I don't know how I missed this- Ok I do, I got caught up with the stars and flash of a a press pass+George Clinton- but this latin groove is the most authentic stuff I've heard all evening. By authentic, I don't mean pure to form, exact adherance to recipe, an unflinching fossilization of the 'proper' tradition- quite the opposite. These cats are free, having the kind of fun that only that middleman can. They aren't famous, there is only a small but dedicated crowd present- notably the man with the cowboy hat is still shaking his stuff religiously- and it's all about late night freeform booty-scootin'.
It's the looks on their faces whilst and whenst* they play- there are gleeful wagging tongues, eyes wide open and showing the whites on par with chicken eggs, a local feel, an acknowledgement from the musicians and the crowd that this is the best music hapening anywhere in the world at just this moment. . The clave player moves his cowbell to different levels, just for effect, and the crowd eats it up. The keys player bumps up and down on his stool, acting like he is trying to escape from a powerful magnet encased in his butt. It is clearly the after-party to be at, and I'm thankful that I have found my way back to my assignment, finally relaxing after many pleasant distractions. If you are here at the festival,or just watching via web cam, look for this spot. I'll help you out- after I press the 'publish' button on this post, look around- I'l be the one waving, saying, "Come in, come here- this is the place to be."
*Everyone needs a hobby.
Saturday, June 7, 2008
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