The Perils of Internet

Twenty years ago I was a college student looking for anything to distract me from having to reading 5 books and 10 scholarly articles by next Tuesday. Back then, the internet was so new. Everything was so interesting. Every page linked to easily to the next.

Since then not much has changed. At this very moment I am supposed to be archiving some blogs posts for work, which means I am fishing around in the blog world, which means, as you can see, I am only half working.

Here are a three of my favorite time-killers. The first two are oldies but goodies, and, sadly, still timely. The third is just plain silly.

muslimswearingthings.tumblr.com

peppersprayingcop.tumblr.com

animalstalkinginallcaps.tumblr.com
(mostly stupidly obscene, but there are some real gems)

Dance parties, ducks and Michael Jackson

I took Nayáhuari to a dance party this weekend. Not a post-church mariachi, sonidero and packs of kids running between the tablecloths kind of party, but a good old urban house party with 1 child (mine), 90 adults, chips, alcohol, and a DJ in the living room. Considering that my toddler’s bedtime is midnight anyway, she fared rather well, athough she was more interested in the snacks and less enthused by the unfamiliar 80’s and 90’s hip-hop/R&B soundtrack that had the crowd of thirty-somethings strutting all over the dance floor.

Not surprisingly, Nayáhuari has also shown indifference to my favorite Pocoyó episode. Now for all you out there with pequeñitas y pequeñitos, if you haven’t already found Pocoyó, you should check him out. He’s a little blue cartoon character who—along with the help of a pink elephant (surely a nod to Dumbo’s drunken dream), a duck, a blue bird, and a neurotically happy yellow worm—helps small children explore real-life challenges, such as saying good-bye to someone you love and fessing up when you’ve broken someone else’s toy. Each episode comes with it’s life lesson, but in an effort to reach out to the parent set, they are also just plain funny.

Here is one of my favorite Pocoyó episodes, with Pato and Pocoyó battling on the dance floor, and Ely, the pink elephant, as DJ.



Pato’s performance of Michael Jackson and Pocoyó’s arena rock number (with an octopus on his head!) has me clicking the replay icon over and over. But after one viewing, Nayáhauri was ready to move on to a different episode. Reminds me of how at the party last Friday, she was not moved to dance to Prince or the Jackson Five but instead shouted to me, “¡No tanto fuerte la música, que los árboles están dormidos!”

P.S You can also find Pocoyó on YouTube in English, and in a Latin American edition, but on this rare occasion I assert that the Spaniards are doing it better.

Loving Lupe (Fiasco)

Spending the holidays with my nephews meant I also got to spend some qt with Lupe.






Here’s a great fan video for “And He Gets the Girl”

Music for the (little) people

Since moving to New York I have been on the hunt for music shows to take my kid too. Carnegie Hall has some wonderful acts, but it’s not exactly an appropriate atmosphere for an active two and a half year old. Then there's the language dilemma. Finding good kids’ music is tough, and finding it in Spanish is even tougher.

One day I picked up a flyer at the public library announcing “Fati & Charles: Enjoy kids music from Latin America.” The design was was simple: all text, no image. With an introduction like that it was going to be pretty hit or miss. However, we didn’t have anything else to do that Friday, so Nayáhuari and I headed out in the rain and arrived a few minutes late only to find our humble neighborhood library transformed something like a kids rock arena. Upstairs in the only open space in the tiny building around 30 Jewish and Chinese kids were jumping and singing at the top of their lungs – in Spanish.

Fati and Charles performing in Sunset Park, Brooklyn.

A Fati and Charles show lasts about an hour and consists of the pair teaching movements to accompany their original songs. During the show the kids dance with hats on their heads and with huge animal shaped sponges in their hands. They throw the props up in the air and then pick them up again, singing “equipo chócalo cinco” and giving high-fives all around. They even stage a protest with picket signs expressing their desire to do it "SOLO." This video does not at all do justice to the infectious collective energy of their live shows (and it's missing the picket signs) but it is one of Nayáhuari’s favorite tracks from their album El Baile del Sombrero.

