#Cuban funk

[haveyouheardthisband]

[cinnamoncee]

1971

[ronnyramone]

Welle One Love #360

Wir danken unserem Sponsor Möbel Schröder, ohne wäre diese Welle nicht möglich gewesen! ;-) 360 Folgen Welle One Love, das sind 360° im Kreis der Liebe(n) und ein eternal light am ost-thüringischen MusikPodcast-Himmel, das sind Florian und Ronny; das ist wie Siegmund Jähn und die Sojus 31, wie rote Grütze und Vanillesauce, wie Rocksteady und Jamaika. Endlich Welle. Endlich gemeinsam. Außer Fynn Kliemann, der hat das Tonband im Nachhinein mit Hand geschnitten und zusammen geklebt, ohne Bezahlung, klar. Top!

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[buttonsiwi]

if you can’t take the jazz, you can’t take the jizz

you can’t just love a transfem for her penis. you have to look at the beautiful woman behind the beautiful penis. yes that means listening to her eight hour experimental jazz album.

[dijidweeeb]

Album Cover: Diggin'the Crates, Afro-Cuban Funk (1993) (The Diggin' in the Crates Crew, commonly known as D.I.T.C., is an American hip hop collective formed in 1992 in New York City.)

[awsmdog-blog]

The Cuban Brothers - Yo Bonita - Lights Out

[pdmtsn]

Paul Murphy - The Jazz Room (2019)

A1 Imperial Tiger Orchestra - Emnete (Live) A2 Art Pepper - Mambo De La Pinta

B1 New York Ska Jazz Ensemble - Boogie Stop Shuffle B2 Lucas Van Merwijk And His Cu-Bop City Big Band - 4Beat Cha Cha Cha B3 Terje Terasmaa - Yatra-Ta

C1 Rhythmagic Orchestra - African Mailman C2 Onward International - Foot In The Door C3 Blue Mode - Smells Like Teen Spirit

D1 Mamelon - Koumba Fri Fri D2 Art Ensemble Of Chicago - Zombie D3 Shola Adisa-Farrar & Florian Pellissier Quintet - Sorrow, Tears And Blood D4 Patchworks - Tribute To Mulatu

Genre: Jazz, Latin, Funk / Soul Style: Afro-Cuban Jazz, Afrobeat, Soul-Jazz, Free Jazz, Latin Jazz, Modal

[the-californicationist]

Troubleshooting

For @glitterypirateduck's super fun Oh, Captain! challenge. This is for prompt #8 where our deceptive captain tries to hide a secret from his gunsmith.

She could smell him long before she saw his hulking form stop in front of her office door. The sweet scent of his signature Romeo y Julieta cigars gave him away; a jewel from Villa Clara, Cuba. The tight-rolled tobacco smoldered amber and gold in the dark, its rustic funk and black licorice smoke gently curling out of his parted lips, trapped under his dirty boonie hat.  

When she had been assigned to his team, she’d been dreading the constant relocating and high profile secrecy. It was hard enough to find 5.56 ammo for that mouthy Scot’s Steyr bullpup, much less have it delivered to a black site without a postcode. But, as she let her eyes wander up his mountainous shoulders, tracing the outline of a sharp, scruffy Adam’s apple, watching as his jaw rippled and clenched to bite down on the soft end of his cigar, she admitted to herself that she could deal with a few shipping delays as long as she got to enjoy John Price. Now, just a few weeks into this roughshod operation, she ached to see what lurked under all that gear. 

She cleaned up her station, carefully screwing on the cap to her powder and putting it under the workbench. When he spoke, it was always confident but soft, like a stage whisper, words only she was meant to hear. 

“Smithy,” he took a long drag from his Cuban and pulled the creamy smoke in through his nose, a very casual French inhale, breathing it out and down sharply, purposefully avoiding her face.

He’d never called her by her name, only by his clipped version of her title of Chief Gunsmith. She knew he must be aware of it since he requested her transfer, but she had always been “Smithy” to him. 

“Captain, how are we this evening?” She gazed into his eyes with intent, hoping he would see her desire in them and be pleased. 

“We’re alright,” he took the cigar from his mouth and let it rest between his fingers, smiling down at her as he loomed, his height making her feel small. He removed his hat, placing it on her bench before leaning against the table, his huge hand spreading wide across the stainless surface. He continued,

“You know, this M4 has been giving me a bit of trouble. I cleaned it, but even after a full breakdown, the bolt isn’t sitting flush. Think you could help me get it all the way in?”

