Every year I get together with five or six of my high school buddies – as well as assorted spousal units and special guests – for a party at my friend’s alpaca farm just outside of a small town in southern Ohio.  Now this town is a good three-plus hours away from our alma mater, St. Vincent-St. Mary in Akron.  In fact, it’s a good distance from just about everything.  One of the running jokes on the morning after the party involves asking for the Sunday Times and a cup of Starbucks joe (although I’ve been told the frozen breakfast burritos at the mini mart are actually quite good).

But our relative isolation allows us to reflect, in a somewhat impaired manner, on all things Seventies.  And for me, of course, it’s all about the music – which is why I’m in charge of coming up with a five-hour playlist that draws from that awkward era between the hippies and the punks.

Several of the activities don’t require musical accompaniment.  There’s the shooting competition led by Officer Tony.  And then there’s the obligatory golf-like event organized by Fern, the honorary Mayor of Batavia.

But the main event of the weekend focuses on the making of sausage, using a century-old stuffer and several miles of entrails.  Over the years, this has become a highly synchronized activity involving wine, accompanying dishes, exotic spices, Seventies music and near-constant bitching from all of us about how much ground red pepper to put into the pork.  This bitching dissipates somewhat as the evening progresses – which is why we need special containers, originally designed for the nuclear industry, to hold the late-night sausage (note to self: rephrase that before posting).

Dazed and confused…

I thought that coming up with a playlist for this event would be fairly easy.  After all, I burned through what seemed like several thousand dollars in my youth buying albums by the Rolling Stones, the Allman Brothers Band, J.J. Cale, Little Feat, Taj Mahal, Steve Miller Band (before he was the Joker), Fleetwood Mac (before they were a joke), Savoy Brown, and so on.  Now I could’ve referenced other Seventies acts like prog-rockers Yes, King Crimson and Emerson, Lake & Palmer, and the ubiquitous city/state bands like Chicago, Boston, Kansas, Duluth, whatever… but I hate that shit – and unlike most other DJs, I don’t take requests.

I also could’ve mentioned the most iconic album (and image) of our high school years, “Dark Side of the Moon” by Pink Floyd. But that’s like saying the baseball game kicked off with the Star Spangled Banner.  It’s safe to say that no other generation has had such an omnipresent soundtrack.  Of course, this was back before the music industry was such a fragmented mess, when it was possible for huge masses of people to share the same musical tastes and sources.  I heard “Dark Side” so many times during the Seventies, both intentionally and otherwise, that I’m not sure I can work up a visceral reaction to it today.  I won’t question that it’s one of the most important musical achievements of the 20th Century.  Just don’t play it for me, ever again.

A lot of stuff I grooved on in the Seventies sounds pretty lame today.  I’ll start with the musical moment that defined every young man who came of age in that era – the arrival of Led Zeppelin’s first album in 1969.  How can that be, you ask?  Well, first, Led Zeppelin may have landed in ’69, but they rocked every high school kid in America in the early Seventies, period end of story.  And second, this is my blog, so I’ll pretend it was released a year later to make my point.  And that point is… oh yeah, lameness.

There are many moments of great power and majesty in Led Zep’s first – which completely altered my reality when Brother James’ friend Bill Austin first brought it over to the house, holding it carefully like the small explosive it was – but this next little number ain’t one of them… You Shook Me/Led Zeppelin

Everything up to that point actually works pretty well, but I just can’t get beyond Robert Plant yelping like some crazed, rabid blues hound in heat.  I’m reminded of a capsule review I once read about ”Apocalypse Now” – two hours of great drama, leading up to a cameo by Don Rickles.

