Consequently
the next few days passed in a blur of music, shopping, clubbing, eating
fantastic food, and sleep deprivation offset by rocket fuel strength coffee.
Highlights included DJing at Turntables on the Hudson, checking Nico and
Norman Jay out at a space age club called Cielo, picking up an SLR digital
camera for $500 (loving those exchange rates), morroccan brunch, and buying
calypso and latin at A1 records.
 The other
highlight was a taste of things to come, and my introduction to Puerto
Rican musical culture. Nico was in the midst of working on a new uptempo
track with a heavy latin beat. I happened to be there the day he brought
in the Puerto Rican singer Sammy Ayala in to lay down the vocal tracks.
Sammy is in his mid-seventies but cuts an impressive figure, tall and
stylish in suit and turtleneck pullover! Like Compay Segundo, in the Buena
Vista Social Club, I suspect Sammy will still be charming the ladies well
into his nineties. Experienced pro that he is, Sammy nails most vocal
sections in one to two takes, harmonising over himself. As he was listening
to music through headphones whilst singing, we were in the unusual position
of hearing nothing but the voice with no backing. His vocals are pretty
rough, somewhere between a growl  and a bark from the back of the throat.
I was told later in Puerto Rico by someone that knew Sammy that this is
quite typical of the classical Puerto Rican sound: perhaps the result
of a lifetime's drinking of rum! Like growling old Mississippi blues men
it's not pretty but it's soulful!
I don't recall
quite how, but we ended up staying up very late the night before we left
for Puerto Rico which left a mad dash to JFK in the early morning. The
temperature had dropped markedly and was just above freezing. Two or three
hours later we were descending over the sea to San Juan, the first city
of Puerto Rico with rough 1.6 million inhabitants. Customs and immigration
in Puerto Rico from the States is a breeze as Puerto Rico is a part of
the US commonwealth, and shares the dollar and many other factors of US
life. The first thing that hits as you leave the airport is the heat!
It was only 11am and already a heavy humid 28 degrees or so. We hopped
into a taxi and quickly crossed the whole city onto the island on which
the ancient fortress of old San Juan sits. There's actually a link with
Plymouth here as Plymouth's very own Sir
Francis Drake, (who was little more than the Queen's personal pirate)
attacked the fortress in 1595 but was repelled. Three years later the
Duke of Cumberland did take the fort but have to leave after six weeks
due to an outbreak of dysentery (a
not uncommon problem for Brits in the Caribbean to this day.)
Inside
the massive walls lies one of the architectural jewels of the Caribbean.
Old San Juan is a complex of narrow cobbled streets, and beautifully restored,
brightly coloured Spanish colonial buildings with wrought iron and wooden
balconies. Our home for the next week was going to be Calle San Sebastian
along the ridge of the island. We headed straight up to the rooftop terrace
which offered up great views of the rooftops of Old San Juan, the Bacardi
factory across the bay and the street below us, Up and down the street
there was a buzz of activity. Vans were offloading crates and crates of
drinks; Medalla (the local beer), Corona, Red Bull (how do they manage
to be at every party worldwide?), an d numerous brands of local rum were
being brought in and wheeled into bars and restaurants. Banners advertising
drinks were going up everywhere and brand new fridges rolled in on the
backs of trucks. There was a palpable 'calm before the storm' atmosphere.
People were tense and edgy. 'First time here?' someone asked. Then a sharp
intake of breath, 'You wait, wait till you see this!'
Our host
was the very hospitable Pablo from Candela Recordings. Pablo is a well-respected
local businessman who in addition to owning two bars and a restaurant,
somehow finds time to run a record label. Candela Recordings have become
something of a portal for a number of European and US producers to come
to Puerto Rico and get involved with Puerto Rican music. With the on-going
interest in latino rhythms and themes in club music over the last few
years, many have visited and Candela has played host to Quantic, Bugz
in the Attic, Louis Vega, Joe Clausell, Jeremy Ellis, John Arnold, Boozou
Bajou, Gerardo Frisina, Osunlade, Fauna Flash, Bastard Jazz, Bobbito,
Rich Medina, and Truth and Soul, not to mention of course Nicodemus although
he's there so often he's virtually a resident. Chatting to locals, people
seem proud that their culture is being represented on a worldwide stage.