She let his quiet rumbling voice wash over her like a wave, lapping at her mind and making her breath catch in her chest. The double entendre was so obvious as to almost be in jest, but his suggestive tone - though subtle - was enough for her to believe in it. 

“Did you use enough oil? A little lubricant goes a long way, Captain, but some parts need more than others. Especially if it was a vigorous cleaning,” she threw him a bone in hopes he would bite it. 

He did, replying with a sly smile,

“Perhaps I went a little rough with her. Think you can take a look?”

He licked his lips, watching as the flush tinted her neck and cheeks, hungry for her attention. She watched him shift his weight, rocking forward towards the bench, flexing his hips. Obviously, she was getting to him. She turned up the heat, pushing her luck,

“Rough is just fine, John, but with the size of the bolt head you’ve got here, you just need to make sure she’s slick enough to take it.”

She smiled sweetly, taking the rifle from him and laying it across the bench. Now that she had turned her attention to the gun, she could only watch him from the corner of her eye. But, she knew she had landed a punch when he had to turn his head away from her and pull at the inside leg of his pants, adjusting. 

Then, as she took apart the barrel from the bolt and its lever, she realized he had been lying to her. He had replaced the trigger assembly before the bolt, effectively causing the problem he was asking her to solve. Price knew this gun better than the back of his own hand, and he had come down to her office with this game, hoping to score. 

Her heart raced when she discovered the error, and she tried her best to maintain a straight face, not wanting him to realize she’d caught him yet. She still wanted to play. 

She rebuilt the weapon, glossing over the false mistake, and pulled the bolt back flush. 

“There,” she sighed, “good as new.”

The ball was clearly in his court and she waited to see what he would do. His voice had dropped into a deep, threatening register, and he was leaning so far over the workbench that she could see his pupils dilate, pushing back the bright blue and revealing the blackness behind it,

“What was the problem, Smithy?”

He began to stalk her around the edge of the table, taking impossibly slow steps toward her side of the bench, eyes fixed on her mouth. She saw his chest rising and falling faster and stronger, lifting his protective vest and causing the lingering smoke between his lips to billow chaotically around his dark beard. She held her ground, turning her body toward his as he walked,

“You made a rookie mistake, Captain Price. One that you’re not capable of making...”

His eyes sparked to life, focusing on hers now, and he knew that he’d been discovered. She continued to dismantle his farce,

“…and I wonder how it can be possible…”

Price rounded the first corner of the table, hanging on her every word. He took his cigar and pulled a long drag.

“...that such an experienced…”

Another step. The leather of his boot creaked as he pressed it down.

“...intelligent…”

Another step. She could smell his cologne now. Vetiver. Musk.

“...diligent soldier…”

He crossed the second corner, letting the smoke fall out of his mouth, pouring like water down his chin and tangling in his beard, holding his breath to let her view the effect. His teeth were clenched together behind his full mouth, and he began to smile in a sinister, pained way. She went on, quieter, her voice betraying her nerves,

“...would somehow forget how to put his own gun back together.”

Price’s cigar had come to an end, and he crushed it out under his boot as he stood in front of her, too close for propriety, just close enough to smell her coconut shampoo. He hummed, playing along, falsifying a sense of wonder and mystery in his tone.

“That is quite the mystery, innit? Must’ve been distracted by…” Price brought his hand up to touch the tip of his gunsmith’s long braid as it lay draped over her shoulder, laying on her breast, “…something important.”

“John,” she whispered, leaning toward him instinctively.

In the half-second between her speaking his name and the silence that came after, he struck like a snake, wrapping the rest of her braid around his fist like a rope, yanking her head back and pulling her to his body, letting their gear and clothes rustle between them, not caring where the vests and belts and buckles twisted and pinched, letting the tension linger. His free hand grabbed her jaw and neck in his wide, open palm, fingers pressing into her skin, warm and callused. 

