Blog Rumbera

I was just watching Nestor Emiro Gomez’s excellent interview of Michi Sarmiento for Herencia Latina, and realized that on the text for Aqui Los Bravos! The Best Of Michi Sarmiento y su Combo Bravo 1966​-​67 on Soundway (2010) I said that:

“By 1967 he had formed his Combo Bravo (the band consisted of two trumpets, Michi on tenor sax and clarinet, guitar and piano, electric bass, tumbadora, timbales and a young Joe Arroyo on vocals)”

Joe Arroyo never sang with Michi’s Combo – he sang with Michi’s Combo once they left Michi (in 1972, I believe) and became La Protesta, led by bassist Leandro Boiga.

Per Gomez’s interview, the members of Michi’s Combo included: Boiga on Bass, Rafael Benitez on Timbales, Guillermo Martinez, Faustino Martes, Angel Gonzalves and Sofronin Martinez (of Los Galleros) on Electric Guitar, Mauricio Lombana and Antonio Morales on Trumpet, Michi on Tenor Sax and Clarinet, Lucho Pertana (?) on Tunbadora. Singers included Michi, Felipe Sambergman Jr., Joe Hurtado and Victor Melendez (later of Latin Brothers). The pianist was the great Juancho Vargas (!), born in Barranquilla but living at the time in Medellin.

You can see the entire interview here:

This is a post I have been wanting to write for the longest time. I found the Cofradía Tamayo single “Rio Chucunaque”/ “Tu Cariño” over 15 years ago, and have been trying to find out about the band ever since. No one seemed to be able to tell me much – “they used to practice in this park, they gave shows in the street” was about all I ever learned.

Over the years I found or traded for the other three 45s I am aware of, all on Tamayo:

“Lolita”/”Contento Estoy”
“Ritmo Cofradia”/”Si Me Quereis”
“Las Panameñas”/”Palida Mañana” 

And though the “Las Panameñas” single is sought after as an example of the loose and hot Panamanian Salsa of the 1970s, none moves me like “Tu Cariño.”

Cofradía was founded by Luis “Wicho” Phillips and two friends from the barrio of Betania in Panama City in the early ‘70s. Before Cofradía, Wicho and his friends played rock covers at the infamous Golden Key nightclub, favored by US servicemen as it sat across the street from the Canal Zone in Panama city. The Golden Key scene, where bands like the Latin Monsters and Los Kiwis played regularly, will be detailed in forthcoming singles on the Discodelica (MX) label in the near future. From all descriptions, The Golden Key was nothing less than a nightly rock bacchanal. 

Ariel Rawlings, who composed and sang lead on “Tu Cariño,” is from the barrio of Carrasquilla. He got his start singing coro with a little local group, and his first lead was singing Cheo Feliciano’s “El Raton” (recorded with the Joe Cuba Sextet) when that song took the barrios of Latin America by storm in the mid ‘60s.

Ariel started a group with some friends (including Raymond Innis, nephew of singer Anselmo Inniss of the Panamanian combo Los Persuaders) that they called “The Soul Persuaders”, singing Salsa and Latin Soul. According to Ariel, young musicians who would go on to fame both in and outside of Panama such as timbalero George De Leon and singers Carlos El Grande and Gabino Pampini played with the Soul Persuaders. (link gabino to that article) The group never recorded, but Wicho apparently saw them play, and soon after both Ariel and Raymond joined Cofradía.

Cofradía played quinceañeras and” fiestecitas”, then moved on to University of Panama “novatadas” where they put huge stages in the middle of the street, and 4-6 bands would play while the students danced and partied. Bigger gigs included alternating with Pete “El Conde” Rodriguez when he was touring Panama.

Around 1974-75 they went into the studio to record for Tamayo. According to Wicho, the recordings took place in Balito Chan’s Panavox studios under Chan’s supervision. “They had two channels, one for music and another for vocals,” says Phillips. “You had to have the song down when you went in.”

Band members included Leader and Bateria/Timbales Wicho Phillips, singers Ariel and Beny Romero (link to other article) (of the combos Sui Generis and Roberto y su Zafra), Juan Salazar and the brilliant David Choy on piano, Mario Becabunco on bass, Umberto Philips on conga and Chicho Espinosa bongocero. The horn section included Oscar Suman and his cousin on trumpet, and two trombones: Kako and Chiqui (who was Oscar’s cousin). Ariel mentions a Boricua named “Bambam” who also played trombone with them. The electric guitar that really stands out on both “Tu Cariño” and ”Rio Chucunaque” was played by Carlos Grabowski, who both Phillips and Rawlings agree was a great player who “imitated Santana.”

The B-side “Tu Cariño” is a Rawlings composition that Ariel sang to David Choy, who wrote the arrangement and played piano on the recording. It’s listed as a “Salsa Bosanova”, and as typical of many brilliant Panamanian tunes, has a bit of everything in it. The horn arrangements on both sides of the 45 are as gorgeous as the electric guitar is tasteful. For me it’s nothing less than a pure expression of both the joy and sadness of love:

Gracias Ariel 🙏🏼

The A-side ”Rio Chucunaque” is an interesting choice for Cofradía to have recorded – it’s somewhat of an obscure Panama classic, written by Pablo Castillo and recorded in the very early ‘60s by the great Juan Coronel on the ABCO label with the Sexteto Moderno de Cuz. The original is listed on the 45 as a “Lamento Guajiro”, while the Cofradía version is rebooted as a “Salsa Guajira.” Wicho says that the idea for the Cofradía recording was singer Beny Romero’s, and the arrangement was by the great Alexis “El Profe” Castillo, whose hands are all over ‘70s Salsa in Panama.

The actual Rio Chucunaque is longest river in Panama and flows through the Jungle-covered Darién province that borders the Colombian Province of Chocó, long the home of Native nations like the Embera-Woounan and Colonial Afro populations. The song perfectly uses the dread tone of a classic Guajira to speak of the danger that ensues when the Rio Chucunaque floods:

And here is the original version of ”Rio Chucunaque” by Juan Coronel. Cuz, by the way, was the nickname for Teofilo Joseph – an excellent pianist and arranger who played with the Marcelino Alvarez Orquesta (one of the best big bands of the ‘50s and early ‘60s) as well as the Guardia Nacional’s Orquesta 11 de Octubre:

Wicho later formed a rock group called RST, and then went on to start the DJ/promotion company “Electro Disco”, for which he is well known in Panama. Electro Disco and its competitors were part of the process that finally killed the live combos in favor of the cheaper two turntables and a microphone.

Ariel sang with Bush y su Nuevo Sonido later on, and eventually ran his own soldering workshop in Carrasquilla.

