Timba, Dinero y Los Reparteros
by Kevin Mastro - August 2004

In August of 2004, I conducted an interview with Gustavo Erik Jones, the 29-year-old músical director of the funky new timba group, HavanaWay. The group, only five months old at the time, was already making a name for itself. I knew Gustavo was very knowledgeable about music in general, but it was his insight and ability to clearly convey his view on why things are the way they are, in regards to Cuban popular music, that I wanted to get on paper because nobody else was talking about it. The interview began normally as we sat on the curb in front of his house in Marianao. But after the usual questions about background and influences, the interview took a dark turn, and I got more then I bargained for, as will you.

Kevin Maestro: How did you start in music?

Gustavo Jones: My father was singer and founder of the group Los Feelings. When I was very young, during vacation I would go with my father to work. At 14 or 15, I began playing bongo and bell, then at 19 I started to learn piano. Since my father was the music director, I learned the business side as well. I was working as utilero [“roadie”] carrying equipment at this time and was able to watch many piano players.

K: Which groups impressed you then?

G: More then any other group, I was listening to Charanga Habanera for the melodies were totally different.

K: How so?

G: Until the early nineties everyone had been used to just Son or Van Van. Remember the song Bruja by NG la banda? The coro “tu eres una bruja, una bruja sin sentimento tu eres una bruja”. That’s how everyone used to sing, very monotonal. Then David Calzado came along and changed history with the help of the gran compositor Leo Vera whose singing style was imitated by all the new groups. The genius of David Calzado was in recognizing this. He knew this was the magic key, the singing style of Leo.

K: You give a lot of credit to Leo for this new sound in Cuban music?

G: I give him 100% of the credit. The piano tumbaos, bloques, coros and mambos, thanks to all the musicians, naturally come out in the rehearsals. Thanks to them, David had the sello “signature sound” of the group. Which is unchanged to this day.

K: Yes, but C.H. has evolved and changed over the years as well as the its members.

G: Yes of course it’s changed and adapted but the original feeling is still there. Leo was the original feeling, then when Michel Maza came in “while imitating Leo’s melodies,” he brought the locura “craziness” or callejero “street style” into the picture. Then later when Tirso Duarte and Ricky Ricón entered, David started making music for musicians and not just for the street because Ricky Ricón had both, feeling and locura.

K: Could you explain why the change in style at this time?

G: When Tirso entered C.H. coming from Pachito Alonso, he had a lot of ideas. David Calzado exploited this fountain of wealth. When Tirso was on piano, he began demonstrating to David his singing ability. David saw that with Tirso singing the group got stronger, as did the public. But this was not the type of public that David wanted. The kind of public that David wanted was the type that Ricky Ricón attracted, “young good looking girls.” But Ricky Ricón didn’t have the same force on the mic that Tirso had. David had two roads to choose from at this point, both complete but both very different. There was the way of Tirso, unattractive guys fronting the group “like the old Charanga” and playing more of a repartero style of music. Or there was the way of Ricky Ricón, which brought good women with dollars, la farandula [“a scene”] more attractive and elegant, which was better for the more expansive venues. David choose the later, Tirso got mad and left.

K: I want to ask you more about this style that Tirso was using.

G: Música reparto.

K: Which is sort of a recent phenomenon in Cuban salsa that very few people outside of Cuba know about. In your own words what is música reparto?

G: Reparto is a word to describe the barrios “neighborhoods”. In the case of música reparto, barrios that have bad reputations such as Pogoloti, Cerro, Posito, Cocosolo, etc... It also refers to a certain type of people from those barrios that frequent dance venues or free concerts in the street where groups play a certain type of music. When dancing in a place, you have people of different barrios together and everything is fine until the group or the singer starts changing the style of the music to a form that’s more vulgar or aggressive. Also they will begin addressing the barrios by name, and worse they will ask who is more guapo “tough,” this is sure to bring trouble.

K: But isn’t there a change in the music?

G: Sure, the music takes on a certain tension, and more force, and the reparteros respond by dancing faster with more force, except for the ones who have problems aren’t dancing but are watching other people because they know there’s going to be a fight.

K: How do they know?

G: They know when the volume goes up and the form of singing get out of control. Normally a singer tries to keep the crowd relaxed by saying, “Hey! we are all family here, brothers and sisters!” etc... But here in Cuba you also have singers whose style is to whip the crowd into a frenzy.

K: Like Michel Maza.

G: Yes like Michel, and also in the 90's it was Paulito F.G., Revé, N.G. la Banda.

K: N.G. la Banda?