His voice was so strained and full of his want that it seemed like a growl, rambling in a rushed, fervent monologue,

“You’ve been teasing me again, Smithy. Ever since we got back from that damn operation. You’ve been coming to the gym at night, when I lift, and you wear those fucking shorts and you show off that thick arse, bending over in front of the racks, pulling them up higher so I can how see your wet cunt is soaking right through them,” his hand yanked her head back, making her gasp. He loved that noise,

“Delicious. Your pretty little cunt, ready to eat. Right within my reach. A whole gym, empty, and you pick that spot every damn time. Moving past me in the lockers, letting me smell you, and now I want a taste.” 

She felt the stinging tightness of her scalp as he tugged on her braid, locking her body in place against his, controlling her head, moving it toward his face. He grimaced like he was in agony even though she was the one under his fist. His touch was such a relief. She’d been torturing him for weeks, and she surrendered to him, pliant to his whims, hoping he understood that her lack of resistance was essentially her begging him to forgive her for leaving him starving.

“Alright,” she smiled, still at his mercy, “If you want a taste, you can have one.” She watched as his eyes grew wide with anticipation as she unbuttoned her pants and tugged down the zipper. She bit her lip and shrugged, “On your knees, soldier.”

AO3 Link

[bite-the-bloody-hand]

6 SONG SOUNDTRACK (Part 1 - DISCO FUNK)

@chaosteddybear tagged me in the following game and the autism won. I decided to make an extra challenge for myself: a themed playlist with 1 'outsider' or anachronistic track that still fits the overall vibe. We begin... with Disco Funk.

PREPARE YOUR BUTTS

Rules: If you're tagged, make a new post with links to music and/or lyrics describing the following: 1. An event that defines your character's past 2. How your character sees themselves 3. How others view them 4. Their closest relationship (platonic or romantic) 5. A major fight scene 6. End Credits song

Spotify Youtube Music

1. AFRO CUBAN BAND* - Something's Gotta Give -

Dreams have done their share of dying love cries out but no one hears - oh, Something Something's got to give We can't, We can't go on like this

Is it a little on the nose? Sure. But a midnight revelation that he simply couldn't continue his life as it was going put Zell on the road to discovering his own path. He aches for the hurting, broken world he was brought into; he may not have the answer for fixing things, but he has to try something. Even if he's unsure of himself, even if he's convinced of his own fragility, he can fake strength if he can get out. He can't do anything while locked away in a Hellknight compound in Lepistadt, so he goes. And so it goes...

2. ARTIE SHAW - Nightmare - (Instrumental)

The problem with having an unclear sense of purpose and underdeveloped, poor self-esteem is that it can lead one down a path of introspection that keeps one in a spiral. Zell is an outsider when he isn't a rebel, never fitting with any authority and rarely synchronizing with any group; uncomfortable in his own body even when he's done everything he can to feel like himself. He desperately wants to solve the conundrum of connection - even when he's successful he has doubts that haunt him, especially in the lonely hours in the night.

(It's called Depression but they haven't invented therapy in Golarion yet)

Why this is the Anachronistic Outsider - Zell himself is a man out of time... even he doesn't know how old he is or how long he spent in Areelu Vorlesh's "care."

3. DEODATO - Also Sprach Zarathustra (instrumental)

I'm being a little bit of a shit with this; historically the misinterpretation of Nietzsche's Zarathustra have been that the title character is a teacher of doctrine/great leader/himself the 'Übermensch' he urges humanity to become. The actions of someone who wishes not to speak to the masses but instead live his own life of contemplation - and if he ever leads, to do it by example - often get twisted into fanatic parasocialization... if that isn't the life of the Knight Commander I don't know what is. Plus, this is just a bop.

4. EVELYN "CHAMPAGNE" KING - Shame

Ooh-ooh, it's a, oh-oh, it's a shame (Shame) oh-oh, it's a (Shame) mama** just don't understand Oh, how I love my man (shame) It's a, oh, it's a (shame)

Falling for someone when you already don't like yourself a whole lot can be hard, but it's much harder when nobody else likes the someone you love. Sometimes you just have to whip around and be assertive: the real shame would be abandoning what you have. Especially when it's this good.

5. C.J. & CO - Devil's Gun***

Get a new direction Well, well, well another resurrection Well now don't wait hesitate Or it's gonna be too late Flames are getting higher Got to jump out of the fire

I felt this fit as a big combat piece for Azata path especially; deeply anti-authoritarian theme about bringing together the community and avoiding the Devil (literal, figurative, and so on) and rebuilding? Yes please.

