Stevie Ray and Jimmie Vaughan

Want to stare into the very depths of someone’s soul, or at least find out if a long drive together is a bad idea? A few of the following questions about music preferences might help. Beatles or Stones (which we covered here)… Jimmy Cliff or Bob Marley… Loretta Lynn or Tammy Wynette… Allman Brothers or Lynyrd Skynyrd… John Coltrane or Miles Davis… Radiohead or Coldplay… Captain or Tennille…

And don’t let your subject off the hook. If someone can’t take a stand either way, that just means he/she is unworthy of your trust.

I’ll throw another one into the mix – Stevie Ray or Jimmie Vaughan… The former, obviously, is one of the most celebrated guitarists of the last 30 years. A guitarist who, for better or worse, had an impact on virtually every blues-based stringbender who followed. A once-in-a-generation talent who might even be more popular dead than he was alive.

But put me down for Jimmie, and not because I didn’t have utmost respect for his brother. Like thousands of other students of the instrument, I made several pilgrimages to see SRV live and left convinced that I’d witnessed the Most Amazing, Death-Defying Act Under the Big Top. But Jimmie’s the guy you come across on your way to the parking lot… He’s sitting on the edge of a rail car playing gutbucket blues through a broke-dick amp as a few strippers and circus freaks slow-dance nearby. In other words, a little closer to the blues according to Charlie Patton and Robert Johnson.

Actually, one of the first times I heard Jimmie Vaughan’s guitar was back in ’81 at a strip joint in Newport, Kentucky – across the river from Cincinnati. Of course I was dragged there by my friends to see Miss Nude Memphis (which seemed slightly more promising than paying to see Miss Nude Paducah across the street). And I have to admit, Memphis didn’t disappoint. Most of the other girls danced to bad ‘80s rock, but the Memphis Belle whipped out The Fabulous Thunderbirds’ first album and what seemed like an entire vat of massage oil, and I’ve been a fan ever since – of Vaughan that is… not sure what happened to Belle, or the oil. Rich Woman

Eventually I caught Vaughan and the T-birds at a small club in Dayton. Even though the band went on to become a minor sensation in the mid-‘80s with songs like Powerful Stuff and Wrap It Up, they always seemed a little uncomfortable playing larger theaters and summer “sheds.” They were right at home in that Dayton dive, though… and I was a little worried at one point that Vaughan’s thick, smoky guitar would set off the club’s fire sprinklers. I’m a Good Man

Vaughan eventually left the T-birds behind – which I always respected because I’d already lost interest in the band when they torqued up their sound for a major label. And at least from a creative standpoint, his career as a solo artist has been far more rewarding than even I would’ve predicted.

First, we found out that he has a soulful and expressive voice – an instrument that he never used with the T-birds (granted, Kim Wilson is a tough act to follow). Here’s one of his early forays into lead singing: Love the World

He also had the extreme good taste to hire Bill Willis on organ and George Rains on drums.

Rains, Vaughan and Willis

Willis is a guy who clearly deserves his own blog post, having served as a staff bassist at King Studios and contributed to many of the label’s legendary recordings by James Brown, Freddie King, Little Willie John, Bill Doggett (responsible for one of the great instrumentals of all time, Honky Tonk) and many others. Here Willis lays down the low end for one of Freddie’s signature songs: I’m Tore Down

Willis eventually persuaded Doggett to show him a few tricks on organ, and he’s been ridin’ the B3 ever since, recording and performing with the likes of LaVerne Baker and Floyd Dixon. He does it Jimmy Smith-style, kicking out funky bass lines on the B3’s foot pedals. Here he locks in tight with Vaughan and Rains (and special guest Joe Sublett on sax) on a tune that recalls the glory years of the organ combo: Tilt A Whirl

Vaughan’s other secret weapon, Rains, should be considered a legend simply for joining the San Francisco lineup of the Sir Douglas Quintet back in ’68. The Texas expat helped made border-rock history on cuts like Mendocino and Nuevo Laredo before moving back to Austin and joining the city’s fertile blues scene back in the Seventies. Rains served as de facto house drummer for Clifford Antone’s record label and club, where he probably sat in with Vaughan more times than he can remember. Clearly, he never met a shuffle he couldn’t nail down tight: Kinky Woman