G: Yes, N.G. la Banda had some very strong coros, for example, “Cerro tiene la llave y N.G. la Banda tiene la clave” or “Buena Vista tremenda pista.”

K: I would think to most timba fans outside of Cuba these coros would seem pretty tame.

G: Yes understandable, but these were the coros used to raise the pressure between the reparteros.

K: And Paulo F.G.? He’s very pop now, you say he was a repartero?

G: Yes in the 90's. But later his music took another level, more commercial, more Puerto Rican. Also, he changed in style too and doesn’t want to play for the people in the street or the barrios anymore. Only in Casa de la Música, Macumba, La Cecilia, Copa Room etc. -- more expensive places that bring in a different type of people.

K: How do his original fans feel about that?

G: Look, here in Cuba, it’s different. Once you’re a success it doesn’t matter what you do, you’re a success. There are many fanatics of Paulito and given the opportunity they would be just like him, sing just like him. Thanks to the style he created there are thousands of kids that want to imitate him, not just in the street but in the music schools as well.

K: So then why did he change??

G: Look Kevin, Paulito was a fanatic for his music, a timba fanatic for many years, until he saw other markets. When he looked into these other markets, he saw other groups of Cuba that before were playing the same type of music but had since changed, such as Issac Delgado. Years back, Paulito loved playing for the barrios but what market did he have? None.

K: It’s a pity he has to conform to the will of the market instead of playing what he feels.

G: That’s how he started. Paulito started as an útilero that loved listening to El Indio and Yumurí of Revé. Remember that Revé was more popular then Van Van at this time-- '86 to '92 -- young and old loved Revé. Also, Candito Fabre, a great improviser in the way of rhyming lyrics. When Paulito was in Opus 13, he wanted to be like these soneros from Revé. I’m not talking about the El Indio who sings with Trabuco, this is the one who sang “Mi salsa tiene sandungera”. Like El Indio there has never been in Cuba, the timbre of voice, very high, rhyming lyrics perfectly and the way he danced; not a good dancer, but because he was so fat it was very comical and the public adored him. It was because of this that Elio Revé refused to help get him a passport for a tour outside the country for fear he wouldn’t return.

K: So what happened to him?

G: He finally got his passport and has yet to return.

K: And Michel Maza after he left Charanga Habanera took over this style of repatero, no?

G: He didn’t take the style of Paulito -- he, with his form of playing, reactivated the música reparto which had been out.

K: Why did Michel chose that road instead of a more mainstream one?

G: Because it’s easy. It’s a form of interacting with the public using coros and mambos “Bomba!, Fiesta!,” and seeing the how the public reacts to it. Because of his natural charisma, just doing these coros and mambos he can easily transmit his feelings to the public and exhaust an audience in half the time.

K: And the flip side of this coin is that this is the form of playing that’s responsible for sending so many spectators over the edge, and the cause of a lot of the violence at some of the concerts in Havana. Which inevitably brought in the government to close many of the venues here, and to try to promote types of Cuban music other then salsa or timba.

G: Unfortunately, that was the case. Too many people fighting.

K: It sounds like some of the rap concerts back in the states.

G: Yeah, but you know it’s different here with rap and timba .

K: What do you mean?

G: I mean if you go out to dance salsa in other countries it’s always an elegant event. People are dressed up and well behaved working on their dance steps and turns. But here, it’s totally different, a more strong environment. Apart from the type of music we spoke of, you have hundreds of girls gyrating their bodies in all kinds of sexual ways and the guys are drinking much rum and displaying their machismo, and a lot of police watching from the perimeter. On the other hand, a rap performance here, the public is much more subdued, standing watching with arms folded in front of their chests. It never really caught on here -- “rap latino”
.
K: And Revé? Has he toned down his music as well?

G: No, Revé never changed his style -- he always has coros muy repartero with strong lyrics. They start very pretty but always end with coros very strong in which to raise the pressure of the spectators, like “uyuyui que veo tremenda jala jala tremenda traqueteo”.

K: This is probably the most famous coro for música reparto at this time.

G: Yes, it’s the most radical right now. Many timba groups like Michel Maza are using this coro because it’s guaranteed that when you sing it there will be trouble.

K: Exactly what is the meaning of this coro?

G: The first part is an expression of something either good or bad, but then when you say “tremenda jala jala.” it’s bad because it means physical violence and traqueteo is addressing someone in a very bad form with lots of profanity.

K: Wasn’t there a scandal with this coro about who is the originator?

