Hi Jorge,
If Beatnik permits, I follow you straying from the original topic for a single reply. If this is of general interest, we should consider opening a separate thread.
I am guessing that you probably heard either Cheo's or Henry's version first, and were used to the Nuyorican clave feel of that song and of "salsa" in general, before hearing Rey Caney's original version. A lot has to do with how you first hear a song and "bond" with it, then different versions you hear later just don't sound right.
I did not know the song at all before, neither the NY version nor the Cuban original.
I totally respect anybody's taste and personal preferences as a listener. As a hobby musicologist, I also respect the monuments of tradition that are the foundation for the evolution of the diverse art forms. It would be silly to disregard their historical origins that are often pioneer works.
As an active musician, I'm kind of sitting on one table with Rey Caney, Cheo, and an imaginary arranger of a band that I'm involved in, and from this position I would plead for Cheo's suggestion, so to say. It is true that I had come to Cuban music via NYC Salsa; but I've had enough time to study its origins, even if I left out "No hace falta papel". (I have given up on knowing everything, although I tried.) The clave mechanism that I am referring to hasn't been invented in New York. It emerged first as a vague feeling from the Cuban folklore tradition, its playing and listening experience. It is probably rooted in Afro-Cuban styles much older than Ritmo Conga.
Some Salsa arrangers have become masters of Cuban music. They have learned how to deal with the clave. I find that in many cases they developed this art further than arrangers in Cuba, who were busy creating new dances and musical styles after the revolution. Before the revolution, Son Montuno and the conjunto style had been the most popular genres in Cuba (aside from the charangas' Cha Cha Chá). But as I demonstrated in a previous thread, the clave concept, although risen to central importance in Cuban Son Montuno, was not always pursued to perfection in the conjuntos. Beside the examples that I already mentioned, I may list Guillermo Rodríguez Fiffe's well-known guaracha "La negra Tomasa" alias "Quiquiribu Mandinga" alias "Bilongo". Admittedly, I got to know Eddie Palmieri's version first, not knowing the arrangement was probably influenced by the Tito Rodríguez version (where Eddie had once worked as a pianist). The song was composed in 1937. Now listen to the Conjunto Casino recording from the 1940's:
https://youtu.be/M0sJQaZ8wfU.
The clave jumps after the cierre. The Conjunto Casino was one of the most successful Cuban conjuntos at that time, and it would be ridiculous to declare that they played it the "wrong" way. It is what it is, and they played what they played. You either like it or not. Back then, it was probably acceptable to turn around the clave over a long cierre. But in 1996, Rubén González did the same thing:
https://youtu.be/O_e7GPj_wlU.
Rubén was a great pianist, I love his voicing and his solo style. He was a legend, representing a part of Cuban popular music history. How could anyone criticize him for what he played? But, going back in time, listen to the clever arrangement of Cuban pianist René Hernández for the Tito Rodríguez orchestra from the late 1960's:
https://youtu.be/f5Wwp89FiNM.
This was written and recorded in the U.S.A., but it wasn't even Salsa. Why did René Hernández, pianist and arranger for Machito, choose to re-shape the interlude, when the Conjunto Casino had already done the perfect job? Has anyone ever accused him of cultural blasphemy?
Here is Eddie Palmieri, recorded in 1969:
https://youtu.be/ZlUYuwUiQTY.
Greetings,
Thomas
P.S.: To justify this post a bit, here is the timbales chart for the Palmieri version of "Bilongo":
- BILONGO, page 1
- BILONGO, page 2