That’s the solid core Vaughan started with back in ’94 with his first solo release, “Strange Pleasure.” Everything else was gravy. Rich, tasty gravy. Gospel/doo-wop vocals, second guitar (including flamenco on one tune), vibes, sax… and one very dangerous blues mama, Lou Ann Barton, who adds plenty of spice to a few of Vaughan’s best moments as a solo artist: In the Middle of the Night

My favorite Vaughan album – “Do you get the blues?” – had the unfortunate distinction of being released on September 11, 2001. But it didn’t take me long to appreciate its many joys, which probably served as little subconscious reminders that all was not lost post-9/11. Let’s put it this way – it damn sure gave me more of a healing feeling than Charlie Daniels’ “This Ain’t a Rag, It’s a Flag.” I especially latched onto this soulful little number that finds Vaughan settling into a slow groove with his son, Tyrone, on rhythm. In fact, I’d like to hear more of Vaughan exploring that same sweet spot that his idol, Johnny “Guitar” Watson, found between blues and funk: Without You

Speaking of Watson, I’m not sure if anyone captures the bite and sass of that bluesy-funky sound better than Vaughan. Exhibit A: Motor Head Baby

Vaughan recently followed up on his fine 2010 release, “Plays Blues, Ballads & Favorites,” with “Plays More Blues, Ballads & Favorites.” OK, maybe not the most innovative marketing concept… but definitely more vintage Vaughan – smart, in-the-pocket blues-based goodness. And definitely a few cuts above your standard contemporary blues fare. Here’s a taste from the earlier release – a blazing instrumental that proves Vaughan is only getting better with age: Comin’ and Goin’

Vaughan live, with his tribute to brother Stevie Ray. Abrupt ending, but pretty sweet slice of JLV in action…

Just when you thought two-piece bands had run their course, into the sandbox jumps Husky Burnette. And yes, he’s part of the same bloodline that brought us Johnny and Dorsey Burnette (if you don’t know who those two guys are, you probably should head on back to Drunken Vegan right now). Husky calls Chattanooga home, but he’s currently on tour with his drummer Tony “Tonky Ponk” Jones supporting their new release on the Cracker Swamp label – “Facedown in the Dirt.” They take North Mississippi Hill Country blues, drag it through a few hollers, douse it with kerosene and blow it up real good (here’s a taste: Mile Marker 68). R.L. Burnside and Charlie Feathers would be proud… not to mention cousins Johnny and Dorsey. But rather than bore you with the many virtues of this fine effort, I thought I’d let the man speak for himself.

T.Q.: Almost found myself facedown last weekend, so I’m really enjoying the new album. Sounds like it was recorded live – thick, greasy and in your face. Fill us in on how you made it.

H.B.: The album was recorded at Fry Pharmacy Studios in Nashville, TN. 16-track tape machine, reel to reel, like the lord intended! It was done live off the floor which I love doing cause you get that “feeling,” as opposed to tracking it where you can’t play off of each other. Plus, there’s only two of us… with the exception of Zach Shedd on upright bass on two tracks. So if someone messes up just do the tune over, no big deal. Very comfortable place to record.

Leo Kottke famously described his singing as reminiscent of “geese farts on a muggy day”… How would you describe your voice?

I have no idea how to describe it. I’ve heard lots of things, but maybe too much greasy chicken, whiskey with a glass of nails chaser and cigarettes… and not enough training.

Johnny and Dorsey Burnette

I see you’re a third cousin of Johnny and Dorsey Burnette. I don’t hear too much of the rockabilly influence, but definitely some hillbilly. How did you get into the whole Hill Country dirty blues thing?

I was introduced to more modern (at the time, late-80s) Chicago and Texas-style blues by my Uncle Tim. So I decided to find exactly where that came from after hearing about other artists… And also after seeing who really wrote certain songs in liner notes, I went looking for those particular artists. Went as far back as Son House, Furry Lewis and Robert Johnson etc then eventually settled in a Hill Country style cause it made me move and stomp more than anything. Gotta love the stomp-trance style.