A lot of other stuff on my playlist holds up much better.  And, once again, I’ll cheat a little – by picking an album that was recorded in late ’68.  I really don’t consider Taj Mahal’s “The Natch’l Blues” part of the Sixties anyway… it’s not the least bit psychedelic or mind-expanding, and the lyrics are fairly straightforward (except for something about painting a mailbox blue).  “The Natch’l Blues” is a rootsy collection of mostly blues-based songs – eight originals and four covers, and only one extended jam.  Taj is a triple threat with his gritty voice and perfect touch on harp and national steel.  But the album’s secret weapon may be guitarist Jesse Ed Davis – an American Indian from Oklahoma with an endless supply of slippery, soulful licks.  I’ve listened to this album regularly since it showed up on my radar screen in the early Seventies… hard to believe it was recorded more than 40 years ago. Going Up To The Country, Paint My Mailbox Blue/Taj Mahal

Another notable album from that era is “Live!” by Bob Marley and the Wailers, recorded on July 18, 1975, at the Lyceum Ballroom in London.  This was Marley’s third tour of England, and you can tell by the crowd response that he’d become a major phenomenon.  One of the great pleasures of the album is hearing this steady roar in the background – the same sound you typically hear at World Cup Soccer matches… in other words, the sound of many delirious people shouting and singing at the same time.  And, unlike some other live albums, it seems like the crowd’s quasi-religious fervor was more than warranted.  It may be one of Marley’s best performances, live or studio, and certainly better than some of the slick recordings he made late in his career.  Here’s the raucous opening to Lively Up Yourself… Lively Up Yourself/Bob Marley

I also have a weak spot for Steve Winwood and his band Traffic.  Winwood started his career (and might be ending it) as kind of a slavish interpreter of American soul.  Not to take away from tunes like Gimme Some Lovin’ and Roll With It, but I like the fact that in most of his work with Traffic, Winwood isn’t afraid to sound, well, British.  To my ears, early-Seventies classics like “John Barleycorn Must Die” and “The Low Spark of High Heeled Boys” sound very organic – what you’d expect when three hugely talented Brits hide out in a countryside cottage, experiment with god knows what and explore their own roots for a change.  It’s really genre-bending at its best – not quite jazz, not quite blues or folk, and certainly not sea chanteys… just an oddly familiar-sounding mix of influences that these guys seemed incapable of screwing up.  Here’s part of an extended jam that closes out “Low Spark”… Rainmaker/Traffic

None of the tunes on these albums would ever show up on a “Classic Rock” playlist.  But I’ll spare you from my usual rant about this dreadful format (if it were a form of torture, I’d cave right away).

Instead, I’ll use this opportunity to thank Mark, Francis, Sophie and Sadie for graciously welcoming the Mongol Horde from the North to their beautiful home in the country… by giving a shout-out to the Sausage Party regulars – wife Laura, Jim and Martha, Fern and Patty, Pat and Mary, Don and Donna, Tony, Mickey, and assorted hangers-on… and by leaving you with this quick list of a few other Superhits from the Early Seventies (or at least the version that would exist in a parallel universe).  I purposely left off my favorite funk and soul of the era – that’s a subject for another post.

A little gem from ZZ Top’s best album, “Tres Hombres” (released in 1973) – Low Rider meets the Texas Hill Country: Sheik/ZZ Top

Another great live album that I completely wore out, “The Allman Brothers At Fillmore East” (1971): Statesboro Blues/The Allman Brothers Band

I’m a proud veteran of the Rolling Stones’ 1972 concert at the Akron Rubber Bowl (yes, I was five years old), and this was the song of the summer: Tumbling Dice/The Rolling Stones

From Bonnie Raitt’s first, back in 1971 – still her bluesiest album: Finest Lovin’ Man/Bonnie Raitt

So much J.J. to choose from… Why not start at the beginning, “Naturally” (1971)? Crazy Mama/J.J. Cale

Before Rod became irrelevant, he fronted one of the great rock ‘n roll bands of all time… Also evidence that Ron Wood could play. Bad ‘N’ Ruin/Faces

Ry Cooder reinvents a song by zither-strumming evangelist Washington Phillips, from 1974’s “Paradise and Lunch”: Tattler/Ry Cooder

Still the greatest soundtrack album of all time – made even better with the “Deluxe Edition” treatment in 2003: The Harder They Come/Jimmy Cliff

On the video front, I’d love to post the party scene from the movie “Dazed and Confused.”  It’s almost as if the director, Richard Linklater, were a documentary filmmaker at half the parties I went to in high school.  Instead, I’ll offer this prime example of what ethnomusicologists have labeled “stoner rock,” featuring one of the great voices of the Seventies, Paul Rodgers.