Disfruten!

René Santos’ Conjunto was a key part of the musical scene in Panama throughout the 1960’s and into the early ’70s. Under-recognized Panamanian singing great Manito Johnson narrated a Battle of the Conjuntos held in Panama in the mid ’60s in an excellent interview published by Herencia Latina’s Eric Gonzalez ( Gonzalez is a pioneer in Panamanian Popular Music research):

Manito: “So, after lots of success in Colombia, the “Conjunto-show” — we had a “show” and everything — the Estrellas Panameñas de Máximo Rodríguez came back to Panama. It was 1966. We came back to the Jardín Rancho Grande as a bigger attraction – full every Friday, Saturday and Sunday. The parking lot and Vía España (in front of the Rancho Grande) was a madhouse. While we were working there, the heads of the Teatro Encanto planned a spectacle never before seen in Panama. That was to choose the best Conjunto in Panama by popular vote. In the competition were René Santos, Papi Arosemena, the Conjunto Gigante of Fermín Macías – my compadre, who also passed away –, and Máximo Rodríguez y sus Estrellas Panameñas.”

Eric: “René Santos had his own Orquesta?”

Manito: “Yes, he was the first to have an “Estrellas” in Panama. Well, you know René came from Cuba, and after the musicians in the Conjunto he came with went back, he stayed in Panama, and started a group in Panama, and called them the “Estrellas.” But Maximo’s were the “Estrellas Panameñas.” René’s I think were René Santos’ Estrellas”

Eric: “OK. What happened in the Teatro Encanto competition?”

Manito: “At the Teatro Encanto, we played second, and, after we finished playing, it was hard for Fermín Macías to play in the theater, because the people didn’t stop clapping and wouldn’t stop yelling. We won the competition by a mile, with “Lágrimas y Tristeza” and “Felicidad y Boogaloo”. It was two songs per Conjunto.”

Aside from René on Bass and Tres, Santos’ Conjunto/Estrellas at various times had Alfredo de Mercado, Jose Castro and Carlos Torne on trumpet, Moises “Monchi” Bustamante singing, “Professor”Tito Rodriguez (no relation to the Nuyorican bandleader/singer) on piano and vibes, “Benites” on piano, “Cañon” on timbales, Jorge “Cubita” Gonzalez on Congas and Santiago Labastid on on bongoses.

“Professor”Tito Rodriguez also played with both Maximo Rodriguez’s Estrellas Panameñas and Freddy y sus Afro Latinos, while both Monchi and Santiago Labastid later played with transplanted Dominican bandleader/trumpet player Rafael Labasta’s well-regarded Orquesta.

In the late ’60s/early ’70s, Santos recorded a pair of (now very sought after) LPs for Ducruet y Ducruet’s Panavox label, one in collaboration with organist Alberto Quintanar, and another with singer Sócrates Lazo. The Sócrates Lazo LP actually appears on the Loyola label, but the notes reveal that it is a Panavox/Ducruet production – both were recorded by Panavox’s brilliant engineer Eduardo “Balito” Chan.

Following are two songs from the Santos/Quintanar production Quintanar y su Clan Sonero, “Guaguina Yerabo” and “El Clan Sonero”. You can hear “Son de Mayari” from the Quintanar LP and see images in my previous post here: https://esperobook.com/2020/03/30/2-versions-of-son-de-mayari/

“Guaguina Yerabo” is a Chano Pozo original, and both Chano and Silvestre Mendez (who wrote “Son de Mayari”) were contemporaries of Santos in Cuba. Interesting to note that all three Cuban musicians had diasporic ends – Santos in Panama, Mendez in Mexico, and Chano in NYC, where he was famously gunned down at the age of 33 in an argument over bad cannabis – after having seeded the birth of Latin Jazz with Dizzy Gillespie and others.

Miguelito Valdes also did a version of “Guaguina Yerabo” with Casino de la Playa, as well with his own Big Band in the amazing 1949 NYC “Mambo Dance Session” recordings. The song is additionally notable for the lyrics (noted on the back of the Santos/Quintanar LP): “Salama ecu, malecumsala”, which signal the significant slice of Muslim Africans brought to Cuba during and after the 19th century Oyo/Dahomey wars :

And here is the mesmerizing Guajira “El Clan Sonero”:

The Santos/Lazo collaboration was entitled “A la Carga con la Descarga”, and featured Lazo, highly regarded as a bolerista, on vocals. Lazo is older brother to internationally recognized singer Gabino Pampini (nee Armando Lasso or Lazo).

Here is the heavy “Que Pena Magdalena” from the LP:

And here is the sweeter Son Montuno “Ay Que Sabor”:

In addition to the original Panamanian pressings, both the Santos/Quintanar and Santos/Lazo LPs were pressed in Colombia on the Real label.

I have elsewhere pointed out that Panama was a key part of overlapping musical routes of AfroCuban, Jazz, Calypso and Spanish Language popular musics during the 1930s through ‘70s. For AfroCuban music, key stops on the route included Havana, New York, Puerto Rico, Caracas, Mexico City and Panama City/Colon. A connected part of the story involves the diaspora of AfroCuban musicians throughout those destinations and further afield in Latin America. 

On the one hand, Cubans (musicians and otherwise) had been moving to Latin American countries (and NY, whose Latin population by the 1940s was over 150,000) throughout the first half of the 20^th century, bringing their music with them. Thus the interesting cultures of Danzón in Veracruz and the Yucatan since the beginning of the 20^th c., and Cuban Son dance cultures in the Dominican Republic and Curacao, some related to Cubans involved in the sugar industry moving to those countries. 

This happened in Colombia as well, per an article on Sexteto Tabalá: “The story of the sexteto in Colombian tradition begins in the sugar mills sometime in the 1930s. Fulfilling needs for labor, plantation managers imported Cuban workers to Colombian mills, and with them came not only their skill in the field, but their mastery of the son, a style of music originally played with the Spanish vocals and guitar matched by African rhythms.”

Various pushes and pulls brought Cuban musicians to Latin American countries (and again, to NYC) from the ‘30s through the ‘60s. The frothy nightlife of Mexico City, Colón (thanks to large populations of US servicemen and Canal employees) and Caracas offered excellent opportunities for Cuban musicians. All of these cities had well developed Radio stations, and Mexico City in addition was an emerging center of motion pictures distributed throughout the Spanish speaking world – especially the 1940s and ‘50s “Rumbera” movies that featured AfroCuban music and told stories of dissipate women in the nightlife milieu.

