Well, I'm lying: I had it in my inbox then starred it & pushed it out for later.

2025 was not a year of tango for me and I'm glad it's behind me.

And listening to it, I felt like I'd never left.

La Mariposa is what Sexteto DiSarli would sound like if they recorded today. Unsure if that was the point but it may have been: the arrangements come very close. Except for one original vals, the album sends you back in time a hundred years and lets you eavesdrop on the roots of tango on the cusp of its Golden Age.

The music in detail

La Mariposa opens with a long-ish intro and carries itself reluctantly in a manner that suggests it's not meant for dancing. It does not set the tone of the album, however, or rather, it sets the tone but not the rhythm. And that's good since we need music for our feet not just hearts and ears.

The vals La Era de la Soledad is most likely an original composition as there's no mention of it on tango.info. Singer Megan Vorster appears and guides us through the piece gently. She's been with the band for a long time and gives the album distinctly warm, almost cuddly vibes. The vals is somewhat on the slower side, a few BPMs below the optimum range, and suggests that you move through the ronda comfortably rather than briskly.

Maldita is where the influence of Sexteto DiSarli becomes palpable and stays with us for the rest of the album. See for instance this TangoTunes compilation for a direct comparison of the following 4 tunes. The sound is cutesy, measured, sweet and sharp, much like the Sexteto. There are multiple ways to mix and match these four to get a solid tanda and each would make a good choice for a cozy afternoon milonga.

This is how I would compose it:

Flora - the key is C minor/major, BPM about 64. Good enough to get some attention. Does not tower above the rest; in fact, the first three are largely interchangeable in both musical and danceability terms.

Maldita could arguably be a stronger opener (by a hair or two) but placing it here lets me form a more satisfying harmonic progression. The key is G minor/major, 63 BPM.

Chau Pinela would follow next, would have to come next as the key is D minor/major (see what I did here?). 63 BPM again, so a perfect follow-up.

Cicatrices dips almost imperceptibly to 62 BPM and makes for a very satisfying closer. The key is B minor/major, and this harmonic progression is also my favorite (nerd alert: it would work even better if the previous song ended in D major since then we have a direct "relative key" relationship).

Next, we have two milongas! Silueta porteña is lovely as always, although you could question why it needed to be on the album. The arrangement is exactly what you'd expect it to be, save for a few fun piano riffs. The tune has been recorded and covered extensively. So why again? I would argue that Megan Vorster is what gives it the special flavor and reason to exist. One could conceivably form a tanda adding El llorón + Zorzal or Shoes from the previous releases that also feature this singer.

El llorón as a composition is not on the same level of genius as the Silueta; the arrangement makes it shine, however. Megan Vorster enters much earlier and steals the show while being perfectly on time & still blending with the band. Loved it.

To my knowledge, Sexteto DiSarli has recorded neither Gallo Ciego nor Tigre Viejo so we're officially out of "cover" territory.

Gallo Ciego is what you would do if you wanted to be the opposite of Tango Bardo. Where the Argentinians turn up the volume to 11, Berretín only hints, suggests, and keeps you guessing. As a musical joke, it made me chuckle; give it a listen and you'll know instantly what I mean. Would I play it for dancers? Perhaps. If there was room for a musical joke.

In Tigre Viejo, the band gets serious again, and we get a decent closer that does not break any new ground. The arrangement is probably Fresedo-forward. If you've read a few of my opinion-laden reviews, you'll know I bear a special grudge against Fresedo. Thankfully, the influence is mostly about the arrangement here and not so much the sound. Still, though, here's where I like what Tango Bardo does to the source material more. More punch, more oomph. But then, that would no longer be Tango Berretín. I guess this is one of those times when a band "spoils" a song for you for a very long time 🤷‍♂️.

In summary

La Mariposa is a sweet and comfort-inducing album. It's pleasant to listen to and is for the most part intended for consumption on the dance floor.

It makes for an important addition to the growing discography of Tango Berretín since each new release makes composing coherent tandas easier. That's especially true for valses and milongas that are typically under-represented on albums.

Now go and give it a listen - and for more from this band, check out my review of Tangos del Berretin.

You'll hear at most one tanda during your typical weekday milonga, and it will be a tango tanda. And I bet you it will start with Tres esquinas.

Their music is often inward-looking, lower energy, and the leader cannot rely on it for clear direction. It is there but very subtle. Its lyricism is understated and not nearly as expansive as that of Caló or Di Sarli.

If you want to hear what I mean, here's Quien tuviera 18 años:

Now, none of this applies to these valses!

This tanda is one of my favorites - I've played this over 30 times and cannot get enough of it. It's crisp, driven, and super clear!

Structure

1) Qué me pasará (1941, C major, 65 BPM)
2) Esquinas porteñas (1942, G minor/major, 68 BPM)
3) El espejo de tus ojos (1944, C minor, 69 BPM)

There are two things I like about the tanda and one I don't.

Like: the subtle speeding up & the consequent energy buildup. Like: the harmonic progression (I'm at my happiest when it's by the "dominant" like here).

Dislike: It starts in a major key and ends in minor. So it's a bit of a downer. I'd much rather end on a high note. You can't always have it all, I guess!

One way to avoid this would be to discard Qué me pasará, start with Esquinas porteñas (solid enough for an opener in my view), and squeeze Tristeza criolla in the middle. El espejo de tus ojos must be the last one as it has a slow ending (while the others do not).

Usage

Whenever you need a lyrical vals - I used to play this both early in the evening and toward the end. This being D'Agostino, it's still somewhat understated and won't fit when you need a total banger.

Photo by Pho Tomass

Well, I am a litle late to the party: Una Noche de Garufa came out in August. I did notice it then and finally found the time to review it now at the year's end.

The album is meticulously performed with a determination to never allow the band's enthusiasm to compromise their technique. Every note lands at the right time, pitch-perfect. And yet, it's never dry or, G*d forbid, boring.

The tracks are, with one exception, covers. They don't try to pretend otherwise. And to the extent that I might reach when trying to recreate the 1940s with 2020's technology, they are as veritable as they can be.

Let's see what we have here!

The music in detail

Ríe, payaso gets us in the mood, and it is a fast, sharp opener. D'Arienzo recorded this with Carlos Casares in 1940 and it's a blast. It also set an expectation regarding a singer who is missing here - the whole album is instrumental. The quartet fills in all the notes so you can let go of that expectation. I did - almost.

For an alternate take, consider one by Orquesta Silbando on the album "Mano sinistra" (you'll have to scroll manually, no direct link).

For a super alternate take, Ángel Vargas did it low-tempo in 1952, and if that doesn't defy your expectations, I don't know what else would.

Yapeyú is one of those tracks that should require a special license to play. Not all audiences can handle it with grace. Solo Tango gives it a veritable treatment - hard, fast, and not as angry as D'Arienzo's take was. You should still handle it with care, though.

Una noche de garufa continues at a very swift pace. It's not as rough as Tanturi's take - very precise but somewhat neutral and academic. I'd like it better if the band loosened up a bit here - let it rip! Like Tango Bardo did.

Don Juan is a better fit, upbeat and elegant, albeit again very fast. I suppose the arrangement draws from D'Arienzo's 1950 recording. What is lacks in novelty it compensates for in its danceability. It'll be a crowd-pleaser.

Mi natái is the first step outside of the "standard repertoire" on this album. Caló recorded it with Luis Tolosa in 1944, and that's pretty much it. It's a shame, the song is fantastic, and so is this cover! And since I've had no pre-conceived notions as to what it should sound like, I accepted the instrumental rendering without hesitation.

Tus labios me dirán reconstructs the recording of Biagi/Amor from 1945. Again, the band makes you forget that there's no singer here. I enjoyed the lyrical expression of the violin that took over the vocal lines.

El estribo is the 2nd Biagi cover, and the track could also be considered as non-standard or niche as it's not commonly covered, so a second bonus point here. The band nailed the style here: it is idiomatic Biagi through and through.

El yaguarón earns the third bonus point, and it won't be the last. Biagi recorded it in 1940, and he was the last to do so. I found Solo Tango's version 100% convincing - it made me tap my feet in anticipation.

The album concludes with two milongas.

*El latigo" shares its title with a tango recorded by Federico in 1952, but it sounds nothing like it, so I assume it's a coincidence. It's a playful, delightfully accented milonga performed with gusto. I loved the swift tempo! The track has everything that a milonga lover desires and made me take a long look at my library as I looked for possible tanda pairings.

Milonga la rotonda could be a candidate - I would probably open the tanda with this one. It starts with percussion, which made me suspect it would be a candombe, but it ain't. Once it gets going, the percussion disappears. Overall, it's a happy camper, guaranteed to loosen the facial expressions of leaders on the dancefloor.

In summary

By now we know that Solo Tango can perform any tango, vals, and milonga and if they wanted, they could recreate anything by Biagi, D'Arienzo, or Pugliese.

The question that always comes to mind is, is it worth it?

For some tracks, the answer is strongly in the affirmative. Unless you're a complete tango nerd with an extensive collection of CTA records, you're probably hearing Mi natái for the first time. So a cover gives a chance to propagate the tune into the future and helps keeping the tango canon wide and varied.

For Don Juan or Yapeyú, I'm not sure we need another take. Not on principle. A DJ might need just that, though, to complete a tanda, so there's that.

Fans of present-day tango music shouldn't (and do not) worry about these concerns. This album adds ten solid tracks that are all 100% milonga-worthy. Danceability is all that matters when couples get together and the ronda starts moving. And in this regard, Solo Tango did us all a solid - as always!

These covers explore the outermost extremes of expression that D'Arienzo's music allows, which is what Tango Bardo does to most if not all their covers. It still fits, though.

Pugliese and D'Arienzo are where Tango Bardo feel most at home. I can't tell if the old master would approve, but I certainly do - with a few reservations.

My main one, and it's been a stumbling block for a few months preventing me from writing this review, is more an emotional attachment than a judgment of this album. To Alberto Echagüe, with love - D'Arienzo's cantor from 1930s onward is irreplacable in my view.

This album is a mix of instrumental and vocal pieces, the latter accompanied by Roberto Minondi. Hey may not be Echagüe (and he can't), but he delivers.

Let's have a listen!

The music in detail

No mientas is hammered from all angles as is proper for the album's opener. It comes out faster and way more urgent than the 1938 original. And you can apply this description to the rest of the album: it's all turned up to eleven.

Jueves builds on the energy of D'Arienzo's repeat take from 1955 and doesn't actually add all that much to it, preferring rather to alter the arrangements subtly with trademark Bardo embellishments. To that point, I mean the violin, which may be the only constant in the group as other members come and go.

Humillación will hit you with a mix of emotions that are too showy to be believable. This, of course, is another installment of the "unrequited love" theme so often frequented by tango lyricists. I ran the lyrics through Google Translate to be sure, and yes, there is indeed a mismatch here.

Open the 1941 version and click near the middle of the track to get to Mauré singing "Odio este amor, que me humilló a tus antojos". I think he captured the protagonist's inner conflict with compassion whereas Minondi sounds like he's enjoying himself regardless of the topic.

Now, I'm splitting hairs here! As a piece of music for dancing, this works great! And I could say that about every other track on this album, and if I did just that, there would be no reason for this review.

Maipo cannot hide behind any later D'Arienzo's re-take from the 1950s, and so, yes, it's a bit over-the-top compared to the 1939 version but I think it might be close to what D'Arienzo would have done later on.

I remember composing a tanda with Ansiedad for my first or second DJ set ever, and twelve years later, this song still gives me shivers. Much more so than other pieces from the same period that visit the dance floor more often - like Pensalo bien.

It is primarily for this reason that I could not fully appreciate the Tango Bardo cover. It does a good job but there were no shivers. And again, we find the explanation in the lyrics: there is no anxiety in their interpretation ("anxiety" being the English translation of the Spanish title).

Even as the full lyrics don't make much sense to me (and I gave them the Google Translate treatment), there's again a mismatch here and also on purely musical terms.

If there was a cover where Tango Bardo should show some restraint, I think this was the one.

Oh well. Like I said in the preface, this is a special one for me and I don't think I could ever accept any cover of Ansiedad. Your conclusion might be different!

I have no such attachment to El cencerro. Again, it's faster and way more "out there" than the 1938 version, but so what: when you're putting together a fast rhythmical tanda, it will fit. And we almost have a full tanda here as both Maipo and Jueves would happily tag along, with Jueves most likely taking the lead.

There's one more instrumental here and we'll see whether it could complete the tanda!

Meanwhile, there are three remaining vocal covers to consider.

Amarras surprised me in that Tango Bardo decided to take a break from their relentless pursuit and did a happy, moderate cover that does justice to the 1944 original. The vibes are all rainbows and unicorns. I liked it that way, and I did not look up the lyrics this time to keep it that way!

Recall my dig above re: Pensalo bien? Here's the the full disclosure: I think it's overrated and, worse, boring!

And to their credit, Tango Bardo satisfied me way more with their theatrical presentation than what D'Arienzo recorded in 1938. It's got more beat and more oomph and I think it belongs here!

May this compensate for my inverse reaction to Ansiedad: I do, in the end, try to perform a service to the tango bands of the 21st century and spread the word such that tango can retain its claim to life.

Si supiera que la extraño rescues a song that D'Arienzo recorded with Armando Laborde in 1945. I don't know about you, but Laborde's singing always has me looking for an anti-depressant, and I don't have any.

Minondi is a better fit: he doesn't take the lyrics too seriously, thank God! The mood is dark but not over-powering. I think the outcome is better musically and won't drain the dancers' energy like the original would.

Loca is where Tango Bardo is at its best. They can go crazy with their embellishments, they can probe the phrases to see how far they can stretch them, and Loca will happily oblige. Unlike Este es el Rey which, when taken to its extremes, will have people flying out of the ronda in no time, we are still in danceable territory here.

Its usability for tanda-making purposes is somewhat questionable as it starts with a 46-seconds long intro, and you would typically want Loca to come last, and therefore without any delays.

This is not a blemish on an otherwise perfect cover but a challenge that a DJ must overcome with some clever planning.

In summary

D'Arienzo Anticrisis is a fun addition to the growing repertoire of Tango Bardo and has a ton of potential when combined with their earlier albums.

They came back to D'Arienzo for more and found material that fits their style and temperament.

It's a solid release that may not break any new ground but combined with their existing recording adds more of the same and creates new tanda opportunities. And that's something that always makes my day!

We can count our lucky stars whenever a new tango release comes out, and doubly so when it does not contain Piazzolla. So I'm happy, even though it's only six tracks. Six is more than zero!

You can rely on Romantica working hard for your bodily enjoyment on the dance floor. Nobody really needs this review; if you like them, you'll like this stuff.

The music in detail

Last Tango in Paris features an instrumental cover of the popular tune from the 1972 movie with Marlon Brando.

Romantica does this very well, and I think it's one of their biggest strenghts. People already love these songs, and now they get to dance to them!

Buscándote is one of the few Fresedo tunes I can stomach, and counts among the top favorites of contemporary tango bands - few can resist the temptation to make a cover.

Antonella Alfonso, in her possibly first recording with Romantica, blends seamlessly with the band and delivers a pleasant experience. I quite like the female take on the theme; it fits its elegant characteristic and paints with gentle, calming tones.

Romantica recorded Fuimos already - in 2020 with Ximena Gimenez. I'm not sure if I like her or Antonella Alfonso better. Can I like both of them? Sure I can!

For the record, Pugliese's 1946 rendering with Roberto Chanel is not necessarily binding in Romantica's opinion. It's miles away in terms of its arrangement, and that's okay. They opted for a decidedly uncomplicated, optimistic interpretation and it totally makes sense.

Maipo starts with a long-ish piano intro, and the piano has a certain honky-tonky quality that made me grin. I found it satisfying, although not particularly memorable. You've probably danced to D'Arienzo's 1939 version, so you pick your favorite.

That said, you don't need originality to make dancers happy, so whatever the cover might lack there it more than enough supplies in the enthusiasm department. Sitting down, I might pass, but I'd hate to be left standing on a milonga with this track opening an instrumental tanda!

And now for something completely different: Sangre de mi sangre.

If you've danced to probably the only previous recording of it, the 1956 version by Edgardo Donato c. Raúl Angeló, you can call yourself a true tango nerd! 🤓 I tried DJing it once - not sure what the reception was back then, but I haven't tried since. Late Donato can be tricky to get right and is definitely not suitable for all audiences.

Romantica recreated the tune in a way that I think has better chances of finding happy customers. It's not as dark as Donato without compromising its lyrical qualities. I liked the singer Marc Bellini, for whom it's possibly also his first appearance on Romantica's records; he's expressive enough and does not overdo it.

Sure, if you want to go to the darkest place, read the lyrics and listen to the Donato instead. Your call. I'll probably stick to the Romantica's version from now on.

Todo is a strong closer to the album. Even as I love the Laurenz/Podestá recording, I could appreciate this more forceful, sharper rendition. Chances are that you will, too!

In closing

When Romantica releases a new album, I know I can buy it right away without checking it first on the streaming platforms.

They are proud populists and never betray your confidence. As a milonguero, you know that whatever they do, your needs come first.

I don't take that for granted.

From their debut album recorded in 2011 to "Se Encendieron Los Colores" released in August 2023, there's a consistent trend towards a modern yet very melodic reimagining of tango. Their style neither clings to traditional arrangements nor seeks to deconstruct them in a post-modern fashion.

Think of it this way: if someone has just created the tango genre in 2010s, it might very well sound like Tango Spleen!

To emphasize this point: Mariano Speranza, the band leader, composed six of the nine tracks on this album. That level of originality is rare nowadays and worthy of praise.

The music in detail

Nueve de julio is instantly recognizable in both shape and form and might be the only straightforward "cover" on the album. With a brisk tempo of 70 BPM, it's one of the fastest renditions except for a roughly 20-second section starting at around 1'15". Although I generally prefer regular tempos, I believe this tempo 'dip' should be manageable on the dance floor. Great opener to a fast instrumental tanda!

In Carnaval de mi Barrio, Mariano Speranza, the band leader, takes the mic to showcase Tango Spleen's ability to revive an aging tune. They add as much passion and expression as the piece can absorb, without overdoing it. At first glance, the song might seem familiar, but pay attention to the subtle counterpoints and rhythmic play the band engages in while Mariano sings. I found it delightful and inspiring to dance.

The vals Elva quickly made it to the top of my list of favorite contemporary valses, and although this list isn't very long, I feel strongly about it. When DJing for traditional audiences, I often play contemporary valses or milongas to add variety, while keeping the tango tandas closer to the Golden Age style. Elva is a very welcome addition to my repertoire, and I find myself liking it more with each listen.

It has all the elements that tanguer*s love about vals: an awesome "kick", strong lyricism, and a kind of "infectious" vibe that's hard to describe but instantly recognizable when felt. I would pair it with Ángela and Lágrimas y sonrisas from their 2018 album "Contatto."

Barro y Spleen descends from the Piazzolla branch of tango and has a lot of sharp edges. While convincing on purely musical merits, it might find fewer willing bodies to recreate its beats with four feet, hearts connected. If I could wave a magic wand and erase Piazzolla from history, I would; even from his grave, he keeps seducing young musicians to stray from the righteous path of danceable tango!

Your assessment might vary, of course, and I'm not pretending to be objective here. Barro y Spleen is a splendid musical mystery that will find its audience. And if I later find out that people love dancing to it, I'll be happy to stand corrected!

The milonga La musa del arrabal is a strange beast and I still feel conflicted about it. Previously released as a single, it has the right tempo around 102 BPM and you can hear the underlying milonga beat most of the time.

That said, I feel that the song pushes me a bit too forcefully and fear what the impact on the ronda would look like. I close my eyes and see chaos 😁. Perhaps it's the subtle underlying percussion that adds this intensity. Then again, being a milonga candombe, this is on brand. With the right crowd, this could turn out to be a lot of fun; proceed with caution.

Part of the issue is that we get so few milongas during the course of a traditional TTVTTM night. So the DJ has to be really picky about which songs to play, and unfortunately, they tend to be rather conservative since there are so few milonga milongueros out there. If it were up to me, every other tanda would be a milonga tanda. And in that scenario, I would be happy to put La musa del arrabal to the test!

You may have danced to Tu pálida voz as recorded by Canaro in 1943 or by Di Sarli in 1953. Both versions are lovely, despite their dangerously slow tempos. Personally, I would overrule the author's intent and boost the BPMs by at least 5.

Tango Spleen's cover does not go in that direction and while we hear a female voice (feat. Sarita Schena), the vibes are very relaxed here. It caresses you gently throughout, evoking feelings of being loved and cared for.

The milonga Pegadiza has all it takes to win over appreciative milonga fans. The tempo sits in the golden spot at around 102 BPM and its rhythmical structure is extremely conducive to playful moves. As an original track, I feel it would pair very well with Baillamo by Andariega, even though these bands have distinct styles. Obviously, you'd have to get luck to dance in a milonga-positive community that is also progressive enough for this to work but boy, would this work!

Chacarera de la Paz is, well, a chacarera. I'm mindful of the appeal of the Argentine folkore to tango festival-goers even as I sit these out. If you're in need of a fresh new chacarera, you'll find plenty to like here!

Finally, Un después. It shares some drama with Barro y Spleen without venturing too far away from the dance floor. The sense of urgency in this piece is palpable, showcasing how to construct a powerful narrative that challenges dancers without making overwhelming demands. As the album's finale, I feel it would also work as the concluding piece in a complex, dramatic tanda.

Final thoughts

I am delighted that Tango Spleen has shifted their focus back to dancers after their last album, Vamos a la Distinacia, paid tribute to the old devil Piazzolla, much to my chagrin.

With one or two exceptions that I would make but you might not, this albums broadens the repertoire of any progressive tango DJ who cares about helping tango live longer.

I find the Italian flair of Tango Spleen highly addictive. It's more approachable than German tango bands, which can be sometimes too academic in their precision, and does not take their expression to the extremes that the Argentines are wont to do (looking at you, Romantica!)

Thank you, Tango Spleen, for also making so much original contribution to the sparse repertoire of new, original tango music! This is not an easy feat, I'd imagine, given that we live in an era that is so much different from when tango was originally conceived. For this, I am very grateful, and I encourage all of you to join me in dancing to Tango Spleen's vibes.

And in an alternate world where tango enjoys the same level of popularity as today's popular music, they would be.

Cuarteto SolTango recorded the album with Leonel Capitano who, by many accounts, best captures the essence of a Golden Age tango singer. He's featured on all tracks except for two instrumentals, which include Chiqué and, astonishingly, A la luz del candil (recall Di Sarli's collaboration with Jorge Durán to understand my surprise).

Poesía is here, and it is a masterpiece.

One remarkable thing that I must highlight is their choice of repertoire. Whereas a typical new tango release contains predominantly well-known songs (such as: Buscándote, El huracán, etc.), this one takes a more varied approach to the tango heritage. You'll hear songs that don't make it onto milonga playlists very often, such as Vieja recova and En carne propia. The cuarteto has done us a tremendous service by giving these songs another chance in the 21^st century

And no, these are not some "buried treasures" that would only excite tango researchers. Milongueros will love them!

Now, let's listen to it together.

The music in detail

Vieja recova leads the album. It's neither D'Arienzo's nor Pugliese's arrangement but rather Salgán's. You are unlikely to hear Orquesta Horacio Salgán at milongas, and for good reasons; his work could be very intellectual, often to the detriment of danceability. Cuarteto SolTango's take should not share this fate; if anything, Leonel Capitano is utterly pleasant to listen to unlike Ángel Díaz, whose mannerisms strike me as annoying.

Desvelo hasn't made it into the tango canon, even though it was first recorded by Gardel in 1924. There's one Golden Age version by Rodio/Serna from 1944, another by Troilo/Ruiz, neither one very convincing. The one you've most likely heard was Pugliese/Morán.

It is this arrangement that SolTango chose. It flows a bit slower and as I started listening to it, I worried it might veer into the canción territory, but it didn't; the beat is solid. The cuarteto did not copy Pugliese's nervous ticks nor did Capitano want to imitate Morán—they made Pugliese's arrangement their own.

It's much less... despondent; while Morán sounds like he was on the brink of taking his life, Capitano dispenses with such theatrics. There's still some residual pain in his retelling of the story; just enough to convey the feeling and choosing not to get carried away by the sheer bleakness of the lyrics.

Mientras gime el bandoneón was apparently only recorded once, which I find hard to believe given how powerful the song is, but other than Troilo/Ruiz, it looks like nobody else took a shot. Until now—SolTango recreated Troilo's arrangement with precision and a lot more clarity. It's more than a "cover", and this applies to the whole album; the band followed the same arrangement and at least in this case, made it sound better than the original.

Copas, amigas y besos places our cuarteto in a more competitive landscape. You may have danced to Biagi's, Canaro's, or Troilo's versions. SolTango chose to remake Troilo here, too, which seems to me the right choice again. The arrangement lends itself really well to the cuarteto's virtuosity and El Capitano shows that there's no need to overly dramatize the phrases to drive the message home.

In A la luz del candil, the cuarteto takes time off to play more for listening than for dancing. It's a beautiful concert on the theme of one of the better-known songs of the tango canon. Don't get me wrong: you could dance to it if you so desired! I found the interplay of the instruments and the phrasing compelling—it is catchy, it is memorable. That it did not beckon me to dance is more a reflection of my taste than any indisputable characteristic of this track.

Continuing the theme of this album, the vals Flor de lino isn't an evergreen piece you'd hear on every milonga. Caló recorded it with Iriarte, but that's not the source of the cuarteto's arrangement: most likely, the Troilo/Ruiz version was.

They play it a tad slower than Troilo and somewhat softer, too; it's a risky move for a vals that demands accented, clear beats, but somehow they made it work. It helps that the beat is very regular and easy to predict as a result.

Alas, we'll need to wait (and ask for) one or more albums with El Capitano to make a tanda! I find the singer so distinct and unique that I would rather not mix this with other bands.

With Farol (not to be confused for Farolero, Farolito, or Farolito de papel), the band turns the compass back to Osvaldo Pugliese, who recorded it with Roberto Chanel in 1943. As with their other remakes of Pugliese, they do not try to out-compete him by turning the drama dial to eleven, which they wisely avoid; doing so for early 1940s Pugliese wouldn't serve the music justice. They spin the phrases with precision and restraint, making suggestions rather than issuing commands. This, and Leonel Capitano's elegant singing makes it comfortable on the dance floor; dancing Pugliese should not always be an adrenaline-fueled rush!

Vamos corazón continues the lineup of lesser-known songs that could otherwise be forgotten. Canaro recorded it and so did Fresedo; not sure which was the source here as I can't bring myself to listen to Fresedo's music. This, however, is an optimistic, pleasurable affair that I would very much like to relive on the dance floor! Please, please, let's have more happy tangos! 😅

One could argue that Doble castigo should've been contained in the tango archives. Only Salgán recorded it, and while I can sympathize with the band's interest in his complex, brainy arrangements, this is definitely on the heavier side. It demands that the leader be fully engaged at all times. You decide whether that would be worth your time: there is a potential payoff here for a subgroup of dancers who can digest, and appreciate, the intricate phrasing.

En carne propia reveals another facet of Cuarteto SolTango. Up to this point, their execution has been meticulous and, to some extent, restrained and sober. Here, it's as if they've had a glass of red wine (just one) and broadened their emotional range. This isn't the theatricality that Romantica Milonguera often indulges in; their German precision remains intact. They also seem anchored by El Capitano, who steadies the ship once he takes the stage.

As far as I can tell, the arrangement is again drawn from Troilo, who recorded this with Alberto Marino in 1946. Another notable version is by Federico/Vidal from the same year. The cuarteto has breathed new life into this nearly forgotten song!

The excitement curve stays high in Chiqué. Unlike the songs we've heard so far, this one has a multitude of Golden Age and later versions. Yet it's a rendition that feels unique and fresh because the cuarteto opted for an arrangement you've probably never danced to: Francini-Pontier's.

Like Salgán, Orquesta Francini-Pontier has been consigned to the tango archives. Even if a track or two might merit a modern dancer's attention, the sound quality of existing transfers is dismal. This gave SolTango an opportunity to explore and showcase the merits of the arrangement, and I must say, I'm sold!

It has shades of latter-day Pugliese and demands my attention, reciprocating with a wealth of emotional nuances that I can channel on the dance floor. It's not without risks; as a DJ, I'd exercise caution when selecting this track for a regular milonga. But let's just say I'd be tempted to play it should the right occasion present itself.

Sin lágrimas has the potential to be a very weepy tune, and I was pleased that the cuarteto opted for nostalgia rather than inducing suicidal thoughts—not that I expected anything schmaltzy from them at this point! It's a refined cover of Pugliese's rendition that is classy, restrained, yet clearly communicates the intended emotion.

To be clear, I also love Pugliese's version; I was referring to what could have been, debating with my imaginary opponent as I'm prone to do.

I didn't care much for Pugliese's De vuelta al bulín, and the cuarteto's cover hasn't changed my opinion much. Back in 1951, Alberto Morán shouted his words almost angrily. Leonel Capitano maintains his usual cool, although he does let off some steam. The issue is that the song's rhythmic complexity doesn't come with a melodic payoff. I couldn't bring myself to care much about all the drama 😉. Needless to say, your assessment might differ, and that's OK!

Milonga triste is neither a milonga nor a piece for most traditionally-minded playlists. Likely based on the Edmundo Rivero's version, it's a chilled-out tune meant for sitting-down enjoyment. That's not to say that it wouldn't work for your nuevo friends!

Ropa blanca, however, is most definitely a milonga, and a wonderful one at that!

This tune has been waiting for the right orquesta to reveal its true worth, and it found it in Cuarteto SolTango.

Ricardo Malerba, the composer, did an okay job with Orlando Medina in 1943. It's better than mediocre, but given that only a minority of dancers get up for a milonga tanda, it needs to be more than just okay.

Troilo's version is much sharper and generally delivers what's needed. If he had a better singer than Marino, I'd consider that the canonical version.

Don't get me started on Demare/Berón; the beats are confusing and seem influenced by other, non-milonga traditions. Pass.

Cuarteto SolTango knows how to perform a fantastic milonga; they've proven it before. The tempo spot-on at 107 BPM, the accents are crisp and clear, and the song joyfully races toward a very satisfying conclusion. Thank you, thank you, thank you! 💖

To close the album, the band chose El último organito, the opening notes of which evoke Organito de la tarde before taking a different direction. Likely based on the Troilo/Rivero arrangement from 1949, the song gives more space for Leonel Capitano to lead—he's very much the star here. He deserves it; after all, he's been the cantor de orquesta for all but two of the vocal pieces on the album, which in today's age is unprecedented and deserving of extra praise.