G: This coro is Elio Revé’s. Before he died, he registered it but had never used it. In the law, it is his but it’s a dicho “a saying” of the street or barrio. Michel Maza didn’t know that this coro was registered and he started singing it in his group thinking it was nobody's. Now, when Elito Revé, the son, saw the reaction of this coro that Michel was using, and the effect that it had, which was that the barrios and public went crazy with this coro, he as the owner of this coro recorded a song with it and put it on radio and television with a video. When Michel heard this, he started saying in concert that the coro was his. Then one day, Elito Revé visited a concert of Michel’s and the two of them began a dispute on top of the stage about who was the owner or the coro in front of a shocked public. So then, Michel said professionally to the audience that this coro is the people's--it belongs to the barrios, it belongs to the street. Elito then became agitated and started screaming at Michel and some say that he pushed him. He told Michel that if he continued to sing it he would have to pay. Later Elito came out on T.V. saying the coro belongs to the people and the barrios but that his father did register it. Now Michel just says “uyuyui!!” and the reaction is the same.

K: Well what I want to know is, who was the one who started this trend, you know, of stressing the coros? Who put the hard edge in modern Cuban salsa or timba?

G: To know that he have to talk about El Médico.

K: Really? I wouldn’t have guessed it was El Médico de la Salsa.

G: This is how El Médico started by singing coros, beautiful lyrics and songs but he’s not a good singer, but how he filled the concert halls and this was done with coros like “si te fuiste pediste, yo no, yo me quedé” or “ahora soy el rey si te gusta bien y si no también”. Filling concert halls by singing coros was the beginning of música reparto or timba. Timba was always there but this new form that El Médico brought recharged the timba.

K: Why was he such a phenomenon here in Cuba?

G: That’s just it -- a phenomenon. One day he was playing in the park for free and the next day people were paying $50 tickets to see him or $100 shows at Havana Libre hotel. It’s something that’s never happened before in Cuba.

K: This made him a lot of enemies right?

G: Yeah, like Juan Formell, David Calzado, Paulito, Mayito. It was more than his fame that caused this. El Médico in a way set a trap for them. In the beginning, when he started singing out of tune, not one but all the groups in Cuba said he was a joke and would not amount to anything. The only one who believed in him was El Tosco -- he invested in new instruments for the group and wherever else he could help. After this El Médico just exploded and surpassed all who disrespected him.

El Médico would refer to his fame in his coros and direct it at other artists like Van Van, for example, “What is this pain they’re feeling? I can’t sing! But I sure fill concerts! Yo no canto! Pero lleno!” Then the other artists would naturally respond with a coro bashing El Médico. For example, Mayito would sing “Si tú eres el rey enséñame tu corona!” This would be done in concert on a nightly basis and of course everybody would have to attend the next show of whoever was dissed the night before.

K: Now, I’m starting to understand how this style evolved.

G: Yeah, and it got to the point where El Médico and Paulito physically fought on stage at La Cecilia.

K: It always seemed to me when I would watch recordings of Cuban variety shows with everyone singing together, arms around each other, Médico, Formell, Mayito etc, they all appeared to be old pals.

G: Yes, but El Médico was on the outs with everyone. He was #1, a superstar here and everybody had to be his friend and appear on T.V. with him because they couldn’t compete with him.

K: Compete in what way?

G: Compete for money. All the top bands in Havana “primera linia”, Formell, Calzado, Paulito, etc... had it worked out where more often then not they wouldn’t play on the same night so as not to split the money up. If they did play, it would be as invited guest appearances. For example you would have Charanga Habanera at La Tropical with special guests Paulito, Mayito and Vannia, and then a different variation the next night. The idea was to pool all the money in one place each night. El Médico didn’t play along. If Van Van was playing at Casa de la Música in Miramar, El Médico would purposely play in La Tropical just up the street and pull over half the crowd. If Charanga Habanera was playing in La Tropical, El Médico would purposely play that day in the Marianao amphitheater and take the majority of the audience. He did this to gain respect.

K: He had that kind of power?

G: Once after he finished a show in Havana, he announced that he was going to play later that night in Varadero and everyone followed him, a caravan of more then 150 cars.

K: Earlier you had referred to the groups of the “primera linia”.

G: In Cuba you have groups of the primera linia, segunda linia and tercera linia.

K: How did that start?