Fati & Charles wrote a grant to do a series of shows in the public libraries. None of this capitalizing on the wealthy New Yorker market and offering music in Spanish for tots at $300 per semester in rich white neighborhoods. No. Fati & Charles play in the festivals & library circuit—open, public spaces. And as long as they are doing that, their music remains accessible to the little people, which is exactly how music should be.

Amor y Música

Mothering with songs of protest

Ever since I had a child, my daughter has become the calibrator for my interaction with music. Not only have I become a homebody, missing show after fabulous show (Bunbury, Calamaro, Enanitos + Hombres G! Ouch!), I would rather give in to listening to the music she wants than contend with her toddler stubbornness/potential tantrums just to listen to HDS Would Tour 2007 for the three millionth time, let alone listen to a new recording that I may or may not even like.

Before she could talk, Nayáhuari indicated if she wanted more of something with an inflected “Mmm?” She used it for everything – tortillas, games, and of course music. She could nominate songs for our “Rolas Favoritas de la Chunk” playlist by simply giving the “Mmm?” seal of approval when a song ended. However, if she said this in the middle of a song, it was her cue that track didn’t make the cut, and I had to hit the fwd button to keep her from going into an “Mmm? Mmm? MMMMM!” rampage.

Early on I was looking for songs in Spanish she might like. De Colores seemed to be a hit when I sang it to her, so I dug up the old Joan Baez recording of it that another hippie Chicana—my mom—used to listen to on her Gracias a La Vida LP. Baez’s arrangement got an instant “Mmm?” seal of approval from Nayáhuari and was soon transferred to our “Favoritas” playlist. One day, in an attempt to expand my child’s repertoire, I let the Gracias a La Vida album play in its entirety. Most songs were met with an instant “Mmm?”, indicating that my toddler was not interested in letting the particular track finish. But towards the end of the album, my then one and half year old child let this song go on uninterrupted.



It seems appropriate that my child would bring me back to the songs of my own childhood. This album, which preceded Linda Ronstadt’s Canciones de Mi Padre by ten years, was Baez’s tribute to her Latino roots and among my earliest exposure to the protest music of the era. Joan Baez recorded this album for the people of Chile, then living under Pinochet’s ruthless dictatorship, and I remember the distinct feelings of hope and freedom it inspired in me, even at the tender ages of 3, 4, 5, and 6 years old, which were the years when we still had an LP player in our living room, and the scratchy note songs like Gracias a La Vida, Cucurúcucu Paloma, Te Recuerdo Amanda, and De Colores left their stamp in my mind and my imagination. Maybe it was the image of Joan raising a hand towards the heavens framed by the bright purple of album’ cover. Whatever the inspiration, the seeds to my future activism were there, in the music that moved me even before I could understand the words (I grew up speaking English and didn’t become bilingual until much later in life).

These days, Nayáhuari knows the words to De Colores. She has a blast imitating Magaby’s Pequeños Gigantes performance of Cucurúcucu Paloma, and she still wants to hear Las Madres Cansadas twenty times in a row. My hope is that these songs will also make a place for themselves in her heart and in her mind and that their presence in her life will guide her—on whatever path she chooses—to walk with a passion for justice, with optimism, and with hope.

For lyrics to the English version Las Madres Cansadas, see:
http://www.joanbaez.com/Lyrics/wearymothers.html

Mi gotita de rocío (Gracias Silvio, Parte 3)

Gracias Silvio, por tu música alentadora y revolucionaria. Gracias por ser el motivo de una reunión prendida de latinoamericanos izquierdistas. Gracias por los gritos y las lágrimas que compartimos aquella noche. Y sobre todo en este momento te doy gracias por esta linda canción, con la cual duermo mi bebé todas las noches. (Aquí se les ofrezco en su versión original junta con un cover que me gusta.)


La gota de rocío, Silvio Rodríguez


La gota de rocío, D'nigma

Nayáhuari a cumplir su primer añito

Alex Lora y Arizona

Just got through watching Univisión’s debate about immigration laws. It was mostly a lot of people talking mierda about politicians and politicians talking mierda about each other. Use-less. Bor-ing.

I find much more engaging this little rola by El Tri. On certain topics, no one can say it like Alex Lora.



El Tri -- El Muro

"'hora sí ya me voy ahí nos vemos / now I am going, see you later
ahí les dejo mi reputación / I’m leaving you my reputation
para que hagan pedazos con ella / for you all to break into pieces
mientras yo les canto esta cancion / as I sing you this song
el muro de la vergüenza / the wall of shame
por el arco del triunfo / over the arc of triumph
me lo voy a pasar / I’ll pass
y ya cuando esté en el otro lado / and when I’m on the other side
en su muro me voy a orinar / I am going to take a piss on their wall
en su muro me voy a surrar / I am going to take a shit on their wall
y con su muro me voy a limpiar / and I’m gonna wipe myself on their wall"

I can only imagine what Lora would have to say about Arizona’s latest move towards becoming a police state. The beautiful thing is witnessing all the acts of resistance that have been springing up around the country against SB 1070. The Phoenix Suns got new jerseys to play in. Even city governments have responded to the call to divest from the state. And on May 29, people from all over the nation will be converging on Arizona – just as the Freedom Riders did in the South – to stand in solidarity with the resistance movement there.

Día de las Madres parte II

She has been featured time and again on this blog, but seriously, it is appropriate for me to give big shout outs to the new mother-to-be Julieta Venegas because it is because of her that I am a mother now. For those who don’t know the story, back when this blog first started I happened to be in New York for Julieta's free concert in Central Park. Standing next to me at the show was a cute boy. He had long-ish hair and was wearing a pair of blue beat-up Converse shoes. During the show he caught Julieta’s attention by shouting silly things at her (“¡Julieta dame trabajo! ¡Quiero trabajar contigo!”) I was hooked. The rest is herstory.


Much love, too, to my little mamas, Nayáhuari, who has been an awesome companion on this journey. May your life be blessed with creativity, wisdom, and lots of fans.


Julieta @ the Fox Theater in Oakland, CA, 5 de mayo 2010
(video courtesy of angram0)

Deporten a la migra

Seriously, don’t you think it’s about time? Nayáhuari thinks so...

marcha 1o de mayo, San Francisco, 2010

Bien

It’s already been talked about on in both English and Spanish, but there is something that hasn’t yet been said about Julieta Venegas’ new video “Bien o Mal.” And that is that the video is oh-so-lesbo-erotic. Come on. Women in an (almost) all female world passionately devour flowers, lift their skirts for each other, and hover at Julieta’s side as if under a spell. All this, mind you, preceded by a reference to “chicas extrañas.” Can strange girls marry? Have kids? Be happy? How many straight parents have asked these same questions about their own niñas extrañas?



By the way, many a YouTube commentator has expressed disgust over the fart-butterflies. I'd suggest that their disgust is really a thinly masked discomfort at seeing a representation of female sensuality which exists outside of the male gaze. And in a music video no less! Once again Julieta reminds us that you don’t have to act like a loba to cause a buzz in the pop world. Love and patriarchy are separable after all.

Liberation Lullaby

In trying to dig up some songs I could learn to sing to my daughter, I came across this in my collection. The video features images of cute chiapaneco babies, but the recording has better sound and pleasing harmonies.