When it comes to primal, honest-to-god rock ‘n roll, the Johnny Burnette Trio is as good as it gets. Rumor has it Johnny started yelping during Paul Burlison’s guitar solos when he backed into one of Burlison’s lit cigarettes (Rockbilly Boogie)… Any truth to that rumor?

Man I have no clue. I seriously doubt it but how funny would that be? All these singers still doing it today all cause of a cigarette burn… haha. Truth is, I know nothing all that deep about them – only the stories I heard from my grandfather and his brothers (all first cousins to Johnny and Dorsey), from their father, and from my uncles Tim and Rick.

Love the opening to Preacher Man. Is that a nod to David Byrne (Once in a Lifetime), or did Byrne lift that rap from an actual sermon?

The preaching – that’s my last drummer, Dave Dowda, before I got Tony, my current drummer in the lineup. Before I even knew Dave I heard he would get drunk and “preach” 80s pop song lyrics like a baptist preacher (being from Lafayette, GA in the bible belt I guess he was too familiar with it). So I made him do it at certain shows as an intro and definitely wanted it for the recording. I still give a nod to Byrne though.

Taking potshots at preachers is a fairly dicey proposition in the Deep South (half my family is from Milledgeville, GA)… What’s your take on organized religion?

Well Tim, it’s kind of like that game, Just The Tip, Just For A Minute. Know what I mean? OK.

Interesting answer – and I have to say, I like how you southern boys roll (up here it’s “just for a second”)… You take it down a few notches on McCoy’s Blues. What’s the story behind that tune?

I actually wrote the song after hearing the troubles a close friend of mine, Roland McCoy, had just gone through before and during his divorce. I really dig that tune.

In another interview (with a far-less-important blog, no doubt), you mention that your van was almost run over by another band’s tour bus… Would you like to expand on that?

We played Chicago last year a day before Exodus and Malevolent Creation. The club told us to crash there for two nights and watch the shows, so we went roaming around and sightseeing during the daytime. While out I had two people calling and calling and calling and raising hell saying the Exodus bus driver was about to physically move my van with their bus. I guess I was parked too close to load-in. It was a huge ordeal cause I couldn’t get back to the club for an hour or two and my cell phone was dying. I love Exodus though. Not that juicy of a story though…

More lost treasures for your listening pleasure…

Born and bred in New Orleans, Champion Jack Dupree was more of a barrelhouse blues piano player than a second-line syncopater (although his ode to the loaded lifestyle, Junker’s Blues, was repurposed by Fats Domino in his signature song, The Fat Man). Dupree recorded for many labels under a number of aliases, but he stopped by King Records long enough to record a minor classic in ‘55, “Sings the Blues.” The title’s actually a little misleading, since Dupree seems to favor the talkin’ blues on this outing. And on a few cuts, the talk’s a little cheap (never the most subtle guy, the former pugilist liked to mimic harelips and stutterers). But the music throughout is first-rate, with Dupree accompanied on several tunes by George “Harmonica” Smith and the great Mickey Baker on guitar. A few used copies are still floating around – snap one up before they’re gone. The Blues Got Me Rockin’

Jazzman Joe Farrell cut his teeth playing hard-bop, bringing his bold sound on sax, flute and oboe to sessions with Charles Mingus, Jaki Byard and Elvin Jones in the ‘60s. But he’s probably best known for a series of more laid-back albums he recorded for the CTI label from 1970 to 1976 – that, and being an original member of fusion powerhouse Return to Forever. Although long out of print, Farrell’s CTI debut is the high point in a distinctive career that eventually crash-landed due to years of drug abuse. The band on this session is hard to beat – Chick Corea on keyboards, John McLaughlin on guitar, Dave Holland on bass and Jack DeJohnette on drums. And thankfully, the emphasis is on soulful, exploratory jazz rather than pop-flavored fluff.  Here’s the definitive version of a stunning original by McLaughlin: Follow Your Heart

