Patria o Meurte: No, no records in Cuba...
Danno3000
2,851 Posts
I'm back from eight days in Havana where, in between drinking (which is what I chose to instead of eating as the eating makes one want to drink), business, and little sightseeing, I spent my time sourcing records. I have never had such an experience before. Digging for records in a country with an incredible catalogue of music, but no internet, domestic collector's market, or significant record tourism is like knowing that in every record store you see, 25% of the records will be heat, 10% will be skated heat, and another 10% will be heat that you've never seen before. Actually, that's not entirely apt, because there's really only one record store in Havana. Most of the records are in people's homes. Once you find the right people, the records follow, usually at $3-4US, which is great since you're getting good value while giving Cubans what are huge sums outside of the tourist economy. A doctor can expect $25 a month, so when you drop $150 in one place, you can imagine the difference it makes. Admittedly, I had an easier time than most locating the right people as I got recommendations from the musicologists and musicians as I was speaking with, so don't expect to fly down and have quite the same luck. All the same, Havana is an incredible and utterly unique city and well worth visiting, particularly if you're a fan of art deco, mid-century modern, music, and friendly, open people. It took me two days before someone had given me Juan Formell's home phone number (i.e. one of the most famous living Cuban musicians)--can you imagine that happening in North America? The craziest place I've ever dug. I was told to ask for this dealer around a certain park at a particular time in the afternoon. Somehow I connected with him and he told me to visit his home the next morning. It was an address in the old city on a particularly slummy street. He led me through a small door into an alcove, filled with two orisha shrines so that there was no room to manoeuvre, and told me to follow him up a rickety ladder made from metal and old fruit boxes, probably of pre-revolution vintage, which led through a whole in the cieling and to his bedroom. The space had a cathedral's half-light from slits in the one boarded up window and was roughly 7' by 12'. It contained a mattress against one wall, records against another, a television, a picture of Castro and the pope, his personal effects, a suit bag hung above the records, and apparently random bric-a-brac. I pulled out endless raer from that room, all the while wondering how he got the records there in the first place. Getting the records down was certainly hard enough. His pricing was odd, too; he wanted four bucks for all the Juan Pablo Torres and ICAIC LPs, but everything else, including relatively clean Panart LPs were all three. 
This was the inside of a house in the Vedado neighbourhood, close to the University. The family ignored me completely and watched cartoons while I flipped through the records lined along the walls. Unfortunately, most of the raer was too well-loved to be of any use. 
Who hasn't looked for records in an egg store? These little bugs kept on crawling on my hands as I flipped through the vinyl. Lots of nice pre-revolutionary records, though. 
I figured I shouldn't leave Cuba without smoking a cigar, but I wish I had. Great in theory, but they make me green in practice. Ok, there aren't really any records on the malecon. This was posed (the road on the jacket is the same road that runs along where I was sitting). 
Look for Waxing Deep's cuban funk compilation in a month or so... 
This was the inside of a house in the Vedado neighbourhood, close to the University. The family ignored me completely and watched cartoons while I flipped through the records lined along the walls. Unfortunately, most of the raer was too well-loved to be of any use. Who hasn't looked for records in an egg store? These little bugs kept on crawling on my hands as I flipped through the vinyl. Lots of nice pre-revolutionary records, though. I figured I shouldn't leave Cuba without smoking a cigar, but I wish I had. Great in theory, but they make me green in practice. Ok, there aren't really any records on the malecon. This was posed (the road on the jacket is the same road that runs along where I was sitting). Look for Waxing Deep's cuban funk compilation in a month or so...
Comments
Luis Miguel "Romance" raer right there!
Wow, I would just start to cry in front of so many Areitos...
How many Chucho Valdez', Danno?
Wow, amazing. Juan Formell is really well known from Los Van Van. How's he living these days?
Flex some finds danno!
From what I've heard, finding chicken and gravy would be a pretty big score over there. But since I'm veggie I could live off bread and chips. Need to get there soon!
Danno, you still got to do the whole "please don't stamp my passport" thing?
que envidia!
Great post Danno!
Maybe one day Me and my mom can make it to see our family.
Now flex the finds!
Cuban immigration doesn't stamp anyone's passport. Instead, they stamp a little green slip the loss of which is punished by having your finger nails pulled out. I didn't meet any Americans--the tourists are overwhelmingly Spanish couples and Italian men cruising for prostitutes--but my understanding is that Americans can go there with only a little extra work.
Now, some of the records....
Holy Son of Juan!
What an adventure!
Did u call me at work today? I got your presents in the mail! Gracias!
Come to Montreal soon.
peace
h
welcome back
Cuba is my digging dream!
Did you see any live music?
Holy God you probably completed the Grupo Irakere
discography in one sweep!
MORE STORIES PLEASE!
Full on
Did you see any live music? One day with me and my wife and my brother in law, as we were walking along El Malecon we were stopped by a gentleman dressed all in white who then led us down an alley to the most amazing percussion and dance ritual dedicated to Ellegua. Man... Havana is something else.
Great post Danno. Man, I got to tell some of my Havana stories one day. Some of them jawns are HARD AS FUCK.