6. FRANCO MICALIZZI - Stridulum Theme (Instrumental)****

I wanted to close us out with something that felt a little magical and strange; this is a longtime favorite that really fit the bill.

TAGGING~ @Rlainarin @thedosianexplorer @arendaes I'm pretty sure two of you have already been tagged so feel no obligation, naturally.

*Had to transcribe the lyrics here myself so I'm not 100% sure I got them on the mark. Frustratingly I think this group only did one other track, which was the b-side for Something's Gotta Give. Real bummer, I love what I've found.

**Mama in this context is 100% Irabeth. She does NOT approve of this obviously farcical union. She's watching Arendae like a HAWK .

***YES, OF COURSE I played this during the Mephistopheles fight, who do you think I am?! TBH it was a real close call between this and Stayin' Alive but Devil's Gun won out for thematic reasons.

****I've had this track on Zell's playlist for a long time simply because I love the sound. It's the theme to a truly bizarre 70s Italian horror flick called The Visitor / Stridulum that's worth catching if you're curious. Free on youtube via the link.

[bookaddict24-7]

RECO OF THE WEEK!

A Cuban Girl's Guide to Tea & Tomorrow by Laura Taylor Namey

Synopsis:

"For Lila Reyes, a summer in England was never part of the plan. The plan was 1) take over her abuela’s role as head baker at their panadería, 2) move in with her best friend after graduation, and 3) live happily ever after with her boyfriend. But then the Trifecta happened, and everything—including Lila herself—fell apart.

Worried about Lila’s mental health, her parents make a new plan for her: spend three months with family friends in Winchester, England, to relax and reset. But with the lack of sun, a grumpy inn cook, and a small town lacking Miami flavor (both in food and otherwise), what would be a dream trip for some feels more like a nightmare to Lila…until she meets Orion Maxwell.

A teashop clerk with troubles of his own, Orion is determined to help Lila out of her funk, and appoints himself as her personal tour guide. From Winchester’s drama-filled music scene to the sweeping English countryside, it isn’t long before Lila is not only charmed by Orion, but England itself. Soon a new future is beginning to form in Lila’s mind—one that would mean leaving everything she ever planned behind."

___

Check out my review on Goodreads here.

Add this book to your TBR on Goodreads here.

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Have you read this book? Would you recommend it?

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Happy reading!

[rockislandadultreads]

Happy National Hispanic Heritage Month!

Mango, Mambo, and Murder by Raquel V. Reyes

Food anthropologist Miriam Quiñones-Smith's move from New York to Coral Shores, Miami, puts her academic career on hold to stay at home with her young son. Adding to her funk is an opinionated mother-in-law and a husband rekindling a friendship with his ex. Gracias to her best friend, Alma, she gets a short-term job as a Caribbean cooking expert on a Spanish-language morning TV show. But when the newly minted star attends a Women's Club luncheon, a socialite sitting at her table suddenly falls face-first into the chicken salad, never to nibble again.

When a second woman dies soon after, suspicions coalesce around a controversial Cuban herbalist, Dr. Fuentes - especially after the morning show's host collapses while interviewing him. Detective Pullman is not happy to find Miriam at every turn. After he catches her breaking into the doctor's apothecary, he enlists her help as eyes and ears to the places he can't access, namely the Spanish-speaking community and the tawny Coral Shores social scene.

As the ingredients to the deadly scheme begin blending together, Miriam is on the verge of learning how and why the women died. But her snooping may turn out to be a recipe for her own murder.

This is the first volume of the "A Caribbean Kitchen Mystery" series.

Our Share of Night by Mariana Enríquez

A young father and son set out on a road trip, devastated by the death of the wife and mother they both loved. United in grief, the pair travel to her ancestral home, where they must confront the terrifying legacy she has bequeathed: a family called the Order that commits unspeakable acts in search of immortality.

For Gaspar, the son, this maniacal cult is his destiny. As the Order tries to pull him into their evil, he and his father take flight, attempting to outrun a powerful clan that will do anything to ensure its own survival. But how far will Gaspar’s father go to protect his child? And can anyone escape their fate?

Moving back and forth in time, from London in the swinging 1960s to the brutal years of Argentina’s military dictatorship and its turbulent aftermath, Our Share of Night is a novel like no other: a family story, a ghost story, a story of the occult and the supernatural, a book about the complexities of love and longing with queer subplots and themes.

