If you have never heard the music of Silvio Rodríguez, then please do me a favour: do not buy this album. It’s a deeply distorted survey of his output, favouring some of his worst mistakes over some of his most sublime successes. Even when first released in 1991, the selection was questionable. Fifteen years and half a dozen albums later it’s an unpardonable offence to the artist’s reputation.
The 80s were a low point in Rodríguez’ career, seeing a descent into tasteless synth arrangements (electronic handclaps, anyone?); worse, the musical quality of the songs declined sharply, the breathtaking poignancy and originality of his earlier gift giving way to an increasingly maudlin sensiblility. That a collection made in 1991 should feature only three songs from the classic albums of the 1970s (all from Días y flores) is I hope due to contractual difficulties — otherwise it’s inexplicable.
Silvio Rodríguez’ was an essential voice in the Cuba of the late 60s and 70s. With his paper-thin vocal tone and understated virtuosity as poet, guitarist and crafter of songs, he forged an idiom in which complex imagery, political passion and romanticism united to give voice to a post-revolutionary generation disaffected from the traditional Cuban rhythms and genres, and the artificiality of their subject matter. The songs that resulted are unique creations with a universality which has inspired a passionate fan-base across Latin America and worldwide (and incidentally helped spawn the nueva trova genre).
The good news is that the last fifteen years have seen a wholesale return to form, with new classics such as Descartes and Mariposas, in which a sadder, more fragile Rodríguez brings the disillusion of age to bear on unpublished early songs, back at home with his guitar and some much more sensitive collaborators and arrangements.
Thus the injustice. The album has some high points — ‘La maza’ and ‘Sueño con serpientes’ in particular are essential Silvio. But the waters should be allowed to close over such aberrations as ‘No hacen falta alas’ or ‘O melancolía’. And there’s no denying the popularity of ‘Unicornio’, but the song has done damage to the composer’s reputation among people of taste. If you’re a newcomer, go back to the early albums: Días y flores, Mujeres, Al final de este viaje. To catch up, start again in the mid-90s. But leave this one on the shelf.
Track listing:
Sueño de una noche de verano
Causas y azares
Como esperando abril
Playa girón
Canto arena
La maza
Canción urgente para Nicaragua
Sueño con Serpientes
Unicornio
Nuestro tema
No hacen falta alas
O melancolía
Luaka Bop VVR1030032
And just before I go into hiding, here is the track listing of my ideal Silvio Rodríguez album:
La maza
Esta canción
Yo digo que las estrellas
En el claro de la luna
Santiago de Chile
Días y flores
Playa Girón
Pequeña serenata diurna
Ya no te espero
Te doy una canción
Cierta historia de amor
¿A dónde van?
Esto no es una elegía
Aceitunas
Y nada más
Gaviota
Tu imagen
En busca de un sueño
Rosana
La tonada inasible
What’s yours?