G: Well, in the primera linia you have, Revé, Van Van, Bamboleo, Adalberto Alvarez, N.G. la Banda, Manolito, Isaac and Charanga. When these groups were starting to get big, not just in Cuba but abroad, they started feeling important and began thinking economically. They saw that this music “son” or salsa cubana was beginning to move forward in a big way. So they organized into kind of an alliance or clan in the beginning with the most popular groups at the time so they could take care of each other. By doing this, they ensured that only the groups of the primera linia would be paid a certain high fee always. Also, it ensures that it would be more difficult, to impossible, for new groups to break into this level. That’s why there hasn’t been a change in the lineup for almost 20 years, except for a few exceptions most artists were shut out, or sent to segunda or tercera linia. Whenever they want, the groups of the primera linia have Casa de la Música, Café Cantante, Salon Rosado Beny Moré, Macumba, Palacio de la Salsa and at the time of carnavals, they get first choice. And because there are only so many places to play in Havana, the other groups have to wait for an opening. or when one of the primera linia groups are out of the country. And these groups never end. If somebody say like the director dies, his son takes over--kind of like a dynasty. Also, the primera linia groups are obligated to defend the country with patriotism, appearing at rallies etc.

K: And the second line groups?

G: Segunda linia for example you have Charanga Forever, Azúcar Negra, Pachito Alonso, Dan Den, Pupy, Klimax...

K: Pupy is segunda linia? Hard to believe.

G: Pupy isn’t primera linia yet, the group needs more time to mature. Also you have Yumurí and Angel Bonne. These are the people who have to wait for the primera linia groups to tour outside the country so they can secure some nights in Casa de la Música.

K: And the third line?

G: You have, among others, Tumbao Habana, El Clan, Dayron y el Boom, Tirso, Gardi y su Orquestra, Sello L.A., Los Angeles de la Habana and yours truly, HavanaWay. These groups have to wait for the second line groups to have a stroke of luck and get a night in Casa de la Música, leaving an opening for the matinee. In short, third line takes whatever comes along. This is the reality now, ten or fifteen years ago if a group was a hit, in that moment there would be fame and money but now it’s more complicated. Now for example if a third level group gets a contract to work outside the country, could be a country as close as Jamaica or Haiti, doesn’t matter that group even if they're terrible, they're automatically moved up to segunda linia when they return.

K: What about Michel Maza? What category is he in?

G: Ok Michel has his own category, he’s in first, second and third linia depending on his condition or what group is backing him.

K: I don’t understand. How could Michel Maza be primera linia if he only plays música reparto for the barrios and never appears on T.V.?

G: Because like El Médico before him, Michel has a huge public here in Cuba. Though 90% of his public are reparteros, unlike El Médico who had all of Cuba, still he is able to bend the rules.

K: So your saying that Michel is to be taken seriously.

G: Why don’t you ask me how would I compare Michel Maza with Van Van?

K: Ok, how would you compare Michel Maza with Van Van?

G: Alright look, Van Van is an orchestra that’s on top, not just in Cuba but many countries. With saying this that it’s the best group in Cuba. But if I put Van Van in Casa de la Música together with Michel Maza, with who do you think the people will dance more with and be more excited with?

K: I think with Michel.

G: That’s true. But, why do you come to that conclusion if Van Van is the best orchestra in Cuba?

K: Because the youth in Cuba identify with Michel Maza more then with Van Van.

G: Van Van is an orchestra, although famous is always in their sello and they aren’t going to change. But not Michel. Being a rebel, he knows that in this place that Van Van is playing is part of Michel’s public. With him it’s not important who is in first, second or third linia, he knows that it’s his public. All he has to say is “Fiiieestaaa!” and at that moment the public forgets that Van Van even played. I say this because only with him it doesn’t matter who is in what linia, and for this the groups of the primera linia will not let him elavate, for if they do, he will be more famous then El Médico de la Salsa was, much more.

K: Now that you’ve explained the three categories of groups, and HavanaWay being in the third linia, how do you see yourself competing in the shadow of all these groups? Do you believe you can maintain a following here in Havana?

G: Well, understand that in tercera linia there is little work and many hurdles to overcome. But like the coro from El Médico “hay que luchar, para tener cosas buena, hay que luchar”. Like I said, when the groups of the primera linia are touring outside of the country and the groups of the segunda linia are in Casa de la Música, the groups of the tercera linia more than anyone is working the repartero public. For right now, these people have no banner, they aren’t fans of any particular group, they dance for whoever. Right now they’re hooked on Reggaetón. We have to give them an injection to hook them -- the 15, 16 and 17 year olds -- back on timba so in 3-4 years these youths will be fans of the groups of the tercera linia. Then hopefully, not just us but all groups of the tercera linia will be on top -- that is if we listen to the to the youth and give them the music that they want. For the groups in the primera linia are just hanging on and not creating anything new. I believe that this new image is what the youth wants and a large part of that is what HavanaWay has.

K: Thank you Gustavo for sharing your insight and being so open. I’m sure that everyone who reads this will have a much better understanding of popular music as it exists in Cuba today.

G: My pleasure.