That warm feeling grew as the crowd were herded from main gate to stage through the gauntlet of free samples. Then, like a colony of seagulls, the crowds found their nesting spots in front of the golden sun-lit palm house, marking out their territories with M&S cool boxes and rugs. The result was a patchwork carpet of family picnics — of pre-made Caesar salad, ill-fitting Panama hats and small cups of free wine. At this rate, the music did not even have to be good — they didn’t even need music at all as people seemed quite content to listen to the best of Tracy Chapman CD (on repeat) all evening.

As tribute bands go — and that’s what they were — they were very good; better I’m sure than the counterfeit Stones and Killer Queen, who’d been playing the night before

At one point, it seemed that was all we were going to get. We were told that the band and all their instruments had been caught up in traffic. We were also told that, “due to a fatal accident on the M4, which whilst terribly sad, meant even worse news: that the pre-ordered picnic hampers would be delayed.”

Eventually the composite members of Cuba’ top pop band Buena Fé arrived at the scene, just as the sun dipped behind the palm house and made it possible to look at the stage without saluting and squinting. Unfortunately, whilst the band had managed to navigate the traffic, their instruments had not — why they weren’t travelling together beats me. This meant that they were forced into cobbling together an acoustic version of their songs.

The band, with typical Cuban musician perfectionism, was clearly put out at the compromise in music, but it didn’t show in the slightest. They kicked off with the mandatory couple of choruses of the ‘Guantanamera’, at which every ear in the audience picked up - “Hey! I know this one!” However, as the band segued into their song (‘Guantanamero’) the ears went back to the sounds of squabbling children and wine bottles un-corking. Buena Fé were extremely good at what they did. Lead singer Israel Rojas Fiel commanded the stage with the enthusiastic presence of a true professional whilst the band provided flawless accompaniment. They rattled through the ten or so songs and abruptly exited the stage, leaving the audience to more of Tracy Chapman.

As the night drew on, the free samples diminished and so did the sunlight. The palm house and surrounding trees were lit up like giant mood cubes, slowly shifting through the spectrum of colours. The mood of the event changed: it was no longer a picnic in the park but a real outdoor festival, and there was a genuine and unexpected atmosphere of expectation. And, right on cue, Eliades Ochoa dressed in all black with huge cowboy hat came on stage.

He had now been upgraded to the Buena Vista Social Club, perhaps as compensation for the delay, and he duly complied by kicking off with a splendid rendition of club favourite ‘Chan Chan’. Once again, the ears picked, “Yeah, this one’s definitely on the CD I’ve got!” And once again as the ‘new material’ came out, the interest faded. The big man had not lost his voice, which was still commanding and, if anything, had gotten better on the guitar probably from being able to step out of the colossal shadow of fellow club member Compay Segundo. There were moments of brilliant guitar solos, accompanied by the type of fluent, effortless musicianship one would expect from a Cuban septet.

Thus the band played through a competent set, peppered with the more familiar BVSC songs. They were slightly Las Vegasy; a bit too sparkly but lacking true spark. The endings of each song seemed awkward, with Ochoa sheepishly playing a solo at the end of each song. But nobody was complaining. As tribute bands go — and that’s what they were — they were very good; better I’m sure than the counterfeit Stones and Killer Queen, who’d been playing the night before.

If Eliades’ mind was looking back to his Zenith at Carnegie Hall, again it didn’t show, as he constantly referred to the crowd as his ‘big family’ with English that stretched as far as ‘my English no good’ and ‘how are you? I’m fine’. So the music was competent, fluent, effortless, if not magnificent. But that didn’t stop the event being a thoroughly enjoyable experience. They should hand out free wine and chocolate at every gig!

Photo by Damian Rafferty

Link: See pics of Buena Fé