In the early 1980s, I lived in Cincinnati and edited one of those free entertainment newspapers you see blowing through the streets of big cities throughout the country.  The following piece borrows heavily from an article I wrote back then about one of America’s greatest independent labels, King Records.  Its huge catalog includes seminal recordings by some of the most important artists of the Forties through the Sixties – ranging from the hard, lonesome sound of the Stanley Brothers to the heavy funk of James Brown.

A few notable events have occurred since I wrote the original article:  1) The city of Cincinnati got its act together and put up a historic marker in 2008 where King Records once operated (a good start); 2) Shad O’Shea, a former radio personality, studio owner and raconteur, passed away in June; and 3) the King catalog (minus James Brown’s recordings, which are owned by Polydor) is now being reissued, although in a somewhat haphazard manner, by Collectables Records.

A future post will focus on Cincinnati’s Fraternity Records – home of flame-throwing guitarist Lonnie Mack. 

King Records

In 1943, Cincinnati had become an industrial hub that attracted poor Appalachian whites, along with an already burgeoning population of blacks from the South.  Not only did both groups share the same jobs, they also shared an intense love of the regional music traditions they grew up with.  Syd Nathan must have realized this fact.  That same year, the asthmatic, near-sighted hustler closed the book on a series of dead-end jobs (wrestling promoter, park concessionaire, refrigerator salesman, record retailer) by founding his own record company, which eventually moved into a former icehouse at 1540 Brewster Ave. in the city’s Evanston neighborhood.

The origins of King Records coincided with the initial broadcasts of what later became Cincinnati’s answer to Nashville’s Grand Old Opry – WLW’s “Midwestern Hayride.”  And many of the artists that were featured on the Hayride eventually wound up on Nathan’s fledgling label.  Within a couple of years, King had become one of the most influential country labels nationwide, with a roster that included the likes of Grandpa Jones, Cowboy Copas, Moon Mullican, Hank Penny, Hawkshaw Hawkins, the Delmore Brothers and many others.  And most of it was pure, unfiltered country – a formula Nathan stuck with for most of the label’s existence.  Here’s a gospel-flavored number from 1960 by the legendary bluegrass duo the Stanley Brothers… Rank Stranger/The Stanley Brothers

Nathan didn’t just stop there, though.  During the early years he also released a number of records under the “race” category – a term used to describe records aimed specifically at blacks.  These records featured the citified sounds of jump blues and boogie-woogie, and are considered to be the forerunners of rock and roll.  Tiny Bradshaw, Eddie “Cleanhead” Vinson and Ike Turner all scored R&B hits with King, as did blues crooners such as Bull Moose Jackson and Ivory Joe Hunter.  Here’s one by Cleanhead, whose unique brand of risque rhythm always seemed to find its way onto a barroom jukebox… Sittin On It All The Time/Eddie “Cleanhead” Vinson

You get the idea… Nathan’s true forte, however, was his practice of covering country hits with R&B artists, and vice versa.  The York Brothers, a country duo that recorded for King in the late ‘40s and early ’50s, covered several of the era’s R&B hits and predated Sam Phillips’ work on Sun Records with Elvis Presley and Jerry Lee Lewis by several years.  Likewise, R&B acts such as Bull Moose Jackson and Wynonie Harris successfully re-recorded country hits by Wayne Raney and Moon Mullican, among others.  Wynonie scored a hit in 1951 by covering a tune recorded the previous year by Hank Penny (the tune also has been covered by western swingers Asleep at the Wheel, which makes sense, and rocker Pat Benatar, which makes no sense at all).