Some of the pulls to NY included the opportunity to play lucrative gigs for White society (especially for light skinned musicians) and for Latin populations alike. Per “Hispanic New York, A Sourcebook” the Puerto Rican population exploded from roughly 60,000 in 1940 to  600,000 in 1960, and they were key consumers (and contributors to new forms of) of AfroCuban music. So Anselmo Sacasas and Miguelito Valdes, the star pianist/arranger and singer respectively of Orquesta Casino de la Playa, both left for NY in the early ‘40s. Sacasas had a successful career playing the sort of society clubs Walter Winchell could be found at, later retiring to Puerto Rico. Likewise Miguelito Valdes, who played with the nationally famous Xavier Cugat, and later acted in movies in Hollywood and Mexico City.

For more on Miguelito, see my article here: http://esperobook.com/2020/04/23/cugie-ricky-ricardo-and-the-real-mr-babalu/

Another impetus to sojourn in or move to Latin American cities involved the sheer numbers of excellent musicians in Havana. The talent was just too deep, and there were only so many choice gigs. Beny Moré is the classic example. An unknown in his native Cuba, he could not break through in the Havana of the early ‘40s, so moved to Mexico City and recorded a series of seminal recordings (“La Culebra, “Bonito y Sabroso”, etc.) that have become classics of the AfroCuban canon. He returned to Cuba a star in the early 1950s.

Excellent musicians either proceeded or followed him to Mexico City, including singers Orlando “Cascarita” Guerra, Kiko Mendive (who also lived in Caracas), singer/composers Francisco Fellové and Silvestre Méndez, and Bandleaders Damaso Pérez Prado and Mariano Mercerón.

Racism also pushed Cuban musicians – Havana’s color line was as bad as in any US state, exacerbated by large numbers of US tourists and Yankee casino managers who insisted on anti-black racism. Many musicians commented on racism as a factor in their decision to immigrate, including Machito bandleader Mario Bauza, who was relieved to be able to live in a Harlem where blackness was normal. 

Finally, political developments were a push, especially after the Cuban Revolution, leading artists like Celia Cruz and La Sonora Matancera to emigrate first to Mexico and later to NY and other cities in the US and Latin America. Some of this was based on political preferences, but it was also true that Revolutionary Cuba both effectively killed Havana’s nightlife and suppressed AfroCuban religious practices after the revolution.

Coming back to Panama, as I noted earlier in a post on René Santos’ recordings with Alberto Quintanar: “Santos was part of a wave of Cuban musicians that came to Panama in the mid ’40s to play in the popping nightclub scene during and after the World War, names that include Peruchín and Miguelito Cuní!” Another accomplished musician who moved to Panama (and then to NY, and back to Panama) was Saxophonist/violinist Chombo Silva, who played with the Alegre All Stars in NY and whose tone on Sax has been likened to Lester Young’s. 

Big name Cuban bands also toured Panama in the era, including Orquesta Riverside and Roberto Faz, and Cascarita, Beny and Manuel “Puntillita” Licea played the carnavales numerous times in the late ‘40s through 1950s. For more on Beny in Panama, see my article here: http://esperobook.com/2020/04/18/salsa-in-panama-from-beny-to-willie/

Of René Santos unfortunately I have not been able to find much documentation, and he passed in the months before I first visited Panama for interviews (he was one of the first I inquired about). According to Mario Garcia Hudson, Director of the Centro Audiovisual de la Biblioteca Nacional de Panama, Santos came to Panama in 1948. Francisco Bush Buckley (QEPD) in his “La Musica Salsa en Panama y Algo Mas” has Santos touring Panama with the Conjunto Habana, and deciding to stay.

As Tresero (and bassist), Santos was a solid representative of the Cuban Conjunto style in Panama. Remember these are the glory years for Cuban Conjuntos – Beny had gone to Mexico with the Conjunto Matamoros in 1945, and by the late ‘40s Arsenio’s Conjunto was just breaking up as he was moving to NY to try to get advanced medical care for his blindness. All the excellent Conjuntos that splintered from Arsenio’s seminal group, such as Conjunto Modelo, Estrellas de Chocolate and the inimitable Conjunto Chappottin, led by Arsenio’s first trumpet, were at their peak in this era or shortly afterward.

Santos played in various groups in Panama, including Armando Boza’s La Perfecta, and Trio Las Tres Voces with (soon to be famous Bolerista) Marta Estela Paredes and Cuban singer Osvaldo García.  García, who later sang with Panamana’s Orquesta Rumba Casino, imparted his knowledge of Cubano Soneo to a young Panamanian singer named Felipe Carrasco, who would go on to sing with Santos and many other excellent groups.

Santos also played with the Conjunto Bahia, which included García and singers Sonia Evans (also Cuban) and Panamanian Jorge Luis “Chuchi” Moreno. Per Hudson, Chuchi, who was a singer with Ezequiel “Pipo” Navarro’s Conjunto Estrellas Panameñas, loved the conjunto style and was one of the first to sing with Santos when he organized his own Conjunto.

Here is Chuchi singing the delicious Son Montuno “Pegao Pegao” with René Santos’ Conjunto, on the Discos Istmeños 45:

In the ‘60s, Moreno also sang with the Conjunto Gigante, the house band of Panama’s National TV2, directed by Saxophonist Gussy Escobar and later by Fermín Macias. It seems that there was a rotating door of musicians between René Santos’ Conjunto and his Estrellas and both Conjunto Gigante, as well as the well-regarded Orquesta 11 de Octubre of the Guardia Nacional.

Conjunto Gigante’s pianist was Teofilo “Cuz” Joseph, and arrangements were handled by Escobar, Santos and Panama’s famed bassist/bandleader/arranger Clarence Martin Sr. Conjunto Gigante also featured singer Marcos Caceres, who moonlighted as an outstanding graphic artist. In fact, Caceres designed a number of the arresting LP covers in Panama’s discography  – The Nuevos Soul Fantastic and Manito Johnson y Sus Diferentes LPs on Taboga stand out as examples.

Here is Moreno again, this time with Conjunto Gigante, singing the massive “Guajiralandia” on Padisco:

Santos’ Conjunto also featured Felipe Carrasco, mentioned above. According to Eric Gonzalez of Herencia Latina, Carrasco is considered Panama’s best Cuban-style Sonero. Carrasco first recorded (and had a small hit) with Santos’ Conjunto on “Tierra Querida/Sarasí” on the Artelec label. He later went on to sing with the Orquesta 11 de Octubre, Conjunto Gigante, Víctor “Vitín” Paz’s Orquesta, Rafael Labasta’s Orquesta, Los Salvajes del Ritmo ( which earlier had a young Ruben Blades as singer) and his own group called “Los Criollos.” Carrasco’s sister is Catalina Carrasco – “Catita” de Panamá – one of the most famous música típica singers. who starred with the Conjunto de Yin Carrizo.