Oscar Chavez: Duérmete niño bonito




Here are a few verses:

Duérmete niño bonito / Sleep pretty little boy
Duérmete chiapaniquito/ Sleep little Chiapan
Duérmete mi niño enfermo / Sleep my sick child
Duérmete mi niño eterno / Sleep my eternal child
Que hasta aquí no entra el gobierno / For here the government does not enter

…

Duérmete niña bontia / Sleep pretty little girl
Duérmete chiquiquitita / Sleep tiny little one
Duérmete la lluvia empapa / Sleep for the rain is wetting
Duérmete bajo mi capa / Sleep beneath my cloak
Que hasta aquí no llega el papa / For here the pope does not arrive

…

Duérmete niñita bella / Sleep beautiful little girl
Duérmete mi linda estrella / Sleep my pretty star
Duérmete sierra a la vista / Sleep, there are mountains within view
Duérmete mi niña lista / Sleep my smart girl
Que te arrula un zapatista / For a Zapatista sings you to sleep

Behind the scenes with MJ and a kick-ass femme guitarist

I’m a sucker for DVD extras so when I found myself browsing the shelves at the movie store I fell right towards the recently released This Is It documentary of Michael Jackson’s last concert rehearsals. I am not an MJ fan per se, but having grown up in the 80’s and 90’s, I couldn’t help but get a little caught up in the MJ craze in the months following his death.

But if the film was a treat to watch (which it was) is wasn’t because I needed to know any more about Michael Jackson but because the entire film is a glimpse behind-the-scenes of the production of what was to be a spectacular show. This Is It is basically a whole DVD of DVD extras, plus the actual extras, which for This Is It are the behind-the-scenes of the behind-the-scenes that is the feature. As a former performer, I was swept up watching the artists in action—dancers and vocalists, videographers and costume designers, producers, directors, musicians and of course, Jackson himself.

The best part, though, was discovering this 24-yr-old guitar “prodigy” as she has been called, who was to be the lead guitarist for the show. For those who haven’t already done so, meet Orianthi.

Mean Things

Note: it’s not worth it to be a culture vulture. Back in October, James Aurthur Ray, a self-help “expert” (he appeared in the video The Secret) led a faux sweat lodge ceremony that killed 3 people. He was charged yesterday with manslaughter. According to reports, the lodge was covered with plastic (toxic when heated!), and Ray would not let some people out of the lodge when they requested. He also charged participants thousands of dollars for the retreat of which the lodge was a part. Anyone who has been to a Native-led sweat lodge ceremony knows this: the lodge is covered with blankets if hides are unavailable. If you need out, all you have to do is ask. And in a Native sweat lodge you are never charged at the door.

On the topic of racism and tragedy, here is Diné (Navajo) band Blackfire performing a nice cover of Woody Guthrie.

Never too late: Felipe Staiti’s solo album rocks

With a new album recently out from Amandititita and new albums to be released by Julieta Venegas and Enrique Bunbury this spring, La Cumbaimbera takes this opportunity to hop back on the blog and spotlight Felipe Staiti’s solo album, which was released last September.

Most know Staiti as the guitarist from Los Enanitos Verdes. No, Felipe has not deflected from Los Enanitos (they did, however, recently swap out Daniel Piccolo, the original baterista, for new dummer Jota Morelli). During the Enanitos’ current 4-year recording hiatus, Staiti recorded his solo project titled after his band Felipe Staiti Trio. The trio, as it turns out, is more of a quartet, as it features Felipe guitar and vocals, Felipe’s long-time friend Gerardo Lucero on bass, and both of Felipe’s sons – Natalio on drums and Juan Pablo as the “invitado” that appears to have a regular role as rhythm guitarist in the band.

The album’s songs are mostly instrumental, with Felipe performing vocals on the three tracks with lyrics. Some songs were recorded years ago while others are new. And while some, like the single “Buenos Días” which aired on Argentine radio, display the familiar melodic pop-rock flavor of Los Enanitos, others, such as the aptly titled “Toro Salvaje” offer a peek at the heavy rocker that Felipe is at heart. Also indicative of Felipe’s personal gustos, is the visual aesthetic of the video for the track “Leviatán.” (Enanitos fans may recall the spooky green lady that was featured as cover art for Néctar).



