Category: "latin"
JOE BATAAN: THE BOOGALOO KID
Tags: boogaloo
Joe Bataan: Subway Joe
Joe Bataan: Freedom
From Under the Streetlamps (Fania, 2008)
If folks don't mind a personal plug, I wrote the liner notes for a new anthology chronicling the years Latin soul star Joe Bataan spent with Fania Records: Under the Streetlamps (if anyone's interested, here's an excerpt). For those of you unfamiliar with Bataan, in the late 1960s, he was part of a wave of Latin boogaloo artists to rise out of the New York Latin scene and Bataan quickly became one of the giants in the scene, especially with hits such as "Gypsy Woman" and "It's a Good Feeling (Riot)." Bataan was also an unusual figure in the East Harlem streets where he grew up - he was half-Black/half-Filipino but was able to pass for Puerto Rican. Much of his teen years were consumed by life in local street gangs, culminating in a couple of jail stints that encouraged him to transition into something less risky, i.e. music. As a Latin soul vocalist raised on equal parts Frankie Lymon and Tito Puente, Bataan's was a unique voice in the Latin boogaloo scene. He wasn't a pop crooner in the tradition of Frank Sinatra, instead he brought more of a doo-wop/R&B influence, helping broaden his appeal to not just Latin Americans but African Americans and whites as well.
Under the Streetlamps is the first official Fania anthology that looks at Bataan's impressive catalog on the label (for the interested, be sure to also see Vampisoul's excellent pair of Bataan comps) and they do an impressive job of consolidating songs strewn across over half a dozen albums, into a tight 20 song package that includes a few exclusives (such as the original, unreleased Futura version of "Ordinary Guy"). For the uninitiated, I plucked two - "Subway Joe" was one of his biggest boogaloo hits from 1967 and gives you a sense of his style as both singer and storyteller. "Freedom," from the Poor Boy album of 1970, shows how Bataan as evolved with the times, showcasing his engagement and awareness with the Civil Rights Movement of the times; not a common sight in Latin music of that particular era.
(If you want to listen some more, check out this post back at Soul-Sides.com)
JACKSON CONTI: THE SOUTHLAND MEETS SÃO PAOLO
Tags: brazilian
Jackson Conti: Upa Neguinho
From Sujinho (Mochilla, 2008)
The music and rhythms of Brazil have been a passion of Brian Cross (aka photographer B+) for years, but even more intensely since 2002, when he traveled to São Paolo to film Brasilintime, a documentary celebrating the country's sonic culture. Like B+'s first documentary, Keepintime, he's drawn to the kinetic complexities of percussion and he's encouraged collaborations between U.S. DJs and drummers and their Brazilian counterparts. The Jackson Conti project is very much in that vein, pairing the über-prolific Los Angeles producer Madlib with famed Brazilian drummer Ivan "Mamão" Conti.
Conti, better known as Mamão, came to fame as the drummer for the jazz fusion trio, Azymuth, and the way he and Madlib put together Sujinho plays to both men's strengths. Mamão laid down a series of rhythm tracks - pure percussion - which Madlib then sat with and eventually reworked into the final songs here. Fans of Madlib's YNQ style will be pleased here: lots of mellifluent keys and off-kilter rhythmic twists but Conti's drumming anchors the songs, providing a strong, organic core that allows Madlib to creatively swirl around.
"Upa Neguinho" was the first single off the album and it's a cover of a popular bossa nova track, best associated with Elis Regina (on the Jackson Conti version, Thalma de Freitas helms the vocals. You can hear Conti's thunderous drumming from jump - dropping hard and heavy - before Freitas' voice comes soaring in, lightly complemented by Madlib's sprinkling of keys. The overall song is bright and cheery in the best traditions of bossa nova but Mamão's drums layer a dazzling thicket of polyrhythms underneath that's a few steps more complex than some of the bossa you may be used to. Be sure to check out "Tijuca Man" too for some rawer, more uncut Mamão madness.
LOUIE RAMIREZ: LATIN SOUL SPECIALIST
Tags: boogaloo, latin jazz
Louie Ramirez: Chin Chon Chow
Jimmy Sabater: Times Are Changin'
Both from Louie's Grooves (Vampisoul, 2005)
When it comes to the big names in the Latin soul/boogaloo era of the late 1960s, the late Louie Ramirez isn't as well-known a figure as say, Joe Cuba, Pete Rodriguez or Joe Bataan. Those artists were responsible for some of boogaloo hits and as a result, they continually appear on anthologies and compilations highlighting the movement. However, while Ramirez may not have been as obvious a household name, it's hard to imagine a more prolific and deeply embedded talent in the Latin soul scene. Ramirez was a bandleader and musician in his own right but also a gifted composer and arranger and even when his name didn't headline an album, his influence was everywhere else on a record. He was some what of a journeyman - having recorded, in some form or other, for any number of labels including Tico, Fania, Speed and Mercury to name a few.
Louie's Grooves, to the best of my knowledge, is the first compilation that even tries to do Ramirez's work some justice. Grooves judiciously selects from a variety of Ramirez's projects which includes material from some of his solo albums but is equally stacked with composition and arrangement contributions for everyone from Jimmy Sabater (former singer with the Joe Cuba band) to percussion legend Sabu Martinez to piano great Charlie Palmieri.
The variety captures just how diverse the musical styles were under the umbrella of Latin jazz and soul. For example, the curiously-titled "Chin Chon Chow" comes from Ramirez's own Vibes Galore, a 1966 album for Alegre which showcases his slick, mambo-influenced talents on the vibes. The strong back rhythm hints at the coming boogaloo wave as well, not to mention the catchy (though however non-sensical) chorus.
One of Ramirez's greatest compositions was "Times Are Changin'" a fast, funky boogaloo recorded by vocalist Jimmy Sabeter for his Solo album on Tico. Few Latin songs of the era better spoke to the political and social turmoil of the '60s than this one; Ramirez makes that clear with lyrics that talk about, "it's time for freedom/it's time for rights," very much tapping into the Civil Rights Movement and other social change sweeping across America at the time. Musically too, "Times Are Changin'" is well-named given how the song switches up at various points, not just in interpolating the "Sunshine of Your Love" riff but also midway through when the song slides into a heavier Latin percussive bridge that rides out until the end.
