Homegrown.

I was first inspired to start this blog when thinking about the American Sabor exhibit that I mentioned in my introductory post. I was thinking "How cool is it that all this Latino music that we think of as foreign comes from right here is the USA?"  In many cases, even the musicians themselves were born here, not, well, there. They are the children of immigrants, living out their version of the American Dream.

I proposed a regular column to one of the folks that is kind enough to publish my musings, discussing the music released by these US / Latin hybrids, but there really wasn't room for it at the time. So, I filed the idea and let it gestate over the winter.

I've since decided that, A.) I would start a blog, and B.) it would address more than just music and certainly more then Latino music. But.. to honor that original intent, can I just say the Los Lobos is one of the greatest rock bands of all time? And that this fact (that's right, I'm not calling it an opinion) is wholly attributable to the way they have stayed true to a vision of their own roots music (Mexican folkloric, American R&B) while constantly expanding outward to encompass just about every imaginable style?

Like many a punk rocker in the early 80's, I discovered Los Lobos when their first widely distributed EP " ...And a Time to Dance" came out on Slash, a label that was home several L.A. punk bands like X, the Germs, Fear, and the Blasters. To my ears, its songs were an unconnected mix of blues, early rock n' roll (they covered Richie Valens' Come on Let's Go here way before La Bamba propelled them to fame in 1987) and Mexican folk music, which I knew little about. But I loved it. If fact, I got impatient when their first full album, How Will the Wolf Survive, came out, wanting more Mexican and less rock, thinking, under my highly misguided idea of what was authentic, that's what they were supposed to do

What I didn't know at the time was that Mexican East L.A. supported a thriving Chicano rock scene that loved R&B. Mexican music was what their parents listened to. Los Lobos, L.A. born rockers all, were one of the first bands to rediscover the value of the old stuff, playing it alongside the R&B and rock that they'd been cranking out since they first picked up guitars. Their genius lies in their understanding that American R&B is every bit authentically theirs as the rancheras, corridos and norteñas that they lovingly played on their 1988 release La Pistola y El Corazón.  As creative and adventurous musicians, they grew by leaps and bounds, taking in virtually every influence they could get their hands on, because all of that belongs to them too. By the time they released their 1992 masterpiece, Kiko, their songs were a seamless blend of all these influences. Yet, in terms of identity, they've remained fundamentally the same band that released Just Another Band from East L.A.in 1978.

The indispensable box set (get the CD if you can - it's lavishly packaged and crammed with insightful commentary) El Cancionero Mas y Mas documents an incredible 25 or so years of growth, including live recordings and side projects like Los Super Seven and Latin Playboys.  I'm especially fond of the Latin Playboys tracks, avant garde soundscapes that evoke a stroll through the barrio, but all the previously unreleased live stuff acknowledges and pays tribute to a world of influences.

After over 30 years as a band, they still tour incessantly, playing everything from state fairs to prestigious concert halls and, if you're lucky, the occasional club gig. Catch 'em if you can.

Radio knows no borders.

Visiting an artist studio in Chicago's Pilsen neighborhood last fall, I was struck by a number of works featuring monarch butterflies. The artist, a Mexican immigrant who has lived in Chicago for decades, explained that the monarch was a symbol of migration that doesn't recognize borders like the one that separates Mexico from the United States. Instead, the butterfly travels back and forth freely in an annual rhythm, flourishing in the conditions that exist on both sides. I've since come to learn that the monarch butterfly is often used as a metaphor for immigrant rights struggles.

Radio, too, transcends physical borders. In the realm of popular music, radio station XERA is legend. With a million watt signal tower located just across the Rio Grande in Mexico, free from the regulations of the FCC, border radio crossed cultural boundaries and thousands of miles with an uninhibited mix of country music, blues, gospel, rock n' roll and, of course, Mexican music that could be heard as far away as South Dakota. From the 1930's all the way through the 1960's, this unregulated miscegenation of sound flaunted the law to entertain and inspire countless people, many of whom became musicians themselves.

Shortly before the studio visit described above, I took in the Smithsonian traveling exhibit American Sabor and wrote about it for Arteyvidachicago.com, a Hispanic arts website. Something that I always understood was made explicit there: There is no art, most notably music, that exists sui generis. Everything is preceded by something else, and more often than not, it was carried from one place to another through a process of migration.

The book Cuba and its Music by Ned Sublette goes backward and forward in time, starting all the way back in 760 BC and the freakin' Phoenicians to make his point that the mambo didn't just spring up out of nowhere. Similarly, another book by Sublette, The World That Made New Orleans, shows that city's cultural debt to Cuba. Growing up in Chicago, I'm quite familiar with the way the front porch blues of the Mississippi Delta made its way upriver with and became electric blues here, which further excited Brits like Eric Clapton and Mick Jagger. We know where that led. And the circle continues ever-spiraling outward...

This blog ain't a radio station, digital or otherwise, so if you're looking for an audio stream, go elsewhere. I'm writing it mostly to explore all these thoughts about migration, art (music mostly) and the societal context of both that have been rattling around in my head since community college. I'll review albums (old & new) and concerts. I might talk about last night's dinner at the taqueria around the corner, or point you at an article or video that caught my interest. Some politics might creep in here and there, but I'll try to keep that to a minimum.

Stay tuned.