1997 CD Elektra/Asylum 79478
1997 CD World Circuit/Nonesuch 79478
1998 LP Classic Compact Disc 79468
1998 CS Elektra/Asylum 79478
This album is named after a members-only club that was opened in Havana
in pre-Castro times, a period of unbelievable musical activity in Cuba.
While bandleader Desi Arnaz became a huge hit in the States, several
equally talented musicians never saw success outside their native
country, and have had nothing but their music to sustain them during
the Castro reign. Ry Cooder went to Cuba to record a musical
documentary of these performers. Many of the musicians on this album
have been playing for more than a half century, and they sing and play
with an obvious love for the material. Cooder could have recorded these
songs without paying the musicians a cent; one can imagine them jumping
up and grabbing for their instruments at the slightest opportunity,
just to play. Most of the songs are a real treasure, traversing a lot
of ground in Cuba's musical history. There's the opening tune, "Chan
Chan," a composition by 89-year-old Compay Segundo, who was a
bandleader in the '50s; the cover of the early '50s tune "De Camino a
La Verada," sung by the 72-year-old composer Ibrahim Ferrer, who
interrupted his daily walk through Havana just long enough to record;
or the amazing piano playing on "Pablo Nuevo" by 77-year-old Ruben
Gonzalez, who has a unique style that blends jazz, mambo and a certain
amount of playfulness. All of these songs were recorded live -- some of
them in the musicians' small apartments -- and the sound is incredibly
deep and rich, something that would have been lost in digital recording
and overdubbing. Cooder brought just the right amount of reverence to
this material, and it shows in his production, playing and detailed
liner notes. If you get one album of Cuban music, this should be the
one.
Someday, probably soon, Ry Cooder's 1996 recording sessions in Cuba
will be recognized as the most important musical rescue mission since
Preservation Hall opened in New Orleans. This miraculous musical event
emerged with an amiable, off-hand grace from the utter wreckage of
Cooder and World Circuit producer Nick Gold's original concept: to
record African musicians with their Cuban counterparts. Instead, the
all-Cuban sessions stewarded by Juan de Marcos Gonzalez resuscitated
the careers of an all-star cast of retirees like pianist Ruben Gonzalez
and vocalist Compay Segundo. Cooder and his guides mine a deep shaft of
pre-Revolutionary song that has its roots in guajira, or country, music
and was about as urban as you could get in the '30s and '40s. The
absolutely luminous "Chan Chan" captures the rich patina of neglected
Havana and its forgotten stars; other tracks touch on the cha cha
chá, danzón, and even some vaudeville-sounding material
that remembers a time of more open U.S./Cuban relations. Of course,
this hit has sparked a veritable cottage industry of Cuban senior
citizens' efforts: sister releases from the Afro-Cuban All Stars,
Introducing....Ruben Gonzalez, Segundo's Lo Mejor de la Vida, and
Ibrahim Ferrer's solo turn all keep the magic alive.
Mark Schwartz - Barnes & Noble
Ry Cooder's name has helped bring attention to this session, but it's
the veteran Cuban son musicians who make this album really special.
Reminiscent of Ellington in its scope and sense of hushed romanticism,
Buena Vista Social Club is that rare meld of quietude and intensity;
while the players sound laid-back, they're putting forth very alive
music, a reminder that aging doesn't mean taking to bed. Barbarito
Torres's laoud solo on "El Cuarto de Tula" is both more blinding and
more tasteful than any guitar showcase on any recent rock album; a
quote from "Stormy Weather" and some very distinct parallels to
Hawaiian styles remind us of why it's called "world music."
Rickey Wright - Amazon.com
Ry Cooders Name hat natürlich geholfen, die Aufmerksamkeit auf
diese Platte zu lenken, doch es sind die erfahrenen kubanischen
Son-Musiker, die dieses Album zu etwas Besonderem machen. In der
Themenwahl und dem Gefühl für gedämpfte Romantik
erinnert das Album an Ellington. Wir finden auf Buena Vista Social Club die seltene Verschmelzung von
Ruhe und Intensität. Die Klänge sind ganz gelassen, und die
Spieler stellen eine lebendige Musik in den Vordergrund, die uns daran
erinnert, daß man auch im Alter nicht auf Lebendigkeit verzichten
muß. Barbarito Torres' lautes Solo in "El Cuarto de Tula" ist
sowohl bewundernswerter als auch geschmackvoller als jedes
Gitarrenstück auf jedem beliebigen neueren Rock-Album. Eine
Version von "Stormy Weather" und einige sehr deutliche Parallelen zu
hawaiianischen Stilen erinnern den Hörer daran, daß dies
"World Music" ist.
Rickey Wright - Amazon.de
Der amerikanische Gitarrist Ry Cooder ist ein bescheidener,
zurückhaltender Mann. Seine Begeistung für ein Projekt, das
ihn im März 1996 nach Kuba führte, sprengt indes alle
Barrieren seiner vertrauten Introvertiertheit. "Ich habe das
Gefühl, daß ich mein Leben lang auf dieses Experiment hin
orientiert habe", schwärt der 50jährige, der die Aufnahmen
mit einigen der bekanntesten Musiker aus Castros Reich eingespielt hat.