Here is Carrasco singing René’s love poem to Panama, the guaracha “Tierra Querida”:

Finally, here is another excellent 45 by René Santos y Sus Estrellas – the Boogaloo flavored Son Montuno “Yo No Camino Mas”. The song is of Cuban origin, written by Anacario Mondejar. Damirón y Su Charanga did a version in the ‘60s, and the Sonny Bravo-led NY powerhouse Típica 73 later recorded a nice modern charanga típica version, featuring all-world musicians Alfredo De La Fe on violin and Mario Rivera on Baritone Sax, with vocal by Jose “El Canario” Alberto.

The singer is not listed but everyone seems to agree it’s neither Carrasco nor Moreno. Musician and Panamanian Music Historian Clarence Martin Jr. believes that it’s either Manolín Diaz or Tony Bermudez.

To be continued…

If your first reaction to the name Camilo Rodriguez is “who?”, I get you. Even if you are a deep lover of AfroCuban music, who knows the names Beny Moré, Miguelito Valdés, maybe even Orlando “Cascarita” Guerra, you might not know who Camilo was or what he meant to AfroCuban music.

When I first started visiting Panama in the early 2000s, I would find among the hot Panamanian Salsa records (and Nuyorican, Boricua, Colombian, Venezuelan, Peruvian etc.) that were revealing themselves to me these semi-corny LPs (see next pic) by Camilo Rodriguez, or celebrating him, on Panamanian labels, usually mostly Boleros and tepid Sones.

With the Pelaos (older cats who were in their prime in the ‘50s and ‘60s, who I was lucky enough to have sat with for hours) his name was spoken with same reverence as other singing greats in the AfroLatin pantheon like Miguelito Valdés, Daniel Santos, Jose Luis Moneró and Beny himself. But even though Camilo (who passed in 1985) was Panamanian, I didn’t get it – I figured he was loved as a bolerista, while I was hunting vinyl by the Soneros, Rumberos and Guaracheros.

I also understood that he was Camilo Azuquita’s (Luis Argumédez Berguido) “Padrino” – Azuquita being the Panamanian singing phenom who burst on the local scene in the early ‘60s singing boleros on a radio show, and was soon snapped up by Boricua heavyweights Kako and Cortijo. Both Kako and Cortijo toured often in Panama, and Azuquita went on to fame in the NY Salsa boom of the ‘70s and later was key to the Salsa boom in France in the ‘80s. Azuquita got the “Camilo” from Camilo Rodriguez. Camilo Rodriguez became “El Gran Camilón.” According to Azuquita’s FB page (He is alive and well in Panama, “Si Seño!“) El Gran Camilón taught his protege vocal technique and how to manage air while singing.

Still, I didn’t get it. Later, when I had the luck to visit Panamanian Bandleader/Singer/Bassist Maximo Rodriguez (QEPD) – leader of one of the hottest groups in Panamanian music, bar none – at his home, I saw a stylized drawing of Maximo singing with Camilo dressed in white guayaberas on the wall, in a Cuarteto with maracas, bass and guitar. I wasn’t clear if Maximo, who was ten years Camilo’s junior, ever actually sang in a Cuarteto with him (I think they did – and Maximo later dedicated an album to him), but what I understood was that Maximo absolutely idolized Camilo. When someone you idolize idolizes someone else, you take note.

Director of the Centro Audiovisual de la Biblioteca Nacional de Panama Mario Garcia Hudson, who I am honored to call a friend, has done excellent research on Rodriguez, especially focusing on his history as Bolerista. Those of us who lean towards the hotter rhythms of the AfroLatin canon might underestimate Boleros, but they were probably a coequal or even greater part of the fame of many of the musicians and orquestas we admire from the first half of the 20th century.

Things started to jell when I was researching a post on Rene Santos, a Cuban who moved to Panama in the late ‘40s and whose recordings I love. I went back to marinating on the movement of Cubans back and forth from Havana, Spanish Harlem, Mexico City, Puerto Rico, Caracas and Panama, and at this point I feel I understand more what Camilo meant to Afro-Latin music generally and to music in Panama specifically. I’d like to share that here.

Thanks in part to research done by Hudson, we know that Camilo Rodriguez was born in the barrio of Paja in Panama City in 1909 to a Colombian father and Martinican mother. His mother Margarita Lena was employed (as a domestic?) by a wealthy French couple, and this story seems common enough in Panama at the time. Remember that the French were deeply involved in the first attempt to dig the Canal, which ended in fiasco in the 1880s, while Panama was part of Colombia until 1903, and Martinicans were among the many Antilleans (mostly Afro-Antilleans) to be employed doing the dangerous dirty work of digging the canal and its ancillary industries/service needs under both the French and North Americans.

When Margarita’s employers up and moved to Cuba, she followed with a young Camilo. When the couple then left Cuba, she stayed and raised Camilo in Cienfuegos, “La Perla del Sur.” Contemporaries in the Cienfuegos music scene of the 1930s included pianist/arranger René Hernandez of Julio Cueva’s influential Orquesta, and later the Machito orchestra in NYC, and Marcelino “Rapindey” Guerra, a childhood friend of Camilo’s. Hernández was one of big three arrangers developing mambo in the ‘40s including Arsenio and Bebo Valdés. Guerra, another titan of AfroCuban music, was a composer, singer/guitarist, and original member of Arsenio Rodriguez’s conjunto (and a key part of the NY scene from the mid ‘40s on).

Here’s where Mariano Mercerón enters our story. Mercerón was an Afro-Cuban bandleader and Sax player from (Santiago) Oriente, the other side of the island from Havana, with its deep Afro-Spanish and Haitian roots, where the Son and Changui are believed to have originated. Musicians coming from Oriente had flavor. Mercerón led a Cuban version of a North American Jazzband in the ‘30s, called the Piper (pepper) Boys, which he moved to Havana and by around 1940 was Spanish-ized to Mariano Mercerón y sus Muchachos Pimienta.

In around 1942 Mercerón y sus Muchachos Pimienta began recording for RCA Victor, which had phenomenal success with Cuban music through the late ‘20s and ‘30s (including Don Azpiazu’s globe-conquering “El Manisero”) and again in the late 1930s with Orquesta Casino de la Playa. Casino de la Playa, you’ll recall, was fronted by singer Miguelito Valdés, singing songs by the hottest composer of the time, Arsenio Rodriguez. Scholars agree that Casino de la Playa’s 1937-40 recordings revolutionized Latin American music. For more on Valdés, see my earlier article Cugie, Ricky Ricardo and the Real Mr. Babalu .