In summary

If you don't own your copy of Poesía by now, then I have utterly failed to convey the album's greatness!

Here are at least three reasons to back up my claim:

1. Leonel Capitano's sensitive, masterful yet restrained expression blends seamlessly with the orquesta in true Golden Age fashion.
2. The band's choice of repertoire brings many forgotten tunes back to life that other bands overlook.
3. While capable of impressing concert audiences with their technical skills, they've devoted this album to dancers and rarely veer off track.

Unfortunately, Cuarteto SolTango is not on Bandcamp. You can find them on Spotify and Apple Music. I bought my copy on iTunes (no link available).

So go get yours. Listen. Dance. Spread the word!

Later, when it would hit me that I was somewhat unfair in my sweeping generalization, I might be compelled to add: "But the Argentinians are much more connected with us dancers" to compensate for what I couldn't take back.

Sweeping or not, there's a lot you could defend in both statements. Let's take a look at a band from Sweden, Tangótica, and see how much either argument applies.

Tango from the Nordics

In their own words, "Tangótica is the powerful child of a surprising union between Tango and Jazz." And if you've listened to jazz music more than occasionally, you'll know that the genre is, perhaps surprisingly, well-established in the Nordics.

Judging by this statement alone, I would approach the listening session with my eyebrows firmly raised. Making a union between tango and anything else suggests to me that the musicians are more interested in their creative expression than in playing "just" for dancers.

Like it or not, us dancers are simple creatures, easily scared by unfamiliar phrases, instruments that do not belong, and or indeed anything else but a steady, regular beat. Adding foreign elements like those from jazz could mean that the target audience shrinks to that which visits nuevo/neo events and generally holds the classical tango in contempt.

Thankfully, that's not where Tangótica ends up.

Let's have a listen to their two albums available on Bandcamp, Sexteto Tang​ó​tica and Variations.

What to expect

The bandleader, Love Nilsson, is a professional saxophone player, and I wouldn't even need to look at the bios to know that his mates are all pros as well.

That's not a prerequisite for playing music for dancing, but it is for playing consistently in tune, and in tune, they play! 👄

It goes much further than that. Did I say saxophone? The arranges gave it a leading role in lieu of a singer who's missing. This is not a canonical tango instrument as it is in jazz, and somehow it's totally OK! I expected that it will sound foreign and out of place, and it does not.

Surprise number two: despite their claim to fuse make a union of tango and jazz, this is very much tango in all the ways where it matters. And when they play for dancing, they mean it.

The catch?

The albums have something to offer for two different audiences. There are profane pieces that are meant for milongas. And then there's concert tango, such as arrangements of Piazzolla, Pugliese, or late Troilo. You might enjoy their vibes deeply without any intent to recreate them with your feet.

As I have little to say about concert tango, I'll focus on the songs that moved me to dance while encouraging you to listen to the rest and make up your own mind. Your selection might be very different.

The music in detail

The first four tracks we'll cover come from the debut album, Sexteto Tang​ó​tica.

Qué falta que me hacés, which Caló recorded with Alberto Podestá in 1963 (making it somewhat tricky to fit in a coherent tanda), comes alive without a singer. Love's saxophone does the heavy lifting in retelling the story. I loved the deep registers; I'm no expert in wind instruments, and if I were to guess, he plays several kinds as needed.

Laurenz's Milonga de mis amores sprints at breakneck speed of about 120 beats per minute and does so with so much ease it's hard to believe it wasn't altered in post-production. Instead of saxophone, we hear the flute leading the flock of birds here - picture hummingbirds if you can't listen right away. For those of us who love very fast milongas, this is a treat!

Fresedo's El espiante is the most easy-going, and one might say "frivolous" piece of the two albums, and I mean it as a compliment. It starts with a train-like whistle, though not as long as Fresedo's, and then proceeds at a faster pace that I found very appropriate. We hear the flute again delivering the melody as well as the occasional whistle. I found this whole affair irresistible, and adorable! 😍

While not strictly conventional in any way, I could not resist but to include Lacrymosa in my selection even though I'd have fewer opportunities to offer it to my dancers.

It is a vals cover of the last movement of Mozart's Requiem that Mozart wrote himself (the rest was completed by his disciple Franz Xaver Süssmayr). I admire the audacity this arrangement must have taken! One does not simply cover Mozart. And yet, the result is tasteful, if a little funny at first.

It would even be naturally danceable if it weren't for its very slow beats clocking at ~ 50 BPM.

There's a lot more on this album: Danzarin, La bordona, Zum, La yumba... They are beautifully produced and very moving; it's just that they are "across the line" that I draw between tangos for dancing vs listening.

The second album, Variations, has a similarly split focus.

The rendition of Adiós corazón is breathtaking in its beauty. When Love's saxophone joins to sing the melody, it's so mellow, so smooth it sounds almost like a clarinet - and it sounds like it belongs. Then later when the main theme repeats, he brings up what might've been a bass saxophone, definitely one with a very deep register, a delivers a jazz-like improvisation while the beats go on. Even with this notable cross-over, I feel like even very orthodox dancers would be visibly moved by this piece.

Milonga orillera is a cover of Orillera by Canaro's "Quitento Pirincho" delivered with fidelity and even more bravado. We hear some jazz-like improvisation here and there, but overall the milonga runs its course with regularity and should please milonga aficionados everywhere. Hopefully, the next album will gift us another milonga to make a tanda! 🙏

Mi dolor starts with urgent staccatos and both the violin and Love's saxophones retell the story in very compelling terms. The occasional improvisation adds to the suspense without breaking the beat. I was completely sold by this cover!

Ilusion de mi vida sounded so familiar to me I was sure I had the prior versions of this vals in my library. To my astonishment, I found none. There are supposedly recordings by Brunelli, Salgán, and Color Tango, but I'd be shocked if I heard either at a milonga.

Be that as it may, this is a delightful vals made for dancing and guaranteed to force even the most serious dancers to smile as they rotate on the dancefloor.

Let's finish our review with Ojos negros, an imaginative reinterpretation of a rather dark son that maxes out the suspense and ventures into the "nuevo" territory. I was captivated throughout even as I had to admit that this is not an everyday milonga material. And if you feel differently, there are other songs on the album that I haven't included as they fall outside of my DJing range: Adios nonino, Lo que vendrá, ... Again, I encourage you to go beyond my selection and give the whole album your attention: you'll be rewarded with a unique musical experience. And who knows, maybe you can dance to beats that I can't interpret myself!

Closing thoughts

I often feel silly when trying to describe the state of consciousness that happens when you listen to music. Words are ultimately failing at this job, and could they not? I admit this freely as my goal is not so much to write compelling prose as it is to inspire you, the dancer, to give a chance to tangos as they are being played and recorded today.

It should be clear now that Tang​ó​tica is a band that deserves a lot of attention. I haven't heard them play live, and I'd be very curious to see how they connect with dancers.

That might be easier for the Argentinian bands that grew up inside the culture they are interpreting as opposed to us transplants. I'd imagine that having the opportunity to frequently perform for a domestic audience that is fluent in the idioms you're speaking must give one a big advantage.

Listening to their most danceable pieces, I nevertheless feel that Tang​ó​tica would have no problems casting spells and charming their dancing audience. Perhaps I'll one day have the chance to verify this with my feet; for now, let me conclude that I'm awaiting their next album, whenever it may come, with great anticipation.

Sympathies of present-age dancers and DJs come and go, but somehow I don't feel this judgment is likely to change. And if you listen to his tangos with Julio Martel, for instance, I wouldn't blame you if you were to agree. They feel bleak and depressing and there's no catharsis to be had.

I emptied a ronda one time with a De Angelis/Martel tanda, and even if you could do this well with better timing, I'd still consider his 1940s tangos a high-risk/uncertain-reward type of deal.

In my view, De Angelis rose musically speaking as the Golden Era came to an end. Today, I present an admittedly "darker" vocal tanda of four tangos that he recorded with Oscar Larroca.

Structure

1) En tus brazos (1954, G minor)
2) Volvamos a empezar (1953, C minor)
3) Cómo nos cambia la vida (1953, G minor)
4) Pasional (1951, C minor)

The first three tracks run at about 63 BPM while the closer ups the clock a little at 65 BPM. Harmonically speaking, this tanda forms a compelling pattern of switching between C and G keys, which in my opinion adds to its urgency.

At first, I was unsure about using Pasional at all. Pugliese's Pasional is towering above De Angelis's take menacingly. That said, it's also about context, and this isn't a Pugliese tanda. And unlike Pugliese, the beats are strictly regular, adding to its danceability.

Would I much rather listen to Pugliese's Pasional? No doubt. Here, I'm hoping that the comparatively understated version by De Angelis still provides a convincing ending.

Usage

We get a compelling mix of strong beats and expressive lyricism that we can best experience when the night has progressed and we're ready for its energy. It asks a lot from the dancers, so placing this after a more moderate tanda and perhaps before valses might be a good option.

I've danced to a few combinations of this tanda in Prague, and the floor was always full.

Later works by De Angelis and Godoy might be too far off the beaten path, but this is from the early 1950s and should be acceptable even in conservative communities.

photo credit by Yigit ARISOY

A tanguero who is not a fan of theirs might counter: this is why they sound the same no matter what they play!

Oh really? Doesn't Mr. Biagi always sound like Mr. Biagi?

Let's see whether we can resolve the argument as here comes their take on the work of Miguel Caló: Ella y Caló. Released on May 5, 2023, it features a "disco tanda" of Miguel Caló covers in the style of... Tango Bardo.

Unlike Orquesta Típica Sans Souci, this band does not pay homage to grandmaster Caló directly. Rather, They adopt the arrangements and add their own idiosyncracies and phrasing while leaving the underlying message intact.

They don't shoot through them with a machine gun like Andariega would. Rather, they take each phrase and squeeze it much, much harder than Caló ever did.

That said, never do they slip into parody! This time, they no nowhere as far as they did with Fresedo's Viejo tigre, which - ironically or perhaps tragically? - I am unable to enjoy in its original form after subscribing to how they reimagined it.

Now, what does "Ella" in "Ella y Caló" mean here? It means the singer here is of the female persuasion - Antonela Alfonso. This is her first appearance on Tango Bardo recordings, and I sure hope not the last one!

Let's see what they have in store for us!

The music in detail

Before we proceed, it's worth noting that the four-piece EP set can be used as-is by busy DJs. The tempos average 61 BPM, and the harmonic keys oscillate between C (minor/major) and G (minor/major), which are a pleasing five degrees apart from each other.

The EP opens with Al compás del corazón. You've danced to it many times, either on Caló's version or Di Sarli's.

The song starts abruptly - as though it continues a conversation that we were not privy to. If it had a more gradual introduction, it would work better as the opener as it would allow us to ease into the music while catching the last-minute cabeceo.

Then again, this is not Sans Souci. Tango Bardo takes no prisoners.

When it comes to Lluvia de Abril, I hadn't thought I'd ever be open to its reinterpretation. There aren't that many covers to begin with; strangely enough, this lyrical gem doesn't get nearly as much love as it deserves!

Even if not without reservations, I grudgingly admitted that yes, there's more to say on the subject. The abruptness and directness of Tango Bardo's phrasing may have brought out the hidden energy of the song that I didn't even know was there. By contrast, in the original version by Caló, this energy may have been too timid or understated.

The mystery of Caló's Después is nearly gone as the Bardoneons apply their high voltage to the tune. In this song, as in all the others, the urgency of the instrumentalists contrasts sharply with the ever-so-gentle singing of Antonela Alfonso. The members of Tango Bardo create a sense of urgency and intensity with their playing, while Antonela's soft vocals add a contrasting element of tenderness and vulnerability.

The closer is Corazón no le hagas caso. By this point, the dancers have either fully embraced the band's powerful musical style or found it too overwhelming to dance to. as the tune is carried forward with the same intensity and expressiveness as the tracks preceding it.

The music carries forward with the same intensity and passion as the tracks preceding it, creating a sense of momentum that carries the dancers along. However, as the song draws to a close, the pace gradually slows down, creating a sense of peacefulness and resolution that makes it an ideal closer. The dancers can rest in their embrace as the music comes to its final stop and have a moment to reflect before they part ways.

Final thoughts

The degree to which you'll come to appreciate this album depends very much on your priors.

Coming to it with the expectation to re-live the original recordings with just a few modifications and a lot better sound quality is not advisable. And if you are a first-time listener, I recommend starting with Rustico, for example, which contains source material that better matches their insatiable energy (their Pugliese and D'Arienzo covers are phenomenal).

The advantage of not sticking to one's preconceptions is that you get to enjoy these four songs in a new light. The grandmasters said all they had to say and we're not bound to their legacy just as they weren't bound to relive the early 1900s or even the pre-modern tango of the 1800s. And even as the phrasing and musical expression of Tango Bardo take a radical departure from Caló's, the bulk of the musical ideas are in place.

If I should summarize it, it's not a cover, it's not a remix or a deconstruction but a more liberal reimagining that paints the same picture with different colors.

As you can probably infer from my somewhat conflicted remarks above, I hesitate to fully endorse this album. Its energy might be too intense for my everyday needs. What I can state with full confidence is that it is made for dancing and when the right moment comes at a milonga, it will create a very satisfying experience. On a spectrum from "easy" to "hard" tandas in terms of risk, this one's going to be on the latter side. The rewards, however, might very well compensate for that!

When I say "highly populist," I mean it as a compliment!

As chance would have it, it came out at the end of March - just one day before I left Prague for New York. What a delightful present, if I can make this about me for just a minute!

After examining their discography, I discovered that Conjunto Berretin's first recording was in 2004 ("Tango for Lovers and Fools", which is unfortunately not available on Bandcamp), so it has been nearly 20 years. That's a long time for a tango band given that unlike in Canaro's times, one does not simply become a millionaire playing tango for dancers nowadays.

As a special treat, singer Megan Yvonne joins the group for not one, not two, but seven out of the eleven tracks. She redefines the otherwise "classicist" arrangements, of hits such as Fueron tres años and Nada, with her mellow alto voice, yet remains a "Cantor de orquesta" and never claims any extra attention.

This is far from common as the singers became stars in the 1950s and never really ceded the ground since. Compare with Romantica Milonguera, whose singers are front and center.

The music in detail

The group is compact, counting just five instrumentalists on most tracks, yet punches far above its weight and paper limitations. I never felt a longing for more sound on any of the arrangements, such as the expansive Nada.

The album opens with Pedacito de cielo. It flows a tad slower than Miguel Caló's 1942 recording, moving at a relaxed walking pace. That leaves a little more room for the motive to breathe and caress you tenderly. A few times, you'll hear "exotic" harmonic progressions, and they're used as a spice and not the main course, so the original theme is preserved.

I wish there were one or more valses to form a coherent tanda. What we do from the album "Tangos in English" also features Megan Yvonne, and I love it so much that I asked my wife to dance it with me at our wedding last year. As for the third one, I have the option to wait for a future release or look into Conjunto's early material such as "CB Vals" from 2004, which, alas, has a different singer. Oh, the mental anguish of a DJ, never to be extinguished! 🤣

Fueron tres años was immortalized by Varela's recordings with Ledesma (1956) and Falcón (1973), although the latter is arguably too dramatical for a regular milonga. The conjunto turns the drama-o-meter back a few notches, which helps danceability without hurting the source material. I mean, "it's been three years," sure, but one must eventually get over it, right?

Zorzal is an early peak of the album, though far from being the only one! A long-time reader will know that I am a milonga-head and a (milonga nerd), and not just vicariously - I love it when I arrive at a milonga and a milonga tanda starts; instead of my usual vacillating, I pick the nearest lone lady whose legs are tapping the floor and weave into the ronda at the earliest opportunity.

So then, Zorzal, yes - I'm not a big fan of Di Sarli's rendition, or indeed Di Sarli's milongas in general as they are lacking in the "punch" department (or do I just like them faster?) Don't take me wrong, they are delicious; they just leave me hungrier after the dance instead of sated. Like a salad, I suppose. In this case, I really need the burger if you follow my drift.

Conjunto delivers Zorzal just like I'd always want it to be! It's about 5% faster but at least 50% sharper and still tells the same story. I can barely sit in my chair writing this as I listen to it.

That the conjunto won't go crazy with their arrangements is obvious when Nada comes up. It is similar in spirit to Di Sarli's version and not at all over-excited compared to Romantica Milonguera's. It feels just about right unless, obviously, you do feel the need to amp up the excitement here.

If that's your vibe, this album could feel like it's holding back a bit. Again, there's Romantica Milonguera for those occasions.

Continuing in the same spirit, Fumando espero, mostly known for its 1950s versions such as Varela's and Di Sarli's, carries itself with dignity, refusing to succumb to pathos. And that's not because it's too intellectual or dry; the band plays for dancers 100% of the time. It's as if the arranger realized that the extremes of expression had already been reached and defined, and it was time to explore new dimensions and find nuances to describe a normal, "sane" spectrum of emotions.

Megan Yvonne peaks again with a mesmerizing interpretation of Tú, el cielo y tú. One cannot mention this tune without referencing Di Sarli's canonical recording, and we've had many mentions of Di Sarli in this review - so many I feel compelled to emphasize that the conjunto is by no means a Di Sarli cover band. At most, it may reveal the preferences of the bandleader/arranger.

Here, even a reluctant traditionalist must be sold by the picture that the conjunto paints and Megan Yvonne is especially convincing as the song comes to its close. I say that as a deep admirer of Alberto Podestá, who made this song a staple at milongas: without imitation, which would be tricky to perform with a different chromosome setup, without flattery, without rejecting the heritage and going the opposite direction; simply by being in service of the music and doing one's best to interpret it with fidelity.

Here is something I did not expect: Mozo guapo, a milonga I adore so much I've had it as my ringtone for years now, one that is just about perfect in its original form by Tanturi/Castillo, redone without a singer and - exciting me with the same vigor!

It's sharp, fast but not crazy fast, and as driven as a milonga must be!

If I were to speculate, I'd say that the piano explains why I don't miss the singer here. The pianist emerges from the background at times and serves up passages that improvise and play with the theme almost in a jazzman-like fashion. You'll notice this on a repeat listening session - the piano does not overpower the rest of the band and does the job nonchalantly like it's no big deal.

Whereas Mozo guapo delivered a traditional milonga tune in a high-fidelity arrangement, Te vas milonga leads us in a new direction. I suppose it is an original tune like The Call of Berretin.

The tempo is at a very comfortable 88 BPMs (like Silueta porteña by Canaro) and it has the milonga beats; occasionally, though, you'll hear a few tricks that could throw a naive dancer off his tracks. I'd put this one in the "watch out" category; it's more complicated than it feels at first.

The other original song is The Call of Berretin. It's a throwback to the album Looking Ahead on the Shoulders of the Past, which - and this is extremely rare in the post-Golden era - contained all-new tango songs. While pleasant at first sight, it requires several listening sessions to fully appreciate. Such is the handicap of new tango tunes as the dancer/listener has no prior point of reference; on the flip side, since there's nothing to compare it to (and complain about), each new composition has the potential to set the band apart in a way that a cover version cannot.

At last, we come to two songs that cross genres and open the dancer's consciousness to very different traditions: Uskadara and Djelem djelem. As I am not familiar with the source material for either one, I'll reserve further comments until I've spoken with the band leader. Whatever the case might be, I think these two will make for compelling additions to a "nuevo DJ's" repertoire! For my typical audience, they may be a step too far 😉

In summary

"Tangos del Berretin" is a masterful achievement and is evenly compelling from the first track to the last.

It should please the traditionalist as it delivers well-known hits with great respect to the tradition, and yet in a new, fresh light.

Those who want "something new" and maybe even a journey into other genres, they'll find songs to enjoy here, too.

Most importantly, all eleven tracks are meant to be reinterpreted with your feet and, indeed, your whole body. Unlike many European bands, these guys didn't feel the need to prove that they can play for a discerning listening audience, too, even though they are classically trained. I love them for it!

PS Check out my earlier review of "The New York Tango Jam Session" for more music by Alex Krebs/Berretin!

During a lively night, it serves as an excellent piece to conclude a high-energy tanda.

Under the right dance floor conditions, it has the potential to create a supernova. Many bands have covered it, and it's a common find on cover albums. However, the bar is set high - if you're aiming for the King, you better not miss!

So, what could be done to amplify the original's energy without venturing into Absurdistan?

Here's an idea: how about transforming it into a milonga?

This track is a single by the Pablo Valle Sexteto, which may now be rebranded as "Tango Siempre," judging by the artwork. Now that you've listened to it, what do you think: could you dance to it as a milonga?

Obviously, you won't know until you try. To me, it seems a tad mechanical and indecisive: the melodic elements are all present, including some iconic phrasing, but the underlying milonga beat feels as if it's been attached post-hoc. It feels like a very fast Loca that might (though not guaranteed) encourage milonga patterns on the dance floor.

But hey, even if I'm not immediately convinced, it could still work! Perhaps surprising your dancers with it could provide a delightful amusement!`

I have enjoyed dancing to them playing live, for their arrangements and overall style is friendly to dancers of all levels.

This statement applies to their new album - Color Aires - released on September 30, 2022, although not without caveats, as we shall see.

The music in detail

Included are two valses, three milongas, four tangos and four tango nuevos.

Their choice of repertoire could be seen as conservative. Even ultra-conservative, since most of the tracks are of the "hit" variety, tracks you would hear on many milongas. The one nuevo track I had to look up in the database, A mis viejos, is the sole exception.

I'll cover the songs in a different order than how they appear on the album and see if we can make tandas here.

This is easiest with the milongas: we can dance to Silueta porteña, No hay tierra como la mía, and Reliquias porteñas.

All three, as well as the valses that will follow, have very traditional, milonguero arrangements. They won't surprise you but will surely delight you as you dance to them. The tempos are just right; the beats are regular and propel the couples on the dance floor.

Next, we have two valses: Desde el alma and Palomita blanca.

Too bad there isn't a third one! A quick look at the two earlier albums, the debut Tanchestron (2017) and their "pandemic nuevo album" (my term not theirs) Tangostoria (2020) reveals no valses either. We'll have to wait some more to complete the tanda, then.

These valses are spot-on just like the milongas. Solid, dependable, unsurprising. And that's what you want on the dance floor: neither milongas nor valses permit dangerous experiments that could ruin the flow, whereas in tango, you have a lot more room to stretch or compress your phrases yet keep the dancers in a good ronda.

Let's turn our attention to the tangos. We have four, but you couldn't make a sensible tanda out of them, which is fine, of course: there are other tangos on their earlier albums we can use for that.

Felicia is on the faster end of the spectrum. I've got 20 different versions of the tune in my library, and only the one by Solo Tango is faster. If you wanted a fast tanda, you could open with El huracán (Tanchestron), add Felicia from this album, Loca from Tanchestron, and then Este es el rey from Tangostoria to finish off your dancers.

Alternatively, start with El puntazo (coming up next), then Loca, then Felicia, and keep Este es el rey for the closer (where else?)

El puntazo is one of those songs you would play when you need your dancers to punish the floor truly hard, and it works great as an opener to such a tanda.

Master D'Arienzo set the bar really high with this one, in my view anyway. The same can be said about Loca or Este es el rey, and no matter how hard the bands try, they seldom reach it.

Did Bandonegro also fall short? I wouldn't say so; they did their damnedest to re-interpret the piece in a way that does justice to the original. Which is to say: it is a fine cover that pays homage to the original without trying to overtake it.

La cumparsita, appearing last in the album but not in this review, falls into the company of faster, more agile "cumparsitas". The interpretation is lovely, adorable even: it starts and progresses true to form. Gradually, it builds up more originality in the phrasing and expression. By the time it ended, I was utterly in love.

We are about to cross a bridge from the milonguero section of the album to the other one, that I (perhaps reflexively) call "nuevo."

It starts with a track that I did not expect to serve this role: Canaro en París.

The first 100 seconds of this suggest we'll get a "milonguero standard" interpretation that is on the more lively spectrum but nothing extraordinary.

Then, the band takes a detour for about 30 seconds, basically stopping the beat and letting the violin meditate for a while.

When the beat returns, one would think: fine, they had their moment, and now we can go back to dancing.

This is only true for a while. The band spends the last minute in a virtuoso deathmatch that transforms the song from a regular dancing piece to an over-dramatized concert performance. The ending is then completely over-the-top ridiculous. Like... I mean... what the fuck?

Or, am I too much of a square? As a closing tango in a late-night tanda for a hyper-energized crowd, this could very well elicit thunderous applause. Who am I to tell?

One way or another, Bandonegro's Canaro en París took a sharp departure from the canon, and stands at the border crossing between the milonguero land and the nuevo-stan.

A regular reader already knows what I am about to say.

Concert tango is a genre that I do not understand and will not entertain.

The album has four tracks of this sort: La bordona (do listen to Troilo's definitive version from 1958, that's the one you want), A mis viejos (also recorded by Troilo, in 1963), A los amigos (Pugliese recorded this in 1960, among others), and Piazzolla's Zum.

The band took an obvious pleasure recreating all four, and did a tremendous job at that. You can listen to them if that's your persuasion.

I would rather dance.

In summary

Full disclosure: I received a preview copy of the album prior to its release, and did not purchase it with my own money as I do customarily. I want to both thank the band for this and also encourage you to do what I would otherwise do, and buy this album!

The dancing tracks are fabulous, and who knows, maybe you do like to listen (or even dance!) to nuevo, in which case this becomes a 100% win for you.

Well done, guys!

Back when times were normal, you could frequently hear them and dance to their sets at various festivals in Europe.

Those times, I believe, will return one day. At least in terms of tango events, they will. Although, you'll notice I am not predicting when.

Their previous release, Para bailar, was a very satisfying re-edition of their earlier work for dancers. Quejas de bandoneón continues in the same direction, with a few exceptions we'll note.

Let's get into it.

The music in detail

The song that kicks off the album, Quejas de bandoneón, is one of three I would classify as "tango nuevo." It is concert music, full of disharmonies and rhythmical irregularities, making me worry about what was coming next.

Such a pity - the very same tune appeared on their previous album in a milonguero arrangement.

Thankfully, it was an exception to the rule. The following eight tracks in a row were made for dancers!

Comme il faut barges in with gusto. It's closer to Troilo's 1938 version than Di Sarli's by almost 10 BPMs (I'm talking tempo, not arrangement). Fast and convincing.

La clavada reminded of D'Arienzo's 1940 take. Here as then, it is very sharp, as if the musicians were dancing on embers.

Mandria without Echagüe? Or, excuse me, without Bustos (my favorite)? Yes, it can be done. People will argue about having or not having missed a singer. I did, but just a tiny bit. The instruments are doing what they can to cover for him.

Felicia continues with the high tempos and staccatos established in the previous three songs. So much so that it would be trivial to make a tanda out of them (your extended choice includes El choclo and El entreriano, which are coming up shortly). Truly lovable fast instrumental. Also, it's fast but not as crazy as the version on Para bailar.

Invierno, made famous by Canaro and Maida, also comes without a singer here. The arrangement is such that you might not care - the violins are doing a tremendous job. Sweet and kitschy, as it must be, relaxed but not too slow.

El choclo brings the BPMs back up. I really enjoy the consistency of the faster songs on this album. The phrasing is so cohesive as to make the tanda-making a joy.

El entrerriano is the last of the fast tangos. It's about as fast as D'Arienzo's or Biagi's versions without trying to imitate either. My favorite is the super-fast edition by Orquesta Silbando. This one competes for the 2nd spot - in my imaginary tournament anyway.

The milongas Papas calientes and El torito are both very agile but do not speed up unreasonably. Whether you can afford to play them for your dancers depends on how many milonga-lovers you'll have on the dance floor. Of the two, El torito would be my first preference as it is very playful and oozing good mood.

I will rather avoid commenting on the two "nuevo" tracks that follow, El marne and Ojos negros, other than to express regret about the missed opportunity. It shows that no matter how hard they try, musicians sometimes get fed up with not being the center of attention (my interpretation). But, who wants to listen to tango sitting down?

I anticipated that Por una cabeza would also stray into the concert music territory, but it didn't! It revives Carlos Gardel's classic in a fresh and danceable way. I would be quite happy to end a romantic tanda with it!

The album concludes with La cumparsita. Too obvious, say you? Not so fast! This version is a vals. It's guaranteed to put smiles on dancers' faces, even as it means the event is coming to an end (if that's what the local manners dictate).

This is not the first time somebody has done it - The Tango Group (a now-defunct American band) did it years ago. I think that a repeated joke works quite well here, however.

In summary

All in all, this is a solid album with a lot of new material for milongas. A clever DJ might sneak in a tanda or two, even for a very conservative audience. The band has been super popular with dancers, and for good reasons.

When it strays from its mission, it still plays great music with incredible professionalism and dedication. It proves that it plays the premier league. Hopefully, they will have convinced themselves of it by now, and won't feel the need to stress the argument too often.

As we are unlikely to dance to their music live, neither this season nor next, I recommend that you grab the album and have a listen! Or better yet, tell your favorite DJ to do the same and play the music at a milonga. It's worth it.

Here is the final playlist.

It's not a "TOP 22" list in the sense that I think these tracks are the best ever. That would be silly.

Rather, it is a collection of tandas that represent the various moods and colors of tango as I understand and appreciate it.

That's it. Enjoy!

PS I recommend listening to what other DJs invited to this project put together. For example, Theresa Faus dived into a very specific niche occupied by Roberto Firpo and Julio de Caro.

Until yesterday.

I was invited to play on a weekly Monday milonga in Prague - RestArt - and I enjoyed every second of it.

Here is the FULL playlist.

The music

The music you will hear from the YouTube widget comes from various sources, and the quality is uneven, although mostly acceptable. It's not what I actually played in terms of the transfers.

I pay for my music and source most of my traditional repertoire from TangoTunes. The Laurenz tracks are from Tango Time Travel. The 1950s music is from CDs, and the contemporary music I play usually comes from Bandcamp.

This does not make me a better DJ or anything, but I like the feeling of having paid for the music. We must support our creators, or else there won't be anyone creating in the future.