If you were completely oblivious to Latin music back in 1997, you still probably knew about the Grammy-winning Buena Vista Social Club album – Ry Cooder’s love letter to Cuban music. But several other worthy releases helped pave the way for that project, including Alfredo Rodriguez’s excellent “Cuba Linda.” Recorded at Havana’s legendary Egrem studio only months before Cooder and company made history there, “Cuba Linda” brought together seasoned pros like trumpeter Jesús Alemañy (Cubanismo!) and conguero Tata Güines with the joyful sound of Cuban street singers and percussionists. Pianist Rodriguez made his name playing in New York City’s fertile jazz scene and went on to record and perform Latin jazz in Paris. But here he gets back to his musical roots with a slow-building rumba. “The piano is not an instrument for playing rumbas,” Rodriguez points out in the liner notes. I beg to differ. Cuba Linda

Guitarist Duke Levine works so far behind the scenes, he doesn’t even merit a bio on allmusic.com. But he seems to have no shortage of work as a touring musician and session player, having performed with mostly folk-based artists including Shawn Colvin, Mary Chapin Carpenter, Bill Morrissey, Slaid Cleaves and many others. At heart, though, he’s an old-school country guit-picker who can flat-out play. Released in ’94 on Daring Records, Levine’s all-instrumental solo album “Country Soul Guitar” arrived exactly as billed – featuring some funky originals (Soul Miner) and several fine re-workings of deep soul and country nuggets (Arthur Alexander’s Mr. John, Bob Dylan’s Nashville Skyline Rag). Here Levine blazes his way through a tune written by pedal steel innovator Bud Isaacs (of Webb Pierce’s Slowly fame): Bud’s Bounce

We covered Snooks Eaglin pretty well several posts back. But I’m still curious why his Imperial recordings remain missing in action. Featuring some of New Orleans’ best players – including the “Bayou Maharajah,” pianist James Booker – these tunes frame Snooks’ soulful voice and nasty leads in some classic Crescent City arrangements, courtesy of Rock Hall of Famer Dave Bartholomew. The sessions were recorded from 1960 to 1963, only a few years after musicologist Harry Oster took a stab at recasting Snooks as a folkie wielding an acoustic guitar (on the fairly listless Folkways album “New Orleans Street Singer”). So the more rockin’ Imperial sides might’ve suffered from unrealistic expectations. Still, that doesn’t mean they should be relegated to the long list of buried American treasures – a fate that’s hard to accept when you hear Snooks and Booker going toe-to-toe on this slow burner: C.C. Rider

Great harmony singing is all the proof I need of a higher force. Put the Gideon’s back in the bedside table – just give me the Stanley Brothers, the Louvins, the Everlys, Dan Hicks & His Hot Licks, Gillian Welch and David Rawlings, Buddy and Julie Miller… And let’s not forget Tim and Mollie O’Brien on one of my favorite (and for the purposes of this post, hard to find) albums, “Take Me Back.” The O’Brien siblings hail from Wheeling, WV. They eventually moved on to join the fertile music scene in and around Boulder, CO. Now Tim’s a Nashville A-lister, valued for his songwriting, harmony singing and hot picking on guitar, mandolin, banjo, bouzouki, fiddle… basically any stringed instrument he grabs. And Mollie’s going strong in Denver with husband/musical partner Rich Moore (they released a solid, bluesy album in 2010, “Saints & Sinners” – check it here). But take me back to these heavenly harmonies: Leave That Liar Alone

Over the past four decades, some 50 musicians have blown through the swingin’ doors of New England’s mighty Roomful of Blues. The band released their 16th album earlier this year on Alligator Records, “Hook, Line & Sinker.” I’m sure it’s another fine blend of Kansas City swing and rockin’ blues. But my favorite albums by Roomful are the first two featuring Duke Robillard on guitar and vocals along with silky sax player Rich Lataille – the only remaining member of the original lineup. Their debut is fairly easy to find, but the band’s impressive follow-up, 1979′s “Let’s Have a Party,” is only available on their website. Here’s a Duke original with his typically fine fretwork and a horn section for the ages. Stickin’ With You

Champion Jack live – playing one of his originals on a French TV show, probably in the ’60s. OK, Otis Spann he ain’t, but he knew how to put up a good fight.

