In 1997, Ry Cooder released Buena Vista Social Club,
featuring forgotten Cuban musicians being given a platform to get heard in the
States and creating an album that masqueraded as a reunion of a multi-generational
group that never really existed except as a fantasy music lineup. And it did
gangbusters here – both in the U.S. and right here at Twist – which probably
helped open the doors for this 1998 album, in which avant-leaning NYC guitarist
Marc Ribot formed a (real) group he dubbed Los Cubanos Postizos (The Prosthetic
Cubans) to pay homage to Arsenio Rodríguez, a hugely influential Cuban musician
in his own right.
Rodríguez was born in Cuba, lost
his sight at any early age, and learned to play the tres cubano (a 6-stringed
relative of the guitar), working in several bands before forming his own group
in the 1940’s and laying the foundations for modern salsa (and, he claimed, the
mambo as well) with his rhythmic acuity and songwriting skills. After emigrating
to the U.S., he worked in New York until moving to L.A. and passing away in
1970, a largely forgotten figure. But Ribot was familiar with his work and here
assembled a group of tunes either written or popularized by Rodríguez (plus one
original and another classic Cuban tune) and scaled them down to fit his
Prosthetics – a quartet of his guitar, bass, drums and percussion, augmented
often by organ, less often by vocals, and once by a goofy baritone sax that
suits the album’s playful vibe.
And that’s a key difference between
the similar projects enacted by Ry Cooder and Marc Ribot – while both honor the
traditions of Cuban music, Cooder’s approach is more folksy, more hands-off,
allowing the musicians to play their own tunes their own way and then adding his
own guitar (and less impressively, his son’s percussion) into the mix. Ribot,
on the other hand, decided to have some fun with the music, to filter Arsenio
Rodríguez’s tunes through his own post-modern, NYC filters to create something
at once respectful and modern – postizo also translates from Spanish as
“fake.” And it’s a gas to listen to in a way that the more stately BVSC record
isn’t. Maybe you’ve heard Ribot’s own records, maybe you haven’t Maybe you know
him from his stints with Tom Waits or Elvis Costello, or maybe the name is
completely new to you. Doesn’t matter, ‘cause if you dig guitar, you’ll be a
fan after about 30 seconds of this album.
The record kicks off with the
lovely “Aurora en Pekín” (one of the non- Rodríguez songs, written by the early
20th century Cuban musician Alfredo Boloña). Given that aurora
means “dawn” it’s a perfect opener, rising quietly and beautifully, but hardly
giving any warning of what’s to come as the day heats up. By the third song,
“Como Se Goza en el Barrio,” things are in high gear and it’s clear what kind
of Cuban music Ribot’s got in mind – traditional yet modern, danceable and
funky yet slightly bent; in a word – postizo, but not in a bad way, even
if in a way that Cooder would never condone. This is followed by the only Ribot
original of the set, “Postizo,” which further drives the point home. And though
most of the album is instrumental, there are a few vocals – “La Vida Es un
Sueño” (“Life Is A Dream,” a song Rodríguez wrote after he learned he’d never
see again) is delivered in a disaffectedly humorous monotone and deliberately
unaccented Spanish while he occasionally translates the Spanish of “No Me
Llores Más” to an equally droll English language song. Elsewhere titles are
sung or joyfully shouted from the background (“Postizo!”), but most of the
record remains the core group – bass, drums, and percussion – with Ribot’s
guitar doing most of the talking, sending out melodic lines or ripping leads as
dictated by the songs.
The Cubanos Postizos released a
second album that’s also well worth your time (2000’s Muy Divertido!),
but it’s been in and out of print for a while. It has less surefire tunes –
though Arsenio Rodríguez’s “El Divorcio” is a killer, as is Marc Ribot’s “Baile
Baile Baile” – but more rocking lead guitar to compensate. Maybe it’s fake and
the ethnomusicologists out there would find it too ersatz to take seriously.
But as something of a fake ethnomusicologist myself, and one who revels in
syntheses of music from all over the globe, I find it completely entertaining.
Give it a listen and you probably will too.
- Patrick Brown
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