of Cuban music, Orquesta Aragón perfected the charanga aesthetic—not a song format per se, but rather a type of band, anchoring its sound on lush swashes of violin and acrobatic flute melodies. Cuban Originals (Sony International, 1998) delivers nuggets like the wide-eyed "El bodeguero." During that time, La Sonora Matancera developed an endearing combination of tropical formats with pop, the rustic rhythm section sharing the spotlight with no-frills trumpets. Boasting such singers as Celia Cruz, Carlos Argentino, and Bienvenido Granda, the orchestra recorded a battery of hits, some of which can be found on Serie nostalgia: Éxitos originales, Vol. 1 (Fonovisa, 2009). Beny Moré, Pérez Prado, Arsenio Rodríguez, and the underrated pianist Peruchín also occupy a place of honor in the pantheon of Cuban music.

Perhaps the one Latin rhythm that is easiest to dance to is the sticky merengue. Born in the Dominican Republic, the modern merengue is made instantly recognizable by its 2/4 beat—performed on the guiro and tambora drum—and staccato brass riffs. The other popular Dominican export is bachata, also known as la música del amargue (music of bitteness). Here, bitter lyrics of tragic love affairs are embellished by spiraling guitar lines and soft bongo beats. On the commercial side of Dominican pop, Antony Santos includes both merengue and bachata on the memorable Sin ti (Plátano Records, 2003).  A more cosmopolitan approach is favored by singer/songwriter Juan Luis Guerra on Bachata rosa (Karen, 1990)—a revisionist effort to enhance bachata's appeal with jazz harmonies and poetic lyrics.

Next: Mexico: The land of rancheras. >>

Ranchera, norteño, and banda sinaloense reign supreme in Mexico. Ranchera is the traditional music performed by mariachi ensembles. Layers of string instruments and trumpets provide the backing for a larger-than-life singer to vocalize epic songs about romance and patriotic pride. José Alfredo Jiménez [Cuando lloran los hombres (Sony International, 2003)], Pedro Infante [Las mañanitas (Warner Music Latina, 2001)], Jorge Negrete [Mexicanismo (Sony International, 2006) ], Lola Beltrán [La grande (Warner Music Latina, 2002)], and Vicente Fernández [Necesito de ti (Sony International, 2009)] are some of the heroes in this field—and Linda Ronstadt's Canciones de mi padre (Asylum, 1990) delivers an accessible introduction.

Boasting a polka-like beat and tuneful accordion melodies, norteño is hugely popular. One group rises comfortably above all others: Los Tigres Del Norte, whose double-CD Jefe de jefes (Fonovisa, 1997) is a bona fide norteño masterpiece. Emerging from the state of Sinaloa and spreading throughout Mexico and the U.S., banda sinaloense is larger-than-life, often boasting more than 40 musicians onstage. The sound is opulent and somewhat frantic, combining syncopated drum rhythms with bursts of tuba and clarinet. The punchy Con la banda...el recodo!!! (Sony International, 1998) finds pop star Juan Gabriel teaming up with the biggest banda of all.

Puerto Rico occupies a unique place in the continent's music history. Besides boasting its own brand of danceable folklore—the plena and bomba, luscious styles in their own right—this Caribbean island was instrumental in the development of the pan-global genre known as salsa.

The salsa explosion of the seventies took place in New York City, crystallizing a volatile meeting of styles. The initial ingredient was a number of Cuban formats:  guaracha, cha-cha, mambo, and guaguancó. These were transformed by musicians, mostly of Puerto Rican origin, who brought forth the luxurious sheen of American big band jazz, the gritty vibe of urban R&B and soul, and the subtle influence of boricua folk. The resulting sound spawned such salsa stars as El Gran Combo, Héctor Lavoe, Ray Barretto, La Sonora Ponceña, and Rubén Blades.

Of the bandleaders, Tito Puente was the grandest. He emerged in the mambo era of the fifties and continued recording copiously until his death in 2000. His Dance Mania (Sony International, 1958) showcases the rich buffet of tropical formats that would eventually morph into salsa. The modern salsa sound explodes with full force on Eddie Palmieri's 1964 masterpiece Azúcar Pa'Ti (Tico/Fania, 1964). It contains the nine-minute-long "Azúcar"—devastating in its intensity and swing. In former Sonora Matancera vocalist Celia Cruz, salsa found its most flamboyant star. A collaboration with Nuyorican producer Willie Colón, Only They Could Have Made This Album (Vaya/Fania, 1977) has an indelible quality to it—the diva's chocolaty voice surrounded by lush layers of trombones and Colón's savvy production instinct.

Next: New directions in Latin American music. >>

Cuban music continues to be an endless source of inspiration. In its debut album A lo cubano (Surco, 2000), the Paris-based Orishas combined typical Cuban patterns with rap; the end result is exhilarating. In Mexico, quirky artists like young chanteuse Natalia Lafourcade experiment with rock, folk, and confessional songwriting. Her Casa (Sony International, 2005) is playful and wry.

Even the world of Latin pop can surprise with an idealistic vision. In the case of Juanes, the Colombian troubadour has demonstrated that you can be commercially successful and create quality music with interesting lyrics, too. The seamlessly produced La vida... es un ratico (Universal, 2007) would appear to imply that, at least for now, the future of Latin music is in good hands.