Duke Levine (standing) live at Banjo Jim’s in NYC, with Kevin Barry on 2nd guitar… Friggin’ showoffs!

The brave new world of digital music. Millions of songs available through subscription services like MOG and Spotify. Immediate ownership of any song you like through iTunes and Amazon. What more could a self-respecting music nerd want? Well, maybe a few of my favorite albums, for starters.

I’m not sure why some of these titles never made it to iTunes and then on to “The Cloud,” as the web monks call it. Maybe a sinister cabal of editors at Pitchfork decided they weren’t hip enough to save for posterity. Maybe they needed more bandwidth for the next 25 indie acts from Brooklyn and Portland they hope to break tomorrow.

For whatever reason, these albums remain lost in the cloud. I think it’s time to bring them back. And I’m asking you, my faithful readers, to a) find out who runs the interwebs and 2) demand that these masterworks be given their rightful place in the sky, where they can be dutifully ignored by future generations of coastal hipsters.

Case in point: The “5” Royales. A few posts back, we sang the praises of this groundbreaking band that inspired a host of rock and soul acts that followed – from James Brown to The Mamas & The Papas (who covered the Royales’ Dedicated to the One I Love). Last month, legendary Stax-Volt session guitarist Steve Cropper showed some love for the band by releasing “Dedicated,” a fitting tribute to the Royales and their flame-throwing axeman Lowman Pauling. Nice stuff… but still not in the same league as the originals. Now go to your favorite music subscription service and try to find The “5” Royales. I came up with four on mine, and that didn’t include this juicy slab of gospel-flavored R&B: Get Something Out Of It

Bluesman John Hammond Jr. has recorded more than 30 albums throughout his career, starting with his first release on Vanguard back in ’62. Should every one of those albums be available on Rhapsody? Why not? They certainly have everything John Mayer ever crapped out… And although Hammond is fairly well-represented – from the best of his Vanguard tracks to his modern blues classic “Wicked Grin” – you won’t be able to find another one of my favorites: “Can’t Beat the Kid.” Side one on the album is a full-band session featuring Muscle Shoals regulars Eddie Hinton on guitar (who also served as producer), Spooner Oldham on piano and Roger Hawkins on percussion. Side two is Hammond alone with his guitar and harmonica – which sounds like a full band compared to most other solo acts. Here’s Hammond and band burning through a funky little number written by Steve Cropper and Otis Redding: Groovin’ Time

Although far from well-known, Spanish flamenco guitarist Gerardo Nunez deserves our attention based on the merits of another lost gem, “Calima.” The album was released in ’98 on Alula Records, which might help explain why it quickly disappeared. Allmusic.com gives it 4 ½ stars, with reviewer Tom Schulte noting that “Nunez’s jazz-tempered Andalusian flamenco is passionate, highly developed and instantly rewarding to the listener.” I especially like the fiery interplay between Nunez and Panamanian jazz pianist Danilo Perez, responsible for another fine album from the ‘90s – “Panamonk,” a Latin-flavored tribute to Thelonious Monk. “Calima” casts its spell every time I hear it… a wonderful melding of ancient and modern influences. You can find a new copy on Amazon for $136.90. Calima

If you think you don’t know Wynn Stewart, just recall a ubiquitous Jetta commercial from last year that featured his song Another Day, Another Dollar. Here are three reasons why I think Stewart’s hugely underrated: 1) One of the great country singers of the Fifties and Sixties; 2) Had the good sense to hire Merle Haggard as his bass player and write his first hit, Sing a Sad Song; and 3) Helped define the Bakersfield Sound that still serves as the gold standard for honky tonkers everywhere – including Dwight Yoakam, who covered Stewart’s song Playboy. And why are only a handful of his songs available on iTunes (and definitely not his best stuff)? 1) Too country for Kenny Chesney fans; 2) Need more bandwidth for complete Rascal Flatts catalog; and 3) They’re friggin’ idiots? More evidence that this gross injustice needs to be addressed, now: Three Cheers for the Loser

