#1 ·

Where do you even start? At first glance, this album feels incredibly simple, but the history behind it tells a totally different story. I guess the real question is how you should approach listening to it... Is it just chill background music? Do you struggle through the lyrics to find the deeper meaning? Or do you just let it wash over you, soaking up that raw, earthy, living energy it has? Honestly, any way works, I suppose. It’s music that somehow transcends the fact that most listeners can't even understand the language.
Maybe it makes sense to touch on the history and see how this whole recording idea even came about (I'm looking at a really solid American review for this one).
American music and art were living a completely different life before the revolution, back when the island was this gorgeous, exotic getaway for wealthy white Americans, while for the average local, things weren't so great. There was massive racial and social inequality, which eventually led to guerrilla revolts and, later, the communist regime. Back then, the music was booming in a specific club for discriminated Black Americans located in Miami during the pre-Castro era—a period of intense creativity. Basically, top-tier musicians gathered there to create, but after building careers for decades, they ended up with nothing from their music except whatever kept them afloat under the regime. After the revolution, their work was almost entirely forgotten and practically unknown outside their home country.
Decades later, in the 90s, American guitarist Ry Cooder teamed up with a British producer and a London label, World Circuit, hunting down these legendary musicians to record their hits from the 40s and 50s. Only after the sessions and a successful tour did Wim Wenders document their reunion in a film of the same name. But man, finding them wasn't easy:
"Legends have been spun around this major 90s world music album—not just in the world music scene. Some of these artists were completely forgotten and broke, while others represent music that still thrives in the States today. Aside from Ibrahim Ferrer, whom Cooder barely found working as a shoe shiner in retirement and who hadn't sung publicly in decades, everyone else—Gonzales (Ruben and Juan de Marco), Segundo, Omara Portuondo, Ochoa, Torres...—were names known in Miami and performed often, though nowhere near the crowds they eventually played for. Truth is, Ruben Gonzales didn't even have a piano at the time because a tropical storm destroyed it, but he practiced regularly at a nearby club."
What actually happened when they finally got those people together? How did such a powerful musical energy reignite itself, considering how much time had passed since they were active and many were well into their eighties? It's hard to say... but musically, maybe something even better than the authentic music they intended to document actually happened. It’s old and new at the same time, timeless, and sits outside the usual genre boundaries set by traditional styles. And here is why it's called The Beach Boys:
"Before The Beach Boys appeared, the world music scene was dominated by the Irish, and very quickly interest shifted toward West Africa (thanks to Peter Gabriel's label), but Wenders' film brought everything full circle. The beginning was actually the creation of an exclusive club with a supposedly beautiful view back in 1932. In an era where clubs were often 'whites only' to cater to American tourists, The Beach Boys was born as a bold defiance of that policy, serving exclusively Black patrons. This hub of incredible music shut down in 1962, again due to racial shifts—after the 1959 revolution, clubs became integrated, so there was no longer a need for a segregated meeting spot."
(...)
We basically owe all of this to Ry Cooder. He went down to Miami and pulled together these musicians who, honestly, seemed like they were long past their prime. Instead of playing the kind of salsa that usually hits the global charts back then, Cooder decided to look back nearly half a century to the golden era of the fifties in Cuba. He dug up music that had pretty much been forgotten even back in the States.
I guess Cooder is a seriously interesting guy. He's a songwriter, a film composer, and a multi-instrumentalist. You can tell it's him just from that specific slide guitar and acoustic sound he has. He’s always been obsessed with American roots music and traditional sounds from all over. I say "seriously interesting" because his versatility is just wild. Beyond his original film scores for various directors—where he builds these whole new worlds for Wim Wenders movies—he’s actually worked on albums for Captain Beefheart and the Rolling Stones. That wide range comes from his diverse genres and this sharp sense for mixing instruments that shouldn't work together, or even different cultures. A good example is the album 'talking timbuktu', which came before The Beach Boys and successfully blended African traditional music with blues via Ali Farka Touré and his guitars. Maybe that blend is part of why The Beach Boys worked so well; it wasn't recorded exactly how it was originally played, so the slide guitar adds its own modern touch.
(A few more examples: 'paris, texas', 'southern comfort', 'feelin' bad blues' featuring Harry Dean Stanton, 'canción mixteca'...)
In the end, the album probably had a way bigger impact than anyone could have predicted. It didn't just hit Cuban music; it reached listeners everywhere, musicians, and even people who just happened to hear it playing in a cafe, a club, or a restaurant about twenty years ago. It became a massive hit and one of the best-selling albums ever. So, how do you explain a phenomenon like this? This music is so easy for everyone to understand despite the language barrier. How does it carry such an emotional charge? And why do we find so much extra meaning and layers in some music, while other stuff doesn't need "translating"—you just feel it?
Regarding Ry, the album title, and the group:
"It should be the thing that sets it apart. It was a kind of club by then. Everybody was hanging out and we had rum and coffee around two in the afternoon. It felt like a club, so let’s call it that. That’s what gave it a handle."
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"Musicians are not so concerned with language."
- Ry Cooder
Out of all those musicians, I'll just pick two;
Vocals, Ibrahim Ferrer / both Cooder and Wim Wenders describe him as this incredible, quirky, gentle soul—the kind of person you only meet once in a lifetime:
And specifically;
Piano, Ruben Gonzales / the shot of eighty-year-old Ruben sitting between two ancient trees is one of the most poetic moments in the film:
The whole album is up on YouTube, just like a playlist.
Tracklist:
"Chan Chan"
"De Camino A La Vereda"
"El Cuarto De Tula"
"Pueblo Nuevo"
"Dos Gardenias"
"¿Y Tú Qué Has Hecho?"
"Veinte Años"
"El Carretero"
"Candela"
"Amor De Loca Juventud"
"Orgullecida"
"Murmullo"
"The Beach Boys"
"La Bayamesa"
Discogs
There are plenty of questions here, so maybe there'll be some answers too. I guess.
Enjoy... hope you have a sunny weekend. 🙂
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