Bloodshot Eyes/Wynonie Harris

And here’s the flip side of the equation as the “King of the Hillbilly Piano Players,” Moon Mullican, cuts loose with a number by R&B bandleader Tiny Bradshaw… Well Oh Well/Moon Mullican

Although Nathan’s intentions were not totally artistic (he only covered hits by his own artists, which he owned all publishing rights to), his musical juggling act earned him a reputation as an innovator.  “Syd had a number of theories when it came to recording” said Col Jim Wilson, a salesman and, later, executive V.P. who worked with Nathan from King’s inception until 1965.  “He once said, ‘Give me the material, and I’ll find the artist,’ so he placed great emphasis on that.  At the same time, he always seemed to find artists with very distinct and readily identifiable styles.  Every King artist was unique in one way or another.”

Wilson, who eventually joined Starday Records in Nashville and helped orchestrate the purchase of King, also gave a lot of credit to the facilities themselves.  “King’s studio was the first of its kind in the country.  Recording, mastering, plating, printing, pressing and shipping were all done in the same building.  You could cut a record at night, and the next day it would be in the hands of a local DJ.”

At first, Nathan separated the R&B from King’s mainstay, country, by using different labels such as “Queen,” “Federal” and “De Luxe” for his race records.  In the ‘50s, however, he combined all of his acts under the King label, with greater emphasis on black R&B.

The first acts to score big for King in the ‘50s were the vocal groups – the Dominoes (featuring Clyde McPhatter), the Charms (later Otis Williams and the Charms) and the Midnighters (later Hank Ballard and the Midnighters).  Sixty Minute Man, the Dominoes’ Number 1 hit in 1951 that featured the refrain “I rock ‘em, roll ‘em all night long,” is considered by some to be the first true rock and roll record. Sixty Minute Man/The Dominoes

Midnighters’ hits such as Sexy Ways, Work With Me Annie and Annie Had a Baby made many listeners blanch with their sexually suggestive lyrics, but still worked their way up the charts.  As a bandleader, Hank Ballard later broke through with the classic party singles Finger Poppin’ Time and Let’s Go, Let’s Go, Let’s Go – both from 1960.

The jump blues of the late ‘40s led to the early rock and roll instrumentals of the ‘50s, such as organist Bill Doggett’s Honky Tonk – one of those perfect songs that should be pre-loaded on every iPod.

Nathan also unearthed the raw talents of Little Willie John (of Fever fame) and Little Esther, who went on to even greater success as Esther Phillips.  Listen to Little Willie tear it up on this cut from 1960… You Hurt Me/Little Willie John

“Commercial black music was born in Cincinnati,” said Shad O’Shea, a local radio personality who also ran Counterpart Creative Studios.  “Nathan was a true originator.  He was responsible for making black music available to whites.  Berry Gordy (of Motown), who gets a lot of the credit, simply prostituted a lot of the black R&B by ‘sweetening’ it up for white tastes.”

King also released singles and albums by some of the era’s top blues artists – including John Lee Hooker (who recorded as “Texas Slim” on King’s Federal subsidiary and “Johnny Lee” on De Luxe), Johnny “Guitar” Watson, Champion Jack Dupree, Albert King and Freddie King.  Freddie’s sides are among the most unique and satisfying in the King catalog – especially his “surf-blues” instrumentals that clearly informed a young Eric Clapton (who recorded a spot-on version of Hide Away with John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers).  I highly recommend all of Freddie’s recordings on King, but decided to feature this wild instrumental workout from 1950 by Hooker, who sounds like he’s bashing out the first power chords ever caught on wax! Slim’s Stomp/Texas Slim (John Lee Hooker)

King’s ace in the hole, though, was a young black dynamo from Augusta, GA, who recorded his first single at the Brewster Ave. studio in 1956.  Please, Please, Please laid the groundwork for the remarkable career of “Soul Brother Number 1” – James Brown. Please, Please, Please/James Brown

Although Brown’s early records for King eventually became R&B and funk classics with their gritty, unabashed drive, they couldn’t compete on the pop charts with more polished efforts by artists such as the Platters and the Coasters.  One of the reasons for Brown’s relative holding pattern in the late ‘50s and early ‘60s may have been that King Records, already beyond its heyday by the turn of the decade, was unable to promote an artist of Brown’s stature.  Whatever the reason, Brown ended up in a tense legal tug-of-war with Nathan and his label, resulting in him being given complete artistic control of his recordings by 1965 – virtually unheard of at that time.  And that same year, Brown took off with the song that made him an international phenomenon – Papa’s Got a Brand New Bag. Papa’s Got a Brand New Bag/James Brown

Brown continued with King through the ‘60s, even after Nathan’s death of a heart attack in 1968.  The label was eventually sold to Starday in Nashville, and Brown went on to form his own record production company with distribution handled by Polydor.