Scratch below
the surface though and there is sometimes an undercurrent of resentment
about the varying degrees off respect being shown to the music. Whilst
some producers are really spending time out there studying the music and
producing respectfully updated modernisedâ renditions of traditional Puerto
Rican music, others are perceived to be simply turning up to lay down
a vaguely latin sounding vocal over a house track that has nothing else
latin about it! The concern is that it waters down what 'latin' means
until simply having a Spanish vocal or a set of maracas is enough to call
something latin! Whilst they have a point, it seems a hollow one when
you consider the far more corrosive effect that Reggaeton is having on
traditional music in the whole of Latin America. (More on that later.)
The
first day and a half gave me the opportunity to get to know the area, and
to get to know the fabulous Zeb. Half Italian, half gypsy, Zeb loves to
talk and does so pretty much from dawn till dusk, and why not: there's so
much to talk about. George Bush, barracudas, bad omelettes, whatever. What's
also inspiring to watch is the random selection of conversational partners,
pretty much anyone that crosses his path actually, from street traders,
passing junkies, tourists or policemen. Each is a source of new ideas and
a potential sounding board for Zeb's. The only drawback is it makes it difficult
to get anywhere fast! Zeb also happens to be one of the best Oud players
in the US (probably one of the only ones in fact) and has just released
his first solo LP of Arabic and north African flavoured dub, 'Stop the Earth
I Want to Get Off' on Wonderwheel Recordings. For the uninitiated the Oud
is a large round backed fretless Arabic lute. Zeb lovingly brought his  Oud
down to Puerto Rico on the plane refusing even to let the taxi driver carry
it! Late at night when everyone else is sleeping and there is no one left
to talk to, we are treated to haunting Arabic melodies drifting through
shuttered windows and down tiled hallways of the old colonial building we
are in.
On the second
morning, we all wake early to the sound of rattling percussion and brass,
sounding like a New Orleans marching band playing latin. I rush to the
balcony overlooking the street expecting a big band but it's only six
guys making an unbelievable amount of noise on the empty cobbled street.
Nico is already there and smiling 'it's started!'.
Thoughout
the day the streets start to fill with stalls selling art, jewelry and
crafts, and gradually the volume of people in the streets starts to swell.
Around Old San Juan there are several stages of varying size in the plazas
belting out live music. There is a lot of straight up New York style salsa
off the stages but a healthy dose of the local specialities, bomba and
plena as well. Both have strong links to the West-African music of the
original slave populations of Puerto Rico. Plena is fast compared to salsa
in 2/4 timing typically consisting of call and answer lyrics between a
lead singer and a couple of backing singers, with brass backing and percussion
led by hand held Panderos (like a tambourine without the jingly bits)
of various sizes. For this reason it's ideal for playing in the street
as it needs no amplification, utilising the crowd for the call and answer
lyrics. Bomba is harder to find as it's more of an event, involving musicians,
singers and most importantly dancers, as an interplay between the dancers and the percussionists is an essential component.
We
took it easy in the evening of the first night to prepare for DJing that
night in the Candela Bar starting at midnight. On advice we got there
relatively early to get through the crowds with our gear and headed up
to the balcony at Candela to see what was going on. The entire street
was lit up with a riot of colour and a milling crowd of Puerto Ricans
or Boriquens as they prefer to call themselves. Plena bands forced their
way through the crowd banging out hard and fast afrocuban percussion breaks
whilst lead vocalists sang lines through megaphones for the crowds to
answer to. Every kind of afro-latin beat is covered and at times the percussionists
launch into full on Brazilian batucada. Everyone was drinking and singing,
diving in and out of  bars and generally having a great time. Foam machines
fired off balconies and further down the street the ubiquitous sound of
Reggaeton soundsystems drowned out all else in their path.