The Haunting of Alejandra by V. Castro

Alejandra no longer knows who she is. To her husband, she is a wife, and to her children, a mother. To her own adoptive mother, she is a daughter. But they cannot see who Alejandra has become: a woman struggling with a darkness that threatens to consume her. Nor can they see what Alejandra sees. In times of despair, a ghostly vision appears to her, the apparition of a crying woman in a ragged white gown.

When Alejandra visits a therapist, she begins exploring her family’s history, starting with the biological mother she never knew. As she goes deeper into the lives of the women in her family, she learns that heartbreak and tragedy are not the only things she has in common with her ancestors.

Because the crying woman was with them, too. She is La Llorona, the vengeful and murderous mother of Mexican legend. And she will not leave until Alejandra follows her mother, her grandmother, and all the women who came before her into the darkness. But Alejandra has inherited more than just pain. She has inherited the strength and the courage of her foremothers—and she will have to summon everything they have given her to banish La Llorona forever.

Vanishing Maps by Cristina García

Celia del Pino, the matriarch of a far-flung Cuban family, has watched her descendants spread out across the globe, struggling to make sense of their transnational identities and strained relationships with one another. In Berlin, the charismatic yet troubled Ivanito performs on stage as his drag queen persona, while being haunted by the ghost of his mother. Pilar Puente, adrift in Los Angeles, is a struggling sculptor and the single mother of a young son. In Moscow, Ivanito’s cousin Irina has become the wealthy owner of a lingerie company, but she remains deeply lonely in the wake of her parents’ deaths and her estrangement from her Cuban heritage. Meanwhile, in Havana, Celia prepares to reunite with her lost lover, Gustavo, and wonders whether age and the decades spent apart have altered their bond.

Cut off from their Cuban roots, yet still feeling the island’s ineluctable pull, Ivanito and his extended family try to reimagine where - and with whom - they belong. Over the course of a momentous year, each will grapple with their histories as they are pulled to Berlin for a final, explosive reunion.

[w-armansky-blog]

Sade, British singer, known for her sophisticated blend of soul, funk, jazz, and Afro-Cuban rhythms.

[wu-gambinos]

Raekwon & Ghostface Killah Criminology featured as a second single from rapper Raekwon’s debut album, Only Built 4 Cuban Linx. Released in 1995, the song was an instant classic and became a mainstay during the 90s. Popularizing the mafioso rap, the song begins with a dialogue in reference to the film Scarface. It featured bandmate and rapper Ghostface Killah, who performed the first verse. Raekwon performed the second verse without a chorus in between. The song had various elements that made it a perfect representative of the mafioso aesthetic. It became so popular upon its release that it rekindled the sub-genre entirely. East coast mafioso rap was in vogue during the late 80s but grew out of popularity quickly. Songs like Criminology were a great counterpart to West Coast’s G-funk style of rap. Raekwon’s critically acclaimed solo album featuring the song was a harbinger of change in a sense.

[theloniousbach]

ALMOST LIVESTREAM: HERLIN RILEY with Stacy Dillard, Dave Torkanowsky, and Max Moran, JAZZ ST LOUIS, 4 APRIL 2024

This one wasn’t on the subscription list, but I am glad to have had the Thursday night livestream as a taste of the New Orleans party that was in town this week. HERLIN RILEY is part of the proteges of Ellis Marsalis that includes his sons, Jazz St Louis President Victor Goines, and pianist Dave Torkanowsky. The band had a groove going when Riley came onstage with a second line going with just a tambourine and Mardi Gras Indian chants. It was Twelve’s It, an Ellis Marsalis tune which went from the funk to a lyrical middle section and back to the funk with every member of the band getting a chance to shine.

Stacy Dillard is a Small’s regular whom I see with others and rarely in his own right. But he’s a fine player with sufficient fire and groove to serve this tradition. Dave Torkanowsky had moments of subtlety and lyricism to go with the power and percussiveness he was signed up to provide. Max Moran is a big presence on bass. HERLIN RILEY is charismatic and, at the risk of faint praise, perfectly capable. He was not an astonishing magician, but somehow there’s a thickness to the NOLA rhythms that sneak up on you. You have to be perfectly capable to pull off that deceptive trick which Riley most certainly was.