Today, the city of Cincinnati is finally recognizing one of its greatest contributions to the rest of the world.  Hopefully, the city’s true faithful will keep that legacy alive by succeeding in their efforts to build a new studio and King Records museum near the former icehouse on Brewster Avenue.

Another Christmas gift from Rubber City Review… Want to dance like J.B.?  As Brother Jack would say, there is help.

OK, I couldn’t resist adding some Freddie to the end of this… Enjoy! Walk Down the Aisle (Honey Chile)/Freddie King

‘Tis the season for holiday music playlists.  As “the guy who collects music,” I’ve received a number of Christmas-mix CDs over the years from friends, co-workers and family members.  And, sad to say, not all of them are good.  I usually come across a few smooth-jazz versions of Christmas favorites that always seem to start with those annoying wind chimes – probably twisting in the foul breeze coming from a nagging soprano sax over a faux-funky beat.  But don’t take that as another rant from someone hardened by the holidays.  I dig the classics by Frank, Dino, Bing and Ella.  And I get a little teary-eyed when I hear Nat King Cole crooning over the loud-speaker system at Best Buy.  Having said that (anyone watch “Curb Your Enthusiasm”?), I tend to prefer holiday tunes that don’t sound like they’d get beat up in the rougher neighborhoods of my iPod.  In other words, I like to hear “the root” in there somewhere, even if the root is a 14^th Century Bulgarian Peasant March (checking wikipedia on that one).  With this in mind, I’m proud to join the staff and Board of Directors at Rubber City Review to offer you this special gift for Christmas – a “sampler” of our favorite holiday tunes.  So stoke the fire, sit back and stir your nog with this meaty yule log of seasonal joy…

I guess it wouldn’t be Christmas without Elvis crooning his way through some seasonal standard.  And I had a hard time choosing among my favorite Elvis Christmas songs.  But I settled on Here Comes Santa Claus, because it seems to have a rockabilly rhythm even without the King – and I can’t resist a perfectly placed “well-a-well-a” in an otherwise hum-drum holiday song.  So slap this little nugget on the stereo as you prepare a nice meal of fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches for your family this Christmas… It’s a great way to remember the man who thought of it first. Here Comes Santa Claus/Elvis Presley

A couple of posts ago I waxed poetic about the mighty Hammond B3 organ.  You can find a wide range of recordings by the master of the B3, Jimmy Smith – big band, small combo, blues, gospel, pop – so it shouldn’t surprise you that his 20-page discography includes a pretty fine holiday collection called “Christmas Cookin’.”   Here Smith joins guitarist Quentin Warren to roast Santa’s chestnuts (well, maybe slow-boil them) in the warm, soulful sound of the classic organ combo.  If I were making the rounds on Christmas Eve, I’d stop at Jimmy’s Place and go no further. Santa Claus is Coming to Town/Jimmy Smith

What is it about an ethereal harp playing a classic Christmas song?  And no, I’m not talking about the innards of a piano.  I’m talking about the Mississippi saxophone as played by one of its greatest practitioners – Charlie Musselwhite.  Charlie bends a few notes that I didn’t know you could bend on a basic diatonic harmonica, and even manages to throw in that big, throaty vibrato you tend to hear more often on songs about murder and prison rather than odes to virgins and shepherds.  But it works… because there’s nothing more soulful than a big man alone with his blues harp (and maybe a bottle or two) on Christmas. Silent Night/Charlie Musselwhite