The Muchachos Pimienta had a young Pedro “Peruchín” Justiz – widely hailed as one of the great geniuses of Cuban dance piano – on piano and handling arrangements. Marcelino Guerra played guitar and brought his hit compositions. Mercerón’s band had saxes, trumpets and a trombone, jazzband style, along with trap drums and bongo. This was one of the two major splits in band formations in Cuban music at the time – the Cuban Orquestas (like Casino de la Playa and Muchachos Pimienta) were based on North American Jazzbands, while the Arsenio Conjunto style concept (as well as La Sonora Matancera etc.) comes from the Son Sextetos/Septetos adding piano and an additional trumpet and piano (and soon after, a tumbadora).

The percussion really stands out in the Muchachos Pimienta recordings, which are remarkably hot for the very early ‘40s – listen to the example of “Nagüe!” below for instance. A Tumbadora may have been added for ambiente during recordings – AfroCuban music expert Harry Sepulveda notes that this was the time when, thanks to Afro-vanguardists like Arsenio, the tumba was being incorporated into more bands despite its “jungle” connotations in the dominant culture.

This generally depended on the venue the band was playing in – Bands didn’t bring the tumba to White society gigs, but they did to Black society gigs or beer halls, and in recording sessions no one could see the color of the player’s skin. As Ned Sublette has noted in his epic Cuba and Its Music: From the First Drums to the Mambo, neither Arsenio (widely hailed as The Godfather of Salsa music) nor Ramon Castro, who recorded (Arsenio’s compositions) with Casino de la Playa on Tres and Bongo respectively, were allowed to play live with the Orquesta because of their color.

The Muchachos Pimienta recorded tens of 78s in the 1942-46 period, including hits such as Marcelino Guerra’s bolero-son “A Mi Manera” and Mercerón’s “El Cantante Del Amor”, the massive guaracha “Pare Cochero” (still a Salsa standard), Mercerón’s composition “Negro Ñañamboro”, Arsenio’s epic “Llora Timbero” and Chano Pozo’s “Nagüe”. Chano was probably the second hottest composer of the time, along with Arsenio, and his “Nagüe” (which loosely translates as “homie” in Cuban Abakuá slang – the song says “Homie, what are you doing around here? I have a lil chick that lives down the street”) became a calling card for two of the hottest singers in the Latin America (in which I include NY) of the ‘40s: Miguelito Valdés and Machito.

We know coming in that Camilo Rodriguez is still remembered for his Boleros, but it turns out he (in duet with Roberto Duany – but Camilo was the lead) sang “Negro Ñañamboro”, “Llora Timbero” and “Nagüe!.”

Wait what? The original recording of “Nagüe” is Camilo Rodriguez?

Asi es. By the way, Camilo also played bass for the Muchachos Pimienta, which blew me away to comprehend. See him on the Tumbao CD cover above holding the bass. The bottom of the hottest dance band from Santiago de Cuba, the hottest part of Cuba, was held down by a Colombian/Martinican Panamanian? This man clearly had world-class flavor.

It turns out that the Muchachos Pimienta recordings were so influential in NY (RCA records were pressed in NY, and Spanish Harlem was one of its biggest markets) that Machito’s first band (Machito and his Afro Cubans – the seminal Mambo band of New York in the ’40s-50s) was essentially a copy of Mercerón’s in both instrumentation and repertoire – including “Negro Ñañamboro”, “Llora Timbero” and “Nague!.” (Sepulveda notes that Machito also had a number of Julio Cueva’s tunes – sung by a young Orlando “Cascarita” Guerra – in his book as well).

And not just in NY – likewise in Puerto Rico, Caracas, Panama and Mexico City (the fertile scene for both music and film (“Frijolywood”) that Mercerón would decamp to in 1946). In fact, it also turns out that Ismael Rivera – Maelo, El Brujo de Borinquen, El Sonero Mayor – is on record saying that Camilo’s vocals on those Mercerón 78s from the early ‘40s were a huge influence on him. According to Harry Sepulveda, Cortijo and Maelo were very close to Camilo, as was Rafael Ithier, Pianist and bandleader of El Gran Combo. In fact, Camilo is said to have suggested the song “Irimo” to Ithier (Gran Combo’s original version with a young Andy Montañez singing is a personal favorite).

In 1946, Mercerón dissolves the Muchachos Pimienta and moves to Mexico City. There he was the first to record Beny Moré as a solo singer, and stayed in Mexico until the early ‘50s, when he moved back to Cuba and toured with Beny. He then returned to Mexico for good in 1958. This put him in the company of Miguelito Valdés, Pérez Prado, Francisco Fellové, Silvestre Mendez, Cascarita and other Afro Cuban geniuses/race refugees who moved permanently to the Aztec capital.

Meanwhile, Camilo records a famous session with Pedro Flores – probably the best known Boricua composer next to Rafael Hernández (with whom he performed in Trío Borinquen) – and his Conjunto on RCA, which yielded the massive hits “Si No Eres Tu” and (Te doy mil) “Gracias.” The chisme around this session is that Flores first tried to get legendary Boricua vocalist Daniel Santos to record with him, but Santos turned him down, and further that the band was not Flores’, but actually the recently dissolved Muchachos Pimienta.

And then in 1947, Camilo moves back to Panama.

Let’s check in on some of the other legendary artists we’ve referenced so far: Miguelito Valdés moved to NY around 1940 to sing with Cugat and Machito, and later started his own Orchestra and became an international idol of screen and stage.

Marcelino Guerra likewise moved to NYC in 1944 to play with Machito’s Afrocubans and starts his own influential Orquesta Batamu, and Marcelino Guerra Orquesta, recording sessions on Coda and Verne records respectively. He also rejoins Arsenio, who has moved to the Bronx, enriching a New York scene that explodes through the Mambo-ChaChaCha-Pachanga-Boogaloo-Salsa decades of the ‘50s-70s. Two of my favorite songs of the early ‘60s mambo sound in New York are from Guerra’s pen: Sexteto La Playa’s “Busco Lo Tuyo” (which Marcelino sings on) and Machito and Sexteto La Playa’s “Yo Soy La Rumba”/”Oye Mi Rumba.”

In the late ‘40s Noro Morales and Machito were headlining the Palladium and society gigs in NY (the Titos Rodriguez and Puente were just getting started with their own bands), while Chano Pozo had arrived (1947) and begun his Cubop experiments with Dizzy Gillespie, only to meet a violent death soon after. In Puerto Rico, Rafael Muñoz (with singer Jose Luis Monero) was an Orquesta with international projection. Cascarita was in PR, recording with Pepito Torres’ Orquesta Siboney (with a young Joe Valle). In Caracas, Billo’s Caracas Boys were a carbon copy of Casino de la Playa and Rafael Muñoz’s outfits.