Whilst it
was heartening to see the enthusiasm with which the younger Boriquens
joined in with the mobile plena acts there was no doubt that Reggaeton
has taken over as the music of the young and I find that sad. Iâm sure
there are some out there who embrace it as the modern sound of latin America
but I can't see the attraction. For me it represents the globalisation
of hip-hop culture with all its misguided aspiration, glorification of
attitude before talent, and bling, not to mention mindless machismo. It's
essentially a fusion between ragga and latin with hip hop values thrown
in, and anyone who has been anywhere near latin America will be all too
familiar with itâs monotonous chugging beats. The Caribbean represents
one of the richest musical melting pots ever to have come into being,
albeit through the clash of civilisations and the slave trade. The subtleties
of calypso, bomba, plena, danza, son, rhumba, mambo, pachanga, cumbia,
forro, p orro, merengue, cha cha, samba, conga, montuno and bolero are
all being swept aside by the bland pop that is Reggaeton. I'm glad to
know there are producers like Nicodemus, Quantic and the Candela Allstars
who are working to bring the subtler elements of latin music back into
the mainstream.
Regardless
of that though, for anyone that loves latin music the Fiesta de Calle
San Sebastian is a great way to immerse yourself in great music in a party
atmosphere, beautiful surroundings and relative safety. The party continues
for an exhausting four days and nights. During the days there is very
much a family atmosphere with the older Boriquens out in force, shopping
and enjoying the music. At night the young take over. By the third night
the party was reaching fever pitch, it was barely possible to walk down
Calle San Sebastian it was so packed. One thing that occurred to me though
was that despite the fact that everyone was drinking heavily I didn't
see a single fight or any kind of trouble. The atmosphere is one of complete
chaotic abandon but at least itâs happy abandon. Compare that to your
average weekend night in any city in Britain and you have to wonder whatâs
wrong with the British. Granted there was a heavy police presence on the
streets but I found the Puerto Rican police to look much scarier than
they really are. Coming from a very macho culture the police rule the
roost in terms of macho presence. With tightly fitted starched uniforms
in military green, shades, pistols on hips and some very large motorbikes
they look like they should definitely not be messed with. They are out
there to be seen and noticed and they rarely go anywhere without their
lights flashing. Nevertheless, we saw some attending to a young man who
had obviously drunk too much by getting him a slice of pizza and a cold
cloth to mop his forehead. Quite touching really!
After
the third night in a row ending at approximately 5am and being woken at
10am by the sound of more street bands I had reached breaking point. I
escaped from the  city for a couple of days in a hirecar with two newfound
American friends and got a ferry out to the nearby 'desert' island of
Culebra to lie on the beach, snorkel and sleep. Culebra is a tiny island
that takes about 15 minutes to cross in one of the few battered taxis.
It's a quiet sleepy place with frigate birds wheeling high above and greyish
pelicans patrolling its immaculate beaches. It has probably changed little
from the days when pirates roamed the Caribbean and it was easy to imagine
them hiding out here for a while. The contrast couldn't have been greater
to the ocean of humanity on display back in the city.
When
we returned to the city the day after the festival had finished it was like
the entire old San Juan area was suffering a collective hangover. All the
bars were shut and torn, bedraggled banners hung forlornly over the empty
street. After a couple of days digging for records in the main city I headed
off on a boat to the Dominican Republic, but that's different story entirely!
Many thanks
to Nico for the inspiration and his hospitality, Zeb for being such good
company, and Pablo for sorting us out with accommodation and inviting
us to DJ!
Griff
Links
www.wonderwheelrecordings.com
www.myspace.com/142695256 (for Zeb)
www.myspace.com/candelaallstars
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