The list of tandas

• Soy muchacho de arrabal * Ricardo Tanturi, Enrique Campos (1946)
• Giuseppe el zapatero * Ricardo Tanturi, Enrique Campos (1945)
• Cuatro recuerdos * Ricardo Tanturi, Enrique Campos (1945)
• De 6 a 7 | De seis a siete * Ricardo Tanturi, Enrique Campos (1945)

** CORTINA **

• El pollito * Juan D'Arienzo (1938)
• De mi flor * Juan D'Arienzo (1938)
• No me lo digas * Juan D'Arienzo (1939)
• Don Pacífico * Juan D'Arienzo (1939)

** CORTINA **

• La esquina * Lucio Demare (1938)
• Milonga de mis amores * Pedro Láurenz (1944)
• Todos te quieren * Ángel D'Agostino (1944)

** CORTINA **

• Necesito olvidar * Carlos Di Sarli, Roberto Rufino (1942)
• Adiós, te vas…! * Carlos Di Sarli, Roberto Rufino (1943)
• Mañana zarpa un barco * Carlos Di Sarli, Roberto Rufino (1942)
• Griseta | Grisetta | Grisette * Carlos Di Sarli, Roberto Rufino (1941)

** CORTINA **

• Una vez * Osvaldo Pugliese, Alberto Morán (1946)
• Hoy al recordarla * Osvaldo Pugliese, Alberto Morán (1945)
• Demasiado tarde * Osvaldo Pugliese, Alberto Morán (1946)
• Sin palabras * Osvaldo Pugliese, Alberto Morán (1947)

** CORTINA **

• No te olvides de mi, corazón * Miguel Caló, Raúl Iriarte (1945)
• Luna de plata * Miguel Caló, Raúl Iriarte (1943)
• El mismo dolor * Miguel Caló, Raúl Iriarte (1945)

** CORTINA **

• A mí dejáme en mi barrio * Pedro Láurenz, Juan Carlos Casas (1942)
• Como dos extraños * Pedro Láurenz, Juan Carlos Casas (1940)
• Taconeando * Pedro Láurenz, Juan Carlos Casas (1942)
• No me extraña * Pedro Láurenz, Juan Carlos Casas (1940)

** CORTINA **

• Unión cívica * Rodolfo Biagi (1938)
• La marca de fuego * Rodolfo Biagi (1940)
• Bélgica * Rodolfo Biagi (1942)
• La huella * Rodolfo Biagi (1946)

** CORTINA **

• No hay tierra como la mía * Francisco Lomuto, Fernando Díaz (1939)
• Milongón * Francisco Lomuto, Jorge Omar (1939)
• Parque Patricios * Francisco Lomuto / Fernando Díaz (1941)

** CORTINA **

• Cascabelito * Armando Lacava / Ángel Vargas (1951)
• El adiós * Armando Lacava, Ángel Vargas (1954)
• Tanto * Eduardo Del Piano / Ángel Vargas (1949)
• Cualquier cosa * Armando Lacava, Ángel Vargas (1952)

** CORTINA **

• Café para dos * Alfredo De Angelis / Oscar Larroca (1956)
• En tus brazos * Alfredo De Angelis / Oscar Larroca (1954)
• Volvamos a empezar * Alfredo De Angelis / Oscar Larroca (1953)
• Cómo nos cambia la vida * Alfredo De Angelis / Oscar Larroca (1953)

** CORTINA **

• Quemá esas cartas * Armando Cupo / Alberto Morán (1955)
• La noche que me esperes * Osvaldo Pugliese, Alberto Morán (1952)
• Manos adoradas * Osvaldo Pugliese, Alberto Morán (1952)

** CORTINA **

• No te apures, Carablanca * Sexteto Cristal, Guillermo Rozenthuler (2019)
• Condena | S.O.S. * Sexteto Cristal, Guillermo Rozenthuler (2018)
• Dos fracasos * Sexteto Cristal, Guillermo Rozenthuler (2019)
• Ríe, payaso * Sexteto Cristal, Guillermo Rozenthuler (2019)

** CORTINA **

• Gricel * Aníbal Troilo, Francisco Fiorentino (1942)
• Malena * Aníbal Troilo, Francisco Fiorentino (1942)
• La cumparsita * Aníbal Troilo (1943)

The commentary

I pre-planned most of the tandas, which I didn't use to do. Given the long break, I did not feel comfortable mixing everything on the spot.

This gave me more freedom to watch my dancers and enjoy the vibes.

You will notice that I inverted the format to TTMTTV. Yup, I like milongas, and it's no secret.

The Laurenz tanda looks weird because I had a brain hiccup and included Como dos extraños twice 🤣. I went to a bar after starting the tanda to order some wine, and before I paid, what did I hear? Como dos extraños! But that was supposed to be the last in the tanda, wasn't it? Fuck!

So I quickly returned to my table, deleted the duplicate Como dos extraños from the 4th spot, and put No me extraña there instead. Not ideal, but I didn't see any confused faces when the cortina ended the tanda.

This was a fun event, and the music seemed to resonate with the dancers. I could hardly wish for a more welcoming reception after not having DJed for so long. Thanks, everyone!

Chance are good you have never danced to their music - if you live outside of the Netherlands.

Their location has nothing to do with it, I think. There are plenty of European bands that most prolific milongueros know.

There are two reasons these guys operate in a special niche.

One, it's a trio: a bandoneon, guitar, and double bass. I have danced to duos (e.g., guitar+singer), and one can imagine dancing just to a single musician doing his best, e.g., a pianist (I have actually danced to that). Still, not a typical proposition in a milonga setting.

Two, they make original tangos. Yes, you heard that right: they produce new music for dancing, forgoing covers.

That a niche proposition since it's like climbing a mountain without any tools for support. Milongueros are a conservative bunch, even those who do "nuevo". They like to hear the same beats again and again, for it's comforting to know what your next step should be.

In my world, making new tango music for dancing deserves praise the most. Then again, my world is rather specific and niche, too.

With that said, let's see what they cooked for us in their latest album, More Tango.

The music in detail

This is more of an EP, not a full album, as it contains just six songs: four tangos, a vals and a milonga.

Flor de Tango is swift, often modulating, and very driven. The bandoneón is more often in charge than the guitar but both instruments contribute in carrying the melody forward. When one is leading, the other supplies the rhythmical support as does the double bass.

By the way, and this has just occurred to me, why the "double" in double bass? Is there a single bass out there, and if so, how does it look and sound?

Uh, never mind.

Dos Fasos is a new recording that the trio recorded earlier. Slower at about 55 BPM, it still leads the couple with predictable, steady beats. I found the melody catchy and interesting enough to follow.

Here's the thing, though, and that's true for any new music: you have to listen to it a few times for it to develop an emotional response in you.

This has to have been true for you early in your tango career when all tango music was new to you.

You, just as me, have most likely been occupied by other considerations, such as taking that step forward with your partner, to pay much attention to the music, that's for sure.

Still, I wonder if you can re-create that feeling the music has created inside of you the first time you heard it? It may very well be that it took many repeat occasions before you fell in love with any particular track?

Speculating I am, of course. Let me know what your experience has been!

Moving on, we have the vals El Nenúfar. While the tempo is at the ideal mark (around 67 BPM), I am afraid this is where I would have the most trouble if I were to find a spot for it in my set.

Much of it has to do with the instrumentation: 3 instruments can do all they can, and it still won't fill the room.

In this case, the arrangement is dreamy and hesitant, and there is not enough drive, which the musicians can achieve with sharp, distinct accents. It is regular but not energetic enough as the vals genre demands.

I quite enjoyed listening to it! Would I love to dance to it? Yes, and it would have to be a special occasion. As a vals it's not universally applicable, one would have to wait for the perfect moment.

Los Sábados is close in spirit to the opening track, Flor de Tango, and would be a great companion to it in fast tanda.

In my ears, it's even catchier, and so maybe, maybe it would lead the tanda. In this instance, I even forgot how small the ensemble is.

Would it be even more usable when played by a larger band? I'd imagine. Still, I could find a slot for a more chamber-music tanda with this track in it.

I think that La Rosa de Ana can be classified as "nuevo", and that's because it is very, very slow, flowing at around 40 BPM. That works great at a relaxed nuevo milonga. For a more traditional concept, not so much.

Myself, I rarely play chill-out music for dancing as I personally find it difficult to dance unless we are past the Cumparsita and I want to hug for a few more minutes before going home.

Those who've been reading this blog for some time know that I am particular about my milongas. How, then, does Al Cuartito fare in my view?

Pretty well, actually. The theme is catchy and the tempo is at the higher end, about 112 BPM. And here again, the only issue is the size of the band. The same song performed by a bigger orchestra would bring this to the next level!

In closing

There was an orquesta - Mala Pinta - that was a bigger version of the trio and recorded a single album, Sencillo, in 2015. Unfortunately, it was the only album, and the web domain of the band is now occupied by an unrelated enterprise.

So here we go, with the trio again, with inspiring new music that has created its own and rather small niche.

If it appears that I am unnecessarily critical, that's because I want new tango music for dancing to flourish - on the dance floor.

That comes with many pre-requisites, and one of them is the aggregate sound volume, or soundscape, rather, that the band can produce. Smaller bands have to overcome extra challenges to make it to live sets.

It's with these lenses that I have looked upon this album.

On its own, it's a small miracle. There are not that many people alive today who compose and perform original tango music. And for that, I am grateful.

This time rather than do covers, they deliver a fresh batch of tangos penned by the band-leader Gaspar Pocai.

The genre is what I like to call "pub tango." Compared to the more high-brow, salon version of tango, the music lacks pretense and drops the drama in favor of slightly inebriated fun.

They released it back in February, which feels like eons ago. It sat in my Inbox in a half-processed state due to no fault of its own. The war next door is what happened, and tango suddenly felt like an inappropriate luxury at the time.

I would be remiss if I failed to mention that other life priorities have also intervened. It's the end of May now, and my list of excuses has thinned, and so here comes my long-delayed look at the album.

There's a big upside to this, too. This is the first time Roulotte has published on Spotify, and I can include the tracks for you to listen along.

The music in detail

Even as the album landing page claims the music is suitable for dancing, I found this to be true for some tracks and not others.

Let's start with the dancing pieces.

The eponymous Tango Gitano sets the stage for what's to follow. Its walking beat carries you forward comfortably, and the band creates an accented, well-defined backdrop to the singer who drives most of the action. The melody oscillates between D major and minor and has a certain exotic feel.

Ella va presents itself as an uncomplicated walking piece with a pleasant melody. The tempo dips at times, but no excessive rubatos are to be found.

Y ahora que has more nostalgic vibes. The tempo is similar as are the rhythmic textures - the sharp staccatos make it easy to follow along. I like that there are no distinct rubatos in this song, which helps when deciding what goes into a tanda.

Lunfa made its first appearance in Reír. Just as there, it has multiple rubato passages, the first one shortly after the 1st minute, the other ones towards the end. The lyrical content is compelling enough to make up for it, in my view anyway, but it makes the decision-making in terms of "where in the tanda/set do I put this?" harder. 🙄

Si te da lo mismo also appeared in Reír and comes back rejuvenated, packing even more energy. The beat is faster and the mood is happy, even boisterous. There are some syncopes and other rhythmical tricks around, but nothing that should throw the leader off his tracks.

Milonga guacha is lovely, with the beat clocking comfortable 88 beats per minute and a very regular character. The signature milonga beat pattern is present at all times and neither the singer nor the instruments obscure it. The melody is catchy and inviting. What's not to like?

Gusano is one of two valses on this album, and I would argue it's the better one, at least for dancing. The tempo is at the lower end of comfortable vals BPMs, hovering just above 60. Even as it is a very lyrical tune, the underlying beat is always present and clocking away with regularity that is much needed here. I found the motive very catchy and lovable.

We now move on to the more "nuevo" side of this album.

The vals Otoño starts off on a "mysterious" note, which would leave dancers wondering what's coming up. It then develops the recognizable 3/4 rhythm but the beat is less pronounced and the overall sound is softer than what I'd like in a good vals - the "good" translating to something like "propelling me to make regular circular movements on the dance floor". Still, you totally can dance to this, and I wouldn't mind playing it at a more progressive milonga.

Noche is a slow melodic piece that has some beat and I suppose is still borderline danceable. Something about it leaves me unwilling to stand up and look for a partner, however. I suspect it's the melodic material, which I find somewhat repetitive.

Reír starts off very promising, with sharp accents and a compelling motive. What makes it questionable for dancefloor use are too many rubatos that come up later, compromising its dancing drive. There are more numerous than in Lunfa, and in my ears, the line is crossed here. I am open to changing my mind later, and for now file this under nuevo stuff.

De tero y chimango wears this as a badge of honor, no doubt, as the tempo can be interpreted as either 45 or 90 BPM, and does not suggest any tango or milonga steps to me. A very pleasant tune for listening it is, for sure.

I suppose that Del otro lado del mar could become very popular in the nuevo circles. The tempo is bearable at 56 BPM, and even though the beat pattern is not from the tango genre, I could imagine myself dancing tango steps to it. I found the melody catchy enough to get off my chair. A potential wrinkle for a DJ is its length: at nearly 6 minutes, it would take the same space as two tango songs of a more typical length.

The album closes with a remake of La Chanson de Prévert by Serge Gainsbourg. It is not included on the Spotify album, so you'll have to take my word for it.

It is a beautiful song and you probably could dance some nuevo tango steps to it. As is the case with much of the nuevo music, either you dance to every other beat, taking really slow steps, or do the double tempo that does not really fit the musical phrasing. I would rather play something that flows at the normal walking speeds.

In closing

Together with the earlier album Reír, I now have enough material to start making tandas with this new, smaller and more folksy version of Roulotte.

I love it when musicians do more than covers and come with original material, and even more so when it's danceable. I found enough material for dancing here to be very happy with my purchase.

And even some of the more nuevo pieces that I would have to plan more carefully have potential. And those I find more problematic are still great for simply listening along.

Now, if only the band has put this and all of their previous work on Bandcamp, that would be something! As a DJ you have to buy the physical CDs if you want to play Roulotte for dancers, which is a shame - the next generation of DJs won't even though what a CD is. 🤣

Alas de Tango is a milonga orchestra. Our musicians also enjoy dance and they want every night at the milonga to be a party. That’s why we make arrangements for the classics we love and pick out some new

They have so far released four singles and, most recently, a tanda mini-album. Let's have a listen!

The music in detail

Blues del sur is a bilingual vals featuring two singers, Cucuza Castiello singing in Spanish and Brian Chambouleyron singing in French. Not sure if it's an original tune or a cover of a pop-song but the arrangement is unmistakably a tango vals. It could run a little faster to be even more comfortable to dance but its good mood will likely win you over as it did me.

In Je te dirai, Brian Chambouleyron makes a solo appearance with the orquesta and sings in French again. While looking for the possible origins of this tune, I found this recording by Gardel. Given that the singer did record an album in tribute to Gardel, this might not be a coincidence but I'll admit to having trouble finding a common theme between the two. Nevertheless, it is again a very pleasant tango vals flowing at the regular walking tempo.

My favorite single is the milonga Ella se fue, sung by Dolores Solá and Noelia Moncada. Attributed to the living Argentinian composer Alfredo "Tape" Rubin, it's an embodiment of an ideal milonga: swift but not terrifyingly fast, with a stable underlying beat, and smile-inducing.

The instrumental Truco Gallo sounds like a new composition. To me it sounds somewhat intellectual, or maybe the melody just didn't resonate with me. However, it certainly is a solid walking piece with a regular, sharp beat.

Finally, the "tanda album" Primera tanda, which came out just a week or two ago. It contains a shorter version of Truco Gallo and three classics: Café Dominguez, 9 de julio, and Quejas de bandoneón.

Judged on their own merit, the three covers are fine. The problem is the competition: these songs have not one but several canonical representations from the Golden age to the present, and so if you need a tanda with Café Dominguez, for example, you have a plethora of choice. I am afraid that Alas de Tango are too timid, too respectful in their interpretation - nothing stands out in terms of the arrangement, the energy, nor the dancing drive.

Then again, context is everything: if the band played this tanda live, as they surely do in Argentina, I am convinced the dancers would be pleased. And that's not to be taken for granted!

Overall, I am pleased to have learned about Alas de Tango and am looking forward to their future releases. We need bands that put dancers first, and these guys surely do.

One is the frequency and volume of their output. Every couple of months, there is a new release - a single, a short album, or at least a video on YouTube. And that was true even when COVID locked the scene down for months at a time.

Another is consistency. There is no experimentation, no navel gazing: all their tracks are made for the dance floor.

This consistency also applies to their arrangements. Those who are not fans might say that all their covers sound the same. And they are right, in a way, but remember: their music is not meant to be consumed by your ears alone. It's supposed to shine a bright light on the dance floor so that people can be happy for twelve minutes or so.

Their latest contribution to the Global Tango Happiness Index (GTHI) is called Valses. Them having no ironic bone in their bodies, you will get exactly what you would expect. Six of them, to be exact.

The music in detail

Pequeña was recorded by Maderna and De Angelis, both in 1949, and it's probably the latter that you have met at a milonga. The version by Romantica boosts the optimism and tempo and oozes happines all the way through.

The one and only definitive version of Paisaje was made by Pedro Laurenz with Alberto Podestá in 1943. It surely needs no introduction. As such, it gives stiff resistance to its re-interpretation.

Romantica took a smart way out and casted Ximena Gimenez to sing in its cover. That way, a comparison to Podestá is less likely to come up, and the cover stands on its own legs.

There are several versions of Tu olvido available in the classical repertoire, e.g. Tanturi's. Romantica made theirs a duet, their singers Roberto Minondi and Ximena Gimenez taking turns in driving the narrative. I think it worked out great!

Sueña is a captivating, dreamy vals only ever recorded by Miguel Caló with Alberto Podestá back in 1954. It's a nightmare to compile a tanda around it since Podestá recorded no other valses in that period neither with Caló not anyone else.

Romantica's version attenuated the dreamy qualities of the song, favoring a more direct, celebratory approach. You can still dream along but it will be a very vivid, action-packed affair!

The popularity of Bajo un cielo de estrellas is hard to overstate, and Romantica Milonguera adds their contribution to the growing list of its contemporary covers. The band exploits every phrase to its maximum potential and Roberto Minondi is forceful, operatic but does not dominate. Only a curmudgeon would not approve.

The closing track is Pobre flor, best known from the 1946 version by De Angelis and his singers Dante and Martel. It is a duet here, too, and I was blown away how tighly were Minondi and Gimenez locked together when singing the unisono passages; their precision is incredible! This is not a small feat and they made it look easy.

In closing

I meant to write this review as soon as the album came out mid-February, and then history intervened. Three weeks into the war in Ukraine, I still find it hard to dance, hard to enjoy tango as it's meant to be enjoyed.

Of course, this has nothing to do with this album. I write this to explain the state of mind of this reviewer.

Despite my ongoing reluctance, I forced myself to write this, to listen to the music, to remember what it's like to dance with not a single worry clouding your mind.

Which is what this album can give you. If and when you are open to the experience.

In Tango Stories - Musical Secrets, Michael Lavocah wrote that in Arrabal, recorded in 1937, Laurenz ushered in the Golden Age era. Quoting from memory but that's the gist of it.

In case you need a reminder, here it is:

It sounds years ahead of its time. Was Laurenz somehow influenced by young Pugliese, who played the piano in his first own orchestra, or was it vice versa? Either way, it's emblematic of Laurenz's approach, and it is along these lines that this week's tanda is composed, although Arrabal is not in it.

So, what is inside?

Structure

1) Mala junta (1947, D major/minor)
2) Orgullo criollo (1941, F major / B-flat minor)
3) Poca suerte (1941, D major modulating into G major)
4) Amurado | Abandonado (1947, C major/minor)

(all tracks approx. 63 BPM)

I am starting the tanda with Mala junta as it is catchy, playful, and instantly recognizable.

Orgullo criollo follows up with an upbeat motive, never too serious about itself even as it develops some lyrical material in the alternating theme.

In case the leader was less than ideally prepared for this tanda of surprises, Poca suerte should give him time to collect himself. It provides a brief rhythmical respite with its ultra-regular beat. I haven't heard this track until I bought Laurenz's complete discography at Tango Time Travel. Interestingly, Laurenz is the only one who's ever recorded it.

We finish with Amurado | Abandonado. Laurenz gave this one four tries: once in 1940 with Juan Carlos Casas, then in 1947, 1952, and 1968 as instrumentals. I love all of them, and my current favorite is the 1952 version, which wouldn't be a good fit here. Or would it?

It provides the tanda with a deserved lyrical apex, for which the first two tracks provided the general direction. I wouldn't use this song in any other position, I think; it is quite complex and taxing on the leader, designed to get the best out of you as you express it with your feet - and then you'll need a break, that's for sure.

Usage

I would use this as a drop-in replacement for a Pugliese instrumental tanda. Indeed, that's what I did last Wednesday when I played it about 40 minutes before the Cumparsita. It's full of musical tricks and surprises, so it can mess with your head if you are unprepared. It's on par with anything Pugliese recorded in this period and deserves to be played and danced.

photo credit to Adrian Gonzales

I have said this before, and I will say it again: the technical brilliance of Solo Tango is breath-taking. And what makes it even more impressive is that it does not turn them snobbish and there is no navel-gazing: even though they could very well play in the Carnegie Hall, they seem determined to just play for dancers.

To prove my point, I have attempted to organize the contents of this album into tandas, and will present the music as if I was trying to play it live for my dancers.

It does not work 100%, and in the real life I would make more cohesive choices but how often can you do this exercise with a single album?

Since there are 22 tracks on this album, I have limited my comments to the absolute minimum. Which is just as fine: music cannot really be described in words anyway, it has to be heard - and at best, danced.

The music in detail

Let's fire it off with a D'Arienzo tanda.

I have two options to get it started - do I use Felicia or El puntazo?

Option 1 - Felicia

The fastest Felicia in my library, running ahead at 75 BPM. Surprisingly, it feels like that's the tempo that makes this song prosper.

Option 2 - El puntazo

A dark, iconic track - sounds a little thinner here than I'd find ideal but I think it's got the important elements fused together just right.

The other three:

Dime mi amor - you won't hear an instrumental version of this very often, in fact this is the first one I've heard and you know what? I did not miss the singer at all. Remarkable. And fast!

Loca - the crazy one, one of those songs that every band covers, sooner or later - it comes out just fine here, has a fantastic drive and won't disappoint, unless you are a curmudgeon. In that I case I can't help you. Sorry.

What do we got for the closer? Dare I say - Este es el Rey? Yes, dare I shall! This tune is easy to overblow and make un-danceable. I think that Solo Tango came very close to the line but did not cross it. It works, you just need to make your steps super minimal and, as always, think about the ronda. Always the ronda!

Having spent a lot of calories on this tanda, let's move on to a calmer one featuring covers of Canaro and Fresedo.

I have to start this one with Poema. It has a long intro featuring a violin solo, and so it really has to be the opener. The solo gives folks some more time to glance around and make some cabeceos, which is a nice bonus.

What you want to hear after this is Invierno. Certainly. And I love the tempo of this version - it sounds like a much better fit and it just naturally leads you to taking a relaxed walk on the dance floor.

Breaking away from Canaro and venturing into the Fresedo territory, we have two more tracks to complete the tanda.

Sueño azul is comfortable and very, very sweet. Too sweet? You be the judge!

Vida mía concludes the tanda. It is overplayed, that's for sure. This one is sugary and super sweet, and if that's your thing, you won't regret dancing to it. To me, this is way too far into the Fresedo style, to which I've developed a strong allergy, but to each his own. It works.

Time for a vals tanda, isn't it? As it happens, there's a milonguera that has a birthday today, and so we'll play a birthday vals - Flor de lino. After that there's a lot of cheers and embraces and maybe, just maybe the dancers won't mind that no more valses are forthcoming as this is the only one on the album.

There is a very long violin intro here as well, after which the song flows in a soft, very pleasant, smile-inducing manner.

The next comes a bastard tanda. No offense to the music intended; here I am grouping tracks that didn't fit anywhere else. Individually, though, they shine. Admittedly, the first three will challenge the leader.

The opener is Mala junta and it is a delight, an absolute gem and my personal favorite of the album. It's full of little surprises and very playful and clever without any pretense.

Los mareados is the least danceable, perhaps the only song for which I would have the most trouble finding a spot in my sets. It's full of modulations, starting in F minor and going through several key changes until it finds a resting point in B minor. Some of these felt a little forced. More importantly to the dancer, there are omnipresent rubatos and the flow is anything but regular. I would say it's a beautiful concert tango, and move on.

Patético drags us back to the dance floor as it is a believable Pugliese cover, played with confidence. It has the signature Pugliese phrasing yet does not go overboard with it.

To finish you off, I conclude the tanda with Quejas de bandoneón. I wonder what was the point of origin for this arrangement? It flows 1 BPM below the normal walking tempo, first exposing the dramatic theme in a somewhat understated way, then building a clear narrative and gradually increasing the intensity. I loved the decisive resolution.

The next tanda is mixed again, this time combining several traditions but nevertheless unmistakably Solo Tango. The tempos are high, preparing us for the milongas to follow.

The interpretation of El huracán sounds like something D'Arienzo would have recorded in the 1970s: super fast, racing at 70 BPM. Ultrasharp staccatos and plenty of fun.

The next two are straight Troilo. Fast, instantly recognizable, guaranteed to speed up the ronda.

Toda mi vida works just fine without a singer.

How about Milongueando en el '40? Yes, please. If I were to be nit-picky, I would love this arrangement to be more elaborate; there are too many unison passages here. Will the dancers mind? I don't think so.

Troilo did not record Canaro en París but many others did, including Canaro himself as well as D'Arienzo - three times. The tempos here are borderline crazy at 73 BPM but the phrasing should help the leader keep it short and sweet. I would have fun with this one.

Time for some milongas, finally! And the faster the better, if you ask me. In this regard, Solo Tango delivers.

I would play No hay tierra como la mía as the opener. The tempo is 110 BPM, which should not scare the leaders, hopefully.

The beats go up to 119 BPM in Milonga sentimental. Whoever is on the dance floor, that's it, we ain't getting more couples involved. Although I could be wrong, it's fast and a lot of fun!

If you thought I wouldn't go any faster in this tanda, you would be wrong. I give you Mano brava, a true milonga delight. At 124 BPM it's not the fastest milonga in my collection, however - that honor goes to La puñalada by Los Reyes del Tango who managed to clock the record-breaking 134 BPM. Still, it's way faster than I would be comfortable risking on a normal milonga. Here, though, I can do whatever I want.

It's time to send people home with La cumparsita. It's very rare that I don't play the Cumparsita at the end of my sets. I know some DJs hate it and do not play it, and to them I say: fuck you! The Cumparsita is a must in my world and as a dancer, I would be supremely pissed if I were sent home without it.

Solo Tango plays it very swift, maybe too swift if it were supposed to be the last song of the evening. I prefer Cumparsitas that calm me down such that I accept that the milonga is over. That said, it is convincing and technically superb, as always.

In summary

If you've come this far, there's a good chance you are a Solo Tango fan as am I.

These guys are incredible, and there no difference between a studio track they record and a live performance they give on stage. None. They should go over to Argentina and teach there.

All in all, this album gives me plenty of new ammo for my sets, and totally made my day.

And what's even more exciting, I heard rumors - from an insider - that a new album might, just might be on the horizon! Would that make this blog a Solo Tango fanclub? It's a distinct possibility.

Well yes, you know me, in my world it's always milonga time and my preferred format would be MMTMMV but I have to live in the real world, that seems unavoidable. And so even this series follows the standard format.

This whole weekend would have been one grand milonga time for me: I was supposed to be dancing in Poland on a festival La Boheme. God was not willing, however, and gifted me COVID. Before you ask, I am fine; I had my two shots last year like good citizen should. Dance, I cannot, and so here's my compensation, such as it is.

I reviewed both albums by Cuarteto Soltango, and what I like about them a lot is how well they play technically while still playing for dancers. They, too, are sometimes seduced by the concert halls but I believe in them.

Incredibly, the two albums feature six milongas. They did not go as far as to make two tandas, each in the style of a single orchestra, but one can mix and match with some deliberation and thanks to the unique sound of the band, it will still make a very good sense indeed.

Structure

1) Estampa de varón (A major, 111 BPM)
2) Morena del 900 (D minor/major, 111 BPM)
3) El chapucero (A major, 116 BPM)

The first and last are in the style of Juan D'Arienzo, Morena del 900 is reportedly in the style of Julio De Caro. I don't know if you can tell but I can't; thankfully, it does not feature any idiosyncracies that would render it incompatible with the D'Arienzo of the opener and closer.

The last one is a little faster but not too much. Dancers probably won't even notice.

Usage

Yes, these milongas are pretty fast. You'll have to take the taste and technical competence of your audience into consideration.

Myself, I have recently started to play my milongas a little faster than before, because giving too much consideration and playing the slower milongas out of fear doesn't seem to convince the non-milonga people either. Better to take out the big guns and at least please the real fans.

--
Photo by takahiro taguchi on Unsplash

Is it worth listening to, and dancing it? You bet!

The music in detail

Merceditas, oh, Merceditas - Solo Tango's arrangement is so compelling you won't even realize it's an instrumental; the thought of missing the singer did not even enter my mind. They play it here a little slower than on the album Juntos and if I had to pick, I'd choose the album version but not by a large margin. Lovely.

The bandoneón intro in Poema has underwent some evolutionary changes since the song's appearance on Juntos while the rest of the arrangement seems to me to be identical. I perceived the overall to be marginally more plesurable here than on the album but again, not by much. Both are great.

In Desde el alma, the band takes a brief departure from their signature danceability: while the track hides nothing from the iconic tune, the arrangement goes on a side quest at around 1.30", enjoying prolonged rubatos. As a last song in a tanda, it might still work, I suppose; the music is very dreamy and seductive, and so perhaps the reluctant leader will be brought into the game... very possible!

On the other hand, Amor y vals is a straightforward dancing pleasure. I am impressed how the pianist managed to perform his Biagi-like arpeggios without slowing down the beat at all... while the band plays a few BPMs faster than Mr Biagi himself. Kudos!

The wonderful Buscándote sounds almost exactly like the album version from Juntos, and only the brief applause gives away that it's a live recording. Hard to pick favorites here.

Integracion is a compelling but rather difficult to follow narrative, and as a DJ I think I'll pass but that does not take anything away from the music itself.

If I were a dictator-for-life, would I ban concert tango? I don't know. Probably. Good thing I am not a dictator-for-life!

Question for my audience, or for the band rather: was this composed by Fabio Hager, or was he performing with the band on this piece? The booklet does not say. [UPDATE: yes, composed by Fabio Hager as confirmed by the band - THANKS!]

You could argue that A Evaristo Carriego is also better enjoyed as concert music but here I am open to both interpretations. You'll have likely danced to one of the many versions of this tune that are available, starting with Pugliese's. I think for a late night milonga this might find it's place in a set.

The sole milonga on the album is Papas calientes, and it is a treat! While fast, it's also quite short - under 2 minutes. As a dancer, I would surely be disappointed it's over so fast but grateful that I had the chance to dance to it just the same.

There's a fun break at around 1.11" that's totally unexpected, and is sure to provoke cheers in the ronda. Lovely!

The closing song, Mi dolor, is just as sharp and driven as the album version. Somehow it feels more intense, more involved, which might be just due to a different recording setup. It's a burning ball of dancing energy, guaranteed to smite the dancing audience with joy.

Summary

Solo Tango Orquesta is a staple in my playlists, and I am thankful for everything they release. Might they be interested in adding their older albums (Historias de Tango 1-3) on Bandcamp, too, I wonder? They cannot be purchased anywhere other than used, I think, and that's too bad.

Given how precise the band is technically, I would not mind mixing tracks from this album with their studio music. You will hardly notice. I liked some tracks better live, and I prefer others from the prior albums, but the difference is hardly noticeable. I've enjoyed all of them just the same.

Raúl Iriarte is arguably the less-known cantor of Miguel Caló's 1940s orchestra, behind Raúl Berón but ahead of Roberto Arrieta if you don't mind me constructing this arbitrary pyramid of fame. Just from my dancing experience, such as it is, I tend to hear Berón a lot often than Iriarte.

This is somewhat unfair, since Caló's discography with Iriarte dwarfs that of his rivals by a factor of 2 or more. And there's a lot more than Trenzas and Verdemar to it: in fact, it's hard to dismiss any one record as a filler or worse.

And yet, when I looked into my DJ sets, I found a glaring discrepancy. Some tracks tend to appear disproportionately more frequently than the others: I played Gime el viento nineteen times between 2016-2019, whereas I've only played Bohardilla twice between 2014-2015 and not a single time after that.

And so this tanda of the week is a product of my recent re-acquaintance with Raúl Iriarte as I have recently purchased the 2nd part of the superb Tango Tunes transfers. You're going to want to purchase these, too, if you want to experience the music in the highest quality available today; this YouTube playlist is just a teaser.

Structure

1) Garras, C minor
2) Bohardilla, G minor modulating into D minor
3) Orquestas de mi ciudad, B minor/major
4) Tabaco, G minor

(all songs from 1944 with the tempo at ~ 62 BPM)

I picked only songs that I played three times or less in the nine years I've been DJing, and yet I've ended up with what might, maybe with the exception of Orquestas de mi ciudad, be considered "hits". And if they aren't hits today, they used to be so, and will be again. Romantic Golden Age tango reached its sweet spot of lyrical expressiveness and danceability here (notice the qualifier "Golden Age", however).

With this tanda I used the pattern lyrical-lyrical-mixed-lyrical, meaning only the penultimate song alternates lyrical and upbeat themes and the rest is all in minor keys. That tends to go well if it's time to tug on people's hearts. As I've said previously, I almost never play all four songs in the same key, and definitely not four songs in minor. The milonga should not evoke a funeral.

Usage

Considering a typical 3-hour weekly milonga, I would play Caló sometime in the 2nd hour. In terms of its lyrical powers and dancing complexity, I like to be somewhat warmed up to it, and at the same time, it's less than what I want from my peaks (think Pugliese with Maciel). This is mainstream, not niche, and it can fill many spots in your playlists.

Photo by od Rod Long

Los Herederos del Compás count themselves in this category, and on their new album Que siga el encuentro they do a lot more than rehash D'Arienzo's Golden Age hits. His career spanned three additional decades, after all, and the new album contains several songs you have probably never heard in their original form. Plus a few new ones!

It came out in late December 2021 and is available on Bandcamp. as well as on the streaming platforms. Let's have a listen!

The music in detail

Taking a different approach than I do usually, I will review the tracks in a different order than they appear on the album, grouping the covers and the new songs separately to fit my agenda. The first section has four songs that frequently appear in DJ playlists in their various permutations.

El huracán appears at least once in D'Arienzo's discography, in 1944. You have probably danced to the classic Donato's version more often. Its arrangement by Los Herederos sounds fuller, more orchestral, as one would expect from a contemporary recording, and and unlike late D'Arienzo it's less ostentative in its presentation. Given its signature long intro, it could be a great start to an instrumental tanda.

In Florida, the band captures the essence of D'Arienzo's 1952 version with remarkable preciseness including the urgent staccato drive. I did not compare them note-by-note; the few phrases I checked lead me to believe the arrangement is identical. The song sounds as if you sit in the studio with D'Arienzo himself and hear the music play live as opposed to through the filter of an old shellac with all its limitations.

Things take a different direction in El marne. D'Arienzo recorded it three times: in 1939, 1950, and 1954, with increasing intensity. All are sharp with my favorite being the last one - so relentless, so driven. While Los Herederos keep the staccatos, their attack intensity is markedly less pronounced. On a second and third listen, I admit the interpretation is coherent and able to claim its own merit; personally though, I would have preferred more brute force.

I conclude the section with the cover of El último café that D'Arienzo recorded with Jorge Valdez in 1964. The resemblance is again very impressive and Pablo Ramos, the band's singer, delivers the goods. Here, I did not miss Valdez.

I did miss him somewhat in Destino de flor, a song that D'Arienzo recorded with him in 1957. In my dancing experience, I have not heard it played very often, and have actually played it only once in my own DJ sets. While the original is very sharp and intense, I felt like this cover made it sound too soft. Just like I wrote about El marne, which is again a testament to my own stylistic preference and not necessarily an objective flaw in the music (as if objectivity were possible here!)

The last true "cover" is Adiós, coco, an instrumental recorded by D'Arienzo in 1972 that, due to its very late temporal origin, lacks an immediate dancing appeal - it is very driven yet after a promising start, the narrative turns somewhat self-indulgent and the musical phrasing gradually more hostile to the dancer. While this cover improves on the original's sound quality, I felt it did not increase its danceability - nor could it, if it followed the same arrangement.

Now we get to the novel parts.

You surely did dance to Qué solo estoy, just not to a version recorded by D'Arienzo. Di Sarli recorded it with Podestá and forever imprinted it on dancers' hearts. And so this is a cover of a recording that does not exist, an imagination of what it could have sounded like, and a very convincing one.

Another song D'Arienzo did not record but conceivably might have is Que siga el encuentro, which gave the album its title. Pablo Ramos composed it together with the band's arranger, Denis Bianchi, and it is a compelling story about various tango encounters as they take place in Argentina. I marveled at how little suspension of belief I had to perform to become convinced I was listening to a D'Arienzo recording!

Todo el mundo al Marabú, a song written by Pablo Ramos with Leandro Pane, the band's bandoneónist, is reportedly about the legendary cabaret Marabú that is still open to milongas in Buenos Aires. It is a celebratory walking piece with a few interesting modulations and a character that is consistent with late D'Arienzo but not over the top.

Bajo el cielo de París is an instrumental re-imagination of Edith Piaff's Sous le ciel de paris as a tango vals. With just the right tempo of 66 BPM and a stable beat, it is a dancing delight, and one of the highlights of the album. I loved the little re-incarnation of Biagi's piano from Lágrimas y sonrisas towards the end!

Finally, we have a milonga Bella Ciao, which originally made an appearance not on the band's earlier album D'Arienzo en el Corazón, as I have written originally, but as a standalone single. This version cuts the long intro, which is helpful, and adds a persistent light percussion backdrop. One could debate whether this adds or subtracts from the experience but for a certain type of cross-over tanda, this could be appropriate. Personally, I play the earlier version with the intro being skipped.

In closing

There is much to like on this album, and what this DJ / reviewer appreciates the most is its dedication and focus on the dancers. There is no navel-gazing and no showiness here, and you can readily imagine a busy crowd in a poorly lit room circulating in a ronda while listening to it. Indeed, just listening does not make this album justice: it wants to be co-interpreted with your feet.

I am indebted to Pablo Ramos who helped me identifying the songs that did not originate in D'Arienzo's discography - thank you, and looking forward to the next one!

I was elated. This will sound wrong but bear with me: I hate Fresedo with a burning passion. I cannot stand hearing the orchestra, and I only dance to it by mistake, or when my apetite for dancing is stronger than my hate of the music. I wondered, and hoped: can Andariega make Fresedo's music palatable to me?

I would predict that he would get their signature "machine-gun" treatment such as "Margarita Gauthier" (which I love) from the earlier album Avanti. Yet the anticipated demolishing mostly has not happened: of the 8 songs on the album, six arrangements could be considered "traditional" and the dancer won't have any trouble identifying the tune. In only the last two burst out the quintessential Andariega staccatos to spray-paint the original canvas with some graffiti, and these are re-editions of their earlier work.

Traditional or otherwise, all the arrangements are made to please the crowd. While I have only ever played Buscándote and never any other Fresedo's recording on my milongas, I'll be happy to throw every single song from Fresedo con Amore into my sets.

The music in detail

The band is keeping their guns holstered for three quarters of the way, and interpret Fresedo's music without deconstructing and re-assembling it.

Sollozos, which in its original form propels me from the dance-floor towards the bar in 3 seconds tops, inherits a lot of its sweetness; plenty of sugar, but not overwhelmingly so. Less caloric, yet more nourishing.

Marisol Martinez enters the scene a few seconds after the two-minute mark, like an old "cantor de la orquesta" would; here as in the rest of the songs, she is part of the band, not its center of mass. I enjoy this nod to the Golden Age tradition. For this to work, the arrangement must be good enough to carry the tune with just the instruments, and this one is. As are all the others.

Isla de Capri has recently appeared on Dango, cleverly disguised as Det var på Capri and sung in Danish, makes a comeback with Marisol Martinez delivering it in the original Spanish. Unlike Fresedo's pre-diabetic sugar crush, Andariega's rendering has way more punch without sacrificing any of the song's lyrical qualities.

The better part of the story is instrumental, and the band tells both parts of the story: the uplifting, celebratory exposition, followed by a suspenseful counter-narrative, telling most of the story until Marison Martinez joins to declare the conflict resolved and finishing the song on a positive note with a recap of the main theme.

Sueño azul is dreamy and upbeat as the title would suggest, and there is no internal conflict to resolve. I felt that this song came dangerously close to over-sugaring it but the line was not crossed. At this point of listening to the album for the first time, I marveled at the restraint, or indeed respect, that the bandleader must have for the old bastard Fresedo, not to shoot through the melodic line with Andariega's staccato firepower. It was not to be: this album was not going to go post-modern, I thought. It was going to be a thoughtful re-imagining of Fresedo's music without a hint of irony.

Well, not so fast, soldier. In Siempre es carnaval, I've heard the first indication that Coviello was not going to just re-tell the same old tales without spicing them up if only a little bit. At first listen, my suspicion had not yet arisen: it sounded like plausible Fresedo, only with balls. It was after having made myself, under self-imposed duress, to actually listen to the original for the purpose of this review (yes, my dear reader, I did this because of you) that I realized how far this arrangement has departed. And what a marvelous job it does to show this gem of a song in a new light! It's still a happy walker, with just a lot more punch and oomph.

Now we get to the first instrumental of the album: Tigre viejo. I will admit that the original is quite passable, despite the violins still sometimes triggering me, as if Fresedo had run out of sugar before the recording session started on Thursday, August 16, 1934. I will give him that, yes.

Now, my most beloved rendering of this tune is by Tango Bardo, and I was anxious to hear how well could Andariega compete.

And you know what? I won't declare a winner, that would be silly. Andariega can certainly claim merit on their interpretation: it's just as charged and uncompromising. Imagine a bag of nails and razors being thrown into a rotating cylinder and being made to watch as it spins, faster and faster, breathlessly anticipating the first coming out any second and cutting through your skin but, miraculously, it does not happen: all sharp objects remain contained therein. And such it is with the arrangement: inasmuch as it would naturally lend itself to Andariega's usual treatment, the song ends up whole.

In simpler words: it's still a good ol' Tigre viejo.

The last new arrangement of the album is En la huella del dolor. The arrangement sharpens the staccatos but otherwise does not depart into novel territory. I've enjoyed the interplay of violins and piano startng about 0.44" and then again at 1.41", which is also present in the original; here, though, the piano responses reminded me of Biagi.

The last two songs are re-editions of Vida mía, originally appearing on the 2017 album Balliamo, and Buscándote from the album Gira gira of Sexteto Andiamo, reviewed here. I wish the band had invited Marisol Martinez to join them in re-recording these two instead of just including them as-is.

In closing

This reviewer found himself in an awkward position of holding two contradictory emotions simultaneously: disdain for Osvaldo Fresedo and lots of love for Andariega making a tribute to him. The band won me over, as I expected they would.

A kind listener who appreciates Fresedo's music will find a lot to like on this album, too. Perhaps more importantly, so will the dancers.

Every single track on this album is made for the milonga. The tempos are just right, starting with a comfortable walking tempo of the first three, and then speeding it up one notch for the other three. It's 1930s dance music recorded with 2020s technology, a pure joy for your ears and feet.

We've seen European bands taking the COVID break to indulge in making concert music, as you've read here in my reviews of Tangostoria by Bandonegro and Misión Tango by Cuarteto Soltango, for example. It's the Argentines who are reclaiming tango for the dancers again, most recently Tango Bardo with Roberto Minondi, and now Andariega with Marisol Martinez. For that I am thankful.

Well, not one singer, actually - the album Alguien cantó features many names you'll be familiar with: Cucuza Castiello, Marisol Martinez, Limón García, and others.

Published in October 2021, this album contains ten distinct tracks, with the majority of them suitable for dancing.

Let's have a listen!

The music in detail

Quiero verte una vez más offers a "nuevo" interpretation that balances on a thin line between the dancefloor and a concert hall. There are numerous rubatos throughout the song, and the singer, Walter "Chino" Laborde, directs the whole show. I found the story compelling, especially as it gains momentum torward the end.

Yo no sé que me han hecho tus ojos is one of my most beloved valses. From Canaro's 1930 recording with Charlo, a singer who my estimation rivals Gardel, or Canaro's later recording with Arenas that you've probably danced to, all the way to the takes of Collective Tango Esquinas and Sexteto Andiamo. Love it.

The Cachivaches and Marisol Martinez take us back to the impossibly slow valses of early 1930s. At ~ 38 BPM, this interpretations is unsuitable for your regular vals tanda. It is very dreamy, nostalgic, and I would play it with a different purpose in mind than a vals: for a very, veeery relaxed nuevo-style dancing.

Destempo brings a couple of guitars to the show, accompanied by a double-bass and bandoneón, and then joined by the singer Limón García. It has a good tango beat and a comfortable tempo. I must find out where this song comes from; it's not present in the online databases, and I suspect it might come from the Argentinian folklore tradition. Nevertheless, I would find dancing to it easy.

(Update 1/2002: it is a new composition by Vito Ventu)

Tú, el cielo y tú offers a surprisingly traditional take on the famous tune; besides the electric guitar, which is characteristic of the Cachivaches, the band and the singer "Black" Rodriguez Mendez "stay in the lane", so to speak. I found it charming, and very danceable.

Soñemos sounds unmistakably happy, as it should, and in this case also very simple, unpretensious, as if the singer Eliana Sosa truly had not one worry in the world. Compare with the more orchestral, showy versions from the 1950s by Roberto Caló c. Roberto Rufino or Carlos di Sarli c. Roberto Florio, and you'll see what I mean. It moves me to dance without provoking me to overplay the happiness of it.

Transnochando could use a little more work when it comes to its arrangement, I felt; it sounds somewhat hollow until the singer Cucuza Castiello joins the party. He carries the rest of the song on his shoulders. He's excellent and gives the song its due; I just wish the ensemble would've found more notes to play.

Regin is a slower, atmospheric piece from the nuevo tradition. Sung by Dolores Solá, it is initially a mysterious, then increasingly dramatic narrative with a regular underlying rhythm. While compelling musically, I did not find myself inspired to dance. Your conclusion might just as well be in the opposite direction, however; I think that in this case it's purely a matter of taste.

Amarras is a less-known tune recorded by D'Arienzo with Hector Maure, and some if its spirit is present in this arrangement. Optimistic and flowing in a comfortable tempo, this Cachivache cover should please all but the most conservative dancers. The singer is Ariel Varnerin, who previously recorded four D'Arienzo covers with Orquesta Villa Crespo.

La cicatriz is a milonga only recorded by D'Arienzo in the golden era, and certainly one that's a staple in a DJ's repertoire.

Just like with Transnochando, I felt the arrangement needed "more notes" and possibly also more "kick" if you will: I would love to be chased on the dance floor with an imaginary raging bull when dancing to this tune. The character of Cachivache's cover is less then enthusiastic, definitely less sharp and less driven than D'Arienzo's original, even as the singer Martin Tronzoco brings some much-needed energy when he joins. Admittedly, I am very particular in what I love in a milonga, so interpret this accordingly.

The final track is El sueño del pibe and it is an unassuming, slower walking piece. The singer Pacha Mendes sounds as if recorded from a distance, and I suspect this might be a live recording, which would explain this. I would wish the band to have a stronger opinion, in terms of the arrangement and execution, given that the bar has been set quite high by Pugliese with Chanel back in 1945. As it stands, I feel it does not provide a fully satisfying conclusion to this otherwise compelling album. This reviewer has learned that the singer is actually Maradona. Yes, that Maradona, and the song is meant to be a tribute to the great soccer player. The singing was reportedly taken from a TV recording, and then the band added music to it. Wow!

In closing

El Cachivache are a prolific band, one that is always busy creating and recording new music. I did not expect them to come out with a vocal album, and I am very pleased that they did. It's worth listening to, and most of the tracks will be perfectly at home at a milonga.

My favorites are among the more traditional arrangements this time: Tú, el cielo y tú, Soñemos, and Amarras. And I will look for the right moment to play some of the others, especially the vals Yo no sé que me han hecho tus ojos.

With this review I am back from my extended tango sabbatical. Ironically, another break might be forced upon me as the God-forsaken COVID has just exploded again in Czechia, and I am not confident that the new government will avoid the temptations of yet another lockdown. One can always hope. I guess.

The bandoneonist Stine Helkjær Engen, who plays with Andariega, has released a unique album called Dango. Quoting:

DANGO is a musical concept born out of a desire to unite two worlds; the Danish Song Treasure and tango.
This has be done by creating tango versions of the best Danish melodies.

And that's exactly what you will get.

The music in detail

The vals Canción de primavera opens the album with a comfortable beat and uncomplicated melody sung by Marisol Martinez. The combination of Spanish lyrics and decidedly non-latino theme is a play of contrasts that amuses but does not shock. I think that the dancers will find this easy to express with their feet.

Man binder os på mund og hånd suggests slow movements at the beginning; once the major theme kicks in, the instruments become more lively, and one can dance the rest on the normal walking tempo. We hear Danish now as sung by Camilla Marie Dahlgreen. Towards the end, the beat slows down, and the dancers would again be prompted to cut their speed by half. I caught myself wondering whether the melody, despite its tango arrangement, is a step too far from what I'm likely be motivated to dance to.

Another vals follows: Vida tan fugaz, with Marisol Martinez and in Spanish again. Quite sweet and also very short, ending somewhat unexpectedly after the 2 minute mark, because the singer comes in at 1.32", and so one would expect her story to take longer :)

Alt hvad hun ville var at danse takes back to Denmark and is the only performance by a singer credited as "Favne". Even as the melody and the language is distinctly non-tango, the arrangement prompts me to get on my feet this time.

Bailemos el final completes the vals tanda on this album - thank you, Stine, for making it easier to play from this album at the milongas :) It is even shorter than the second one, ending at just 1.45". However, it feels more "complete" as Marisol Martinez comes in early.

I felt that Det var på Capri works convincingly as a tango, perhaps because the theme sounds derived from, or is actually a source for, an actual tango song, a name of which unfortunately escapes me (I did check a few 1930s Canaros but nothing popped up). I would love to know the whole story behind this track. Be it as it may, it is the most convincing tango of the lot. (Update: it's a re-imagining of Isla de Capri by Fresedo - thank you so much for the hint, Stine!)

And finally, we hear some Andariega - in Midt om natten. According to credits, the band-leader Luigi Coviello arranged the final song on the album. His signature is all over it. Correction: no, actually #6 is Coviello's arrangement. Still, the last piece does sound the most like Andariega to me. :)

I found the piece convincing but for listening only. Somehow it feels very intellectual, removed from the dance floor. Maybe too urgent, too serious? I don't know.

In closing

I have been amused and entertained by this album. It would seem impossible to marry the Danish and Argentinian traditions, except a skilled arranger can certainly make it so. And I would expect that Stine is now firmly rooted in both.

I am thankful for the vals tanda, and would be happy to mix one or two other Danish-language tangos with perhaps some Finnish tango. Yes, I know Scandinavia is not like one thing, but it might work for my Central European audience. Either way, this is going to be an occasional treat, a surprise for the dancers. I'll see how they like it!

There was a release by Tango Spleen, Vamos a la Distancia, but with the exception of the track Milonga Schupi, the listener is confined to his chair, unmoved to dance. I am ready to blame COVID for dragging bands out of the dance floor and into the concert hall, and pray that they come back.

I won't dwell too much on this point - let's have a listen to Tango Bardo!

The music in detail

Aníbal Troilo recorded Mensaje twice, once with Raúl Berón in 1953, then again with Roberto Rufino in 1965. It's the latter that has been the source of inspiration for the album's opening track. It has the same symphonic quality even as the orchestra has shrunk considerably.

I had no idea how many interpretations of the tango Tengo miedo exist: I have none of them in my library. The version that was the point of departure for Tango Bardo was the 1970 recording by D'Arienzo and Echagüe. It's a swift, staccato affair for a swift walk on the dance floor. Interestingly, another band that is derived from Romantica Milonguera, Orquesta Villa Crespo, recorded this a few years back and it's pretty much the same arrangement.

It's another story with Tu voz, only ever recorded by Biagi and Acuña in 1944. Inasmuch as I love Biagi's original, I am very impressed by Tango Bardo's re-telling of the story. Minondi, too, seems very well suited for the task.

We are back to D'Arienzo land with Paciencia, and even as Tango Bardo does not add anything particularly new to their interpretation, it does not subtract anything importan either. I liked the swift tempo and consistent drive.

I wonder which arrangement of Sin palabras was the source of inspiration for Tango Bardo's take. I wouldn't have been Biagi's or Pugliese's, both of which I love. The phrasing takes us to the late 1950s or even 1960s. I went looking for Troilo's recording from the latter period but apparently it does not exist. Nevertheless, it does sound like something Troilo would have recorded with Rufino in the 1960s. It's a powerful lyrical narrative with an impressive dramatic arch.

Rodolfo Biagi's spirit returns for another revival of Indiferencia, complete with the "wrong" accents on the 2nd beat. While not as sharp in their staccatos, the band re-creates the song faithfully. Even the brief slow-down at the very end is there, too.

D'Arienzo's take on Yuyo brujo is remade here with an arguably better singer than Laborde was, in my ears anyway. It has the same drive and energy, and I feel Minondi is way easier on the dancer. I consider Laborde's singing to be terribly confusing as a leader. Idiot never arrived on the beat, never. Minondi, on the other hand, is there to help the ronda without losing his expressiveness.

Trenzas comes in as another mystery, as far as locating the source arrangement goes. It might be Tango Bardo's own take. I checked whether Troilo recorded it with Rufino in the 1960s, and he didn't. Same as with Mensaje, the song takes 4 minutes to play out its narrative and is full of rubatos, moving forward in an uneven way as one would expect. When it moves, it moves, however. I loved it.

As if not wanting to leave us with this heavy emotional baggage, Tango Bardo closes the album with their optimistic take on Remembranza. Roberto Minondi sung it previously on Romantica Milonguera's album Algo contigo, and delivers a similar performance here. Despite quite enjoying the darker renditions of Remembranza such as that by Pugliese and Maciel, I'll admit I have been convinced that it is quite possible to render it with predominantly happy colors.

In closing

What can I say: Tango Bardo is in my Top 10 band list, and they have more than met the expectations I have for their work. The album is very consistent, providing ample material for tandas with a high potential for success. As they have not previously recorded with Minondi, making single-orchestra tandas might prove to be a challenge, and so hopefully they keep recording together!

PS

This won't warrant a separate review but for the fans of Romantica Milonguera, here's a new single - Como dos extraños. Or if you prefer, here's the video clip:

In May 2020, I wrote why I wouldn't go to a milong anytime soon. It took me about two months to reverse my position but truth to be told, I hardly had a chance to go back to dancing before the second (and third, and fourth...) waves of Covid lockdowns ended it.

This summer feels eerily similar. I can eat out, go shopping if I must, meet with friends, and people are dancing. A brief respite in between periods of oppressive tightening of our civic freedoms, or, if you prefer, between deathly waves of viral oppression. And just like last year, I am not dancing.

For as long as the last lockdowns lasted, I danced weekly in private with a friend. And just as the rules were relaxed, I stopped. It's like the end of winter when your body is so drained you can barely enjoy the spring sunshine.

I suspect that the birth of a son has played a role. There is currently no hole in my emotional life that tango should plug. I miss my friends, though. Perhaps I'll end up like some of the other old-timers who come to milongas merely to hang out.

I write this in part to explain the little sabbatical I took from this digital garden of mine. Not having danced and not having seen any worthwhile new tango recordings, I couldn't make myself write "tandas of the week" and whatnot just to fill the space. Better to reboot, and start anew.

Having been double-jabbed and expecting a green light from my Covid Pass app next week, I expect that the reboot shall come. Unless, of course, we are confined to our homes for another winter season.

With those encouraging words, I'd like to end this with a tanda I was recently able to complete once Tango Bardo recorded the fourth video in a series with the singer Osvaldo Peredo. I've grown to appreciate their collaboration more and more. I hope you, too, will enjoy it.

This compilation marks the end of my effort not to repeat myself. I have exhausted my library. But that's OK - I don't usually worry about this when playing live; it was just an experiment.

The format goes back to what milongueros expect - tango tandas of four, except when the length of the individual tracks grossly exceeds the customary 3 minutes.

You need to be on Spotify to enjoy my mixes. Unfortunately, there's no other way that would not severely limit my choice of bands and orchestras. Even there, some of my beloved bands are missing, e.g. Roulotte Tango.

With this edition I am taking a break. People are back to dancing, and so this endeavor would inevitably competed with a lived, danced experience at a milonga. Suffice to say, I would rather DJ for you in person.

Tracklist

Viento norte * Sexteto Cristal (2018)
Pavadita * Sexteto Cristal (2019)
Siete palabras * Sexteto Cristal (2019)
El recodo * Sexteto Cristal (2018)

Tristeza marina * Pablo Valle Sexteto / Bernardo Bergé (2014)
Para siempre * Pablo Valle Sexteto (2017)
Tus labios me dirán * Pablo Valle Sexteto, Bernardo Bergé (2017)
Verdemar * Pablo Valle Sexteto, Bernardo Bergé (2017)

Mujeres * Solo Tango Orquesta (2020)
Ángela * Tango Spleen Orquesta (2018)
Vals de invierno * Solo Tango Orquesta (2017)

Al compás del corazón | Late un corazón * Orquesta Típica Andariega / Marisol Martinez (2019)
Junto a tu corazón | Hoy como ayer * Orquesta Típica Andariega / Walter Chino Laborde (2017)
Solamente ella * Orquesta Típica Andariega (2019)
Trenzas * Orquesta Típica Andariega / Marisol Martinez (2019)

Marión * El Cachivache Quinteto (2020)
Qué falta que me hacés! * El Cachivache Quinteto (2016)
Oigo tu voz * El Cachivache Quinteto (2016)
Gloria * El Cachivache Quinteto (2020)

Milonga sentimental * Tango Spleen Orquesta / Mariano Speranza (2015)
Milonga del 900 * Conjunto Berretin / Joe Powers (2005)
Se dice de mí * Tango de Minas, Ursula Cuesta (2018)

Tristeza de la calle corrientes * Tango Bardo, Cucuza Castiello (2018)
Tibieza * Tango Bardo, Cucuza Castiello (2018)
Garúa * Tango Bardo, Cucuza Castiello (2018)

El puntazo * Cuarteto Soltango (2021)
Canaro en París * Los Herederos del Compás (2018)
Siciliano * La Juan D'Arienzo (2016)
Yapeyú * Orquesta Silbando (2015)

Lontano * Orquesta Típica Andariega, Fabián Villalón (2014)
Buonasera * Orquesta Típica Andariega, Fabián Villalón (2014)
Gira Gira * Orquesta Típica Andariega, Fabián Villalón (2014)

Julie * Cuarteto Soltango (2021)
Tigre viejo * Cuarteto Soltango (2021)
El andariego * Cuarteto Soltango (2021)
Puro apronte * Cuarteto Soltango (2021)

The Perfect Tango * Otros Aires (2016)
Essa * Otros Aires (2010)
Vino * Otros Aires (2007)
Perro Viejo * Otros Aires (2016)

Milonga del litoral * Cuarteto Tafí, Lëila Martial (2018)
Llorón * Metamilonga (2016)
La milonga de B.A * Cuarteto Tafí, Leonor Harispe (2013)

Muy suave * Solo Tango Orquesta (2020)
María * Quarteto Sol Tango (2018)
Chiqué | El elegante * Orquesta Típica Sans Souci (2020)
Porteñísimo * Solo Tango Orquesta (2020)

Tú, el cielo y tú * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera, Roberto Minondi (2020)
Rebeldía * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera, Roberto Minondi (2019)
Magdala * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera, Roberto Minondi (2020)
Soñemos * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera, Roberto Minondi (2019)

Alma, corazón y vida * Quinteto Ángel (2020)
Loca de amor * Quinteto Ángel (2020)
Lágrimas y sonrisas * Quinteto Ángel (2014)

Confidencias * Tango Bardo, Osvaldo Peredo (2021)
Gólgota * Tango Bardo, Osvaldo Peredo (2021)
Solamente ella * Tango Bardo, Osvaldo Peredo (2021)
Ahora no me conocés * Tango Bardo, Osvaldo Peredo (2021)

Adiós, Chantecler * Orquesta Villa Crespo, Ariel Varnerin (2018)
Tengo miedo * Orquesta Villa Crespo, Ariel Varnerin (2018)
Bien pulenta * Orquesta Villa Crespo, Ariel Varnerin (2018)
Remembranza | Remembranzas * Orquesta Villa Crespo, Ariel Varnerin (2018)

Baldosa floja * Tangorra Orquesta Atípica / Laura Vigoya Arango (2019)
Milonga en la 31 * Aureliano Tango Club (2010)
Baile a Beneficio * Otros Aires (2007)

Malena * London Tango Orchestra, Guillermo Rozenthuler (2016)
Sur * Bandonegro, Andres Martorell (2020)
Una vez * Cuarteto Soltango, Leonel Capitano (2021)

And Promises by Andain, the final "cortina" that I put in place because the invisible Spotify DJ will automatically start playing additional music that I did not select, and so I want you to know when my set has ended.

You don't have a CD player anymore? Well, I suppose it's YouTube for you, then.

I love, love D'Arienzo's work from the 1960s. It's bright, energetic, pumps you up. The sound is much cleaner than his Golden age output, thanks to the superior recording technology of the day. And it's not as overbearing as his last period from the 1970s.

This is a second D'Arienzo / Palma featured here. The previous one came out in 2019. I like this stuff.

Structure

1) Garronero, B-flat major, 65 BPM, 1961
2) En la madrugada, F major, 66 BPM, 1961
3) Dicha pasada, C minor, 66 BPM, 1961
4) Rompe y raja, B-flat major / minor, 66 BPM, 1960

This is a predominantly positive, upbeat tanda. The exception is Diche pasada, which is moving along in a minor key. The closing track mixes both tonalities, major and minor, resolving the previous drama.

I like to deploy this format (upbeat - upbeat - lyrical - upbeat/lyrical) when I need a positively-charged tanda. As opposed to just throwing in four merry tracks, that would be boring. I don't claim it's a secret sauce or anything of that sort, mind you, it's just something I do.

Usage

This one's easy: anytime you need some good, honest-to-God beats to get the ronda moving. Maybe after Di Sarli or so. I am not certain I would use it in the opening hour but after that, sure.

The first two tracks come from the album released in 1967. The last one, a duet with Mario Bustos, another great D'Arienzo singer, came out in 1969.

The music is symphonic and the singer dominates without sacrificing the vals drive. The beats are regular and clear. I would love to dance to it!

Structure

1) El vals de los 15 años, G major / minor, 64 BPM, 1967
2) Luna de arrabal, F major/minor, 65 BPM, 1967
3) Soñar y nada más, D minor, 66 BPM - with Mario Bustos, 1969

This one was a tough cookie. The online tango databases speak very little about the work of Osvaldo Requena, which is a pity. He was a great arranger and lived through the entire tango period (1931-2010). I don't own any music featured here, which I will try to rectify.

I chose this composition of the tanda with not a lot to choose from but thankfully it came out OK. El vals de los 15 años is a fine, upbeat opener, Luna de arrabal adds a handful of drama, and then Soñar y nada más acts as a powerful closer. Jorge Valdez actually recorded it with Requena but sans Bustos again in the 1970 but I like this version better.

Usage

I would play this at a bigger event - this music needs a lot of space! With regards to timing, I would prefer a later slot in the evening. There's a lot going on here.

photo credit goes to Quan Nguyen

I don't hear Sassone that often on milongas, and I wonder why? The music is richly instrumented, builds a beautiful open space for you to step into, and supports you all the way. There are no rhythmical tricks to be played on the leader, none. A long-time milonguero finds plenty of opportunities for adornments and advanced footplay while the beginner can simply walk and enjoy the tour.

These four come from the album "Tangos de Oro" and were recorded between 1973-1974. Sassone was very productive and recorded a lot in the 1960s and especially 1970s. We've had a vocal tanda here in February 2020 but there are not that many compared to his instrumental legacy. That's fine, he could paint complex soundscapes without having to involve a singer.

Structure

1) Carrillón de la Mercéd
2) A media luz
3) El escondite de Hernando | Hernando's hideaway
4) Quejas de bandoneón

The narrative has predominantly lyrical colors and is dramatically restrained. The tempos are slighly below normal walking tempo at approx 57 BPM. This is still fine for relaxed walking. The harmonic progression is not remarkable (B-minor -> D major/minor -> F Minor -> D minor) but satisfying nonetheless.

Usage

This fits well wherever a 1950s Di Sarli instrumental tanda would fit. I actually like to open the milonga with this kind of sound. It's inviting, easy, yet not trivial. Later in the evening when you want to calm people's nerves works well, too.

photo credit to Noémi Macavei-Katócz

This time, no neo-tangos, no electro sound. This was not premeditated, it just happened. I am about to review Tangorra's new releases on Bandcamp, and it might be that the June edition will venture in this direction again.

I kept the tandas to 3s even though I usually play foursomes. Bear in mind that this is a playlist for home use. If you happen to dance to it, I think the 3-piece tandas will give you a better sense of variety, since you won't waste the first song looking for a partner - he or she is right there with you! 😂

You need to be on Spotify to enjoy my mixes. Unfortunately, there's no other way that would not severely limit my choice of bands and orchestras. Even there, some of my beloved bands are missing, e.g. Roulotte Tango.

Tracklist

Junto a tu corazón | Hoy como ayer * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera, Roberto Minondi (2020)
Magdala * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera, Roberto Minondi (2020)
Quiero verte una vez más * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera, Roberto Minondi (2020)

Al compás del corazón | Late un corazón * Orquesta Típica Andariega (2017)
Esta noche de luna * Orquesta Típica Andariega (2017)
Margarita Gauthier * Orquesta Típica Andariega (2019)

Non Ti Scordar Di Me * Tango Spleen Orquesta / Mariano Speranza (2015)
Distinto pero igual * El Muro Tango, Juan Villareal (2018)
Salteñita * Sexteto Fantasma / Rodrigo Perelsztein (2014)

La cautiva * Orquesta Típica Sans Souci (2020)
Chiqué | El elegante * Orquesta Típica Sans Souci (2020)
Fantasía en tiempo de tango * Orquesta Típica Sans Souci (2020)

Corrientes y Esmeralda * La Juan D'Arienzo, Fernando Rodas (2021)
Esta noche me emborracho * La Juan D'Arienzo, Fernando Rodas (2021)
Andate por Dios * La Juan D'Arienzo, Fernando Rodas (2021)

Milonga de mis amores * Bandonegro (2017)
De pura cepa * Los Milonguitas (2017)
La trampera * Solo Tango Orquesta (2020)

Marioneta * Orquesta Tipica De Angelis, Rodrigo Perelsztein (2018)
Antes que salga el sol * Orquesta Tipica De Angelis, Rodrigo Perelsztein (2018)
Entre tu amor y mi amor * Orquesta Tipica De Angelis, Rodrigo Perelsztein (2018)

Alhucema * Quarteto Sol Tango (2018)
No te apures, Carablanca * Quarteto Sol Tango (2018)
Igual que un bandoneón * Quarteto Sol Tango (2018)

Palomita blanca * Thito Amantte (2019)
La pulpera de Santa Lucía * Thito Amantte (2019)
Corazón de artista * Thito Amantte (2019)

El adiós * Sexteto Cristal, Guillermo Rozenthuler (2018)
S.O.S. | Condena * Sexteto Cristal, Guillermo Rozenthuler (2018)
Caricias * Sexteto Cristal, Guillermo Rozenthuler (2018)

Yapeyú * Pablo Valle Sexteto (2017)
El puntazo * Cuarteto Soltango (2021)
Loca * Orquesta Silbando (2015)

Baldosa floja * Tangorra Orquesta Atípica / Laura Vigoya Arango (2019)
Che Jeringa * Daniel Melingo (2000)
La Tangómana * Kevin Johansen (2002)

Negracha * Tango Bardo (2015)
La mariposa * Tango Bardo (2015)
De Floreo * Tango Bardo (2017)

Toda mi vida * Pablo Valle Sexteto / Bernardo Bergé (2014)
Yuyo brujo * Pablo Valle Sexteto / Bernardo Bergé (2014)
Te aconsejo que me olvides * Pablo Valle Sexteto, Bernardo Bergé (2017)

Yo no sé que me han hecho tus ojos * Sexteto Andiamo (2019)
Buonasera * Orquesta Típica Andariega (2019)
Gira Gira * Sexteto Andiamo (2019)

Felicidad * Sexteto Fantasma / Rodrigo Perelsztein (2018)
Marión * Sexteto Fantasma / Rodrigo Perelsztein (2019)
Así se baila el tango * Sexteto Fantasma / Rodrigo Perelsztein (2019)

No me extraña * El Cachivache Quinteto (2018)
Comme il faut * El Cachivache Quinteto (2016)
Corazón * El Cachivache Quinteto (2016)

Con mi perro * Metamilonga (2016)
Pena Mulata * Malena Muyala (2006)
Así me gusta * Juan Carlos Cáceres (2004)

Alma * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera, Hache de Huilen (2019)
Torrente * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera, Hache de Huilen (2019)
Recién * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera, Hache de Huilen (2018)

And Promises by Andain, the final "cortina" that I put in place because the invisible Spotify DJ will automatically start playing additional music that I did not select, and so I want you to know when my set has ended.

Alberto di Paulo is not a milonga regular. Although his career had begun in the Golden age and spanned the entire tango period of the 20th century (he died in 2011, so he must have witnessed the great tango revival), he's now mostly forgotten outside the collector community. One reason for that could be that his orchestras appeared to have existed mostly to support singers such as Echagüe, Laborde, or Podestá, who required the services of a band-leader at one time or another. That would've made him number #2 in such ensembles, and one can only speculate how that would effect his style development and recording opportunities outside of those arrangements.

The recordings selected for this tanda were made in the early 1980s (1980-1981). I was already alive and kicking at that time, albeit not yet devoted to tango. I find it vertigo-inducing to consider that Master Podestá was still singing (forcefully, without many signs of decline) in my lifetime. I remember being incredulous when told he was still alive at the time I started with tango but that is sadly not the case anymore.

Podestá is loved for his early work with Di Sarli, Caló, and Laurenz. I wonder what he thought of it later in his life. It must be unsettling to ponder if one has said all he was supposed to say in his early adulthood? Be it as it may, that thought, if he ever had it, did not stop Maestro Podestá to sing and record until the end of his life.

I haven't listened to these recordings for many years and approached them with caution. It was to my great delight when I re-acquainted myself with them and found them compelling. They are mightily lyrical, use some rubatos for effect, and yet their drive is consistent and conductive to dancing. This, and Maestro Podestá still "got it".

Structure

1) Alma de bohemio
2) Ave de paso
3) Motivo sentimental
4) Tú, el cielo y tú

I have 6 recording from Di Paulo's collaboration with Podestá. According to tango.info, there's a couple more. The selections follow one of my standard models for a lyrical tanda where I look for a captivating opener, provide an early relief with #2, then develop more the lyrical potential and end with something poignant.

Usage

No special considerations.

One might be able to sneak this tanda into a conservative DJ set where no modern music is requested by the organizers. In such a case, I would play it later in the evening instead of some 1950s music. The chances are good that the organizer wouldn't even notice that this music is from the 1980s.

I mean no offense to the organizers, I'm sure they would notice if I played Andariega or Gotan. This music, unlike many other tangos from that period, does not sound like it was meant for the sitting audience. I don't know if the people danced to it at that time but they can, now.

image credit goes to M

Siciliano breaks no new ground. The band lets you make no mistake as to what they are trying to do: cover the old bastard Juan. So that's what they do. Just like their pals Sans Souci who cover Miguel.

I am torn in half (approximately) when trying to decide whether such an endeavor makes a lot of sense or not. A long time reader knows. Here, I would say I am torn asymmetrically by 1/3 to 2/3, and only a minority of me leans toward the affirmative.

The thing with covers is that you have to go all in, and then some. Not just capture the style: express it with fidelity. And, match the technical excellence of the original.

La Juan wins about 80% (approximately again) in the style category, and 60-70% in the technical. It's pretty damn good when judged solely on the danceability basis. Where I am less sure: if I wanted to play Loca, for example, would I choose their version or the original? Take into account that the quality available transfers thereof is more than sufficient for the dancing crowd.

This won't be a negative review, worry not. It just ain't celebratory, either.

The music in detail

Loca is one of those evergreens that so many bands cover. This version brings nothing new to the table. It's solid, the notes are where they are supposed to be, and that's about it.

El internado suffers from indecisive intonation. Stylistically, it covers D'Arienzo's 1954 take closely. I like the staccatos. There's even some oomph. Good.

I don't have D'Arienzo's 1956 Olga as an acceptable transfer, and so I'm happy to have this copy. Good danceable valses by contemporary bands are hard to come by. Thank you.

Corrientes y Esmeralda is the first of the three vocal covers. D'Arienzo recorded it in 1945 with Echagüe. Honestly, I like Pugliese's take the most. I don't think D'Arienzo put his heart in this one. La Juan's cover is clearer, more engaging.

Más grande que nunca is a solid instrumental, not frequently covered. D'Arienzo recorded it in 1958, and it comes with all his bells and whistles of that period. Bandonegro did it recently, and I think La Juan comes closer to the original, for what's it worth.

Pampa has a decidedly softer character than the (1951 version) by Juan himself. I like it more manly. Angrier, rougher.

Esta noche me emborracho is a fun story. I think Biagi told it best. D'Arienzo did it three times, first time in 1928 (!) and twice with Echagüe - in 1946 and 1954. I prefer the last recording for its oomph and general manliness. I found the same qualities in La Juan's cover. To some degree.

I did not find Siciliano in the D'Arienzo catalogues, and I presume it's a original piece. If that's so, hats off! It does sound D'Arienz-ish, has a great drive and that typical late D'Arienzo ending.

D'Arienzo recorded Re fa si twice and I assume this cover to be inspired by the 1972 version. It's again softer than the original, and this time I have to conclude it's by design. To each his own, I like it sharper, much sharper, but I've got to respect the decision of the artists.

Andate por Dios with Valdez is one of my D'Arienzo favorites. As such, it would be a tall order for any cover to displace it. Let's just say it did not happen this time.

How about Hotel Victoria? Not bad at all! D'Arienzo took three shots at it, and I assume this cover is sourced from the 1966 recording. While not as sharp as the original, I enjoyed it nonetheless. Unless you are familiar with D'Arienzo's work from the 1960s (and reliable sources tell me you aren't), the arrangement won't sound that familiar to you. It's actually quite clever.

Likewise, few have danced to D'Arienzo's 1967 recording of Inspiración. It's by far the best track of the album in my estimation. Decisive, lyrical, moving. The others are easier to dance to, but Inspiración moved me the most musically.

In closing

There are twelve tracks, all of which I would be happy to play for my dancers on appropriate occasions. I think La Juan plays for dancers a lot and it shows. There is none of the European showmanship, no complicated arrangements suited best for concert halls.

If they decided to cover Carabelli, OTV, or Malerba (just ad-libbing), this review would read a lot different. As it is, I could not avoid constant comparisons and juxtapositions. There were times where I would not trade the original for anything, other times where I was lukewarm, and I would choose a few tracks just on their merits without even considering the original at all.

D'Arienzo is such a towering figure in the tango canon that I feel it could not have gone any other way.

Now, I am not saying one should never cover D'Arienzo tunes, and I have reviewed favorably many attempts to do so. When the band decides to dedicate itself to doing so 100% of the time, however, I would generally prefer they try to outsmart its ancestor. To try harder, to do more, to unseat him.

The impression I have gotten from this album has been less than that. It's solid work, great for dancing, just not ambitious enough.

That said, it doesn't have to be. All things considered, this is dance music. Can this make you get up and dance? Yes. And that's all that matters in the end.

Teachers don't generally give equal space to tango, milonga, and vals, and out of the three tango genres, I estimate that milongas receive the least attention. Whatever the reasons are, milongas are decidedly less popular in my community at least.

People who like milongas, however, love them.

I follow the TTVTTM format, and so when I play milongas, I want to make my milonga lovers happy. As a result, I censor myself heavily and don't experiment that much.

This place is different. It's my playground. Here come three fast milongas recorded in the 1960s by three very different orchestras.

Structure

1) El firulete (José Basso, G major modulating to C major, 112 BPM, 1961)
2) La paparruchita (Juan D'Arienzo, A major / minor, 127 BPM, 1962)
3) Nocturna (Aníbal Troilo, D major, 124 BPM, 1963)

We had Basso here recently, and I like El firulete as the opener: it's happy, uncomplicated, and the tempo is still manageable.

The other two pull the rug from under the dancers. Only the bravest would stay on the dance floor. The key is to shorten your steps to centimeters, then you'll be fine.

I would never mix D'Arienzo and Troilo from the Golden era, mind you. Here, I reckon the compatibility is greater. Let me know in the comments if you disagree.

Usage

This is just for fun. I don't know if I would risk this with a live audience. I am a populist and like to tease them, not make them suffer. Then again, if I had the right people there...

image credit goes to Donny Jiang

Héctor Varela was pretty famous in his time, and you will occasionally hear his orchestra at milongas and festivals (not on encuentros, I assume). I don't know if he minds, though: he made his dent in the tango history, and whatever is currently in or out of vogue, he is sure to come back - like the Terminator.

And the Terminator he is: I don't know who else should symbolize the absolute emotional maximums achievable in tango. Behind him, a wasteland of debris and tortured souls. You can't beat him at his game: if you tried, you'd produce a parody at best.

Structure

1) Historia de un amor (1956, F minor, 64 BPM)
2) Sin barco y sin amor (1955, C major/minor, 64 BPM)
3) Y todavía te quiero (1956, A minor, 66 BPM)
4) Canzoneta (1954, D minor/major, 66 BPM)

This tanda would fit the occasion when I don't want to give my dancers any break. It's dark end-to-end, with only a few passages in the major key.

I don't do this often. When I do, I mean it.

This Historia de un amor is at the top of my list. I love the versions by Gobbi and Donato, too, as well as that by Zaz. Given a Sophie's choice, so to speak, I'd pick Varela's.

Sin barco y sin amor starts in the major key but provides only temporary relief. It has a slow ending, which I don't like anywhere but in the last song in a tanda. I'll accept that in the 1st and 2nd if I have to. Here, I must: I wanted to put together the highlights of what Varela recorded in the 1950s with Lesica.

Y todavía te quiero makes no attempts to balance its lyricism with lighter notes. In this format (4x lyrical), its only job is not to overshadow the closer. I think it tries hard but I doesn't, fortunately.

My story of Canzoneta mirrors what I wrote about Historia de un amor. Both Gobbi and Pugliese recorded it with Jorge Maciel, and their takes are legendary. Do I have to pick favorites every time? I don't, but the first time I heard it was with Varela and Lesica, and their recording is thus laid deepest in my memory, yet to be replaced.

Usage

When I was a new DJ, I liked to play Varela a lot. I suppose that many times I was the only person in the room having fun.

Nowadays it takes a lot of warm-up before you can put Varela on the front burner. It's too intense. To be fair, it takes a mature dancer to do it right. You can't take Varela literally, and you sure as hell can't "go with the flow": you would kill the ronda.

I think the trade-off, when applied responsibly, is worth it. Don't succumb, don't go crazy, internalize the passion and project using your feet only what you can project safely.

These days I don't dance (thanks for nothing, COVID) so it's private practice only. I danced this tanda with my 2-month old son in my arms. He gets agitated in the evenings and tango calms him down. Even Varela. I was impressed how well he followed my lead.

He had no issues with the rubatos, none.

It really isn't all that hard.

image credit goes to Nijwam Swargiary

You can get them as a digital download at Bandcamp but also in the vinyl format. Not my thing but I know you crazies exist. I am totally fine with my FLACs here.

Both songs are played in the milonguero style - the phrasing, the tempos, the expression all want you to get up and dance.

My first reaction when I sent it to my headphones was, this is tango but weird. It's the English that makes it so (in my head). Not because I don't like English, obviously: what creeped me out was that I could understand the lyrics.

I have a love-hate relationship with Spanish, which I don't speak. Tango would hardly have its identity without it, and yet I refuse to learn it or dig deeper into what the lyrics say fearing that, upon closer inspection, the lyrics when understood would sound trite and would subtract from, not add to, my enjoyment of the music.

The lyrics to these two songs are (thankfully) playful, perhaps ironic, and you won't find any broken corazón in them. Good.

The vals What we do explores what lovers can do to each other. It has a lyrical side, too: "with your soft embrace, you can feel my soul" but also "you can put me in jail, you can post my bail." :D

The milonga Shoes is a love-tribute to, you guessed it, shoes - dancing shoes to be exact.

The beginning phrases reminded me a little of Campo afuera, you'll forget the resemblance shortly after the singer joins in however.

It's a pity we only have two songs here (I know, I am an ungrateful bitch). I would so love to have at least a half-album to mix and match on my milongas! I will will play these the first chance I get, perhaps using them as the last songs in a tanda.

Thanks, Alex, for putting these out and make some more, please!

This time I cheated a little. There are valses by Héctor Varela from the 1970s. Not exactly "contemporary" but also not ancient: I was born in the 70s, so it counts.

I kept the tandas to 3s even though I usually play foursomes. Bear in mind that this is a playlist for home use. If you happen to dance to it, I think the 3-piece tandas will give you a better sense of variety, since you won't waste the first song looking for a partner - he or she is right there with you! 😂

You need to be on Spotify to enjoy my mixes. Unfortunately, there's no other way that would not severely limit my choice of bands and orchestras. Even there, some of my beloved bands are missing, e.g. Roulotte Tango.

Tracklist

Coqueta * Cuarteto Soltango (2021)
Gran Hotel Victoria * Quinteto Ángel (2020)
El amanecer * Sexteto Cristal (2019)

Tristeza marina * Pablo Valle Sexteto / Bernardo Bergé (2014)
Tus labios me dirán * Pablo Valle Sexteto, Bernardo Bergé (2017)
Verdemar * Pablo Valle Sexteto, Bernardo Bergé (2017)

Desde el alma * Conjunto Berretin (2004)
Valse Sans Nom * Trio Garufa (2004)
El aeroplano * Conjunto Berretin (2005)

Malena * London Tango Orchestra, Guillermo Rozenthuler (2016)
Íntimas * Orquesta El Arranque / Juan Villareal (2003)
Qué te importa que te llore * Orquesta El Arranque / Ariel Ardit (2002)

Gallo ciego * Bandonegro (2017)
Canaro en París * Los Herederos del Compás (2018)
Tierra querida * Quinteto Ángel (2020)

Sur o No Sur * Kevin Johansen (2002)
Bicharraco * Proyecto Caníbal Troilo, Hugo Rocca (2020)
El 238 * Cuarteto Tafí, Lëila Martial (2018)

Sentimientos * Andres Linetzky, Ernesto Romero (2006)
Amor Porteño * Deeper Sense Feat. Lucía Echagüe (2011)
Hoy * Bajofondo / Juan Subirá (2007)

La maraña * El Cachivache Quinteto (2020)
El blues de Wanda * El Cachivache Quinteto (2018)
Varela Varelita * El Cachivache Quinteto (2020)

Del salón en el ángulo oscuro * Héctor Varela / Fernando Soler (1973)
Así bailaban mis abuelos * Héctor Varela / Fernando Soler, Jorge Falcón (1973)
Una lagrimita * Héctor Varela / Fernando Soler, Jorge Falcón (1973)

Pavadita * Tango Bardo (2015)
Tigre viejo * Tango Bardo (2017)
Quejas de bandoneon * Tango Bardo (2015)

Vida mía * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera, Ximena Gimenez (2020)
Fuimos * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera, Ximena Gimenez (2020)
Nada * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera, Ximena Gimenez (2020)

Señores, yo soy del centro * Cuarteto Soltango (2021)
El chapucero * Cuarteto Soltango (2021)
Morena del 900 * Cuarteto Soltango (2021)

Hiena * San Telmo Lounge, Laura Cardini, Martín Delgado (2019)
Abrazame y bailemos * Lilí Gardés (2018)
Peligro * Gotan Project / Christina Vilallonga (2010)

El cencerro * Thito Amantte (2019)
Zorro gris * Colectivo Tango Esquinas (2018)
Este es el Rey * Sexteto Fantasma (2019)

Caserón de tejas * Solo Tango Orquesta, Walther "Chino" Laborde (2019)
Luna de plata * Orquesta Típica Sans Souci, César Peduzzi (2020)
Bajo un cielo de estrellas * Elegante Sport / Emiliano Castignola (2019)

La viruta * Bandonegro (2020)
La guitarrita * Los Milonguitas (2017)
Belgica * Tango Bardo (2017)

Remembranza * Bandonegro, Andres Martorell (2020)
Desvelo | De flor en flor * Tango Spleen Orquesta / Mariano Speranza (2015)
Una vez * Cuarteto Soltango, Leonel Capitano (2021)

No hay tierra como la mía * Orquesta Silbando, Sebastián Rossi (2018)
Milonga sentimental * London Tango Orchestra, Guillermo Rozenthuler (2016)
Con toda la voz que tengo * London Tango Orchestra, Guillermo Rozenthuler (2016)

Para dos * Orquesta Silbando (2018)
La mariposa * Orquesta Silbando (2018)
De floreo * Orquesta Silbando (2015)

And Promises by Andain, the final "cortina" that I put in place because the invisible Spotify DJ will automatically start playing additional music that I did not select, and so I want you to know when my set has ended.

His career spans some of the Golden age and all of the Forgotten age: he recorded in the 1960s and 1970s when few were dancing but consider that he also played the piano for Troilo in the 40s, and so his footing in the dancing tradition is solid.

Nowadays you won't hear his stuff much at milongas and marathons: I think he started his band too late and fell out of favor with the resurrectionists later as a result.

To be sure, I haven't played his music much either. This tanda is based on one of very few I ever did with Basso, in 2014.

Well okay, Tom, why should we listen to this then, you might ask?

I don't know if he recorded these for dancing or not but they move me. There's a lot of elaborate phrasing, modulations and whatnot but also an ever-present beat and drive. You probably know at least three of the songs from other orchestras, and I encourage you to listen to these versions with an open mind. You can find a lot you'll like there, too.

Structure

1) El amanecer (C minor, 63 BPM)
2) Sentimiento gaucho (A minor/C major, 63 BPM)
3) Una lágrima tuya (D major, 65 BPM)
4) Mala junta (G major/minor, 64 BPM)

All recordings are from 1961.

These are fun, playful walkers with a spark. The tempos are mostly regular with only a few sticks thrown under your feet here and there.

There's no particular narrative - I chose the Amanecer to start the tanda as it's immediately recognizable (how many times did I hear it in classes? Countless, although usually the Di Sarli version).

Sentimiento gaucho ups the intensity, suggesting the tanda could go haywire but it's just a misdirection. Una lágrima tuya corrects the course: it's very steady, its leitmotif balancing out the occasional rubato and assuring the dancers they are safe.

Mala junta by Basso is just lovely, its violin solo towards the end will break your heart (in a good way).

Usage

Frankly, I don't have a lot of experience playing Basso for dancers, so take this with a grain of salt.

Assuming a mostly traditional milonga, I would put these up later in the evening after I've plowed through the mandatory Canaros, D'Arienzos, and Di Sarlis. It might work fine after a lyrical tanda, e.g. 1940s Caló, and heading toward the modern era. I would play contemporary vocal valses after this. For example.

The issue is that the rhythmical structure is not uniform, there is some horseplay going on here and there. You'll want your dancers to be warmed up (I use this phrase a lot - have I ever featured a tanda that would be good for starting out?)

Anyway, I am not too sure yet. I might do more of 1960s and 1970s music going forward and learn it better than I do now to fix that.

I like German bands: Sexteto Cristal, Quinteto Ángel make frequent contributions to my sets, and so do Soltangos. Their technical prowess is top-notch and more often than not, they play for dancers and not just listeners.

SolTangos have a violoncello in place of the double bass, which gives them interesting possibilities: the cello can supply the bass lines but also contribute to the melody. They take advantage of that numerous times.

Misión Tango brings forward 21 tributes to various orchestras of the past. The covers go well beyond El choclos and La yumbas that you hear so often; in fact, the band has resurrected many songs that only have one or two historical renditions. That alone is a reason to lavish them with praise.

The following are my notes as I listen to the album, which you can also stream on Spotify or YouTube. Listen along!

The music in detail

The albums opens with La cumparsita in the style of Aníbal Troilo. I loved the melodic interplay of the violin and cello here. It's a gem!

Morena del 900 is a crispy, swift milonga in the style of Julio de Caro. I did not know the original and will now try to get it, it's great. This cover is even better - I could hardly sit still in my seat while listening to it. It's as if you are prompted by a thousand needles to jump out and start dancing with whoever is around.

Puro apronte comes with a lineage naming Alfredo Gobbi. That's a name we don't hear on milongas very often: he can be hard to understand with your feet. Imagine a distant cousin Pugliese who is somewhere on the autistic spectrum.

I've only changed my opinion recently. This midtempo walker has a somewhat complex arrangement but the Soltangos keep it going with sharp accents throughout. I'd be happy to dance to it.

If Gobbi lies on the boundary of mainstream tango music, the orchestra of Francini-Pontier punched right through it and escaped to the la-la land. Soltangos chose them anyway, for their interpretation of Tigre viejo and two other songs below.

A dancer with no point of reference will kindly imagine Pugliese's cousin again, only this time smoking a crack pipe.

Francini and Pontier made some fabulous danceable recordings with their respective orchestras; together, though, they produced highly intellectual, introspective, nervous music with hardly any dancing potential. Maybe that's why it's nearly impossible to obtain transfers of their recordings in a reasonable technical quality - nobody cared. Which is a pity, because I would love to get good transfers of their collaboration with Podestá, if only to have more Podestá in my library.

Soltangos removed some of the nervousness and replaced it with German precision manufacturing. The cover is technically excellent. I would still sit it out but hats off, the music now really shines.

Zamba para olvidarte is not a tango, as one might guess from the title, but a slow, meditative piece for listening. The band points to the singer Mercedes Sosa as the source of inspiration.

Back to tango. El puntazo brings back the spirit of Juan D'Arienzo and his iconic piece. It's not as angry as the original, more polished, more elegant. Personally, I like my Puntazo more raw, I like it being played with animal, barely restrained energy; I fear this is not a tango for the salon. That said, Soltangos did not miss a beat, every note is where it's supposed to be.

Mala junta has several compelling versions, e.g. Pugliese's. Soltangos chose Salgán's. A regular reader will remember I have expressed great reservations about the legacy of this gentleman. Salgán's arrangement, full of tricky beats, points, and counter-points, was a piece of cake for the cuarteto. It's a joy to listen to, and Salgán himself would be impressed. Whether or not I'd like to dance to it is an open question. I fear it pushes the boundary too far.

The 2nd piece sourced from the catalogue of Francini-Pontier is El tobiano. The version by Soltangos eliminates the problem of the atrocious transfer of the original, and lends itself to pure listening enjoyment - as a concert piece.

Mr. Gobbi's legacy comes into play again with El andariego. If I listened to the original with no prior information, I'd have guessed it came from Pugliese but he actually recorded it twenty years later than Gobbi. This song is not a child's play and will tax the dancer heavily; that said, I feel it has potential. It's full of compressed energy bursting out irregularly but in a controlled fashion. I would have a blast with this cover on the dance floor!

The final gift from the legacy of Francini-Pontier, so to speak, is Si sos brujo. The original is very moving, albeit not immediately danceable, and features beautiful violin solos, played by Mr Francini himself, about a half-way in.

The musicians of the cuarteto are fantastic, and this was candy to them: they play with relish and beat Francini-Pontier at their own game. I loved listening to it, even though my feet remained still.

Desde el alma is fabulous. You've danced to this vals a million times but I bet that never on this arrangement. Yes, Mr. Salgán rears his crazy head again, again to be outdone by the cuarteto.

The cover is a pretty straightforward vals, even with the occasional "strange notes" that give an advance warning that the train might go off the rails eventually. That moment happens at 2.26' with a false ending, after which the tempo goes down a few BPMs and we are treated with what Mr. Salgán really wanted to say all along... a bit crazy but I would say this might work great as the last piece of a late-evening vals tanda.

Julie is inspired by Pugliese's 1958 recording that is in my opinion not especially memorable, relative to his other works of the era. There and here it's a bit dry, intellectual, and without a clear melodic direction, despite it being initially quite compelling. Somehow the game is lost midway in all the virtuosity that we already know the cuarteto (and Pugliese himself) are very much capable of. For dancing, I'd prefer D'Arienzo's take from 1961.

The Soltangos return to the pre-modern era with Coqueta, a sweet melodic walker in the style of Típica Victor. It's a gem, and I thank them profusely for recording it. It brings the same memories that Viejo norte by Sexteto Cristal did. Love it!

I get why bands want to record Salgán, Pugliese, or Piazzolla: it's fun to play when you can play Paganini's capriccios when woken up at 3.30 AM with no prep. Still, if the bands today recorded more Coquetas and forgot the asshole Piazzolla even existed, the world would be a much better place (for milongueros, at least).

Anyway, plowing ahead.

El chapucero is a fantastic milona that only D'Arienzo recorded, in 1961, and here it comes again courtesy of the cuarteto.

Clocking over 116 BPM, this is not your gradma's milonga. Which is great, because only the true milonga lovers will remain on the dancefloor, while the faint-of-heart will clear more room for them. I savored Soltango's version even more than the original and would not hesitate dropping it in my sets once everyone is properly warmed up.

Don Agustín Bardi revives the spirit of 1960's Pugliese in a chamber music setting. Decidedly a concert piece, it won't move your feet but will capture your heart instead.

Ojos negros has a special seat in the tango heaven. Consider Di Sarli's take, for example. Or Maderna's. The emotional appeal is direct, uncomplicated.

That cannot be said about Quinteto Real's, which is the point of origin for Soltango's recording. While beautiful on its own merits, it is aimed at the sitting, unmoving audience. I would have loved Soltango's take on the Di Sarli's version better.

Camandulaje puts the spotlight on the 1970s Pugliese, and it's not a pretty sight. I would rate it as the most intellectual, needlessly complicated collection of notes that can still claim the tango tradition. The cuarteto is not at fault here, obviously, this is how Mr. Pugliese intended it. For me at least, it lacks an emotional charge and moved neither my ears not my feet.

Again: more Coquetas, please!

Edmundo Rivero recorded Milonga triste in 1976, the year I was born. That means it could possibly make it into my progressive mixes, that is, if it had any dancing beat. Interestingly, that version has a cello in it, which is possibly why the Soltangos covered it. I much prefer their take: the instruments do the singing instead of the aging Rivero, and they do so with conviction and elegance. Having said that, it's well below the normal walking beat at 45 BPM and I suspect that makes it more of a listening affair.

I did not know Sexteto Astillero prior to buying this album, and so I won't comment on how well the cuarteto reinterprets their piece, Chiru. To me it sounds like Piazzolla on speed - fast, virtuoso, dissonant. I found myself out of sight of the intended audience of this style of tango (nuevo).

And now for something I did not expect.

I was bracing myself for another nuevo complication but the cuarteto changed course...

In the final, bonus track of the album, the cuarteto brings the singer Leonel Capitano onboard and together they perform Una vez, a touching, somewhat introspective song Pugliese recorded with Morán in 1946 - and they make it shine, all new and fresh.

It truly is incredible.

They captured the character of the tune, its essence. Importantly, the singer - and I don't know how he does it - sounds remarkably what Morán must have sounded like if you sat in the studio in 1946 and listened to him as they recorded it, without the filter of the inferior recording technology of their time and without suffering the further beatings it took through time and transfers.

This might be the best vocal tango cover I have heard since I started writing this blog in 2018. You will love it, too.

Closing words

As is my custom, I will now clarify my remarks by reiterating that I am a milonguero first, a fan second, and a reviewer a distant third.

My filter is that of a dancing fan of new tango, and hence I judge the music primarily by how it moves my feet, then my heart.

This should explain my perhaps arrogant remarks about Salgán or Piazolla or Francini-Pontier. Or what I wrote in my reviews of the new albums by Bandonegro and Quinteto Ángel.

I first look at my feet and if they don't move, well, that subtracts a lot of points, if only in my head. Never mind, though - I want to be transparent about it and you are free to make your own choices.

With that caveat out of the way, I will say that the album Misión Tango is a phenomenal achievement and a worthwhile contribution to our living tango tradition. There are numerous songs here that I will happily play for my dancers. As for the rest, it makes for great listening.

While not as impactful as his brother Miguel, he recorded a few notable pieces such a wonderful renditions of Margareta Gauthier and Cualquier cosa and is the author of the unforgettable Soñemos. He has only started recording in the 50s, and so he missed out on the bounties of the Golden age.

The biggest issue we still have today is the scarcity of good transfers. The now defunct Japanese label CTA has produced two CDs that you can only get on the second-hand market. The online stores such as TangoTunes haven't produced their transfers yet.

Two of the valses featured here (#1 and #3) have versions that are better known. I love Pugliese's Manos adoradas but Caló's version might be easier on the dancers. Que nadie sepa mi sufrir have several interesting takes, e.g. by Castillo, De Angelis, or Tango Spleen. I like this one a lot. The middle piece, Mi barrio duerme, was only ever recorded by Caló. It's a fun, happy vals without genre-breaking ambitions, which I quite like as far as valses go.

Structure

1) Manos adoradas (1952, canta Alberto Santillán)
2) Mi barrio duerme (1953, c. Enrique Campos)
3) Que nadie sepa mi sufrir (1955, c. Jorge De La Peña)

I think Manos adoradas has that right "catchiness" to serve as the opener, and Que nadie sepa mi sufrir has an air of finality, so a closer it is - also, it's about 2 BPM faster than the other two at 66 BPM, which would be another good argument for me to put it at the end.

Mi barrio duerme has an uplifting character. The other two are quite intense, and so the dancers get a chance to catch a breath here. That's a pattern I like a lot in tanda threesomes: lyrical-happy-lyrical. Even if the middle song wasn't exactly happy, I would prefer it to be lighter than the other two.

Usage

The tempos are just right and there are no dirty tricks here. I would play this tanda literally anytime. At a typical weekday milonga, I'd wait until I have a full floor and not put this as the first vals tanda so as not to waste it.

PS The legality of the audio file embedded above is not entirely obvious to me. I have downgraded the originals to 128 kbps and stuck them together. Please kindly do not download and distribute the file(s), they are here for educational purposes only. Thanks!

photo credit goes to sept commercial

My friend, Prague tango DJ Vladimír Dudr, has recently pointed me to a new release by the Tango Time Travel, which is "Todos de Pedro Laurenz" and is, simply, everything he's ever recorded.

I don't think I've done a review of Golden Age transfers here, and I don't plan to. What I want to do instead is to re-broadcast this epochal event such that more people hear about it.

Why should you care about Pedro Laurenz?

He might have been the man who started the Golden Age with his Arrabal in 1937, as Michal Lavocah has written in his Tango stories. This song is a couple of years ahead of its time when you compare it with other recordings from the same year. A true progressive he was.

If he had only recorded his collaboration with Alberto Podestá and nothing else, he'd still have earned his place in the tango heaven. But did a lot more, albeit not nearly as much as his contemporaries like Di Sarli or Caló. Quantity, however, is hardly a reasonable measure of impact. Canaro recorded thousands of songs but will ever be remembered for five of them (kidding, maybe six).

Previously, you could get Laurenz on some CDs like "Creaciones Inolvidables Con Podesta Y Bermudez" or the "Roots of Tango" series. Nothing to write home about, too cleaned, all edges have been made blunt. Then TangoTunes released a few vinyl and later also shellac transfers. Finally, we have everything, and the transfers are incredibly good.

Quoting the booklet, there are songs that may not have been previously available at all: Quedate tranquilo, Poca suerte, Flores del alma, Todavía estás a tiempo and La gayola.

If you are a tango DJ who (also, or exclusively) plays the standard repertoire, or a collector, or a serious lover of classic tangos, go ahead and visit the TTT store. You owe it to yourself to spend your hard-earned euros or dollars on this.

BTW I am not getting a commission or anything for saying this. I buy a lot of music all the time and all of the music that I review here. Yes, it gets expensive, but at least I don't blow ALL of my money on liquor and women... 🤣

Transfers of Lucio Demare's work have been difficult to obtain in reasonable technical quality. TangoTunes released a few of them from vinyl, and there are CTA CDs that occasionally bubble up at the second-hand market (I have one). Perhaps the Tango Time Travel project will come with some? Oh, that would be so great!

I hadn't played Demare at milongas much before I got the CTA and TT transfers. Then I couldn't get enough of him. His lyricism is agitated, at times nervous, not as polished as Caló's - rougher, more street-wise. I love it.

Structure

1) Igual que un bandoneón (1945, D minor, 62 BPM)
2) Están sonando las ocho (1944, A minor/major, 65 BPM)
3) Corazón, no le digas a nadie (1944, E-flat major, 62 BPM)
4) Solamente ella (1944, G minor, 63 BPM)

Originally I picked a slightly different tanda from one of my 2019 sets but when I listened to it, I realized it's shit. This one nails it.

The format is lyrical-lyrical-upbeat-more lyrical while the original tanda was lyrical-upbeat-lyrical-upbeat. I don't like that format anymore, it lacks direction. Like I couldn't make up my mind.

This format clearly has a direction, with the inimitable Solamente ella driving the point home after Corazón, no le digas a nadie gave the dancers a brief respite.

Usage

This is serious stuff, not a casual tanda, and so it has to come at the right time. Spend some time preparing your dancers for it. Hypothetically speaking, I would put it after energetic instrumentals and follow it with happy valses, for example.

photo credit goes to Ava Sol

This filter is not necessarily without merit: if the band is any good, it would eventually release an album, and I would find it. Still, I am a geek, and I imagine I would be super duper excited if I heard a band that I have never heard of play live for dancers on some BsAs milonga.

That's not going to happen anytime soon, and so Bandcamp it is. And YouTube and other (very definitely anti-)social media.

It was in February that I noticed "Grupos y Orquestas de Tango Milonguero", a new channel on YouTube that premiered with interviews and performances by O.T. Conurbana and Los Herederos del Compás. The program is in Spanish but the producers usually add English subtitles eventually.

The interviews are interesting on their own and a curious visitor can gain unique insights into how contemporary Argentine bands think about their craft and its purpose. That's however peripheral to my own focus here, which is the music itself. It alone can speak for itself. (And yes, I see the irony here as I all I do here is write about music and yes, I feel the impostor syndrome a lot but then again, I am a fan, not a music critic, and that absolves me).

Where was I? Oh yes, the music.

The Grupos released two compilations on Bandcamp and both are worthy of your attention.

Volume 1 (February edition) features eleven different bands, only about half of which I knew. Volume 2 that came out in March added another 11. That's 22 bands! I find that incredible, even though some of the ensembles (like Los Reyes del Tango, Sans Souci) have been around for decades.

I have done review of the better known brands before, and so for the purpose I have here, I will skip over them. If you haven't yet heard Andariega or Sans Souci, browse the Reviews tag! I've got some notes to sell you.

Before listening on, bear in mind that many of the recordings are live, not from studio albums. What they lack in mastering they make up with energy and authenticity. Another caveat: I selected a few songs that spoke to me in the moment. I did not just dismiss the rest and neither should you. What did not move me might move you instead. It's music.

Here are my picks of the bands you may not have heard about yet.

Volume 1

Estrella by Tanguarro is a believable cover of a piece recorded by D'Arienzo with Valdez in 1961. If I counted right, they are just a trio with a singer (I heard the piano, bandoneon, and violin). Quite the guts to go at D'Arienzo with so few guns, and yet they did, and I think they scored.

La noche que te fuiste by Quinteto Bohemia Tango had me thinking it would be an instrumental version, so rich and varied is the arrangement, until the female vocal joined a minute and half later. The cover is very recognizable but not does follow Caló's script slavishly. It's likeable, melodic, danceable from start to finish.

Buscándote is overplayed and as a result, it takes a lot to impress. I found the version by Dramática Tango to be self-sustaining: it does not exploit the lyrical potential of the material as much as I would've liked, doing instead a relaxed, unassuming interpretation that simply pleases you.

Jamás ni nunca by La Juan D'Arienzo sounds like a cover of D'Arienzo but I cannot find that song in the online databases. Could it be a make-believe original? I want to find out!

Volume 2

Entre vias by Pelele Trio sounds like a pot-pourri of several tango classics and is laid-back, slow walker. There's just bandoneon, double bass, and guitar, and so the atmosphere is very informal, casual. I generally like to play at least quartets and prefer fuller ensembles; that said, I'd be happy to mix this one into a "pub" tanda.

Esperando el 24 by Sciamarella sounds also familiar, and yet I can't again find it in the online databases. It's a slower, upbeat piece with a pleasant female vocal. I would like it even better if it were a few BPMs faster :)

Amor y celos by Los Muchachos is a loveable vals cover (hear Lomuto's take) performed by a trio of double bass, guitar, and clarinet. That instrumentation makes it sound like the Balkans and put a smile on my face. If only the band chose a more unique name for itself, not sure if I can pick them out from the lineup on Google. The trio of the same name that I found on Facebook has two guitars and a singer. 🤔

There's a bunch more, and I encourage you to explore the rest of the albums on Bandcamp. I am looking forward to the April editition!

José García is an old flame of mine. His orchestra didn't make much dent in his time, and perhaps he didn't even intend to make one. He was a professional violinist, and must have been very demanding of his students, with who he formed his orchestra, because unlike other bands of his time (and today!), his violins play remarkably in tune. This is one of the reasons I love his orchestra so much.

I'd mark his style as "Di Sarli lite", very calm, even, measured, without Di Sarli's nervousness but with a similar flair. His lyricism is genuine yet restrained. It's not often that I hear a tanda of his works at a marathon and when I do, it puts a smile on my face and I've got to dance.

Structure

1) Junto a tu corazón (1942, B-minor, 61 BPM)
2) Zorro plateado (1943, C major/minor, 61 BPM)
3) Quién no tuvo un amor (1944, E minor / A major, 62 BPM)
4) Adiós, adiós, corazón (1942, F minor/major, 60 BPM)

I start with a celebratory Junto a tu corazón to spread good mood. Zorro plateado follows up with playfulness, then switches to a minor key and goes with a more lyrical narrative, which culminates in Quién no tuvo un amor. That is resolved by the fabulous Adiós, adiós, corazón, a song so wonderful I shake my head in disbelief when I find out it wasn't recorded way more often (according to Tango-DJ.at, only García and Fresedo recorded it).

This is one of the common patterns I use in my tandas: start upbeat, develop some drama, resolve it, and finish on a high note again. Nothing particularly original, I'm sure.

Usage

I found this tanda in my set from February 2020, sandwiched between Tanturi valses with Castillo and Biagi instrumentals. I think it'll do great after something lively when you need to turn down the drama and let things flow for a while. If you need a a more lyrically exposed tanda, you'll need to look elsewhere, perhaps for Di Sarli or Caló. This one is moderate, and would also work well in the opening hour of a weekly milonga to give everyone a chance to find their rhythm.

I kept the tandas to 3s even though I usually play foursomes. Bear in mind that this is a playlist for home use. If you happen to dance to it, I think the 3-piece tandas will give you a better sense of variety, since you won't waste the first song looking for a partner - he or she is right there with you! 😂

You need to be on Spotify to enjoy my mixes. Unfortunately, there's no other way that would not severely limit my choice of bands and orchestras. Even there, some of my beloved bands are missing, e.g. Roulotte Tango.

Commentary

This time, I was even more fearful that I'd run out of fresh music. I don't want to repeat myself in this series. My goal is to do this as long as I can without much repetition so that I can see for myself whether the library of modern tangos is plentiful enough to replace the classic repertoire.

Neither one of those things would be a concern to me in live milongas. I reuse songs with abandon and when I have a favorite, people hear it often. And I do play tango standards for dancing, and it usually takes up about 50% of my sets.

I ended up with a playlist that only contains 5 tracks that were already present in an earlier progressive mix. Not too bad. I am almost ready to throw in the towel with valses and milongas though. There just aren't all that many good ones around in any period, let alone the modern one.

Tracklist

Ríe, payaso * Orquesta Silbando, Sebastián Rossi (2018)
Bien pulenta * Orquesta Villa Crespo, Ariel Varnerin (2018)
Dime mi amor * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera, Ximena Gimenez (2020)

A la gran muñeca * Pablo Valle Sexteto (2017)
El ingeniero * Cuarteto Rotterdam (2018)
Comme il faut | Como debe ser * Quinteto Ángel (2014)

Cuando florezcan los rosales * Sexteto Cristal, Guillermo Rozenthuler (2018)
Noches de invierno * Sexteto Cristal, Guillermo Rozenthuler (2018)
Vals del recuerdo * Sexteto Cristal, Guillermo Rozenthuler (2018)

Solamente ella * Orquesta Típica Andariega (2019)
Buscándote * Sexteto Andiamo (2019)
Jamas retornarás * Sexteto Andiamo (2019)

Pan comido * Dúo Fuertes Varnerín (2014)
Alma de loca * Dúo Fuertes Varnerín (2014)
Pregonera * Dúo Fuertes Varnerín (2014)

La milonga de Buenos Aires * Solo Tango Orquesta (2020)
Estampa de varón * Quarteto Sol Tango (2018)
De pura cepa * Los Milonguitas (2017)

Yumba * Otros Aires (2007)
Tangwerk * Otros Aires (2010)
Essa * Otros Aires (2010)

Lapin tango * Tango Pohjan Tähden, Elina Koivusaari (2013)
Satumaa * Tango de Minas, Ursula Cuesta (2018)
Puolimatka * Tango Pohjan Tähden, Elina Koivusaari (2013)

La Vida Azul * Orquesta típica Mala Pinta (2015)
Una triste verdad * Quarteto Sol Tango (2018)
Alma, corazón y vida * Quinteto Ángel (2020)

Invierno * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera, Marisol Martinez, Roberto Minondi (2017)
Sin sabor * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera, Marisol Martinez, Roberto Minondi (2017)
Mi serenata * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera, Marisol Martinez, Roberto Minondi (2017)

Canaro en París * Los Herederos del Compás (2018)
Más grande que nunca * Bandonegro (2020)
Este es el rey * Bandonegro (2020)

De todas las cosas * Piraña, Romina Grosso (2019)
Milonga del litoral * Cuarteto Tafí, Lëila Martial (2018)
Nací para Molestarte * China Cruel (2016)

Everybody Hurts * El Cachivache Quinteto (2020)
Berlin * El Cachivache Quinteto (2020)
Como la gente * El Cachivache Quinteto (2020)

Felicidad * Sexteto Fantasma / Rodrigo Perelsztein (2018)
Recuerdo malevo * Sexteto Fantasma / Rodrigo Perelsztein (2019)
Marión * Sexteto Fantasma / Rodrigo Perelsztein (2019)

El vals y tu * Orquesta Silbando (2018)
Ángela * Tango Spleen Orquesta (2018)
Gira Gira * Sexteto Andiamo (2019)

Tristeza de la calle corrientes * Tango Bardo, Cucuza Castiello (2018)
Tibieza * Tango Bardo, Cucuza Castiello (2018)
Garúa * Tango Bardo, Cucuza Castiello (2018)

Yapeyú * Orquesta Silbando (2015)
El internado * Los Herederos del Compás (2018)
Loca * Orquesta Silbando (2015)

Milonga sentimental * Tango Spleen Orquesta, Mariano Speranza (2018)
Pena Mulata * Tango Spleen Orquesta / Malena Muyala (2015)
Silueta porteña * Tango Spleen Orquesta, Mariano Speranza (2018)

Bomboncito * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera, Roberto Minondi (2017)
Todo es amor * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera, Roberto Minondi (2017)
Adiós corazón * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera, Roberto Minondi (2017)

Here is the first, second, third, and fourth edition. Next one's coming in ~ 2-4 weeks. Abrazos!

Their second album Tanchestron from 2017 captured much of the spirit with which they play live and not just a few tracks from it have appeared in my sets. And so I was giddy when I found out that a new album, Tangostoria, came out recently, in October 2020 to be exact.

Just like their fellow travelers Quinteto Ángel, they recorded it during the dry months of Covid-induced tango shutdown. Whether that had any impact on the orientation of the album, I have no way of knowing. Compared to Tanchestron, however, it aims at dancers less directly, keeping one leg on the dancefloor and stretching the other into a concert hall.

I have made it clear over the last few seasons of this blog that I don't particularly care for concert-style tango. In fact, I find listening to music that isn't made for dancing tedious. It is for this reason that I won't do a full review and will only focus on the songs that moved me to dance. That is not so much a judgement of the album that is masterfully made but rather a confession and self-acceptance of my bias.

The music in detail

The Uruguayan vocalist Andres Martorell joined the band in collaboration in six of the twelve tracks. His performance is notable for its clarity, even temperament, and a certain aristocratic flair. I imagine he would look really good in a tuxedo as opposed to, I don't know, Limón García, who sounds like leather jacket, jeans, and tattoos all over the place if you allow this rather strained analogy.

Sur, the opening track, represents the many sides of the album. Its authorship goes to Aníbal Troilo, who recorded it in 1948 with Edmundo Rivero. In those years we already hear Troilo moving away from simpler Golden Age phraseology toward his latter, more narrative driven period with ample rubatos and side-quests in every song.

Bandonegro went further in their interpretation, and plays loose with the tempo, often stopping the walking beat and letting the singer linger on the phrase. It is closer to a canción that Troilo's version was. There are enough passages when the beat resumes, however, and I think it's therefore usable for dancing for that moment when its contemplative mood and beautiful melodies can make the right impact.

Troilo's Desencuentro, immortalized in his recording with Roberto Rufino in 1963, is dated long after the Golden Age turned into the (much less appreciated) Silken Age. It has a complex narrative arc with many peaks and valleys with the singer the dominant story-teller and the dancer at his mercy.

I would say that Martorell can keep the leaders in line as he is very clear and somewhat predictable (in a good way). Not as forceful as Rufino was, he plays with the phrases with decisiveness - once he arrives with the beat, the direction is clear, he wouldn't pull the rug from below you. I would be happy to throw this one into my sets, with premeditation.

In La viruta, Bandonegro turns its focus fully on the milongueros. The instrumental flows regularly with the normal walking beat, with a lot of "yum" accents, and the arrangement is clever without crossing over into the unintelligible. There's a lot of tension, much more than, say, in the Biagi's version from 1948, and that tension is only resolved in the last possible moment. An instant favorite.

I don't know what possesses so many bands to record Este es el rey, an iconic D'Arienzo tune written for him by Carlos Ángel Lázzari and originally recorded in 1971. I have in my library six covers from the last decade, and there's gotta be many more I don't. That recording is borderline insane and it is nearly impossible to go even further without remaking it as a parody. And it's character is so clearly defined that if turn the insanity volume down, the result is rather meh. It just won't work as a laid-back walker.

Bandonegro know that, and they follow in D'Arienzo footsteps. On the hand hand, they nailed the drama, the tension, the explosiveness - it's all there as well as the heart-tugging violin playing counter-point. On the other hand, it's still a quartet, and I feel that size matters, here. For me, this tune needs a bigger ensemble - but why don't I contradict myself instantly and admit that I love the interpretation by Tango Bardo, a trio (can you count to four? - ed.) But hey, those guys are even more insane than D'Arienzo himself.

I rarely play Este es el rey for dancers, but it can kill if you get the moment right. I remember one crazy night in Belgrade in 2016 when I danced to it with a lovely Serbian lady, thinking in each moment that we would plow through the ronda like a double bulldozer, and miraculously enough, we haven't hit anyone.

Más grande que nunca is another instrumental by Carlos Lazzari & Enrique Alessio, recorded only once by D'Arienzo in 1958. I confess I haven't heard the original until today. For what it's worth, it's a fairly straightforward walker with plenty of energy and drive and is still sane.

It pleases me every time I hear a relatively lesser known tune brought back to life in recent years, and I give Bandonegro a lot of credit for this one. I think they captured the essence of the song with precision: it's swift, relentlessly driven, and should please the milonguero who needs to punish the floor and enjoy some hard beats.

In Remembranza, Andres Martorell returns after a cigarette break to re-tell this very compelling story once again. I was surprised to find this song suits the quartet so well, expecting myself to yearn for a fuller orchestral sound. It captivated me for the full four minutes nineteen seconds it lasted, which is another suprise - 4:19 would normally stretch my patience to its limits. Then again, I only danced in my head, so to speak, and so I wonder how it would work in a milonga. I intend to try some day.

And here, my friends, I conclude my review, prematurely and hesitantly but conclude it I must. The rest of the album has beautiful music made for listening, starting with Malena - here my surprise was most painful as this song was decisively intended for dancing but not here, and continuing with various covers of Piazzolla and Salgán, in which I did not expect any nourishment for my feet and didn't.

I encourage you to pick up where I left off and listen to the rest of the album on Spotify or wherever you can. The musicians shine in each phrase and have moved me, musically. Just not my body.

In closing

There is only so much fame and money that musicians can make off the milongueros, and pretty much nothing since the early 2020. The albums are perhaps the only way for them to stay in contact with their audience now, although I fear that direct album sales make for lunch money, maybe, with the streaming services having taken over.

Looking through that lens, I can hardly blame any band that turns away from the empty dance halls and tries to find a new audience, and I clap extra hard when they don't. Is Bandonegro such a case, though? No - their first and third albums were Piazzolla covers, and so they are being what they've been all along. It's just that my prior perspective was molded by their milonguero album Tanchestron, which is why I am the one who is re-adjusting.

One day the dance halls will fill up again and I am optimistic that Bandonegro will again play for us dancers with gusto just like I've seen them do in Görlitz. Until then, be sure to visit iTunes or Amazon or get the CD directly from them if you like what you've heard. Handing over hard cash for albums might be old-fashioned but is in my estimation still the best way to support our musicians.

I like my milongas sharp and crispy. Think Mozo guapo. Damn, I love this one so much I've had it as a ringtone on my phones for years.

It does not necessarily have to be as dramatic as that, mind you, but sharp - sharp is good. Helps me to keep up with the beat and build up the tension inside. Here's one that's very sharp and also cheerful, a blessed combination.

Other times, though, I like them relaxed and easygoing. And it is for these times that I have put together this tanda.

Structure

1) La milonga de B.A (Cuarteto Tafí c. Leonor Harispe, 2013)

2) De todas las cosas (Piraña c. Romina Grosso, 2019)

3) Se dice de mí (Tango de Minas c. Ursula Cuesta, 2018)

As you can see right away, there are two milongas that are very well know, while the middle one sticks out as an original. Together, though, they share a common theme - I close my eyes and imagine I am in some small Argentine town, gathered around a fire while the local musicians are playing for an audience that is progressively drunker and drunker.

Usage

I can certainly imagine whatever I please but would this work for dancing?

La milonga de B.A by Cuarteto Tafí starts with a laugh but is tight, compact, and relentlessly driven. Cuarteto Tafí is my current obsession, even as they don't generally play tangos at all, and I spend inordinate amounts of time trying to put them in my progressive mixes and as you can see, I did it again here.

De todas las cosas emphasize good mood and turn down the drive. The beat is regular and not nearly as demanding. The dancers will have a chance to catch a breath and have some uncomplicated fun.

I admit that the transition from the second to the final song is problematic as Se dice de mí starts with an intro. I don't like slow intros anywhere besides the very first track in a tanda, or if there's no other way, then in every song within the tanda. Also, while the first and second track have guitars as the defining element, the last one doesn't.

What might hold this together as a somewhat cohesive tanda would for me be the overall character of the songs. They are all throwing jokes around, especially the first and last. The instruments used (guitars in the first two, the percussion in the third) are evocative of the "outdoor gathering / pub" atmosphere. Not yet sure how to put it in words, so bear with me.

Se dice de mí is pretty wild in terms of the rhythmical flow, with all the rubatos inside, so I think it could only ever work as the last one in a tanda. The leader will pay a tax by having to break suddenly to keep up with the phrasing changes but I think the fun inside is worth it.

Overall, I would play this on my progressive events without worrying too much about it. Maybe not as the first milonga tanda, but second or later, why not? I would not play it on more traditional milongas at all. Not worth the lynching thereafter 🤣 Then again, I don't see myself DJing pure 1930s-1940s anytime soon.

image credit goes to Andrey Zvyagintsev

I have used their music in my progressive mixes, and it generates mostly positive and very melodic vibes. Having revisited their Bandcamp home, I realized it was missing in my library and promptly purchased it. It sat in my Inbox a month or so, and now is the time to look at it.

This won't be a proper review as I feel I am not yet ready to say anything final on the subject. Mostly impressions and gut feeling. As I wrote in my notes to the album Acostumbrarse no es bueno by Lilí Gradés, I need to get to know a lot more post-2010 neo-tangos to build the proper context.

