Desde La Bahia—San Francisco

Latin Beat Magazine, Sept, 2002 by Jesse Varela

DIA DE SAN JUAN: The music of Stanley Robley y Sus Jíbaros Modernos got things underway for the 28th annual celebration of St. John the Baptist--the patron saint of Puerto Rico--on Saturday, June 23. Organized by the Western Region of the Puerto Rican Council, the event first originated at a Union City fraternal hall, went to Lake Cunningham Park and moved to the Santa Clara County Fairgrounds in San José in 1995. Since then, international stars like Tito Nieves and El Gran Combo have graced the festive family occasion highlighted by music, booths of traditional foods, information and memories of Borinquen, and the beautiful spirit of the Puerto Rican people.

The inclusion of Los Jíbaros Modernos was a treat. Originally from Hawaii, the cuatro-playing Robley came to prominence with Los Jíbaros Diamantes, a jíbaro trio that played in the "kachi kachi" island style. He relocated to Hayward, California and started Los Jíbaros Modernos with his brothers Russell Ballies (guitar) and Leroy Rodríguez (bass) almost 20 years ago. Rounding out the band for this performance were Edward Quiñones (bass), John Kinores (conga) and Leroy Méndez (bongó).

Born and raised on the isle of Kauai, Robley's family arrived in 1901 on a migration that took them to New Orleans, Texas, and eventually to Hawaii's sugarcane fields. Playing a spirited set of traditional tunes and originals that got the crowd into a dancing mood, their organic sound, comprised of cuatro, güiro and falsetto vocals, was tight. Also featured as lead singer, Robley is a seasoned professional who accompanied such legends as Ramito and Jibarito De Lares on tours around Hawaii.

The group played an upbeat set that turned Méndez loose on bongó several times on songs done in the kachi kachi style. Folkloric legend has it that the words kachi kachi surfaced when a Japanese patron came to a Hawaiian jíbaro dance and got cut. Bleeding, he couldn't say he was cut, but cried out "kachi kachi." People thought he was yelling about the music! Metaphorically, it means just about anything can be played, including Mexican, Portuguese and Hawaiian songs, in a traditional Puerto Rican jíbaro style. This coming November, Stanley Robley and Los Jíbaros Modernos will tour Puerto Rico, showcasing this Hawaiian variation of boricua traditional music. Robley, who gave the event a roots refresher, can be reached at stanleystax@aol.com.

Down the walkway, deejays blasted Big Pun and Jennifer López tracks for the youngsters at the hip-hop stage, while a portable museum of P.R. history was beautifully displayed to offer an appreciated cross-cultural educational opportunity. Not surprisingly, long lines were formed for culinary goodies stacked up near the entrance.: pasteles, tostones, arroz con gandules and more. Miss Puerto Rico Universe was also in attendance.

EL SONERO DEL NUEVO MILENIO: Cuban pop singer Issac Delgado landed in the Bay Area between June 6-9 at Yoshi's in Oakland with a party of unprecedented musical dimensions. With extraterrestrial dancehall virtuosity, he transported the audience to an imaginary solar system where salsa cubana and timba supplied the oxygen. Special guest vocalist Haila Mompié (formerly of Bamboleo and Azúcar Negra) and a band of the island nation's best young musicians brought skills and passion to a Havana starship that helped him maneuver through a potent 90-minute set.

With a special rocket fuel of influences gleaned from Juan Formell, Adalberto Alvarez, Candido Fabré and others, the 30-something performer featured material from La Fórmula (AhíNamá) and early hits. "Soy yo el que manda," he shouted at the onset, instigating the crowd to clap. The modest dance floor filled immediately, as the 16-piece ensemble broke into orbit sparked by the timba-funk of six-string bassist Alfredo Hechavarría.

Three backup singers, a potent horn section (featuring veteran reedman-arranger Juan Manuel Ceruto), and a young rhythm section of guitar and drums in the back delivered music with swing and vigor. The familiar Catalina brought cheers as Irakere-type horn riffs served as a perfect counterpoint to Delgado's honey-tenor voice.

After a few choruses of his suave sonero inspirations, he brought down the dynamics of the band and a lanky young piano player received the spotlight: As Rolando Luna began his improvisational foray, his jazz leanings were obvious. Weaving fragmented ideas over a two-chord vamp, he was impressive and had more chops than the chart had room for. As he finished his montuno-charged solo he went out with cascading harmonic dissonance to cap his story.

Nadie Me Quiere Bailar came next with more open space for sax, flute and conga solos. Well seasoned, Delgado coordinates and delegates his band like Benny Moré did. The latter's Banda Gigante functioned as the artistic palate for his songs, and the same holds true for Delgado, who pushes his musicians to new heights. Literally with a flick of a wrist, he gains their attention, and they're ready for whatever he calls.