Eddie “Cleanhead” Vinson is one of my favorite practitioners of that great lost American art form known as jump blues. That voice – especially that tortured squeal he’d often use at the end of a line to put a little chill down your spine. That wailing alto sax. And those songs, all classics in my estimation: Kidney Stew Blues, Juice Head Baby, Old Maid Boogie, Queen Bee Blues… Shouldn’t a notable session from ’57 that captures Vinson and several Count Basie Band alumni tearing through a few jump-blues classics be celebrated as a national treasure? Well, first you’d have to find it. Good luck… And while you’re searching, enjoy this sizzling cut from “Cleanhead’s Back in Town”: Is You Is Or Is You Ain’t My Baby

One of the more stunning examples of online neglect involves Cajun rocker Claiborne Joseph Cheramie – aka Joe Clay. I’d put Clay right up there with the most dangerous rockabilly cats of the ‘50s, including the Johnny Burnette Trio, Gene Vincent and Billy Lee Riley. For a relative unknown, he had a fairly remarkable career, having appeared on the Ed Sullivan Show (where he was asked not to play his hair-raising Duck Tail) and shared the stage with Elvis on the Louisiana Hayride. But Clay’s real claim to fame involved some blistering sides that he recorded for RCA in Houston and New York City. The latter session included the legendary Mickey Baker on guitar, but I think I prefer the more primitive stylings of guitarist Hal Harris on the Houston cuts (including the one sampled here). Clay was driving a school bus in New Orleans when he was “rediscovered” in the mid-‘80s by a British rockabilly fanatic. Maybe we should put the same guy in charge of the web, where Clay remains largely ignored. Goodbye, Goodbye

In this post, we shared some essential tunes by the original Fleetwood Mac, featuring the otherworldly talents of guitarist/harp player/singer Peter Green. Thankfully, most of those recordings can be found online. But you’ll have to search a lot harder to find material that the band recorded between the Green era and the chart-topping years of the mid-‘70s. Certainly the band was making the transition from its blues-based sound to the more radio-friendly realm of L.A. singer/songwriters. But there’s a lot to like from Fleetwood Mac’s so-called lost years. Take the title cut from their ’72 release Bare Trees or this churning workout from ‘70s “Kiln House” featuring a holdover from the Green-led band, guitarist and singer Danny Kirwan: Station Man

I’ll close with another nod to cousin Robert Quine, who serves as the very definition of “lost in the cloud.” Granted, he made his reputation largely as a sidekick, contributing some highly original (and often seriously deranged) guitar licks to albums by Lou Reed, Richard Hell, Tom Waits, Marianne Faithfull, Matthew Sweet and many others. But he recorded some haunting, atmospheric music under his own name, working with collaborators like fellow stringbender Jody Harris and percussionist Fred Maher. Like Rob himself, these recordings never got the recognition they deserved, which also means they may never make the transition to that otherwise massive digital library right at your fingertips. Here’s Rob’s moody tribute to the place he called home for much of his life, NYC’s East Village: Village

I’ve got a lot more long-lost albums where these came from… How about you?

This video has nothing to do with our post… Just thought I should share it with you. Special thanks to The Coppertone for turning me on to this guy:

If you spend any amount of time following our blog, you’ll know we’re a little nutty about boogaloo. Can’t get enough of that Latin soul as practiced by Joe Cuba, Willie Bobo, Pete Rodriguez, Joe Bataan and many other masters of the form. So naturally we were excited to find out about “We Like It Like That: The Story of Latin Boogaloo,” a new documentary directed by NYC filmmaker and writer Mathew Ramirez Warren. Here’s a preview:

Our excitement turned to concern when we found out that the director was short of his goal of raising $15,000 through the Kickstarter online funding site – money that would be used to complete the film for release to major film festivals, PBS and eventual release to theaters and DVD (at the end of this post, we’ve included a link to the Kickstarter site where our more generous readers can contribute to the project). But first, let’s talk to Mr. Warren about his film and the music behind it (hit this if you want a boogaloo soundtrack to read by):

TQ: As you might guess from our two recent posts on boogaloo, RCR can’t wait to see the final product. What made you decide to fund the film’s release through Kickstarter?