The music in detail

First of all, I am not convinced I should box this into the "Neo-Tango" category at all. The instrumentation is acoustic as far as I can tell. I will only do so to take a shortcut, and also because the music clearly comes from a different background than contemporary tango does, stylistically, melodically, rhythmically, etc.

There is a remarkable consistency to the overall sound of the album, perhaps thanks to the fact that all the music was composed and arranged by the bandleader, Martín Delgado. Or is it because it was produced by Acho Estol (of the "La Chicana" fame), as the album description says, and he molded it to his unique form? I don't know.

This consistency does not imply that the songs sound the same. Not at all. If there's one aspect I really like about this band, it's how they work with melody. Most of the tracks are pleasant, some cheerful, others a bit weird (weird as in Austin, not as in "creepy"). All will please your ears with opinionated, non-trivial melodies.

Will they also please your feet? I haven't tested them yet apart from my progressive mixes, which have been produced amids the COVID tango shutdown and not yet verified on dancers.

The tempos don't suggest that a traditionalist milonguero would find himself right at home here. The opening Larvario, for instance, is a sort-of vals but with BPMs around 45. It has a certain circus feeling to it, with the glokenspiel and fliscornio (some kind of a trumpet) joining in. Me personally, I like valses above 60 BPM and preferrably 65+ but I can imagine a more open-minded dancer will be quite happy with this otherwise memorable and melodic vals. Plus it only runs for 2:22 - doable.

I didn't quite get into the right mood with Cerdos. Featuring heavy beats and lots of electric guitar, it evoked a "rock" feeling in me, and I find it antithetical to tango. If I listen to it as a rock song with no ambitions to dance to it, though, I can enjoy it just fine.

Buitres is a pleasant melodic chill-out (one of the most overused terms I use in my DJ comments to the tracks I have), flowing at almost 40 BPM and telling a compelling story. At 4:48 it's quite long, and so I'd be careful when considering whether to drop it into the set or not. I can see its potential, though.

Gato moves the needle up to ~ 42 BPM, and is a charming slow walker with a perfect length of 2:21. I felt that when dancing I'd have to alternate between the normal and double tempo, and this is true to many other tracks not just on this album - given a normal walking beat of 60 BPM, doing 40 consistently would be tiresome but the music does not really suggest the double tempo overall (like a slower milonga at 84 BPM would), and so you have to be on a lookout a phrase that allows for it and apply it from time to time.

Gallo drops the tempo too low to lay any claim on danceability. A rather long, melodic, and mostly static song, it's only there to please your ears.

Perhaps the most "weird" (in a good way) is Amores Perros, a 5+ min. long song with a very circus feel to it (a recurring theme here) with all the wind instruments joining in. I found it at times comical, at times engaging, and often somehow reminiscent of the Balkans - not yet sure why. Again, at five minutes I wonder if it's too much for dancing? The tempo is at ~ 51 BPM, so quite slow, and long and slow don't work so well together on the dance floor. That said, it's a lot of fun with just your headphones on, sitting in a chair.

Leona is a beautiful canción. I loved the interplay of the cello, violin, and the singer here. It flows at nearly the normal walking beat (~ 55 BPM), and yet somehow I don't feel the dancing drive to be present. It's all very rounded, smooth, without regular accents giving guidance to the leader. I think I'll keep this one for listening only.

I found Hiena to be lively and engaging, despite its nominal tempo of ~ 50 BPM. Putting in some double tempo with your feet won't be much of a challenge. There's a lot going on here, and it's one of the highlights of this album for me. Also its length of 3:34 is just about right. I will use this someday.

Finally, Mi Zorro. Being the only track that flows at the normal walking beat (~ 62 BPM), it could be most readily adopted by dancers less used to "nuevo" milongas. The theme is catchy and as the band elaborates on it, there are plenty notes flying around, with some phrases thereby suggesting double tempo. Again, a lot going on here.

Final thoughts

I have enjoyed this album without reservations, perhaps because I did not expect to be served a menu of straight-to-the-dancefloor courses. For consumption with your headphones in a sitting position, it's a wonderful selection of music that defies easy characterization but is always melodic and pleasurable.

The band's singer, Laura Cardini, is a joy to listen to: charming and soft but with depth.

There's a couple of tracks that I would like to use in my upcoming mixes and in live events once tango returns and I can organize and DJ again. I would consider Buitres, Gato, Hiena, and Mi Zorro.

If you like it, too, make sure to head over to Bandcamp and support the band by purchasing their music. I purchase all the music I review, and link to Bandcamp rather than Spotify whenever I can. The artists needs us now more than ever.

What were the 1950s and 1960s in Argentina like? I would very much like to know. The music reached phenomenal levels of expression but like everything else, it came with trade-offs: gone was the uncomplicated appeal to the casual dancing audience. If there was a dancing audience to speak of at all.

A prime example of what I'm talking about is late Troilo, whose discovery I owe to DJ Warren Edwardes, who coined the term "Silken Age" of tango for the music of this period.

I can only imagine that what Aníbal Troilo recorded with Roberto Rufino in 1960s was either for export or for their domestic sitting audience. Whatever their intent was, however, does not limit our options. We can still dance.

Structure

• Frente al mar (1963, D major)
• Ninguna (1963, B major / B minor)
• Siga el corso (1965, G major)
• Qué falta que me hacés! (1964, D minor)

Before listening to this, you might be tempted to think it will be a heavy if not depressing experience. Far from it. The opener, Frente al mar, is celebratory and uplifting. Ninguna switches between major and minor of B, Siga el corso comes in G major, and only the closer, Qué falta que me hacés!, drops decidedly into the minor key of D. Overall, I like the harmonic progression a lot.

What makes this a thick and nutricious beef broth is the orchestral instrumentation, the singer, who towers above it, and the overall phrasing, which departs from the Golden Age predictability and favors change. That's the tax the leader will have to pay on the dance floor. There's no way around it: one must pay attention constantly.

Usage

I played several variations of this tanda towards the end of the milonga.

Like any other music of this type and much of the music from this period, it's best consumed by the practiced dancer who has accrued and then spent a lot of energy during the evening, has come to an increased sense of intimacy with one or more partners, and will thus be ready to take the deep dive here.

It might even work great as the last tanda but I love to end with the Cumparsita no matter what.

cover photo credit to Silas Baisch

I kept tandas to 3s even though I usually play foursomes. Bear in mind that this is a playlist for home use. If you happen to dance to it, I think the 3-piece tandas will give you a better sense of variety, since you won't waste the first song looking for a partner - he or she is right there with you! 😂

You need to be on Spotify to enjoy my mixes. Unfortunately, there's no other way that would not severely limit my choice of bands and orchestras. Even there, some of my beloved bands are missing, e.g. Roulotte Tango.

Tracklist

Porteñísimo * Orquesta Típica Sans Souci (2020)
El pollito * London Tango Orchestra (2016)
Buscándote * Solo Tango Orquesta (2020)

Quiero verte una vez más * Los Herederos del Compás, Pablo Ramos (2018)
Adiós, Chantecler * Orquesta Villa Crespo, Ariel Varnerin (2018)
Ríe, payaso * Sexteto Cristal, Guillermo Rozenthuler (2019)

Loca de amor * Quinteto Ángel (2020)
Olga * Cuarteto Rotterdam (2018)
Ilusión marina * Quarteto Sol Tango (2018)

Revuelto * San Telmo Lounge (2016)
Queremos Paz * Gotan Project (2001)
A Mi Viejo * Calavera Acid Tango (2018)

Arrabalera * Tango de Minas, Ursula Cuesta (2018)
Tu Cuarto de Hora * China Cruel (2016)
Buenos Aires de mi Vida * Conjunto Berretin / Risa Rank (2004)

El barrio del tambor * Orquesta Silbando (2015)
Reliquias porteñas * Tango Spleen Orquesta (2018)
De vuelta y media * Quinteto Ángel (2020)

Qué me van a hablar de amor | Hablame de amor * Tango Bardo, Osvaldo Peredo (2018)
El bulín de la calle Ayacucho * Tango Bardo, Osvaldo Peredo (2018)
Confidencias * Tango Bardo, Osvaldo Peredo (2021)

Pavadita * Sexteto Fantasma (2019)
Orgullo criollo * Thito Amantte (2019)
El chamuyo * Colectivo Tango Esquinas (2018)

Mujeres * Solo Tango Orquesta (2020)
Pobre gallo bataraz * Quinteto Ángel (2020)
Vals de invierno * Solo Tango Orquesta (2017)

Canto libre * Cuarteto Tafí, Lëila Martial (2018)
El canto del sur * Cuarteto Tafí, Lëila Martial (2021)
Claro de rio * Cuarteto Tafí, Lëila Martial (2018)

Poema * Otros Aires (2013)
I've Seen That Face Before * Otros Aires (2016)
Digital Ego * Otros Aires (2016)

Ella es así * Orquesta Típica Andariega (2019)
Balliamo * Orquesta Típica Andariega (2014)
Jamás retornarás * Orquesta Típica Andariega, Fabián Villalón (2014)

Si yo pudiera comprender * Orquesta Típica Sans Souci, Emiliano Castignola (2020)
Ausencia * Orquesta Típica Sans Souci, Walther "Chino" Laborde (2020)
Lluvia de abril * Orquesta Típica Sans Souci, César Peduzzi (2020)

Tigre viejo * Tango Bardo (2017)
Mi dolor * Tango Bardo (2017)
El recodo * Tango Bardo (2021)

Que Nedia Sepa Mi Sufrir * Orquesta Silbando, Sebastián Rossi (2015)
Romance de barrio * London Tango Orchestra, Guillermo Rozenthuler (2016)
Luna de plata * Orquesta Típica Sans Souci, César Peduzzi (2020)

Junto a tu corazón * El Cachivache Quinteto (2020)
Qué falta que me hacés! * El Cachivache Quinteto (2016)
Marión * El Cachivache Quinteto (2020)

Remembranza * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera, Roberto Minondi (2020)
Magdala * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera, Roberto Minondi (2020)
Hasta siempre amor * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera, Roberto Minondi (2020)

Mi vieja linda * Sexteto Cristal, Guillermo Rozenthuler (2018)
Flor de Montserrat | Pobre negrito * Sexteto Cristal, Guillermo Rozenthuler (2018)
La vida es una milonga * Sexteto Cristal, Guillermo Rozenthuler (2019)

Merceditas * Solo Tango Orquesta (2020)
Igual que un bandoneón * Quarteto Sol Tango (2018)
Solamente ella * The Alex Krebs Tango Sextet (2011)

photo © author

The plan

More bandoneóns, more violins, more violins, more soundwaves. I want a full orchestral sound that Mr. Caló deserves. The tempos should not dip below the normal walking beat (60 BPM). I've got some beautiful Trenzas at 55 BPM that I will leave aside today.

Structure

Opening the tanda is Collectif Roulotte Tango canta Gaspar Pocai with Qué falta que me hacés. Recorded in 2012 for their album Muñeca mecánica, it's a majestic take that rivals Caló/Podestá classic from 1963. Unfortunately, Roulotte is neither on Spotify nor on Youtube (not that I blame them), and the video below is a live performance.

Sexteto Cristal plays in a noble, restrained fashion that lends itself nicely to Caló's song, recorded originally with Podestá. Their version of Dos fracasos calms down the mood one notch. I wanted to take a step back to give the dancers a chance to digest the opener.

Orquesta Típica Sans Souci is represented with Si yo pudiera comprender, originally recorded by Caló with Iriarte. It continues in the mood of the previous track, a shade or two darker.

Now, I don't know if you're going to hate me for it, but I decided to end on a positive note. There's been enough suffering in this tanda if you ask me. Romantica Milonguera likes to put a smile on your face, and they will do it here with Roberto Minondi singing Rebeldía.

Usage

Anywhere a nice romantic tanda would be applicable. If I needed a dramatic ending instead, I would swap Rebeldía for Trenzas, which would send me looking for something else to replace Si yo pudiera comprender so that Sans Souci would only be represented once. I quite like La vi llegar by Orquesta típica Villa Urquiza, perhaps I would use that for the #3 spot.

image credit goes to engin akyurt

Initially, it appeared under my radar on Facebook as it was being shared in the German-speaking tango community. Having previously purchased their 2014 album 5 Al Tango, I went on a hunt to get this CD as well. After all, the band appears in my sets with consistency, and so I was expecting a fresh batch of dancing delights.

A delight this album is without a doubt. One must accept, however, that it was recorded in August 2020 when the dance floors have long emptied out due to the COVID interregnum. Whether that had any impact on the band's choice of songs and arrangement, I do not know. Either way, we have here a mix of tangos, two valses, and several "tango nuevos" in the tradition of of Horacio Salgán and Astor Piazzolla.

A dedication to Piazzolla is contained in the CD booklet. It is not just the later-years Piazzolla the general public knows best but also arrangements from his "Típica" period, e.g. the track Villeguita that he recorded in 1948 when people were presumably still dancing in BsAs. A cover of that is a genuine rarity, unlike covers of Zum or Melancólico Buenos Aires that for some reason still fascinate modern-day tango musicians.

Before delving into the music in detail, I want to highlight the technical mastery of the Quinteto. I make no secret of my admiration towards German bands (e.g. Sexteto Cristal, another group from Hamburg that shares the bandoneonist Christian Gerber with the Quinteto) and can appreciate, as a former musician, the skill and hard work that went into recording this album. Their delivery is flawless.

The music in detail

I will talk about the music selectively, focusing only on the tracks that I could use for DJing later. This is not to subtract from the value the album offers as a whole. This blog is about music for dancing. A curious listener is encouraged to ignore my commentary and seek enjoyment in all the tracks according to taste.

A word of caution: with the single exception of Hotel Victoria, the arrangements go way beyond simplicity of straight dance music and would impress even a demanding listener of classical music. You'll hear plenty notes flowing in elaborate patterns and counter-patterns; harmonies that are often enriched to sound alien, as only Salgán and Piazzolla could do it, and rhythmical horseplay that puts the leader on his toes frequently.

With that disclaimer out of the way, let's go!

Pobre gallo bataraz is a genuine rarity. It's not the tango that D'Agostino recorded with Vargas but a fast vals. It was recorded in late 1970s by the singers Juárez and Goyeneche with their respective orchestras, however this interpretation bears little resemblance to either.

The booklet says the arrangement is Salgán's. I haven't found his recording of it in the web databases and presume he didn't (but then, who did he arrange it for?). I do find Salgán's signature present. No need to fear, however: the drive constant from beginning to end, and the melodic material is catchy if a little intellectual as one might expect.

Gran Hotel Victoria is by far the dancing peak of the album. While the arrangement is allegedly by Salgán again, it's remarkably playful and clear. The dancing couple will be propelled by delightfully sharp accents that come on the beat and as the tempo is close to the normal walking beat of 60 BPM, there'll be time to indulge in occasional footplay without hindering the ronda flow. I took enormous pleasure in the interplay of the instruments taking turns in leading and conversing with one another. Their virtuosity did not come at the expense of the dancer but for his or her benefit.

Having been one of the most frequently recorded songs, Hotel Victoria by the Quinteto still managed to seduce me, which is as strong testament about how good they are as there can be.

Tierra querida, a Julio de Caro tune immortalized by Pugliese in 1944. Interestingly, Piazzolla's típica recorded it, too, a few years later, and it's not too terrible - a bit straighter than Pugliese, and still rich in phrasing and expression; I bet that a normal dancer would never guess Piazzolla could sound like that.

I don't know to which influence would the Quinteto attribute its own arrangement. I like it a great deal: the playful staccatos, the heart-felt legatos, the interplay of instruments - and that its beat is mostly regular and predictable despite the phrasing which, with less discipline, would be so easy to overdo with massive rubatos.

Villeguita is Piazzolla's original he recorded in 1948 with his Típica. For whom, I wonder? It's temperamental, swift piece with dubious emotional appeal. Its saving grace might be in an occasional violin solo. And yet I'm not sure I'd be able to endure it as a dancer. I don't know how else to put it: the melodic payload is boring.

It would be fascinating to hear it re-imagined by a group of bleeding hearts such as Romantica Milonguera. The Quinteto is way more analytical and precise than them, of course, and so they give it the technical treatment. And listening to it right after the Piazzolla's original, I readily admit it's actually quite interesting and better than the source material.

Emilio Balarce's La bordona was recorded three times by Troilo, and each version is a massive orchestral affair. I prefer the first but love all of them, if mostly just for listening. I don't know how but the Quinteto managed to create a comparably vast soundscape with a lot fewer musicians at hand than Troilo had available. It's a majestic tune, very slow at 45 BPM and perhaps only ever intended as a show piece but very tempting thanks to its beauty.

The vals Loca de amor, although reportedly also been inspired by Salgán's arrangement but not actively harmed by it nonetheless, is delightful and sharp. Yes, the harmonies are at times a bit weird and the final modulation from A to F sounds forced ("let's keep it simple", Salgán never said). What offsets it more than sufficiently are its excellent drive and "kick" that it loans to the dancer. The Quinteto is known for its love for valses, according to this interview, and it shows.

If Piazzolla and Salgán ever got drunk together (I can't definitely say they didn't) and, inebriated, decided what a cool idea would be to arrange a milonga together, it might've very well sounded like De vuelta y media. It is in my estimation the most "controversial" piece of the album when viewed from the prism of a milonguero. It is a milonga, yes: it has the underlying milonga beat, it goes forward at 106 BPM without stopping along the way. And yet, it is as foreign in character as it could get without migrating to another genre.

I don't know how to put it words so let's dance around it briefly. I think the ideal milonga has a simple, straightforward appeal. It could be "happy" or "sad" but never too "smart". Half of the leaders sit it out anyway, and the remaining half has its feet full of work keeping up with the tempo. No brain cells left to process complicated musical phrases, in my opinion.

De vuelta y media is anything but simple. I was once dressed down by an experienced milonguero for playing a Salgán tango tanda as a young (and arrogant) tango DJ years back. I don't know what he would do to me for this but doubt that I'd get out of there alive.

Take away the dancing criterion, however, and the milonga is remarkably fun to listen to. Really. Full of little surprises and delights for the attentive listener.

Mi refugio starts as a wonderfully straightforward walker but is not meant to be. First it dips from 60 BPM to some 45 thirty second in, then again even more at the two-minute mark. When I mentioned above how the band straightened out Tierra querida when compared to Pugliese, they went the other way here. The rubatos are pronounced and sustained, albeit in service of the musical material. If I were to include this piece in a tanda, and I would happily consider it, I would place it at the end. The rhythmical structure is demanding, and makes it therefore a "special" case as opposed to, say, Hotel Victoria, which in its simplicity could be played anytime.

The eponymous Alma, corazón y vida is the last song I will cover here. Salgán recorded this vals in 1955 with Roberto Goyeneche and Ángel Díaz. Here, the band is joined by another cellist and the two cellos take turns in supplanting the singers. I find the timbre of violoncello to be naturally suited for tango and wonder why it wasn't used in the classical era, and here we have two - twice the fun!

As a vals for dancers, it's a surprise gem, despite Salgán's arrangement throwing the occasional sticks under their feet. Even when there's a bunch of syncopes in the piano line, let's say, the other instruments bridge that, and I think most dancers should be able to follow with ease. They will be rewarded with a potent melodic material and a strong kick that will keep the ronda flowing.

The rest of the album

There are seven additional songs on the album that I won't analyze in detail. Most of them are Piazzolla covers and they are in my best estimation not intended for dancing, even though some of them might be somewhat conductive to it, e.g. Triunfal. You can stop reading now and listen to the rest of the album on Spotify (or better yet, buy yourself a copy!)

Piazzolla might be the reason we are again dancing tango today (well, not today, but a year ago and in a few months from now). He grew in the golden period and as people stopped dancing, took the tango legacy and made it his own. Thanks to him, it survived between 1960-2000 and could be revived as a dancing genre again. As a classical music composer, he should be highly regarded in the centuries to come.

He should also be forgotten by the dancing tango community - for the same reason. I suspect he was never quite at home among milongueros as even his Típica recordings are weird. Be it as it may, he parted ways with us shortly thereafter. Dancing to Piazzolla would be like courting your ex who's already given birth to two children she has with another man.

Salgán was a gifted if a bit too clever arranger and I assume that his Quinteto Real also had an important role in bridging the tango tradition to the future from the 1960 onward by playing tango to the listening audience. That said, this chapter is closed, too. I would be astounded if a Salgán revival band came to existence similar to how D'Arienzo or Di Sarli keep inspiring us.

That the band chose Piazzolla and Salgán is understandable. It's Piazzolla 100-year anniversary, and both him and Salgán are technically rewarding to musicians in ways that the simpleton D'Arienzo isn't. Which is why I suspect Mr. P won't be leaving us despite my urgent wishes.

In closing

The Quinteto did a remarkable balancing act with this album, delivering virtuoso performance worthy of Carnegie Hall while also giving us many tunes to be played in a dimly-lit dancing hall for us sweating milongueros.

Despite my disclaimers and philophizing above, I hold it in the highest regard, and thank the band for putting so my energy and work into this! The tango is indeed alive in Germany, and we shall soon return to milongas to make it a bodily experience again.

This tanda is built around a typical birthday vals, Lágrimas y sonrisas. As you might suspect, I couldn't contain myself, and sandwiched it between two contemporary instrumentals that are, and this would be difficult to overstate, best examples of what makes a great vals.

Structure

• Mujeres (Solo Tango Orquesta)
• Lágrimas y sonrisas (Sexteto Cristal)
• Vals de invierno (Solo Tango Orquesta)

Mujeres has a brief slow intro and opens with a relaxing, noble theme that has a celebratory character. The alternating motive is lyrical and features a fast piano arpeggio chordplay that is reminiscent of another you will hear in Lágrimas y sonrisas. The overall character is upbeat.

I chose Sexteto Cristal's version of Lágrimas y sonrisas, because the German band sounded to me the most compatible with Solo Tango. Since it's just an evergreen hit, one would typically place it either in the first or the final slot in the tanda. Its placement here is my nod to the expectations of birthday-vals dancers (assume it is being played for this purpose here). Although I don't refrain from delegating megahits to less featured spots if another, stronger purpose prevails.

While this could be a post-facto narrative, I do believe that Vals de invierno is a supremely well-executed vals that dwarfs many much-loved classics. Whenever I played it or danced to it when it appeared in another DJ's set, the atmosphere was electrifying. It's a crowd pleaser, very melancholic, yet sharp and relentlessly driven.

One might object saying that playing a darker vals after the birthday dance is kind of a downer. Perhaps. I don't think it's that dark, although a more upbeat mood would certainly not offend anyone. I would want to hope that the sheer lyrical power of Vals de invierno would render such objection moot on the actual dance floor.

Oh yes, and why didn't I include another vals by Solo Tangueros and make it an even more cohesive tanda? I would love that, honestly; their two originals are superb and I would sell my grandmother to slavery for a third one. Unfortunately, the two other valses from their album Nuestro (Vals Numero Uno and Vals No.2) sound more like concert music - they don't compel me to dance. I looked hard but didn't find another that would fit.

Usage

This vals tanda is agile and brisk. I don't see any constraints that would make it less suitable for any part of a typical milonga. Sure enough, you can bomb as a DJ with any tanda if you misread the room terribly. On the other hand, valses are loved by most milongueros (and especially milongueras!) and there aren't too many of them in the normal TTVTTM format, and so it's really hard to fuck it up unless you really hate the genre or your dancers 😂 🤣.

image credit Ari Goldstein

Much to my shame, I didn't even know they were still active until I came across their album Porteñísimo, released in November 2020 on Spotify. My ignorance can be partly justified by the fact that the tracks that I've had in my library to date come from their 2002 album Al mejor estilo del 40. I suppose I just assumed they were no longer in business. I always regret these quick and lazy assumptions later!

Eager to make up for my mistakes, I contacted the band over Facebook and inquired where I could buy the album. I learned that it was not yet on sale, however they graciously provided me with a complimentary copy that I used for this review. Later, I will be sure to exchange it for a CD once a purchase is possible. You, my dear reader, can meanwhile listen to it on Spotify (links below).

The music in detail

There are ten tracks on this album, four of these instrumentals. To prevent needless repetition, I will say once that all of the arrangements here are of high-fidelity with respect to the originals. They will make you feel like you got out of a time machine and listen to the Caló and Maderna bands perform live in the 1940s BsAs.

The instrumentals

Porteñísimo is the 2nd high-fidelity cover of Caló's classic I've had the fortune to encounter in the past month, the other having been recorded by Solo Tango Orquesta. Just like there it's very clean and technically superb, the only noticeable difference being in the tempos - Sans Souci starts at 64 BPM, then dips to ~ 58 in the alternating theme, enjoying its lyricism, and gradually inches back to about 62 BPM. Meanwhile the Soloists keep it very steady at 64 BPM throughout.

The next three instrumentals are covers of the work of Osmar Maderna.

Chiqué is crisp and very staccato, sounding thinner as a result. I enjoyed the precision of the musicians here, all coming nicely together on the beat. The arrangement, being true to Maderna, is somewhat intellectual and dry; I confess it did not move me very much emotionally. This is not Sans Souci's fault: this is how Maderna himself arranged it. If you are curious, I love the version recorded by Fulvio Salamanca in 1957.

Fantasía en tiempo de tango elaborates on theme of Monti's csárdás as recomposed by Maderna in 1946. The arrangement is virtuoso and there are plenty of notes flying around. The motive is very touching, however, and I think this song could work well as a swift walker, perhaps one to finish the tanda with the barrage of fast notes spraying the dance floor like bullets.

La cautiva has a positive, midtempo flow. It's a "comfort" song, meant to calm the ronda but not put it to sleep as the music moves forward at a steady pace of 65 BPM. You won't necessarily recall its motive after the tanda closes; it's not particularly memorable. What you would retain is a calm, relaxing feeling it induced. As is the case with all the other covers, the resemblance to Maderna's original is strikingly good.

The vocals

Three singers have each gotten two songs to go head to head with Raúl Iriarte, Mario Pomar, and Raúl Berón. How did they do?

Emiliano Castignola took on Raúl Iriarte with his re-imagination of Si yo pudiera comprender and Trenzas (listen here and here). I will admit to having a special preference towards Iriarte over the other Caló singers, including Berón; therefore had Castignola a steep hill to climb to win me over.

His timbre is lighter and sounds "younger", for the lack of better words; Iriarte evokes in me a picture of a 40-something man who had his heart broken many times, while in fact he was 28 when he recorded it; such is the confusion the old recordings are prone to spread.

He delivers Si yo pudiera comprender convincingly, being very precise and holding his expressions in check. He's just another member of the band here, exactly as it should be.

There are many compelling versions Trenzas, with that by Caló c. Iriarte being the relevant source here. My favorites come from the repertoire of Roulotte Tango and Andariega. Nevertheless, back to our business here: Castignola's delivery is again not as dark as Iriarte's, and as a result the overall mood is not as tragic as in the original. I liked that. There's enough pain and suffering in the classical repertoire that there's no need to always recreate it.

Moving on to Walther "Chino" Laborde, Remolino stands as the sole exception on this album as it doesn't come directly from the heritages of neither Caló nor Maderna. If my analysis is correct, however, the band is recreating the version by Francini-Pontier c. Raúl Berón as recorded in 1946. And as it happens, both of these gentlemen graduated in Miguel Caló's orchestra, and the so the lineage is actually unbroken here.

Given that few technically acceptable transfers of the Francini-Pontier orchestra are available on the market, it is especially pleasing to have a contemporary version thereof. The piece is entirely optimistic, celebratory, and I think that Walther Laborde is the right man for the job. I've heard him sing live in Belgrade with the Solo Tango Orquesta, and his performance was electrifying as it was full of life and joy.

Ausencia as recorded by Maderna c. Mario Pomar (a.k.a. Mario Corrales) in 1947 is likewise hard to get as an acceptable transfer. This version fills that gap. It is again a joyous, optimistic sound that will spread good vibes all over the ronda. If I could have made one wish were I the music director at the time of recording, I would have plead for more constrained vibratos - Laborde's are very wide and immediately noticeable. A matter of personal preference, to be sure.

I have included Luna de plata by Caló c. Iriarte only 5x in my sets to date, and I wonder why. It's a beautiful lyrical vals with just the right "kick" to it.

Sans Souci with the singer César Peduzzi kept all of it, only reducing the darkness by a few notches since Peduzzi, just like Castignola, sounds brighter and less melancholic than Iriarte. I was only a little tickled, here and there, when the violins didn't quite arrive there, intonation-wise; this is an instrument from hell in that regard, and I felt the piece needed a few more practice hours. I know they can do it, they are just fine on the other tracks!

Lluvia de abril has a special resonance for me, I couldn't hear enough of it back in 2014-2018 and played it many times. It's decidedly melancholic and Iriarte could co-create that mood like no other. And you know how it is with these "special songs": once you form a dependency on a particular interpretation, it's hard to let go when getting to know another.

I will therefore refrain from passing judgement here. The orchestra does an amazing job bringing Calo's arrangement into the 21st century, and you tell me how you like César Peduzzi in lieu of Raúl Iriarte instead! How about that?

In summary

When I reviewed the album Para Siempre by Pablo Valle Sexteto, I wondered about how much sense it makes to re-create the works of dead masters from 1940s today. The same question could poignantly be asked here, since that's exactly that Orquesta Típica Sans Souci is doing, down to Caló's quirky piano endings.

I have since come to accept that the conservation efforts help to keep the tango tradition alive just as much as any innovation. Plus, while you can get decent Caló transfers from TangoTunes, it's much harded to get your hands on a good Maderna album, not to mention Francini-Pontier.

More importantly, the fact that Sans Souci follows their influences with so much care means they are at home on the dance floor as everything they do can readily be consumed there with your embraces and feet. You won't need any warm-up, there are no tricks, rubatos, or difficult phrases - this is 1940s dance music recorded with the 21st century technology. And that is something I treasure very much.

But, we can at least tune in mentally. We can imagine things. And who else could guide us through this dream than the legedary dream-weaver Osvaldo Pugliese with his trusted singer, Alberto Morán.

Structure

• Cualquier cosa (1952, D-minor)
• Ahora no me conocés (1952, B-minor)
• Porque no te tengo más (1954, G-minor)
• Pasional (1952, C-minor)

This is a heavy affair, full of suspense and drama. As you relax in your chair and close your eyes, your headphones hugging your ears, you are transported to another dimension that no state-of-the-art VR system could emulate.

