Changui Para La Pena

A self-styled Cuban original has produced what has to be one of the most satisfying tropical albums of 2005.  Also one of the best acoustic albums.  Though he now lives in Spain, Pedro Luis Ferrer remains loyal to the folksy changui music of the mountains of eastern Cuba, near Guantanamo.  Folksy, but no folklorist, Ferrer is a stylist in his own right, merging changui with son, trova, and coros de clavés, as suits his fancy.  He calls his unique blend changuisa, but all one really needs to know is that the sound is warm, bursting with vocal harmony, ever graced by Ferrer’s sure footed tres and guitar melodies, and all in all, deeply soulful.

The group has an unusual sound—jangly strings, robust vocal harmonies, the spare pop of hand percussion and the mysterious, deep thunk of the marimbula, a giant, Caribbean lamellophone.  The marimbula is but one of many overt African references in Ferrer’s music, and he makes a point to let listeners know that Africa comes to Cuba not only via black slaves, but also Spaniards who came to the island fresh from their centuries-long encounter with Moors during the Andalusian period.  The song “Changui Para la Pena (Changui for Sadness),” makes reference to the Moors in its lyrics, but also in its decidedly African tres arrangement, complete with striking flashes of a dark, Arabic scale.  From the African clavé feel of “Conga Vegeteriana (The Vegetarian Congo)” to the sweet, hipwise propulsion of “La Cumbanchera,” the African ambiance is pervasive throughout these 13, short, gem-like pieces. 

Ferrer’s clear booming voice rings out on its own here and there, but often, it’s the accent atop a fulsome vocal chorus.  His daughter, Lena Ferrer, sings throughout, including a number of leads, the best of which, “Nana Para Un Suspiro (Lullabye for a Sigh),” finds her father accompanying lovingly, and fabulously, on nylon-string guitar and bajo.  Lyric translations and fine sleeve notes provide insight into Ferrer’s playful sense of humor and rustic sophisticate mind.  This is a side of Cuban music every bit as worthy of global success as the elders of Buena Vista and the lions of timba.  But if that never comes, one has the feeling that Ferrer and his delightfully informal group won’t let it spoil their party for a minute. 

Contributed by: Banning Eyre