And Panama? Panama was popping. There was diverse nightlife on both coasts (including Calypso and North American Jazz) driven by the hordes of US servicemen streaming out of both ports at the ends of the US’s colonial property in the Canal Zone. Miguelito Valdés was back and forth in Panama – he lived there from 1933-34, playing with bandleader Lucho Azcarraga, and bore a son (Chengue) who would go on to direct a major television channel in Panama. Cascarita was in Panama all the time, and both Peruchín and the great Miguelito Cuní lived there for periods in the 1940s. Beny Moré – an early fan favorite in Panama, before he became popular in Cuba – would play the carnavales in Panama 7 times between 1947 and 1962.

Camilo came back to a scene that was primed to receive him, as I wrote in an earlier article: “By the 1940s, as Panamanian society and culture began to consolidate after the waves of immigration from the construction of the Canal, the great majority of the music consumed on the radio, in cabarets, theaters and via 78 and soon 45 and 33rpm records was Cuban music. Per the writer Plinio Cogley, probably 70% of the music consumed in Panama was Cuban music.”

This man was a legend. It’s almost as if Mariano Rivera had left the Yankees at his peak to come play in Panama. But as veteran AfroCuban music journalist Lil Rodriguez has pointed out about the many brilliant Venezuelan musicians who stayed put during the Salsa boom of the ’70s and did not go seek fame in NY – if the local scene was deep and fruitful enough, why move to NYC or Mexico City?

Camilo recorded with the number one big band in Panama, Armando Boza’s Perfecta, and became the main singer with another top level Orquesta led by Marcelino Alvarez. He sang with Angelo Jaspe’s, Clarence Martin’s and Raul Ortiz’s Orquestas, and recorded with the Guardia Nacional’s Orquesta 11 de Octubre. His presence was clearly a great boon to the scene in Panama, which I have been helping to document with this blog.

I mentioned El Gran Camilón was an idol of Ismael Rivera, here they are singing together in Panama in 1970 (Maelo used to hide out in Panama all the time, and his epic hit “El Nazareno” is based on his experience visiting the Black Christ of Portobelo, patron saint of maleantes).

Camilo Rodriguez passed away in 1985 in Panama at the age of 76.

Many thanks to Harry Sepulveda, Mario Garcia Hudson, Francisco Bush Buckley QEPD, Anel Sanders and los Pelaos del Minimax.

Here are PDFs of the Panama! Series (Soundway Records UK) Liner Notes:

Three musical flowers that grew from the seeds of Los Mozambiques included Nueva Vida, Roberto y Su Zafra and Skorpio 77.

Ernesto “Cortijo” Atherley, who played cencerro for Los Mozambiques and later timbales and batería for Jaime Murrell’s Skorpio, got the chance to lead his own band in 1975-76. Known as Orquesta Nueva Vida (Nuevavida, Nueva Vida) they recorded a number of beautiful sides across four 45s on the Tamayo label, including a fantastic version of Don Lengua (see earlier post) with vocal by Murrell.

Orquesta Nueva Vida included Atherley on timbales/batería, Skorpio’s David Choy on electric piano (Wurlitzer), Chombín on bass, Timaná (now living in Spain) on tumbadora, and two (delicious) trombones in Macarthy and De Leon. Macarthy, who now lives in France, was from a Cuban family and did the horn arrangements with Choy. Vocals were by Los Mozambiques big three of Carlos Martinez, Jaime Murrell and Eduardo Williams. On the last 45, Victor Del Rosario – Babaila’s brother – handled the vocals. I have not been able to get the name of the bongocero – if anyone knows, please advise.

The A-side of “Don Lengua” was “Sombrero de Paja”, which the musicians most likely heard from a version by the Venezuelan Cholo y su Combo from the De Espanto! canta Chiqui Tamayo LP on Velvet (1966/67). The original composition was “Un Sombrero de Paja” (1964) by the Argentine Chico Novarro (real name Bernardo Mitnik, child of Jewish migrants from Europe). In this lovely remake, vocals are by the golden-throated Carlos Martinez:

Nueva Vida’s four 45s are as follows:

“Sombrero de Paja/Don Lengua” (Vocal by Carlos Martinez/Jaime Murrell)
“Rosita/Consuelate” (Vocal by Carlos Martinez/Eduardo Williams)
“Gloria Melina/Pa’ Jerusalem” (Vocals by Carlos Martinez)
“La Mariposa/Mi Corazon Te Llama” (Vocals by Victor Del Rosario)

Roberto y su Zafra (the zafra is the annual cane harvest) were led by Mozambiques guitarist Roberto Dominguez, and their first (self-titled) LP on Tamayo (1976) featured Ricardo Babaila del Rosario (see previous post) on vocals. Arrangements were by Alexis “El Profe” Castillo, whose fingerprints are all over Panamanian Salsa in the ’70s, and the combo featured the well regarded “Amed” on piano. There is an extended bio of Roberto Dominguez here.

The first song on the LP has Babaila singing a hot version of “El Muñeco De La Ciudad”, here renamed “El Negro de la Ciudad” . The song is a great example of some of the musical pathways traveled in the Latin Caribbean.

“El Muñeco De La Ciudad” is a Venezuelan Merengue by composer Adrián Pérez from Miranda state in that lovely, troubled country, which became a big hit as recorded by Nelson Pinedo with la Sonora Matancera in La Habana Cuba in 1954. Pinedo himself was from Barranquilla, Colombia, and Wikipedia says this about his work with La Sonora Matancera :”He incorporated various Colombian songs (porros, cumbias, and mapalés) into the band’s repertoire—many being adapted to Cuban rhythms such as the Bolero.” Here Roberto Dominguez and Babaila Del Rosario throughly Pana-salsify the classic, adding bits of Boricua Sonero Mayor Ismael Rivera’s “Mi Negrita Me Espera” into the mix:

Roberto y su Zafra was soon joined by Beny Romero, who would become the band’s main singer (they also recorded with Gabino Pampini). Here is a song from their excellent LP De Beny a Beny (dedicated to Beny Moré) – also with arrangements by Alexis Castillo, and this time with piano by Raul Gallimore – a cover of Silvestre Mendez’s “Yiri Yiri Bom”, which Moré immortalized in 1948-50 with Orquesta De Rafael De La Paz in Mexico City:

In 1977, Skorpio also split up, and half of the band recorded at least three songs, with Tommy Barrett now on vocals – “Violencia” which shares a 45 with Roberto y su Zafra’s “Que Murmuren”, and an excellent version of the Johnny Colón dancefloor burner “Merecumbe” :

Thanks for help with research on this series goes to my brother Paul Hobi, Alonso Speid QEPD, Tommy Barrett QEPD, and Maestros David Choy, Ricardo “Babaila” del Rosario, Carlos Martinez and Virgilio Martin. Additional information was taken from the Retro Panama Musical account on FB

Disfruten!

