“Passport” broadcast from 12.04.06 every monday, 8-9PM on 89.1 FM WNYU

In the future I’m going to try to be posting these sooner after the fact. I been busy.

Playlist
Artist (location) — track title — album — (label):

1. Zuhura Swaleh (Zanzibar) — “Ya Zamani” — Zanzibara 2 — (Buda Musique)
2. Khun Kan Chwain (Burma) — “Naung Ywe” — Guitars Of The Golden Triangle: Folk And Pop Music Of Myanmar Vol. 2 — (Sublime Frequencies)
3. Hovanes Grigorian (Armenia) — “Por Eir Astvatz” — Erevan — (Parseghian)
4. Tim Maia (Brazil) — “Voce” — S/T — (Polydor)
5. Hugh Masekela (South Africa) — “Been Such A Long Time Gone” — I Am Not Afraid — (Blue Thumb)
6. Fairuz (Lebanon) — “Al Bosta” — Wahdon — (Zida)
7. Lord Shorty (Trinidad) — “Drum Spirits” — Endless Vibrations — (Shorty)
8. Sapo (USA) — “Ritmo Del Corazon” — S/T — (Bell)
9. Ricardo Eddy Martinez (Cuba) — “Tambo Iya” — Expreso Ritmico — (Egrem)
10. Selda (Turkey) — “Ince Ince” — Love , peace & poetry: Turkish psychedelic music — (Normal)
11. T.P. Orchestre Poly-Rythmo (Benin) — “Kokoriko” — The Kings Of Benin Urban Groove 72 – 80 — (Soundway)

Los Pasteles Verdes: Angelitos Negros, Reloj, Recuerdos De Una Noche and Te Amo Y No Soy Correspondido
Taken from the album Recuerdos De Una Noche on Gema (197?)

I don’t know how it happened. One minute I’m wilin’ out chez moi, eating luke warm lentil soup and ruminating on the finer things in life; next minute my homie Dave is on the phone: Yo, Willis…–Mumble, mumble–…to the movies…–Unitelligible–…my treat…–Ambulence Passing–…calypto…

“Sure thing!” I say. Like a fool, like a goddamn fool.

Here’s what’s wrong with Apocalypto: EVERYTHING. Plotless, pointless, exploitative, gimmicky, dull, trite, nauseating. Here’s an abbreviated list of sources that Melly Mel grossly misappropriates or outright marauds on the course of this dizzyingly uninspired warpath: The Last of The Mohicans, Midnight Cowboy (think Ratzo’s touching departure minus the touching part), Indian Jones and The Temple of Doom, The Exorcist/Shining/6th Sense (Come on, possessed children? Really?), The Princess Bride (My name is Inigo Montoya.. Jaguar Paw…whatever), Run Lola Run (minus the red-haired femme and pulsing techno–which is to say a lot of running), Night of The Living Dead (Zombie head squirts, anyone?) and Tintin in South America (No joke.)

Just. Plain. Awful. And sure, I might have guessed as much– but, as always, the hype machine worked wonders and a handful of beguiling critics tricked me into… well, hoping for the best.

All of this has a point (I think).

After the movie came to its merciful end, I returned home. Haggard. Angry. Depressed. (It’s a sorry state of global affairs, when a guy as effed-up as Mel Gibson can not only get a picture as bad as this one made, but actually trick people into buying into it.) The more I thought about it, the worse I felt. I needed to find some respite. Some comforting bastion to reaffirm my faith in life, in love, in mankind… and, most importantly, in the magic of America Del Sur, as disassociated from Mel Gibson’s Hollywood taint.

(I used to dream about Mexico. And Chile, Peru, Venezuela. Idealized visions of great lands. The music, the culture, the language… Hell, I had been thinking about taking a trip down that way sometime in the near future… And now? Now what?)

A cold hollow of bitterness had descended into my heart. How could I regain that mystical connection to the faraway equatorial lands of my dreams, that now only conjured to my mind the disturbing image of a ghastly, soused bigot on a deserted stretch of the Pacific Coast Highway?

I’ll tell you how to regain it: the compressed vocals of a sympathetic balladeer delicately crooning in his native tongue; the gentle wah’s of psychaedelic guitar emanating from a dusty P.A. in Lima, Peru circa 1972; echo, reverb, and a loping snare. That’s how.

So I set the needle running on this disc and guess what? Peace. Utter, blissful, glassy-eyed peace.

Shleu-Shleu : 3 Forces
taken from the album “Les Shleu-Shleu A New York” on Mini (197?)

Djet-X : Oh Mayeye
taken from the album The Rising Stars on Marc’s (197?)

Alix Jacques Cole Cole Band : Tessa’s Theme
taken from their self-titled album on Macaya (197?)

Continuing my Caribbean exploration, I pulled out these Hatian oldies this week. The music is very hard to describe, in part because it keeps changing throughout the track. Like Bollywood in some ways, the songs on these records tend to last way past the six-minute mark, often changing tempo and style altogether (occaisionally multiple times in one song!). The most straight-forward of these tracks is definitely 3 Forces, which sounds to my ear the most directly tied to West African music. There’s also touches of montuno and a smooth rolling calypso feel that comes from the sax. Once the groove gets going, it’s a steady swinging ride ’til the end of the tune. Don’t know what you call this style of music, but I’m loving it.

