“They’ve gotten me into this mess/of interpreting
Joe Arroyo’s
salsa” says jokingly
Bobby Cruz in the middle of “Pa’l Bailador”. It’s easy to understand then the feelings of the Dynamic Duo of Salsa when they make a tribute album about Joe Arroyo and his music, both from his
Fruko y sus Tesos era and his solo career: It’s like stepping inside a house that is not theirs. But surprisingly Joe’s house resembles the one that belongs to them.
I defy any
DJ to mix “Cabo E” (although disowned by Richie and Bobby because of their
Christian faith, it is still a huge hit) and “Rebelión”, especially when you discover that “Cabo E”
piano solo fits perfectly into “Rebelión” piano spot. “Tania”, with its jazzy piano arrangement it’s a no-brainer for
Mr. Cold Fingers. Rhythm patterns of the Fruko songs resemble particularly those of the “Agúzate”, “Reconstrucción” and “Viven” albums, as I said before.
Bobby Cruz doesn’t sing but smoothly croons his way along the eleven themes preceded by an electrifying introduction theme sang by none other than Joe Arroyo himself, in maybe the last complete performance recorded ever before his untimely death. Joe appears in “Rebelión” and “La Noche”, too, but Bobby takes his task with impeccable profesionalism. It’s particularly hard for any singer,
any accomplished singer, to perform properly “A Mi Dios Todo Le Debo”; however, el Durísimo achieves his soulful tribute to the Creator in a cumbia style, too.
Ricardo has a lot of respect for the original arrangements, so that they stay virtually the same, but somehow they get the Piano Ambassador’s distinctively treatment. For instance, the simple piano tune at the end of “Nadando” becomes a touching small solo and “La Noche” middle eight has a bluesy piano break. The lyrics are slightly changed when they feel it’s necessary (for example, in “Por Tí No Moriré”, “mi amor” becomes a more direct “Leonor”). And Bobby inspires his soneos, most impressively in the rap—reggaeton freestyle finale of “Yamulemau”, whose lyrics were drastically changed for a more direct homage to Joe.
It is necessary to congratulate that Colombian crew of musicians that took part in this project, originally conceived by Ley Martin, who finally overcame his regrettable shortcomings and came back to make salsa history again, as he did producing the original
Colombia All Stars, Los Titanes and Raíces, not to mention those salsa festivals he organized.
In another world, the homage should have been made
by Joe to Ricardo's and Bobby’s immortal salsa. Even this tribute was made when Joe was still alive. But if you really want to know; Joe and Fruko paid a lot of respects to them along their careers: in the huge Joe—Fruko discography you can find covers of “Ahora Vengo Yo”, “The Falling Rain”, and “Bomba en Navidad”, between others. But
as I said before, Richie and Bobby’s influence permeates Joe and Fruko’s
oeuvre. There is a decidedly obscure never-officially released Fruko y sus Tesos song called “Caifás”. If you hear it, it’s not difficult to imagine a young Joe listening to an already consecrated Bobby, teaching him how to reach those characteristically high notes of the
Puerto Rican sonero.
I highly recommend this album; there will be other Joe Arroyo tributes without a doubt, but first, this was made while the Joe was still alive, and second, it will be difficult to find another more soulful and poignant like this. Go and get it!
I got this non-pc satire from the blog International Liberty. In these SOPA days sure I can feel nervous about knocking down an entire post, but it is awesome enough to deserve the reposting and even more worth of being added some new material.
The French government announced yesterday that it has raised its terror alert level from “Run” to “Hide.” The only two higher levels in France are “Collaborate” and “Surrender.” The rise was precipitated by a recent fire that destroyed France’s white flag factory, effectively paralyzing the country’s military capability.
Nhora Valentina Muñoz is a 10-year old girl, yet she might be (outrageously) considered a “political hostage” and the payment of a ransom is even (unreasonably) expected. Why? It is not because she’s the daughter of the mayor of a small town in the northeastern part of Colombia. It is because the revolutionary armed forces of Colombia, a.k.a. farc frigging said so.
“They’ve gotten me into this mess/of interpreting Joe Arroyo’s salsa” says jokingly Bobby Cruz in the middle of “Pa’l Bailador”. It’s easy to understand then the feelings of the Dynamic Duo of Salsa when they make a tribute album about Joe Arroyo and his music, both from his Fruko y sus Tesos era and his solo career: It’s like stepping inside a house that is not theirs. But surprisingly Joe’s house resembles the one that belongs to them.
Ricardo has a lot of respect for the original arrangements, so that they stay virtually the same, but somehow they get the Piano Ambassador’s distinctively treatment. For instance, the simple piano tune at the end of “Nadando” becomes a touching small solo and “La Noche” middle eight has a bluesy piano break. The lyrics are slightly changed when they feel it’s necessary (for example, in “Por Tí No Moriré”, “mi amor” becomes a more direct “Leonor”). And Bobby inspires his soneos, most impressively in the rap—reggaeton freestyle finale of “Yamulemau”, whose lyrics were drastically changed for a more direct homage to Joe.
I highly recommend this album; there will be other Joe Arroyo tributes without a doubt, but first, this was made while the Joe was still alive, and second, it will be difficult to find another more soulful and poignant like this. Go and get it!