When musicologists and historians note that Salsa music – the catchall marketing term for the glory that Nuyoricans and Cubans in NYC transformed AfroCuban dance music into in the ’60s and ’70s – was the music of the barrios of (Caribbean) Latin America, they can use Ricardo “Babaila” Del Rosario as a living, breathing (and singing) example. (Panama had and has many such examples, including Francisco “Bush” Buckley, Maximo Rodriguez, Anel Sanders, Manito Johnson, and all of their bandmates and socios in La Salsa Panameña).

Del Rosario was born in Panama City in 1954 but raised by his grandmother in Colón, singing in the church with her. He started out singing rock tunes (“In a Gadda da Vida”) and playing bongo and cencerro, and when he moved back to Panama City at 14 or 15 he returned an environment where his tío would play records of Maelo Rivera and Gran Combo, and where he saw a young Willie Colón (and Hector Lavoe), Roberto Roena and others playing live at the Carnavales.

In around 1973, he was living with the brother of Hermogenes “Toty” Pino, who was playing trombone in Los Mozambiques de Jaime Morrell (just before they became Skorpio). Toty’s brother suggested he put Ricardo on, and he began playing cencerro and singing backup. As gigs wore on and singer Eduardo Williams’ voice began to fade, Ricardo got his shot to sing lead and did not miss.

He nailed “Babaila”, the epic Salsa classic about an enslaved African boy (another “Tite” Curet Alonso composition) from Pete “El Conde” Rodriguez’s solo debut LP, and crowds began asking for it. Popular radio DJ Emiliano Aizpurúa gave him the song title as a nickname, and it stuck.

Babaila Del Rosario is a rumbero, like the old school Cubans – along with Gabino Pampini, he’s perhaps the perfect distillation of the Panamanian salsa swing – bouncy vocal improvisations llenas de sabor from the school of Beny, Cascarita and Maelo (who loved and hid out in Panama often in later years. Which is where he encountered “El Naza”, the black christ of Portobelo who inspired the massive hit “El Nazareno”.) Like a true rumbero, Del Rosario doesn’t like to prepare too much before he goes in front of the mike, as he says it affects his improvisation.

in 1974, Toty Pino left Los Mozambiques to become bandleader of Los Excelentes, and brought Ricardo over with him to record for Tamayo’s Monumental Tamayo Vol. 1 (see previous post), a sampler where each group sang one song (with crowd noise and DJ intros by Aizpurua) that marked Tamayo’s strong entry into a market hungry for the sounds of the new generation of Combos Nacionales.

Los Excelentes recorded “La Aparición”, a song by Carlos Eleta Almarán. Eleta was a force in Panama and Latin America generally, as: 1. Radio pioneer and founder with his brother Fernando of the first Television channel of Panamá, RPC Televisión, Canal 4 2. Manager of World Champion Roberto “Manos de Piedra” Duran 3. Composer of the worldwide hit love song “Historia De Un Amor.” (His niece is Gladys Palmera, probably the world’s preeminent collector of Latin American music, who with José Arteaga runs the fantastic Radio Gladys Palmera site and archive).

The song was a big hit – sometimes referred to by its hook “Con la Velita y su San Miguel”:

In 1975, Del Rosario was also singing with Jaime’s Murrell’s latest creation, Skorpio (see previous post) , and as they were preparing the Balada-Soul “Te Conocí”for a single on Tamayo, they realized they needed a song for the other side.

Babaila stepped forward with his own composition, “Te Toca Tocar La Tumba”, and as a result one of the hottest bits of Panamanian dancefloor Salsa was pressed on 7 inch vinyl. Musical Director/Pianist David Choy did the Bass and Piano arrangement (and played the Wurlitzer), and Umar Al Sadik (then known as Dario “Plaga” Rodriguez) arranged the metals and played Trumpet:

How much was Del Rosario paid for his composition? $100, and he was thrilled to rush out and buy new threads with his earnings (check out his style on the cover of the Roberto y su Zafra LP, following post).

Del Rosario has gone on to a successful career recording with the likes of Colombia’s Diego Galé (leader of Grupo Galé) and is, as the time of this writing, still singing and recording. His latest recordings have exposed a whole new generation to his brilliant composition:

Echa Comay!

Jaime Murrell was looking for a new sound, which he had been probing towards with his “I Like To Be With You” (see previous post) on Happy Records, his last using the name Los Mozambiques. For his new band – named Skorpio – he added trumpets in Umar Al Sadik (then known as Dario “Plaga” Rodriguez) and Enrique Arthur, Ibrahim Merel on Sax, and enlisted a nineteen year old piano prodigy/arranger named David Choy.

Choy (b. 1955), who was raised in El Casco Viejo, had Cuban and Chinese grandfathers who were both professional musicians. His uncles were horn players as well, and luminaries like internationally recognized trumpet player Victor “Vitin” Paz were regular household guests. Choy, who started young on the violin and piano, studied medicine, intending to be a plastic surgeon. At 16 or 17 he was attending a dance where the Soul Fantastics were playing, and someone who knew he could play let the band know, and they invited him onstage to play the organ.

Music called, and he spent a year and half at the conservatory, learning how to read, write and arrange. At some point he came to the attention of Murrell, who took him on as pianist for the recording of Los Mozambiques “I Like To Be With You”, and subsequently as musical director of Skorpio. Choy had arguments with his Cuban grandfather, who wanted him to focus on classical music, but he persisted. Recall that at this time, being a popular dance musician was considered a lower class occupation, almost like being part of an underworld.

Aside from the new horns (which at times included Hermogenes “Toty” Pino on trombone), Murrell got Federico “Rico” Blythe on guitar, brothers Ricardo “Oso” and Jorge “Willie” Ramirez on Bass and Drums respectively, Manuel Vicente Rosales on Tumba and backup singer/guitar player Tommy Barrett. Per Tommy, Willie Ramirez was a smoking hot drummer.

(I met Tommy (QEPD) in Colón in the early 2000s, and he was quite a character. He had a small stand just inside one of the many run-down buildings along the Avenida Central where he made custom mix CDs for people by burning audio from LPs and 45s that people found in the trash and brought to him. He had fantastic taste in music. Unfortunately, he would throw them away after he had burned them, and no matter when I said, I couldn’t convince him to hold on to the vinyl so I could buy them the next time I was in town. Nothing I said could convince him otherwise.)(Insert Edvard Munch Scream emoji here.)