MRW: I like Kickstarter because it allows the fans of the music to get involved with the project and express their desire to see the film come out. In return we offer those fans who choose to support the film the opportunity to receive cool gifts like copies of the DVD, a poster, t-shirts and even autographed photos from artists like Joe Bataan. It is really nice to have a platform like Kickstarter that allows people to pursue independent projects and not be entirely dependent on funding the project through grants or corporate backing.

Loved the preview… Looks like you interviewed all the right people. Who were your favorites?

Thank you. I loved interviewing all of the subjects, each one brought their own perspective to the story and I am truly thankful for their willingness to share their thoughts and experiences with me on camera.

What were some of the best sources for archival footage?

I sort of view this like a music producer who doesn’t want people to know what record he sampled, or a collector not wanting the word to get out about their favorite hidden record spot, but I will say this, finding archival images, especially footage of Latin boogaloo, was very difficult because very little has survived.

You’re a native New Yorker. What was your first exposure to boogaloo? Were you able to sneak in a few clubs and catch guys like Joe Cuba and Pete Rodriguez doing their thing?

Unfortunately, I missed the boogaloo craze by quite a few years, I am 29 years old. Though I was exposed to Latin music growing up, I didn’t really discover boogaloo till about 10 years ago when I started DJing and collecting records. I would find these boogaloo records in used record stores and flea markets and they just blew my mind because they were so New York. I wanted to know more about them.

Lots of theories about the downfall of boogaloo in the early ‘70s – political pressure from old-school salseros, booking agents, Fania Records, etc… What’s your take on it?

In the film we try and pose all sides. Some feel it was a conspiracy against the boogaloo bands because they were taking too much attention and money away from the established bands, some feel it was because boogaloo wasn’t considered worthy of the Latin music tradition, some think it was a fad that just died out, some say the change in political and social consciousness led to a greater appreciation for more traditional sounds, others say it was a shift in focus by the record industry to cater to a South American audience. I like to present all these theories and let people come to their own conclusion. In my opinion I think it was probably a combination of all these factors.

Which tunes from the glory years of boogaloo really strike a chord with you?

Too many to list, but I will say I love all the albums by Johnny Colon, Joey Pastrana and Joe Bataan. Really worth checking out is Louie Ramirez’s “In the Heart of Spanish Harlem” and Ralph Robles’ “Was Here.” I also have to show my man Harvey Averne some love as well. To tell you the truth I could go on and on.

Obviously we’re experiencing a boogaloo resurgence, especially among vinyl collectors. But it’s not just about a few DJs spinning old records. You’ve also got contemporary bands like Grupo Fantasma and the Spam Allstars keeping the spirit alive. Anyone else you particularly like?

Gotta give it up to Spanglish Fly, New York’s top contemporary boogaloo band, who are generously offering a download of their EP “Latin Soul and Bugalú” to anyone who makes a donation of $10 on Kickstarter.

You do a fair amount of writing for The New York Times and Wax Poetics magazine… Are you ready to ditch the writing gig to become a full-time filmmaker, or will you always be a working journalist?

I definitely like doing both and wouldn’t want to resign myself to just doing one or the other.

I think the Rubber City is a little behind the boogaloo curve… Any advice for us, beyond mandatory viewing of your film in local schools?

For those who do not necessarily have the time to spend their days hunting down rare vinyl or coughing up a lot of money on ebay, there are a lot of good boogaloo compilations that have been put over the last few years by Fania and lots of other record labels (note: check our picks at the end of this post), as well as tons of boogaloo songs on youtube, so the music is out there for anyone who wants to listen.

Show a little love for Mathew’s project by making a small donation here. We’ll close with another video – this one featuring modern-day boogaloo masters Spanglish Fly: