The End is Near: Get it While the Getting’s Good…

It had to happen sooner or later, of course, that the summer would end, and that life would resume its typical humdrum course of ‘normalcy,’ as if summer were more of a carnival show than a respite, more of a vocation than a vacation, since huge sums are made and squandered in the business end of summer—traveling, resting, relaxing, recreating, and procreating, or working at it, anyway. 

Kusun Ensemble and Quetzal rock Pasadena by Starlight; Son Mayor and Hawaiian Music coming to McArthur Park in LA

Oh, I could almost fall in love with Pasadena. It’s so clean, and neat, and quiet, a microcosm of America, and I don’t McCain’s America either. I mean Obama’s, liberal and optimistic and forward-thinking. Part of that beauty is its multi-cultural background of course, percentages of Anglos, Latinos, Blacks, and Asians almost identical to those of California as a whole, coming together in one big mixed neighborhood. While this may not sound much different from LA proper, the difference is in the details- the back streets that don’t reek of piss, a city center that is well-planned and coordinated, and no happy campers rounding up the shopping carts in a circle to ward off the elements of the night. As my Thai wife of three months’ US residence puts it, “it’s another world.” And it’s only an hour and a $5 day pass by metro line from Hollywood. Celebrate the bucolic!

There’s no better place to experience this harmony than the summer concert series at Levitt Pavilion in Memorial Park. Starting with last week’s ‘Make Music Pasadena’ and continuing on through the summer months, Levitt will play host each week to Children’s Night, American Night, World Night, Latin Night, and Jazz Night, from Wednesday to Saturday respectively. American night is no joke, either, with the likes of Laurie Lewis, the Blasters, Lisa Haley, and John Doe making appearances. Ditto for jazz, with Ernie Andrews, Billy Mitchell, Charles McPherson, Red Holloway and more all showing up before the summer’s over. Jazz is so refreshingly timeless. I listen now to jazz stations on the radio for the first time in twenty years and guess what? More than half is the same stuff! And I like it too, but here we’ll only go into the world and Latino offerings.

Last weekend featured Kusun Ensemble and Quetzal, playing Ghanaian and ‘Chicano’ music respectively. Kusun Ensemble is led by singer, composer/arranger, and percussionist Nii Tettey Tetteh (try saying that three times quickly) and flanked by guitar and bass and numerous other drums and objects of percussion. They play a sort of neo-highlife style of music they call ‘Nokoko’ (‘something’ in Ga language) that is equally jazzy and traditional. But that’s only half the story. Kusun Ensemble is equally a dance ensemble as much as a musical one. Now I’m typically a little skeptical about dancers accompanying bands, bringing back memories of ‘go-go’ and ‘chorus’ girls and such that I’d rather forget. I really got sour on the concept of ‘pretty young girl singers’ while living in Thailand. Music is music; if it needs models to sell itself, then I’ll pass. When’s the last time you saw a female country singer plain of face or lacking grace?

World music can be guilty of ‘tourist kitsch’ also, putting on a little song and dance, supposedly ethnic/indigenous, that makes you wonder when your guide is going to come and herd you off to another location to claim your free drink with a little sombrero impaled upon a swizzle stick. But Kusun Ensemble is no nonsense. These girls, and guys, including members of the National Ballet, can really dance, leaps and pirouettes, together and individually. The several costume changes were rewarding also, tending to evoke a certain mood indicative of the song being played. These guys play to a lot of cultural and educational centers in addition to music venues. Check them out live some time; the dancing gives it that little extra ‘je ne sais quoi’ that separates them from the also-rans.

Quetzal is a self-styled Chicano group hailed as ‘local heroes’ in the ad blurbs. Created by Quetzal Flores and fronted by vocalist Martha Gonzales, they offer an eclectic mix of Mexican and Latin rhythms, nothing if not ‘alternative,’ complete with a not-so-subtle political message of thoughtful revisionism, including a child named ‘Sandino’ for Ms. Gonzales and a picture of Noam Chomsky as one of the Top Ten MySpace friends. She must have layed it on a little thick at one point, inspiring some minor heckling, but didn’t lose her cool, settling only for, “quiero que me escuches.” We all do. We all want to be heard, but that is a double-edged sword. I even heard one of the Death Cab Cuties once say that interpreting politics for the masses “is our job.” That’s nice work if you can get it (just ask ‘W”), but I don’t think it’s part of the job description for a pena folclorica. An entertainer’s job is to entertain. Whatever else you can get away with is icing, or gravy, or something else fattening.

Quetzal’s music is good, if a little bit scattered by genre. It has all the makings of a Mexican son band, complete with various guitars, jaranas y requintos Jarochos (of Veracrucian style, from whence they just came) played by Flores and Cesar Castro, and this is probably what they do best, much to the audience’s appreciation. But they become generically confused with the neo-gospel stylings of keyboardist Quincy McCrary on the Hammond B3. Despite his considerable talent and welcome back-up vocals, the mix-and-match is a mismatch for me, not to mention that McCrary apparently is the only non-Latino in the group. Andy Mendoza on drums and Juan Perez on bass round out the group, with the addition of a violinist for whom I have no name. If she’s provisional, then they should keep her. She rescued their sound from mediocrity, shades of Scarlet Rivera. Still, if you’re looking for sones Jarochos, then wait for Son de Madera. They’re the real thing.

The fun continues this week. If Pasadena sounds a bit far away, then you’re in luck. LA has a Levitt Pavilion at McArthur Park and they’re starting their own series this week, similar to Pasadena. I’ll be there tomorrow for the big band salsa sound of Son Mayor, with Punta Cartel opening. The next night is Hawai’i night, with Keali’i Raichel and Na Leo. If I knew they’d play traditional Hawaiian music I’d go, but the easy listening stuff is a bit sappy for me, making Barry Manilow look like Iggy Stooge on meth (is that redundant?) I might head back to Pasadena Saturday night for Bandidos de Amor (Argentinian folklorica, Jamaican roots, and alternative?), but haven’t heard them so not sure. Then there’s the Hollywood Bowl next Tuesday. It’s not world music, not really anyway, but the LA Phil is doing Carmina Burana, based on the medieval poems which prove that the Dark Ages, to paraphrase Stephen Hawkings, “weren’t so dark.” Do I dare?