I’ve heard that you are involved with other musical preservation projects in Puerto Rico. Can you tell me about them?
Oh, I played with different orchestras in Puerto Rico. I was the musical director for Ismael Rivera’s son, for about a year or so. In the 80s I did a project called “Caribe Jazz”, with the idea that it would be a jazz group where the foundation of the rhythm section was going to be Puerto Rican rhythms, only plena and bomba. I worked with that project for a year or so, but jazz is a very hard market, especially in Puerto Rico
So it sort of served its lifetime and it was a great experience because I had a chance to play with some of the great cats in Puerto Rico and they taught me so much. It’s great when you can say that the guys you play with know more than you do? It’s my experience that people who know a lot about anything, they’re willing to share their experience with people who are serious about learning. I try to look at Caribe Jazz as preparation for what Plena Libre was going to become.
I know that you’ve been touring in the U.S, and Plena Libre is getting quite popular here, and certainly in Puerto Rico. How is your music doing in the rest of the world?
We’re basically in 14 countries. But I’m not going to tell you that we are Ricky Martin, because we’re not. I’m very clear on the way the process works and I know that there are not that many bands doing what we’re doing so its harder for us to get to my goal.
Let me tell you about my dream. Do you remember a band from Japan that used to play salsa? It was a lady, she was a great singer and they were a great band. My dream is that at some point bomba/plena will become so popular that there will be a band from Japan that will come to Puerto Rico to play plena/bomba. And some of the Puerto Ricans will be mad about it and I’m going to be laughing. It will make me so happy.
Of course, the process is long and we’re carrying most of this music on our backs (Plena Libre). But then again, when you stop moving, that’s when you die. You’ve got to keep on moving.
I’ve got to ask you this: What do you think of reggaeton?
Reggaeton? I think its boring, I think that the lyrics, at least in Puerto Rico, appeal to violence and strictly sexual stuff, that I don’t like. I don’t think that poor people are actually all involved in crime and I don’t want to see my daughter getting down with somebody that does reggaeton.
And now, let me tell you the good stuff, because there is also good stuff to be said. I think that these groups are, in part, a reflection of a certain aspect of society that the powers that be haven’t taken care of. I think that with inflation, bad and missing education, there’s a lot of hope in all that these people are learning about how to do enterprise, how to succeed. I think, essentially, that it’s a pity that the values are all messed up. I’m not going to say that it’s anybody’s fault, but just society in general.
The other day I was talking to somebody and saying that it seems to me, if you make money, it really doesn’t matter how you make it. You’re going to be respected. I don’t know if that’s a good value for future generations to have. Don’t get me wrong, I believe in being successful, in making money. I think you have an obligation to be good to yourself and to your family because the better you are, the more you can help the people that are close to you. And that’s very important to me.
The good stuff is that people are learning business. But then again, I’m 54, and I don’t pretend that I expect people in their 20s to believe in the same stuff I do. That’s a decision they have to make on their own. I’m just sorry that they didn’t get the opportunity to really look at values that are more positive than the values they are sharing with everyone else. I don’t really see why a gangster should be looked up to as a model.
But also, the mass media has a lot to do with that. It’s easier for me to get a headline if I talk bad about somebody than if they want to talk about the successes we have had.