When I was a kid, my friend’s dad got all liquored up and stole a Christmas tree out of the parking lot of Montgomery Ward (which has since gone out of business, so I can finally speak out about this).  It’s a sad story with kind of a happy ending – after all, the family did have a tree for Christmas.  But it reminds me of another cautionary tale about what happens when the old man pours a little too much rum in his nog.  And this one comes to us from Commander Cody, a guy who knows a thing or two about the dangers of Old Demon Alcohol (he was banned from Letterman for getting trashed, and his last album was titled “Dopers, Drunks and Everyday Losers”). Daddy’s Drinking Up Our Christmas/Commander Cody and his Lost Planet Airmen

Even junkie be-boppers like Christmas songs.  Take Charlie Parker, who once said that jazz was all about “playing clean and hitting the pretty notes.”  Well if that’s the case, what better vehicle for a giant of jazz than White Christmas, which certainly has more than its fair share of pretty notes.  This take was recorded in 1948 at the Royal Roost night club in New York City – hardly the place where people went to hear Christmas carols.  But Bird tears into it like it’s Ko Ko or Donna Lee or any other original he came up with to showcase his legendary chops on alto sax.   For the few be-bop hipsters remaining on the planet, this is the only White Christmas that matters! White Christmas/Charlie Parker

Here’s a little tip for those of you who play in bar bands:  learn a Christmas song that you won’t be embarrassed to play.  Our band learned this next one in about 15 minutes – and that included 10 minutes of arguing.  Which is not to say it’s a piece of fluff.  In fact, it’s a towering achievement by Emery Williams Jr., better known as Detroit Junior.  A native of Arkansas, Williams began his career as a journeyman blues piano player in Flint, Michigan, and eventually landed in Chicago, where he cut a single for Chess and played in Howlin’ Wolf’s band for seven years.  He passed away in 2005, but left us this holiday classic that practically howls with Christmas joy. Christmas Day/Detroit Junior

I like a lot of space in my music, so I was never a big fan of the Phil Spector “Wall of Sound” treatment –  which I guess includes Bruce Springsteen (sorry, Gary!).  But let’s face it, the holiday season is not a very subtle time of year.  And even though Spector throws the kitchen sink and several other fixtures into this one, he still manages to preserve the majesty of ex-wife Ronnie’s voice, which seems to exist somewhere between the playground and the red light district.  Sure, you could speculate whether “Frosty the Snowman” is code for something far more nefarious… But I’d rather take this one at face value and assume Phil and Ronnie had a nice, uneventful Christmas that year. Frosty the Snowman/The Ronettes

At this point you may be asking, what’s your favorite holiday song?  (Hey, you stuck with me this far!)  Here’s one I have no problem listening to all year round.  Led by Cissy Houston (mother of some up-and-comer named Whitney), the Sweet Inspirations were the back-up singers of choice for artists ranging from Aretha Franklin and Wilson Pickett to Elvis Presley and Van Morrison.  This cut was recorded in 1969 at the fabled Muscle Shoals Sound Studio and features the deep southern soul of Eddie Hinton on guitar.  It’s an American classic by any measure, but sounds especially sweet this time of year.  Merry Christmas, y’all! Every Day Will Be Like A Holiday/The Sweet Inspirations

Amazon.com Widgets

Brother James is a fine-art photographer based in St. Augustine, FL.  Since 1999, he has had unusual access to the people and places of Cuba.  Often riding in the sidecar of an old Russian motorcycle driven by his friend and fellow photographer, José (Pepe) Martí, James has documented Cuban life in small towns and rural areas few Americans get to visit.  Photos from a trip to Baracoa in 2004 appeared in “Shared Vision,” a cross-cultural project partially funded through the National Endowment for the Arts.  Two of those photos appear in this post, along with others that have appeared in art galleries and traveling exhibits in the U.S. and Cuba.  James provides some context with a little commentary under each image – as well as a few well-placed audio clips, of course.

J.Q.: This photo appeared in the traveling exhibition “Viajeros: North American Artist/Photographers Working in Cuba,” sponsored by Lehigh University.  I took this photo at the only gas station in Baracoa, on the far eastern end of Cuba… sort of a community center/restaurant/local hangout, and one of the few modern buildings in town.