Skorpio recorded an excellent cover of Cheo Feliciano’s “El Raton” on Discos Taboga with distorted electric guitar, which Cheo had recently rereleased with the Fania All Stars on the live “Latin – Soul – Rock” LP – which was huge in the Carribean barrios of Latin America at that time. And then they entered the studio for Sr. Almanza of Happy Records again.

Almanza’s Happy/Continental de Discos label is another one of the small labels that produced some fantastic music in ’70s Panama, including the Latin Soul of Natalia Clarke and the Gliders, La Maffia (their monster version of Fela Kuti’s “Black Man Cry” was on Happy), as well as two excellent Salsa dura 45s (and one LP that inexplicably only had a Colombian pressing) by the underrated La Ofensiva.

Here is the cover for their debut LP Skorpio on Happy, with stunning art credited to Alfonso Hernández:

Skorpio was the first combo to use a piano – soon a Wurlitzer electric piano, which stood out in Choy’s hands – and Murrell and Choy’s new sound was on full display in their fantastic soulful/latin arrangement of Mexican Idol Vicente “Chente” Fernandez’s 1972 megahit “Volver Volver”:

Regarding his arrangement of “Volver Volver”, Choy noted that he was sometimes chided for his eclectic tastes by other bandleaders and arrangers who were squarely in the Afro-Cuban school – but, he admits: “Yo soy muy Funkero, Latino pero Funkero.”

Another masterpiece on this LP is the 10 minute long (split into two songs) ” I Can’t Make It/E Man Boogie.” Both are covers, the first of Bay Area Chicano/Latin Rock legends Sapo (an original 1974 composition by singer Richard Bean), and second by the Jimmy Castor Bunch.

Recall that with the Canal Zone in US hands and the Vietnam war raging, American servicemen (significant portions of whom were African American, Puerto Rican and Chicano) and American Radio were constant in Panama, especially for musicians whose musical antennae are always finely tuned. David Choy confirms that he played with many ethnic Americans in the Canal Zone, “mucho Boricua”, including the bassist of the mystery Panamanian funk/soul group Jungle Rat.

Skorpio released an excellent cover of the great Colombian bandleader Fruko’s oriza-rhythm “Manyoma” on Happy and then released a second LP (and a number of singles) on Tamayo entitled Santo de Barraza. That LP included the slinky bilingual Soul Cha Cha smoker “Sonia.” Noted as a “Salsa – Soul”, the song was written by Raúl Gallimore, brother of the Beachers famous organ player/bandleader Lloyd Gallimore:

Skorpio played live often in 1974-76, before the band split up in 1977.

After Skorpio, Choy played with groups called “Bandido” and “Sunset” in the Canal Zone, doing lots of Latin-flavored funk and rock covers. Unfortunately, neither group recorded. He went on to a fruitful career as composer and arranger in Panama and Latin America, and his compositions appear on Ruben Blades’ “La Rosa de Los Vientos” LP (1997).

Looking back, Skorpio were one of the high points (along with standout groups like The Exciters, The Silvertones, Los Fabulosos Festivals and Los Mozambiques) in the fantastic, unique fusions of Latin/Caribbean and North American musics that the brilliant Afro-Antillean and Mestizo youth of the Republic of Panama produced in the ’60s and ’70s.

Ultimately, Timbalero and bandleader Oscar de Leon prevailed in the fight for who could use the Los Mozambiques name going forward. In 1974 he signed with the Tamayo label, which had previously focused on pressing 45s of Música Típica. Founded by Colombian-born music impresario Rodrigo Escobar Tamayo – himself a talented composer and guitar player/singer of traditional Décimas – Tamayo records moved aggressively into the popular dance sound of the Combos Nacionales while smaller competitors such as Sally Ruth, Loyola foundered.

Tamayo was soon to release its first LP, Monumental Tamayo Vol. 1, a compilation of well known combos such as Bocas del Toro’s Los Beachers (who had a number of LPs under their belt already on the Loyola label), Oscar de Leon’s Los Mozambiques, and newer but up-and-coming combos like Combo Impacto, Los Arco Iris, Los Excelentes and La Ofensiva. Tamayo would go on to be the dominant label of the combos explosion of the mid to late 1970s.

Oscar de Leon got singers Trini Paye (who appears on the Monumental LP), Wilfredo Ingram and Carlos “El Grande” from Los Excelentes to record with Los Mozambiques. The band would remain guitar-led and musicians credited on the Noche de Cumbia LP released in 1975 on Tamayo include: Lorenzo Campbell and Alberto Dudley on Guitars, Leonardo Phlatts on bass, Olmedo Adames and Roberto Timaná on bongo and tumbadora respectively, Ruben Rodriguez on Sax, Joaquin Paredes on Trumpet, and Fran Olmedo Weber on Trombone.

The new horn section certainly sounded great on the Tamayo 45 “Noches de Amor”, with vocal by Paye:

As noted above, Carlos Martinez returned to record on the Noche de Cumbia LP, which included huge hits in “Los Barcos en La Bahia” and “El Niño y El Perro.” He also recorded a hot salsa 45 that would be a staple on Panamanian radio in “Conchita Ven” on the Mozambiques/Tamayo label:

In 1976-77 the younger brother of well known Panamanian bolero singer (and occasional montunero) Socrates Lazo joined Los Mozambiques, recording a nice guitar-led salsa tune in “El Criticón” that made some noise on Panamanian radio. The singer was Gabino Pampini (Armando Lasso), and he was destined for international fame:

Pampini’s vocal style is probably the greatest expression of the Panamanian salsa swing, full of playful improvisation and sabor. His biggest hit while still in Panama was the beautiful “La Luna y El Toro”, which he recorded with El Combo Impacto in the same time period. A cover of a Flamenco-based hit for the Spanish child singer Joselito, “La Luna y El Toro” was a big hit in Colombia and Perú, and audiences still ask for it at his concerts:

Pampini would record with Los Mozambiques again in 1977-78, including an excellent LP (Mozambiques – Pampini) that shows him and Oscar de Leon on the cover:

The LP features arrangements by the ever-salsoso Alexis “El Profe” Castillo and features the signature Mozambiques guitar-led sound (Lorenzo Campbell on guitar) on excellent tunes such as “Canto Para No Llorar”:

Oscar de Leon’s Mozambiques continued to have success in the late ’70s and into the early ’80s with singers Beny Romero and Arcadio Molinar, before the DJ sound systems killed the combos as a distinct movement.