Not only is Felipe one of the best guitarists in Latin America, he is, as far as I can tell, simply a great guy. He still lives in the city he was raised in. He has responded personally to the MySpae messages I have sent him (yes, I confess – but look how it turned out!). And in between Los Enanitos’ international tours, Felipe passes the time by hopping on stage at venues in his hometown of Mendoza, Argentina and rocking out with his sons. If only all famous artists had his ability to remain true to the music, their family, their roots, and their fans.

Muertos

It's Nov 2 again. Time to remember the grandparents, light some candles, and enjoy a piece of dead bread (pan de muertos). All of this is done best, of course, with some musical accompaniment...


__
la dibaólica:

a few months ago, se murió mario benedetti. he was a beloved uruguayan poet & leftist militant, whose work is still recited from memory all over the americas. here he is with his camarada, musician daniel viglietti, performing "refranivocos" as viglietti plays "the devil in paradise" by violeta parra. ¡viva benedetti!


refranivocos / el diablo en el paraíso: mario benedetti / daniel viglietti

___
La Cumbiambera:

The original plan for this post was to honor people who have in the last year gone on to the spirit world. Blame it on the baby, but La Cumbiambera just couldn’t get focused. So I went back to an old favorite – Quetzal – and this song “Limones Agrios,” which was composed after the passing of two of the band members’ grandfather. The song is dear to my heart because the old man lived in Oxnard, CA, which is just down the road from where my grandparents live, and because the song's central metaphor is the lemon tree. The area surrounding Oxnard is home to a huge agricultural industry, and in particular citrus orchards, so the metaphor is not random. Neither is my attachment to it as my family, beginning with my great-grandparents, has worked for many generations as laborers in the very orchards referred to in this song. Today I remember those who work the land. La tierra pertenece a quien la trabaja.


Limones Agrios: Quetzal

Más Allá

This post has been plagued by technical difficulties, so by now it might be old news that last Wednesday evening a man threatened to jump from the Crown Hotel on Valencia Street in S.F. In response, the police halted all foot and vehicular traffic along block between 16th & 17th Street on Valencia, thereby causing people to pool at the street corners to see if there was anything to see.

I was one of the passersby who stared up at the haunting skyline as the man sat at the edge, hunched over, legs dangling, with the October breeze as the only buffer between himself and the sidewalk that lay five stories below. Meanwhile, people stared. And took pictures. And called their friends. And said horrible things. As someone who has stood on that edge before, I was overcome with immense sadness and was reminded of a time when I was comforted by this song:


"Más Allá", La Ley

"Tengo ganas de brillar / I want to shine

y mi luz esta apagada / but my light has gone out

no tenía a nadie a quien culpar / I didn’t haven anyone to blame

y nadie culpabilizaba / and nobody blamed me

Hay algo más o algo menos / There is something more or something less

me da igual si mas o menos / I don’t care whether it’s more or less

dejé morir, dejé vivir / I’ve stopped living, I’ve stopped dying

Estoy hundiéndome en la oscuridad del mar / I am drowning in the darkness of the sea

aquí no hay aire pero al fin podré llegar / There’s no air here but I will finally arrive

Más allá …/ Beyond…"

"Más Allá" was written after La Ley's lead singer Beto Cuevas was informed of a young fan who took her life supposedly because she was obsessed with Cuevas and could not get close to him. I say “supposedly” because the purported reason a person chooses to end her life is never the real reason. The decision to commit suicide cannot be explained by the severity of a person’s particular set of challenges, but rather how that person’s brain reacts to the stresses in her life. This is why some people see their entire families get murdered during war and some of these people choose to keep on living. And why a person living a comparatively privileged life might go through a bad break-up and choose to kill herself then. I have done a lot of reading on this subject, have tried vairous types of therapies, have spoken intimately about this subject to many depressed and non-depressed people, and as far as I can tell, the bottom line is this: some of us are blessed with brains that have stable chemical balances. Others of us are not so lucky.