Mit einer Begeisterung, wie sie wohl nur unter dem Himmel der
Zuckerinsel gedeiht, spielten Cooder und Co. eine Kollektion von
Balladen ein, in denen der Schmerz und die Freude der kubanischen
Kultur pulsiert. Am Piano saß ein Männchen, 77 Jahre alt,
der sein Instument schon für immer zugeklappt zu haben schien.
Rubén González heißt die Legende, die wie ein
junger Gott die Finger über die Tasten flitzen ließ - eine
göttliche Session, bei der einem die Worte fehlen... Sie
gehört zu einer dreiteiligen Reihe des World-Circuit-Labels, deren
Anfang die Afro-Cuban All Stars mit "A Toda Cuba Le Gusta" (siehe
stereoplay 6/97) machte. Die Serie komplettiert dann "introducing ...
Rubén Conzález" (CD 049, 46:01). Die Scheibe widmet sich
ganz dem Piano-Veteran. Hört man Gonzáles seine
Cha-Cha-Chas und Bossa Novas klimpern, versteht man, warum Cooder ihn
"eine kubanische Mischung aus Thelonious Monk und Felix The Cat"
nennt...
In March of 1996, journeyman musician Ry Cooder traveled with producer
Nick Gold to Havana, Cuba, to indulge themselves in a flurry of
recording activity. Originally the duo (which together had created
Talking Timbuktu, the 1995 Grammy-winning collaboration between Cooder
and Ali Farka Toure) was to bring the best Cuban musicians together
with a group of African players. The Malian musicians unexpectedly
failed to materialize, so the two promptly set to work with their Cuban
compatriots capturing the music now immortalized as the Buena Vista
Social Club, an all-star convocation of Cuban musicians with Cooder
sitting in. (While in Havana, Gold and Cooder also cut a stellar Latin
orchestra album by the Afro-Cuban Jazz All Stars, and the debut album
from 77-year old jazz pianist Ruben Gonzalez). This music is pure
delight, with soaring singers, passionately strummed guitars, and a
pulsing beat that's full of all the fire and mystery of Afro-Cuban
music. What's so delightful about Cooder's participation in Buena Vista
Social Club is how his playing never intrudes or shows off, but rather
delights in making the music, a subtle slide here or a gentle strum
there expressing warmth, love and joy through the music. Buena Vista
Social Club will be hailed as a milestone record in the world music
genre for years to come.
It makes some kind of cosmic sense that Ry Cooder – a slide
guitarist whose collaborations with Indian classical musicians and
Tex-Mex stars have yielded recordings of rare and unconventional beauty
– would wind up in Cuba. The island is one of those places where
there are few barriers between high and mass culture, and folklore
isn't something that gathers dust in museums. For a category-basher
like Cooder, it's almost heaven: Hip-hop kids know the words and music
of Beny Moré, the prototypical Cuban singer of the '50s; the
decades-old pulses of rumba and son turn up in current radio hits.
On Buena Vista Social Club, Cooder was looking for the old stuff
– storysongs handed down through generations, rhythms and
melodies that were popular before the revolution became a glimmer in
young Fidel Castro's eye. Aiming for the front-porch-casual feeling of
traditional Cuban sextets, Cooder gathered a group of active and
semiretired artists, including magical vocalists Compay Segundo and
Ibrahim Ferrer, to revisit the lovelorn ballads, patriotic hymns and
gentle son-based dance numbers heard in swank Havana lounges as far
back as the 1920s.
Though the musicians honor the general outlines of these compositions,
Cooder can't resist the impulse to stretch the traditional-folk-song
settings. His curiosity is a two-edged sword: Sometimes, like on the
stately "Chan Chan," his moaning, pitchbending lead lines enhance the
bittersweet feeling of the melody. Other times, particularly on
"Orgullecida," the Western swing-guitar ad-libs become intrusions,
dispatches from a more cluttered (and cynical) age that distract from
the world-weary testimony of the singers. But Cooder never tramples the
songs. He knows that his guitar embellishments can't do much to improve
these wistful melodies, enduring reminders that in Cuba, the wisdom of
the ages still counts for something.
Spin (9/99, p.156) - Ranked #71 in Spin Magazine's "90 Greatest Albums of the '90s."
Village Voice (2/24/98) - Ranked #21 in the Village Voice's 1997 Pazz & Jop Critics' Poll.
Q Magazine (1/98, p.112) - Included in Q Magazine's "50 Best Albums of 1997."
Rolling Stone (9/18/97, p.104) - 3.5 Stars (out of 5) - "...revisit[s]
the lovelorn ballads, patriotic hymns and gentle son-based dance
numbers heard in swank Havana lounges as far back as the
1920s....enduring reminders that in Cuba, the wisdom of the ages still
counts for something."
Vibe (11/97, p.152) - "...The beguiling fusion of Cooder's twangy slide
guitar with the danzon and other, conga-tinged Afro-Hispanic
rhythms...makes for an exciting multicultural marriage..."
Entertainment Weekly (10/03/97, p.85) - "...The rhythms vary, but the
sound is gentle yet flamboyant throughout. It brims with warmth." -
Rating: B+