There were two James Black tunes, New Arrival in the second slot and Whistle Stop to close (with Victor Goines). Black was a role model for Riley as a drummer/composer/bandleader. He stayed at home, it would appear, so he is not widely enough known. He probably won’t be—or he’ll be in with similar figures like Ralph Peterson and James Williams as musicians’ musicians, but like them have made important contributions. There were three Riley compositions, also winning, varied, and challenging. Riley too may well be one of those craftspeople who importantly uphold a tradition. He put on a fine fine show but I don’t regret not being in the room even though it was quite a party. They encored with Tootie Ma Is a Big Fine Thing, a bit of a single entendre tune, by Danny Barker, a banjoist who had a church brass band in the late 1960s/1970s in which Riley and his pals learned some basics.

The homestretch of the set got interesting as Riley’s Touched for his mother whom he cared for as she was dying was poignant; Bicycleta by a Cuban settled in NOLA had that open major chord Keith Jarrett groove with an obvious Latin tinge; and Ivan Lenz’s ballad Love Dance proved decisively, as this whole stretch made the case, that they could all play delicately.

New Orleans remains perhaps THE important jazz city even if New York is the center of its gravity. I need to remember that and appreciate this reminder.

[soulmusicsongs]

Cuban Soul

Cuban Soul in 14 tracks. Listen and learn about the Latin Cuban soul sounds from the '70s.

Amor Mio - Los Tainos (Los Tainos, 1977)

Candido's Funk - Candido (Drum Fever, 1973)

Con Todos Los Hierros - Juan Pablo Torres Y Algo Nuevo (Con Todos Los Hierros, 1977)

Como Comienza La Conga! - Pello El Afrokan (Congas Por Barrios, 1988)

Cosas Que Se Me Ocurren - Los 5 U 4 (Los 5 U 4, 1979)

Cuando Llego A Mi Casa - Los Brito (Los Brito, 1977)

De Eso Nada Monada - Ray and His Court ‎(Ray Fernández and His Court, 1973)

En Casa Del Trompo No Bailes - Orquesta Riverside (En Casa Del Trompo No Bailes / Perdiste En Mi Un Querer, 197?)

Fun-K-City - Julio Gutierrez ‎(Fun-K-City / Revival, 197?)

Funk Up - Mongo Santamaria (Afro Indio, 1975)

El Mechon - Grupo Monumental (Grupo Monumental, 1975)

La Patica - Paquito D'Rivera (Instrumental, 1975)

Siboney - Los Llamas (Los Llamas, 1974)

Toda La Juventud - Maggie Carlés Y Luis Nodal Y Los Magnéticos (Maggie Carlés Y Luis Nodal Y Los Magnéticos, 1976)

More Soul Music

The Best Fania Records Soul Songs

Soul from Panama in 12 tracks

Funk from Peru

Caribbean Soul: 20 awesome tracks

Funk from Mexico in 11 tracks

[burlveneer-music]

VA - Diggers Dozen - DJ Muro selects 12 jazz-funk cuts from Japan

DIGGERS DOZEN presents it’s first compilation on BBE Music selected by Japan’s DJ MURO - King Of Diggin'. This exciting new release offers 12 stunning Japanese jazz-funk and latin- jazz gems which fuse Japanese traditional musical instruments and traditional melodies. These recordings were produced during the 70's for Nippon Columbia by master composers and musicians of Japan’s jazz and latin scene, including Kiyoshi Yamaya, Tadaaki Misago & Tokyo Cuban Boys, Kifu Mitsuhashi, Toshiyuki Miyama and more. It's original vinyl releases that these tracks featured on have become scarce and super rare for the Japanese collectors market and now these magnificent tracks are available outside of Japan for the first time on this killer compilation. The focus and selections made by MURO for this release is a continuation from his Wa Groove Mix “Nippon Breaks” released in 2020. DJ MURO known as King Of Diggin’ rightfully owns this title being one of the world's deepest and most respected collectors of specialist rare records and music related relics. MURO first and foremost is a globally renowned DJ who has made his mark in releasing countless ground breaking mixtapes of various sounds and genres - mainly funk, soul and disco all selected with rare and original pressings. As well as this MURO is widely known for producing, remixing and re-editing many monumental titles and releases, reigning as King in the various fields he prevails.