P.S. For insight on this topic, I recommend “The Mood Cure” by Julia Ross. Whether you are struggling with your own depression or have been impacted by the inexplicable behavior of someone you love, Julia Ross' easy to understand explanations of brain chemistry and its effects on mood shifts is enlightening.

Just Because

Just because I’ve been listening to a lot of Andrés Calamaro lately.

Just because this song makes me happy.

Just because this video features viejitos and kids of color hanging out on city streets.

Just because this video features musicians taking over the sidewalk.

Just because.

Andrés Calamaro, Corazón en Venta

"Feliz navidad sangrienta..."

Racist Halloween

I don’t even know what to say about this:

Unfortunately, This "illegal alien [sic] costume" is only the beginning. Amazon also has a host of other racist costumes for sale. Thanks to the good work of CHIRLA (Coalition for Humane Immigrant Rights of Los Angeles), Target has pulled the above item from its on-line store (yay!), but a whole slew of other websites are still selling it. The UFW has an e-mail campaign to get the costume pulled from Walgreens, Toys R Us, and Amazon (although internet rumors have it that Toys R Us has just pulled the item, too).

An even funner way to join the campaign is to go to one of the following sites and submit a customer review that reads something along the lines of “THIS PRODUCT IS A RACIST PIECE OF SHIT.”

amazon.com

buycostumes.com

If you need inspiration, you can read the mierda in support of the costume here.

Huichol Musical / Feliz Día de la Raza

Meet (if you haven’t already) Huichol Muscial, five chamacos from Nayarit who play completely unplugged music using traditional Huichol instrumentation. Y hasta cantan en su idioma (see YouTube for the “Cusinela” video, which I could not find an embedding code for). In the interview below, HM gives props to las cusinelas – las mujeres - for the work that they do. And in the new video – “Que Feo Se Siente” - they hold it down for life on the rancho.






Que feo se siente, / How bad it feels

Ya se está secando el rancho, / The rancho is drying up
Las vacas ya no dan leche / The cows have no more milk
Las gallinas no dan huevos / The chickens don’t lay anymore eggs
No hay chamba para la gente. / There is not work for the people

Que feo se siente, que feo se siente / How bad it feels, how bad it feels

Antes llenabas la traj / Before you could fill the trailer
Con maíz y con frijol / With corn and beans
Ahora está llena de olotes / Now it’s full of corn cobs
Fue lo que la milpa dio / That’s all that the cornfield gave…


If you haven’t done so already today, take a moment to honor your ancestors and commit at least one good anti-colonial act of resistance.

Love for my hometown

Anyone who is from a valley town knows that it’s not very often that something great happens there. Not to hate on my hometown, but let’s face it, the myraid of good things that happen in Sacramento cannot stack up to the great things that happen elsewhere. After all, Sacramento is basically on the map so Arnold Schwarzenegger's staff can have a place to call home, which means that Sac is also home to lots and lots of people employed by the state of California, which means that it’s a comfortable place for liberals but that folks with varying degrees of radical politics flee to the Bay Area for sanctuary everyday. Not that I think this is the best course of action for the good of my town, but that’s how it is.

But enough on mediocrity. Here’s the great news: Panteón Rococco is on tour right now, and while here in the Bay Area we will have the pleasure of partying to "La Carencia" after the May 1 march in S.F. (see below), Sacramento will have the pleasure of partying with Panteón the day before…with La Plebe as the opening band! Not only is La Plebe good musically, they’re good politically, and both their music and their politics will be a perfect warm-up for Panteón’s show—and we all know such chemistry is not always the case with opening acts. So, Sac folks, if you want to get your revolutionary mosh on with two great bands on the eve of International Worker’s Day, show up to La Tropicana on April 30.