Oh Mayeye and Tessa’s Theme are more typical of other Haitian records I have from the same time period. Nasty opening funk or soul grooves which then break into this “booom – ka-boom-ka” Haitian bounce at around one minute into the track. Is this “Cadence Rampa”? Someone who knows more about Haitian funkiness, please school me. More style switches ensue, keeping my interest for the eight-minute-plus length of the jam. I’ve heard that there are some record stores out in Queens that still have a bunch of this stuff. One of these days…

“Passport” broadcast from 11.27.06, hosted by yours truly…

After producing my Monday night radio show for close to 4 years, a major technological advance has been made at the Station!. My weekly, hour-long program is now automatically recorded and archived online, so if you miss it live (cause you’re lazy or live in Australia) then you can still tune in. I’m not sure if I’ll post every week’s show right here in the crate (is that easiest?), but for now at least, listen to last week’s broadcast right here. And check the playlist- which includes Turkish Psych, Afro Funk, and Bollywood Disco among other things- RIGHT HERE.

Oh yeah, and if you’re not lazy, or don’t live too far away, you can always tune in live at 89.1 FM in NYC or online at www.wnyu.org

Ronnie & The Ramblers : Echoes Of My Mind
taken from the album “An Evening With Ronnie At Ronie’s Rebel Room” on R&RR (196?)

Andre Tanker : Swahili and Lena
taken from the album “Afro Blossom West” on Atman (196?)

Trying to bring myself back to life today with a little imaginary sun soaked escape. My nose is dripping incessantly and I swear there’s a golf ball sized mucus lump lodged in my temple. Sounds pleasant, don’t it? In the effort to provide us all with a much needed vacation, I’ve pulled out these near-lost Caribbean gems. Sadly, I know very little about either of the artists except that they are both close to un-googleable. What little info exists on the interweb is less than satisfying. I’ve been searching (to no avail) for more music and information about these guys, so if any reader out there has something to contribute, please share. I should say first that I’m not all that interested in the more traditional Carnival/Soca music that Tanker produced in his later years- that stuff just doesn’t really do it for me.

Apparently “the Grandfather of Bahamian Music”, Ronnie Butler formed his Ramblers band in ’62 and played regularly in Nassau hotels. The only other record I’ve seen from him was recorded at a different hotel a year earlier. I guess the tourist-based economy meant that hotel sponsorship provided one of the few recording opportunities. His cover version of Nilsson’s “Everybody’s Talking” (from the Midnight Cowboy soundtrack) absolutely slays me- just listen to that guitar solo! Nice chorus vocals too. Kinda ironic that this Bahamian superstar is singing about finding escape in a sunny place, the escape that Jon Voight finally found in Florida just as his beloved cohort Dustin Hoffman tragically died on his shoulder!

I was first introduced to the Trinidaian Vibist/Drummer Andre Tanker via Brooklyn’s greatest pirate radio station. It was a fierce afrobeat sounding track with an open drum break in the intro. Been searching for more Tanker ever since. I got my hands on a couple of beautiful fusion tracks that he recorded in the 70’s from this excellent Crippled Dick compilation. And then, just recently I picked up this pearl of a record. Afro Blossom West also features a fiery cover of “Wachi Wara” and a nice boogaloo called “Party In The City”. But for me, it was the powerful building progression of “Lena” and the dancefloor friendly “Swahili” that stuck out most prominently. Both are Tanker originals. If you’re not convinced by “Swahili’s” rumbling beginning, then hold out for the backbeat to come clamouring in at 2:20! Clearly, the man was doing his own thing and experimenting liberally. If and when something turns up, rest assured you’ll hear about it.

Smokey Robinson: Just My Soul Responding and Silent Partner In A Three-Way Love Affair… Plus a BONUS! Virgin Man
Taken from the albums Smokey and Pure Smokey on Motown (1973 and ’74)

If there’s one thing more impressive that an unmined soul gem by a nobody group on a podunk label, it’s an unmined soul gem by one of the most prolific R&B acts of the 20th century on perhaps the most influential label of the last, uh, millenium…

Introducing, for your delectation, Smokey Robinson and a few of his lesser known miracles.

There are so many things that slay me about Mr. Robinson, I’d be doing my fanaticism a disservice by trying to dissect them all. But here are three good reasons that you, too, should adore this man and his music:

1) No joke: sometime in the 60’s Bob Dylan called Smokey “America’s greatest living poet”… And you’re like , Uh, come again? And then you start listening–I mean really listening— to Smoke’s music and it’s like Dozier-Holland-who?

Even if the tender-hearted bard had stopped cold after penning “Tracks of My Tears” (god forbid!) I might have been sustained through many a lonesome night. But he didn’t stop; he kept right on going. In addition to masterminding a catalogue of hits for himself (and by proxy the Miracles), he also penned classics for The Temptations, Mary Wells and a handful of his other label-mates, that would ensure for Motown not only popular longevity but a true creative legitimacy that many labels of that era and of that size couldn’t have hoped to support.

2. When I was in high school in the Bay Area–perhaps still?– Smokey hosted a weekly call-in program on 98.1 on which a person so-inclined could ring up the station to discuss romance issues with none other that the love doctor himself. For clarification: once a week you could call Smokey Robinson on the telephone to consult him in regards to your relationship woes. Top that.

3. Finally. Al Green understood it. D’Angelo got it. Smokey wrote the formula: falsetto falsetto falsetto.

Both of these albums can be found for a buck or less at a flea market near you.

And now I can’t write anymore. I’m listening to these tracks on repeat and I think I might cry myself to sleep. ‘Til next time.