Baracoa is the oldest city in Cuba – Christopher Columbus landed here on his first voyage west – and its remote location helps keep the tourists away.  This is the Catedral Nuestra Senora de la Asuncion, which houses the Cruz de la Parra, a cross that Columbus supposedly brought with him.  Local men hang out on the steps of the cathedral all day, every day, just to shoot the shit.

The eastern part of Cuba gave birth to nengon, a rural style of music and the first form of Cuban “son,” which is the foundation of modern salsa music.  Nengon originally featured the tres – a three-string Cuban guitar used to play drum-like rhythms – as well as the tingotalango, which is sort of a primitive bass.  Here’s a modern version of nengon by Madera Limpia, a band of young musicians from Guantanamo that’s firmly rooted in the Cuban tradition: Nengon/Madera Limpia

I came across this very stylish couple, Wilky and Adelaida, in a bar in Old Havana.  They’re a salsa-dancing duo, well known in Havana for the shows they put on at local clubs.  And they’re always dressed to the nines, even when they’re not performing.  Adelaida is the granddaughter of the great Cuban conguero Chano Pozo, who toured and recorded with Dizzy Gillespie until 1948, when he was killed in a Harlem bar fight at the young age of 33.  Pozo co-wrote Manteca – one of many Latin-based tunes Dizzy recorded over the years: Manteca/Dizzy Gillespie

These two guys are planting tobacco in the province of Pinar del Rio on the western part of the island, the center of tobacco production.  The plants are cultivated in seed beds and then transplanted into the fields by these workers.  This is the high-quality stuff used to make the finest Cuban cigars.  Makes me want to hear the Queen of Salsa, Celia Cruz, sing the praises of Pinar del Rio… Me Voy A Pinar Del Rio/Celia Cruz

Here’s a well-known Santeria priestess in Jovellanos, located in Cuba’s Matanzas Province.  Jovellanos is a center of African culture and religion.  You can see a few African decorations in the priestess’ home.  Her granddaughter faces the pass-through to the kitchen, and a bag of herbs (probably for religious purposes) sits on the chair.  I like the different shades of pink in this shot.

The African influence in Cuba gave birth to rumba, another foundation of modern Latin music.  Rumba is all about percussion and rhythm, as you can hear on this cut from Bara-Rumba, an Afro-Cuban percussionist/dance troupe from Baracoa… Rumba Del Solar/Bara-Rumba

This Santeria priest cleansed me with a live chicken.  He rubbed it all over me and then killed it – supposedly to get rid of bad spirits.  I definitely felt better afterward.  That’s a beautiful piece of folk art in the background.

These two photos show the kind of cars that you typically see in Cuba – usually American models from the Fifties, caked with bondo and multiple layers of paint.  Cubans are very adept at keeping these cars in good working order and will cast parts from scratch if they need to.  The green car was photographed in Baracoa, and I found the red one in Old Havana… There’s no way to tell what the second car was to begin with, because it’s clearly morphed into something closer to a sculpture over the years.  I wanted a picture of the car, but I also wanted the human element, so I waited for someone to enter the frame.  I like how the woman’s pants complement the car.  Can’t find any good Cuban car songs, but here’s a Sixties band from Havana that was heavily influenced by American doo wop and surf guitar – Los Zafiros. Bossa Cubana/Los Zafiros

I took this photo at a bailable, or ball, in Matanzas Province during a festival.  The locals get all dressed up to dance to the danzon, a very formal and orchestrated form of Cuban music that was popular many years ago.  I like the expression on the woman’s face – very dignified… really something from another era.  Here’s an example of a danzon by the great Cuban composer and bassist, Israel “Cachao” Lopez… Isora Club/Israel “Cachao” Lopez

Most ordinary Cubans can’t afford to go into music clubs, so it’s not uncommon for folks to gather outside to listen to the music.  Here’s a mother and son, watching a trovador (Cuban singer-songwriter, or troubadour) playing in a Havana club.  I’ll close with this beautiful clip from a modern-day trovador, Pedro Luis Ferrer… Mariposa/Pedro Luis Ferrer