Just posting a quick note as Sean Barlow looks over my shoulders and we discuss Daara J who just performed here at globalFEST2006 in New York.  We both agree, these guys have great energy, a positive message, and totally engaged the audience, which covered the racial and generational spectrum.

More later.  Be sure to check out www.afropop.org

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Haiti!

Greetings Friends!

Happy Birthday to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. There is a tie in here to Haiti.

Shamless Promotion: At the end of this story, yes, I am going to recommend some music for you to buy. If you want to skip my long story and just go buy some great Haitian music from a classic artist named Dadou Pasquet, click here.

So, no, I'm not in Haiti, I'm in Boston working away on turning one of my passions into a full-time thing -- music (and dance) of course -- in my role as Chief Rhythm Officer of CalabashMusic. As you should know, Calabash sells music from all over the place--great music that you won't find on iTunes for a variety of reasons.

Anyway, after brainstorming, planning, strategizing, and swapping music selections with the Calabash team, I headed out salsa dancing in Boston -- at Harvard Square. And some of the squares at Harvard can dance (couldn't resist that pun). They had agood DJ (not a Tony O or Walt Digz mind you, but he had a nice mix, even a little Timba).

So, now to the Haiti part. My cab driver from the salsa club was Haitian. I mentioned that I knew some of the groups, and boom, he slaps in a CD mix of his own making with the latest greatest stuff. (Proudly, I recognized that I had a few tunes in my collection already).

He was thrilled that I was into the music and told me that I MUST go to the Roxy the next night in downtown Boston (on Tremont Street). He said it went from 8-2am and had live Haitian bands. In all my travels, I've had very few opportunities to see live Haitian acts, and had never been to an event with a large, Haitian crowd.

It's late, so I'm going to cut this short. I worked all day Sunday, and that night I showed up (via walking, bus, subway) to the Roxy in sweats, with my trademark Afro-shoes -- one red, one yellow. I stroll in at about 9:45 and the bouncer says, "Sir we have dress code", staring at my shoes.

"Oh, I'm here for the Haitian night", I say thinking/hoping that I was at the wrong place, and that I was not terribly underdressed. Well, yes and no. I was at the wrong place -- the club was downstairs; but, yes, I would later figure out, I was terribly underdressed.

I arrived into a big, loud, glittery, loud, empty, loud nightclub. Did I mention loud? There was nobody there, just the sound guys! The good news was that I was so early, I got in without paying the cover, and with my less-than-optimal clothes. Haitians dress nice when they go out, as do Africans. Come to think of it, most people do--I guess I'm a slouch--I like to dress casual, because I always wind up dancing and jumping around getting all sweaty.

Anyway, I introduced myself to one of the sound guys and we talk for a minute and he says, "You're not from Boston are you?"

"No, can you tell because of my accent?", I ask.

"No", he says, "it's because people in Boston aren't very friendly." First, let me say, no offense to Bostonians! They're great people, but I'll admit, they're a little harder to get to know. There is definitely a different vibe here that you don't just go making friends with the same ease that we seem to in California where I live. I think it may be because Californians are a bunch of transplants--so they're constantly moving, making new friends, etc.

People trickled into the club, little by little. I met a Puerto Rican guy who was with friends from Angola and Mozambique--so I tried out my rusty Portuguese on them. Since none of us were from Boston, we became fast friends :-) By 11:30 the club was PACKED -- 300-400 people. The sound system was as loud as anything I've heard in Trinidad -- and that's saying something.

The music was pumping, Konpa (or Kompa or Compa) from Haiti, Zouk from Cape Verde, Zouk from Martinique and Guadaloupe, and the occasional Soukous from the DRC (Democratic Republic of the Congo -- Kinshasha).

I was soon on the dancefloor (earplugs in place) getting instructions on the step from a woman named Geraldine. Unfortunately, she was too good. Because I had the basic step, she quickly progressed to very advanced steps that left her frustrated with her only-white-guy-in-the-club, mis-matched shoe-wearing, underdressed, Haitian wannabe. Well, the lesson was fun while it lasted. My newfound Boriqua and African friends soon had me dancing with some of their newfound Haitian friends, and I thought about how blessed I am.

After the second act, the DJ took us on a rather interesting musical tour that went places I might not even go with this crowd, from zouk to reggae to soca to..are you ready? ...the Eurythmics' song Sweet Dreams, and it seemed to work!

As the hour of midnight passed and we entered the official holiday celebrating Dr. King's birth, I also reflected about him, as I danced in this room full of Haitians in the city of Boston, this revolutionary city. Dr. King was the continuation of a long line in the battle for equality and justice, which included François-Dominique Toussaint L'Ouverture, who led Haiti's revolution for independence from France, the first Caribbean island to throw off the yoke of its colonizer. And thus, it was a perfect day and place for me to be expanding my musical horizons.

Now, if you would like to expand your musical horizons, check out Dadou Pasquet, by clicking this link. (FYI, we will be making significant improvements to the site and the buying process soon).

Thanks for your support!

Jim (SpinCycle)
Chief Rhythm Officer

Tags: konpa, kompa, compa, zouk, Haiti, Dadou Pasquet, SpinCycle

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