Alberto Morán is my second favorite Pugliese singer after Jorge Maciel. They were both equally skilled in theatrics and technically more than equipped to the task. The transfers I have come mostly from TangoTunes, especially this one that comes from vinyl. You'll appreciate the technical quality that comes out of it. The YouTube sources above are of unknown but resonably acceptable origin.

I like the harmonic progression here. It's rare that I get to choose and often must accept less than satisfactory key changes just because the orchestra, for example, tends to prefer a particular key (say, A-minor or major) over others.

Here we start with D-minor, go to B-minor (one third down), then to G-minor (another third down), which would be the dominant over C-minor where we finish. Please forgive my OCD here.

Usage

I danced to this within a private session, and man, was it demanding!

Pugliese can squeeze out the last drop of emotion in you, and requires that you go all in with your attention as a leader, and I suppose also as a follower.

Pasional goes way beyond what a normal ronda would be able to absorb before very late in the evening. I haven't heard it played for dancing, and I suspect one could argue that it too wavy and the accents so thundersome that the effort it takes to dance to it isn't define commensurate to the payoff. To each his own. I love it.

I reverted to tanda threesomes to speed up the flow. The first valses are an exception as there are only two (!) but both are very long.

Here is the first, second, and third edition. Next one's coming in ~ 2 weeks. Abrazos!

Tracklist

Una noche de garufa * Tango Bardo (2021)
Loca * Tango Bardo (2015)
Tierra negra * Tango Bardo (2017)

Mi dolor * Los Herederos del Compás, Pablo Ramos (2018)
De igual a igual * Los Herederos del Compás, Pablo Ramos (2018)
De puro curda * Los Herederos del Compás, Pablo Ramos (2018)

Somos de la tierra * Cuarteto Tafí, Lëila Martial (2020)
Una Noche Mas * Yasmin Levy (2007)

Gallo ciego * Colectivo Tango Esquinas (2018)
Tango con aguante * Sexteto Fantasma (2018)
Sabado ingles * Conjunto Berretin (2005)

Marión * Orquesta Típica Sans Souci / Walter Chino Laborde (2002)
Dos fracasos * Sexteto Cristal, Guillermo Rozenthuler (2019)
Qué te importa que te llore * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera, Roberto Minondi (2018)

Milonga de la torre * Los Milonguitas (2017)
Dotarpeando * Pablo Valle Sexteto (2017)
Flor amorosa * Tango Bardo (2021)

Siempre me quedará * Bebe (2005)
Fantasmas * Julieta Laso (2018)
El canto del sur * Cuarteto Tafí, Lëila Martial (2021)

Sin tu amor * Orquesta Típica Andariega (2017)
Creep * Orquesta Típica Andariega (2019)
Oigo tu voz * Orquesta Típica Andariega (2017)

Que Nedia Sepa Mi Sufrir * Orquesta Silbando, Sebastián Rossi (2015)
Vals del recuerdo * Sexteto Cristal, Guillermo Rozenthuler (2018)
La serenata del ayer * Orquesta El Arranque / Marcelo Barberis (1997)

Solamente ella * Tango Bardo, Osvaldo Peredo (2021)
Gólgota * Tango Bardo, Osvaldo Peredo (2021)
Ahora no me conocés * Tango Bardo, Osvaldo Peredo (2021)

Poema * Solo Tango Orquesta (2020)
Buscándote * Solo Tango Orquesta (2020)
Porteñísimo * Solo Tango Orquesta (2020)

Milonga en la 31 * Aureliano Tango Club (2010)
Amor Que Se Baila * Otros Aires (2005)
Baile a Beneficio * Otros Aires (2007)

Cristal * La Auténtica Milonguera / Marisol Martinez, Jesus Hidalgo (2020)
Tu angustia y mi dolor * La Auténtica Milonguera / Jesus Hidalgo (2020)
Tú, el cielo y tú * La Auténtica Milonguera / Marisol Martinez, Jesus Hidalgo (2020)

Yesterday * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera (2020)
And I love her * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera (2019)
For no one * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera (2019)

Lontano * Orquesta Típica Andariega, Fabián Villalón (2014)
Buonasera * Orquesta Típica Andariega, Fabián Villalón (2014)
Gira Gira * Orquesta Típica Andariega, Fabián Villalón (2014)

No importa * Roger Davidson (2014)
Azul y verde * Tango Spleen Orquesta (2018)
Sencillo * Orquesta típica Mala Pinta (2015)

Después * Orquesta Silbando, Sebastián Rossi (2018)
Paciencia * Orquesta Silbando, Sebastián Rossi (2015)
A mí no me hablen de tango * Orquesta Silbando, Sebastián Rossi (2018)

Milonga de la Puteada * Esteban Morgado Cuarteto (2007)
Que importa eso ahora!!! * Esteban Morgado Cuarteto (2007)
Futbolera * Esteban Morgado Cuarteto (2007)

Amor O Nada * Otros Aires (2016)
Todo Baila * Otros Aires (2016)
Like A Tango * Otros Aires (2016)

photo © author

For the record, I purchased everything they put out, even begged them over e-mail to sell me "Alma de loca", an album they did in collaboration with the singer Cucuza Castiello and that isn't on sale on Bandcamp. I love these guys, and so when I hit refresh on the newest tango releases page on Bandcamp that I monitor daily, trust me when I tell you I was excited.

Yes, Mugre is here.

The music in detail

There are ten tracks included, two of which I would put in the "tango-nuevo" genre (not immediately conductive to dancing) and one being probably a chacarera (La juguetona). Six are instrumentals.

Tango Bardo has already released an EP "Osvaldo Peredo con Tango Bardo" featuring four tracks where they accompany the singer Osvaldo Peredo, and we find additional four here.

Admittedly I didn't know before much about Osvaldo Peredo before. Having been born in 1930, the fact that he is still performing in 2020, when this album was recorded, is astonishing.

You can tell he's not a young man - his voice has a similar color to that of late Alberto Podestá. His intonation is precise, and what he may lack in raw masculine power of his younger contemporaries, he makes up with mature, practiced expression.

The instrumentals

The album opens with a phenomenal rendition of El recodo.

What a way to open! Tango Bardo is like Tesla Model S Plaid, going from 0 to 100 km/h in a blink of an eye. After the supercharged opening, you will find a slower section starting at about 1" mark, with enough lead-in time that should give the dancer time to adapt. He will be rewarded with an especially touching passage that eventually converts back to a frenzied rush.

Una noche de garufa has a slow intro, after which the band outcompetes Tanturi at his own game.

I don't say this lightly, I love Tanturi's take as much as anyone, and I played it 13x in 2019 alone. What Tango Bardo does so well is to make their accents and phrasing ridiculously sharp and pointed, going as close as possible to breaking the strings on the violin without actually doing so, and this takes the rhythmical potential of Una noche de garufa to its logical conclusion.

Then there is Flor amorosa.

Originally a song from Brazil, the band remade it into a swift milonga, and the remake is fabulous. The theme is cheerful, infectious, and the underlying milonga beat is ever-present - it begs you to jump on the dance floor with whomever is close by.

The vocals

I appreciated that while they are wild and borderline demonic when playing alone, Tango Bardo created a wide open space for Osvaldo Peredo to shine. In no way are these vocals a show-time for the singer alone like they often were in 1950s, though: the singer here is still part of the band.

Ahora no me conocés is swift and resolute, delivering on the motive's promise in a unique way. The band does not take many cues from the many classical renditions there are, be it Biagi's, D'Agostino's, or Pugliese's. The tempo is ~ 63BPM and stays the same throughout.

Confidencias is a phantastic tune, and I find it puzzling that it was recorded only once in 1959 by the singer Jorge Vidal. It might be the strongest vocal on the album, and a very warmly welcome addition due to its rarity. Definitely on the darker side, it's a supremely touching piece, moving slowly but steadily to its rather drained resolution.

Solamente ella has an unusually dissonant start, however its motive kicks in shortly. The tempos are slower, at around 57 BPM, and I belive Peredo's old voice is perfect for what the song is about. The longing for a woman long gone is here:

She came one afternoon and it was sad
phantom of silence and song,
she came from a world that does not exist.
Empty of hope the heart.

Finally, Gólgota. Similar in its drive to Ahora no me conocés, it is likewise resolute and firm. The canonical versions are from 1938 (Biagi, Lomuto) when this singer was 8 years old. I loved how hard he pronounced the last syllables of the lyrics in the final part to prepare us for the bold ending - you could almost imagine him stomping on the ground as he finishes.

The rest

As mentioned in the beginning, there are two tracks that I consider to be "Tango nuevo" in the sense they did not particularly move me to dance. As I only care about music for dancing, I'll mention them for completeness' sake alone.

Bordoneo y 900 starts like a tango, then develops into a milonga, switches back, then ends with a milonga again. The slow parts run at ~ 40 BPM.

Ave Maria is beautiful but also slow at 44 BPM, a classical concert piece in character.

La juguetona has a 3/4 beat and - I could be wrong but it does sound like a chacarera to me. Perhaps fun if you like to throw one into your sets; I don't.

Never mind my grumbling. This is not to dismiss these three tracks, only separate them from the danceable ones.

In closing

What a delight this album was! The tango drought is far from over, and so it's particularly heart-warming that the artists are still at work. Please support them with your dollars and euros and buy their music as I do. That's the best relief we can give to Buenos Aires now (other than donating extra), and in general the best way to support musicians in any time.

There's no particular plan here since I did not compose this live for the actual dancing audience. I would prefer to share playlists that I tested on humans but COVID prevents that. If you do dance to this, let me know how it went!

UPDATE: I had the wrong embed here before. Here it comes for real :)

I chose Spotify as the platform for these playlist since it's the most universally available. Some bands that I like to play are missing there: Collectif Roulotte Tango, Rascasuelos, Tángalo. Just saying.

If you'd like, here is the first and second edition. Next one's coming towards the end of the month. Abrazos!

Tracklist

• Luces de mi ciudad * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera (2020)
• Azul y verde * Tango Spleen Orquesta (2018)
• Marabú * Orquesta típica Mala Pinta (2015)
• If I fell * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera (2019)

• Junto a tu corazón | Hoy como ayer * Orquesta Típica Andariega / Walter Chino Laborde (2017)
• Al compás del corazón | Late un corazón * Orquesta Típica Andariega / Marisol Martinez (2019)
• No me hables * Orquesta Típica Andariega, Fabián Villalón (2014)
• Trenzas * Orquesta Típica Andariega / Marisol Martinez (2019)

• Romance de barrio * The Alex Krebs Tango Sextet (2011)
• Corazón de oro * Colectivo Tango Esquinas (2018)
• Palomita blanca * Mandrágora Tango (2009)

• La última noche * Lilí Gardés (2018)
• Esquina de Sol * San Telmo Lounge, Laura Cardini (2016)
• Cerrás los ojos * Aureliano Tango Club, Aureliano Marin (2010)
• Arrabal * Lilí Gardés (2018)

• El puntazo * Tango Bardo (2017)
• Loca * Los Herederos del Compás (2018)
• Yapeyú * Orquesta Silbando (2015)
• Este es el Rey * Tango Bardo (2015)

• La milonga de B.A * Cuarteto Tafí, Leonor Harispe (2013)
• Licenciado * China Cruel (2016)
• Se dice de mí * Tango de Minas, Ursula Cuesta (2018)

• Décollage * Calavera Acid Tango (2018)
• Tiempo en el aire * El Cachivache Quinteto (2020)
• Nostalgimanía * San Telmo Lounge (2016)
• Venceremos * Electrocutango (2011)

• Luciernaga * Ezequiel Uhart Quinteto / Ariel Brukman (2015)
• Pucherito de gallina * Sexteto Fantasma / Cacho Castaña, Rodrigo Perelsztein (2014)
• Tibieza * Tango Bardo, Cucuza Castiello (2018)
• Esa estrella era mi lujo * Orquesta típica La vidú / Facundo Radiche (2013)

• Lucky Waltz * Orquesta típica Mala Pinta (2015)
• Flor del Sena * Los Milonguitas (2019)
• Vals De Invierno * Solo Tango Orquesta (2017)

• Gólgota * Tango Bardo, Osvaldo Peredo (2021)
• Alma de loca * Tango Bardo, Cucuza Castiello (2018)
• Rebeldía * El Muro Tango, Juan Villareal (2018)
• Ahora no me conocés * Tango Bardo, Osvaldo Peredo (2021)

• The Perfect Tango * Otros Aires (2016)
• Barrio de amor * Otros Aires (2010)
• Bailando Sin Paraíso * Otros Aires (2016)
• Perro Viejo * Otros Aires (2016)

• Ella es así * Cuarteto Tanguero (2018)
• Milonga de mis amores * Cuarteto Rotterdam (2018)
• La vida es una milonga * Quarteto Sol Tango (2018)

• El último café * La Auténtica Milonguera / Marisol Martinez (2020)
• Cada vez que me recuerdes * La Auténtica Milonguera / Marisol Martinez (2020)
• El abrojito * La Auténtica Milonguera / Marisol Martinez (2020)
• Tú * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera, Marisol Martinez (2017)

photo © author

I was led to believe that the genre itself has disappeared, judging by how we used to love Gotan at the time when I joined the scene in 2011 and how rarely I've head it played since.

The other, more plausible explanation would be that I largely ignored the genre and stayed in the classical lane between 2012-2018, both as a dancer and a DJ.

Nowadays, as I experiment on a much larger and variegated canvas, I have a lot of catching up to do. And so this review represents that, as an entry in my diary, lacking in much-needed context but hopefully still useful.

The artist is Lilí Gardés and the album Acostumbrarse no es bueno, published in 2018 and available on Bandcamp as well as on the streaming platforms.

Preamble

First, how I approached this review - the same as I approach any other album with music I would potentially want to play at my milongas. I am interested in music that can inspire standard tango figures, regardless of style (milonguero, nuevo).

This is easiest with the Golden Age recordings, when this genre was defined, for better or worse. Many but not all contemporary bands also pass this bar, depending on how eager they are to please the milongueros. As long as they keep the tempos in the reasonable walking-beat range, don't overdo it with rubatos, aim at 2.30 - 3.30 minutes per song, it's not a high bar to clear.

With neo-tango and non-tango music, however, this is not an obvious task at all. Unburdened with the tango tradition, they often have phrases structured in the 4/4 beat and no matter how you slice the music, you often don't get the same walking tempo you need for the normal tango movements.

Bear this in mind if you see me contemplating the BPMs later on.

I also think that certain beat patterns, accents, phrasing is more conductive to tango movements than others. We don't just jump up and down and wiggle our asses repetitively; there's as much need for the "empty space" (silence) in a tango phrases as there is for notes (sounds). This could be further analyzed and demonstrated with sheet music examples etc. but I am not writing my PhD thesis here and nobody would read it anyway: suffice to say, I'll stick to giving examples that you can evaluate yourself by listening or dancing.

It's not obvious that you can or should be able to find these beat patterns in non-tango music, and as far as I am concerned, they are not reliably present in the neo-tango genre either. The former was not composed for the tango dancer at all, and the latter, even as it claims as stake in the tradition, ends up fighting it instead.

With these caveats out of the way, let's approach this album and find out what it has in store for us progressive milongueros.

Lilí Gardés is, first and foremost, a wonderful singer. The color of her voice is pleasant and smooth, her intonation confident.

Looking at the booklet, I see that all the arrangements come from the band member Osi Tejerina, and you do get a sense of consistency throughout the album. The arrangements are non-trivial, rich and varied. Each song has a distinct idea, and unlike many neo-tango tunes I've heard, the band does not just repeat it all over but develops it in the standard song form (theme/chorus).

Simply said, this is a well-produced album of pop music that has bandoneón in it and the question is, what's its dancing potential?

How I judge the danceability

Let's have a look at the tempos. Of the 11 tracks, 9 have tempos in the range of 50-64 BPM, the other two are at 45 BPM.

The caveat is that I'm counting as if the songs were phrased in the 2/4 tango beat, but they are more likely phrased in the 4/4 beat, and then end up with 120 BPM and 90 BPM respectively.

You can just do half-tempo and 120 BPM becomes a comfortable walking beat. However, 45 BPM is too slow for tango and 90 BPM is too fast (milonga territory).

How should the dancer decide what tempo to adopt? Usually, the bass instruments suggest it. Here, it's percussion instead. When you hear the same beat one after another, that becomes the temporal baseline.

For example, in Tormento, a neo-tango / pop arrangement of a tango song first recorded in 1934 by Canaro, the beat is monotonous with no emphasis on the 1st and 3rd note in the bar, and so the dancer would conclude the tempo is 90 BPM and not 45 BPM.

As a contrary example, consider No pidas perdón. While the percussion is likewise quite monotonous and all beats are created equal (most of the time), there are passages where you'll hear the accents on the 1st and 3rd beat, provided by either synths or the bandoneón, and so the dancer can settle on the swift but comfortable 64 BPM tempo.

I spend so much time discussing the tempos not just to satisfy my OCD: try dancing a vals on a recording that's far too away from the normal walking beat (try it!) and tell me it how it felt.

Besides that, what else did I look for?

In no particular order:

• song length - the typical tango song has between 2.30" and 3.30" and all the songs on this album comply
• regularity - dancers don't respond well to frequent change in tempos, and there are very few here overall
• "punch" - a song should lift you up from your seat and prompt you to move, and since this is pop music, it certainly has this power

The question is, when the music moves you dance, what kind of moves does it inspire you to make? And so that leaves the elephant in the room, which I've already hinted on several times, and that's the overall character of the music. It is certainly not tango. It's pop, with bandoneón. It does not inherit from the tango phrasing, musicality, or temperament. This is true to most of neo-tango music and that's where I as a progressive but still tradition-minded DJ struggle, as you can see.

Let's agree on a compromise: either you are more traditional than me, and want the music to spring directly from the tango tradition, and then perhaps this album won't prompt you to dance at all, or you are more progressive than me and are wondering why I am performing this mental torture upon myself, because of course one can dance tango moves to anything! That way we leave the decision on how danceable this is to you, and we can finally move on to the music itself, 1200 words after getting started.

The songs in detail

There are eleven tracks on the album, and I liked all of them. The quality is remarkably even throughout. If anything, I liked the music more and more as I listened to it, with my favorites being the last two: Quién será, and La última noche.

The first two tracks, Arrabal and Desde el balcón, are swift and catchy, with the former being more optimistic - but regardless of tonality (major vs minor), the mood is quite similar. You're probably going to choose the half-tempo to be at the comfortable 60 BPM but the phrasing is going to urge you to catch up and speed up when you can.

Acostumbrarse no es bueno is one of two tracks that you won't fit into the normal walking beat; either you do 45 BPM or 90 BPM. It's a pity, because musically speaking the theme is likeable, even catchy, and so perhaps you can try dancing it as a slower milonga?

No pidas perdón is more straightforward: swift but easily manageable at 64 BPM, wit the phrasing and accents helping this interpretation of the tempo. It will drive you from start to end with no noticeable dips or peaks, and it's mostly optimistic or at least uncomplicated as any other good pop song.

Ay corazón makes you choose between 50 and 100 BPM for making your steps, and especially the phrasing of the chorus suggests the former, which would make this a somewhat slower walker. This is no chill-out piece, however, it's quite urgent and driven.

I can't find much to say about Quiero oír tu voz; it's energetic, you can move to it on the normal walking beat but the phrasing will push you to the double tempo. and other than that... It didn't stick to me as much.

Abrazame y bailemos happens to be the only chill-out piece on the album, instilling quiet, introspective mood while keeping a steady beat. I reckon the dancers will choose to keep a comfy walking beat of 57 BPM and occasionally drop to half-tempo to enjoy slow rotating movements.

Todo se vuelve a repetir is nominally on the same BPM, but the agile, busy drums will move dancers to switch to double-tempo instead. I found the melody captivating and memorable. The song has a constant drive throughout with just one passage where you can relax.

I mentioned Tormento above in the section about tempos. It's funny how the motive composed by Charlo in 1930s could be remade into a contemporary pop song (this is the version with Charlo singing and you'll notice that unlike Galán, he's pretty liberal with the rubatos and that's why you won't hear Charlo much at milongas). While I liked the pop re-rendering of the tune, I was left wondering what to dance to it - the up-and-down directions suggested by the drum line distracted me and while the tempo would be suitable for a slow milonga, there are no milonga patterns to latch onto.

Quién será is my favorite, a slower, nostalgic piece that has somewhat more energy than Abrazame y bailemos but could also be danced to in a relaxed, chilled-out manner. I found the musical phrasing to be very conductive to slower tango figures.

Finally, La última noche. Another favorite as I found myself humming along its theme when walking my dog. It's quite sticky. I felt this would perform well as a midtempo melodic walker.

Summary

There is much to like about this album, regardless of whether you'd want to dance to it or not. It's pleasant to just listen to, and I found several tracks to have the potential for my progressive tango events, hopefully resuming again this year once we can meet in public spaces again without a rug on one's face.

My dancefloor candidates are Abrazame y bailemos, Quién será, and La última noche. I would most likely mix them with other bands within a tanda for variety.

Whether or not this musical genre represents the future of tango is an open question. I am personally much conflicted when trying to come up with an opinion as you might have guessed. Thankfully, it's not up to me but up to the musicians and dancers themselves. We live in a very different era than the people living in BsAs in 1930s and 40s and the music reflects that. It must.

Out of this evening came a seedling of a playlist that I worked around to create this mix.

It is an experiment in that I purposefully wanted to make this a true mix and create tandas where each band plays only one song. This breaks the well-founded expectations, even more so when I still follow the TTVTTM format. But hey, every tune here was recorded in this century. I felt that this exercise was needed for me as I try to develop my approach for the glorious time when we return to the dance floor en masse.

This was partially tested on humans. That said, while I wish you could dance to this, I expect that quite of a few of you won't have the opportunity. For now.

Tracklist

Para siempre * Pablo Valle Sexteto (2017)
Avanti * Orquesta Típica Andariega (2019)
Midnight, the stars and you * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera (2020)

Paciencia * Los Herederos del Compás, Pablo Ramos (2018)
Remembranza | Remembranzas * Orquesta Villa Crespo, Ariel Varnerin (2018)
El Tarta * Orquesta Silbando, Sebastián Rossi (2015)

Que nadie sepa mi sufrir * Tango Spleen Orquesta, Mariano Speranza (2018)
Lontano * Orquesta Típica Andariega, Fabián Villalón (2014)
Musa * Quinteto Ángel / Sergio Gobi (2014)

The Perfect Tango * Otros Aires (2016)
Sueños de Ayer * San Telmo Lounge, Laura Cardini (2016)
Tango de no amor feat. Julio Coviello * Tangótico / Alfredo Piro (2020)

La madrugada * La Auténtica Milonguera / Jesus Hidalgo (2020)
Un giorno ti dirò * Orquesta Típica Andariega / Marisol Martinez (2019)
Rebeldía * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera, Roberto Minondi (2019)

Fechoría * Cuarteto Rotterdam (2018)
La milonga que hacia falta * Sexteto Cristal (2019)
Corralera * Orquesta Típica Misteriosa Buenos Aires (2018)

Malena * London Tango Orchestra, Guillermo Rozenthuler (2016)
La vi llegar * Orquesta típica Villa Urquiza, Martín Prestía (2016)
Todo es amor * Tango Spleen Orquesta, Mariano Speranza (2018)

Venceremos * Electrocutango (2011)
Tiempo en el aire * El Cachivache Quinteto (2020)
Englishman In New York * Tanghetto (2008)

CB Vals * Conjunto Berretin / Joe Powers (2005)
Noche de estrellas * Sexteto Fantasma / Rodrigo Perelsztein (2019)
J'ai tant escamote * Zaz (2013)

Buscándote * El Cachivache Quinteto (2016)
Danzarín * Sexteto Fantasma (2014)
Felicia * Colectivo Tango Esquinas (2018)

El choclo * Tango de Minas, Ursula Cuesta (2018)
Garufa * Conjunto Berretin / Joe Powers (2004)
Amurado * Thito Amantte, Juan Carlos Vivas (2019)

Milonga sentimental * Otros Aires (2005)
Milomba * Orquesta Típica Andariega, Fabián Villalón (2014)
Siga el baile * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera, Roberto Minondi, Hache de Huilen (2019)

Qué me van a hablar de amor | Hablame de amor * Tango Bardo, Osvaldo Peredo (2018)
Duerme * Cañon, Julio Coviello (2017)
Corsos * Amores Tangos / Cucuza Castiello, Limón García (2017)

photo © author

This blog is first and foremost concerned with the former. A collector, however, will encounter, and perhaps cherish, albums with sung tangos that were not dedicated to the dancer.

A brief demonstration of the difference: here is El tango de la mula with Canaro and Famá, recorded in 1934, once as a dance piece and then again as a canción. You will notice that the former has a regular tempo suitable for dancing while the other features plenty of rubatos and the singer is way more prominent.

Arguably a third tradition might be the concert tango, nowadays firmly associated with its founder Astor Piazzolla. As it happens, I came to tango via Piazolla, by listening to the Yo Yo Ma album featuring Piazolla covers in 1999. But that tradition no longer interests me.

It is this album that I have on my desk today, figuratively speaking as it's just a collection of FLAC files on my hard drive, that works out all three traditions in nine tracks: Non Típicas by Tango de Minas.

Before I begin, and also because I don't have all that much to say as you will quickly see, a brief complaint on how hard it was for me to purchase it.

You would think, in this day and age, that a citizen of the European Union ought to be able to purchase digital goods over the internet from any member state - but this is not so.

Whereas I would be able to get a physical CD from the German Amazon, they wouldn't sell me the MP3 album and not even tell me why - just show me an ambiguous error on the checkout page.

In the end, I registered on Qobuz, which also does not serve Czech citizens, pretended I was German using a VPN, and then semi-legally purchased the album there.

You don't have to - you can listen to it on Spotify, from anywhere I suppose. But this is a huge fail that only hurts the artists who can't really earn a living from streaming on Spotify.

Anyways.

This ensemble is indeed a-typical, and fresh sounding: the piano provides a familiar grounding, and then you have a cello doing a double duty of supporting the beat like a double bass would and at other times leading the melody like a violin would, then saxophone, percussion, and female vocals. No bandoneón, and I did not miss it.

The performances are technically superb, everything fits together.

There are nine tracks here, and I will only cover four of them. Why? There are two Piazzolla covers (Oda para un Hippie, Chiquilín de Bachín), two canción versions of tango classics (Los mareados, Naranjo en flor) and an arrangement of Ojos negros as a sonata for cello and piano. As a DJ I have no use for them.

I am going to go on another brief rant here and wonder, why would anyone want to just listen to tango these days? I'd imagine that back in the old days, one would huddle around the fire in the pampa at night and sing a song or two while the cows are asleep or are fucking or whatever. But today, in 2021? Consequently, why record it? And why the ongoing fascination with Piazzolla? He's grown out of the milonguero tradition (had his own típica back in the day), got tired of it, found and developed his own niche, which has served him well, and good for him - but what use do we have for him today? End of rant.

That leaves me with four tracks that give me a reason to write this review. All of them very unique, very inspirational, very edgy in a sense that I would have to plan them for my set with extra caution but with a potential for a big payoff if my timing is right (and a blunder if I am not).

Admittedly, they are all cancións, and I am imputing the dancing function into them as I don't believe the group worries too much about dancers. And yet, I believe in them, when the place and time are right.

The most straightforward is Satumaa, a Finnish song, performed in a regular beat of around 55 BPM, so on the slow side of a comfortable walk. I found the emotional appeal catchy, melacholic like tangos often are, and somewhat bitter-sweet.

El choclo starts with a slow intro that made me think it would be a concert piece, then develops a beat at around 0.30" and goes on with much flair and gusto, as a happy drunk stumbling back home from his favorite wine cellar, completely oblivious to the fact that the police hour has come and he's violating the COVID lockdown rules. While it's at times as fast as 67 BPM, there are many rubatos and tempo changes that require the leader to be vigilant. I think it's worth it. It's a lovely choclo, a rebellious choclo. Will dancers hate me for putting this on? Maybe. I will get them drunk first.

Arrabalera also begins hesitantly, then proceeds mostly regularly at the comfortable walking beat of about 61 BPM. There are not many rubatos, however the song is quick to change character, from soothing nostalgia to a playful, even raucous celebration. I love it.

The last of the four is the milonga Se dice de mí, where the group and especially the singer Ursula Cuesta squeezes the last drop of the comedic potential of this tune. It's quite fun with Quinteto Pirincho (Canaro) but the girls take to another level here. Not speaking Spanish, I don't know what Ursula Cuesta sings about in the latter half, but it sure does sound like she's had a drink or two and is complaining about a failed lover or somesuch. It's hysterical, nonsensical, and utterly amusing. The danger for the ronda is in the five stops, or pauses, the band makes throughout the song - I would only play it as the last song in a late milonga tanda. I guess. I so want to play this!

The challenge will be to find another group or two with whom I could mix one of these songs. Tango de Minas are quite distinct. I think Sexteto Fantasma, Tango Esquinas, maybe Chifladas - it'll take some work. But hey, that's why we DJs are paid so well, right? ;)

In the end, I am very happy with my purchase, and am hopeful that I will hear from this ensemble in the future. And please, be on Bandcamp, where it's so much easier to buy your music!

Thinking about 2021, I hesitate to make any plans, our of fear of hearing God doing ROFL. 2022, then? I don't know. But whichever way this goes, I'd like to come back on stage and organize and DJ again.

I can't play for live dancers now (and I won't do any Zoom milongas, thank you very much) but I feel that the time has come for me to start preparing, if only theoretically. And so I give you my first "progressive tango mix", as I would like to call these, a sample of my current tastes and inclinations.

It has not been tested on dancers, and won't be for weeks or months to come. You can test-drive it yourself, should you be so inclined, or just listen to it while tele-working. God bless you either way.

Tracklist

Gloria * El Cachivache Quinteto (2020)
Al verla pasar * El Cachivache Quinteto (2020)
Varela Varelita * El Cachivache Quinteto (2020)

Esperanza * Tangótico / Alfredo Piro (2020)
Corazón sin Dios * San Telmo Lounge, Laura Cardini (2016)
Solo Esta Noche * Otros Aires, Meghan Kabir (2016)

Serenata * Piraña, Romina Grosso (2020)
Corazón de artista * Thito Amantte (2019)
El viejo vals * Dúo Fuertes Varnerín (2014)

A la gran muñeca * Pablo Valle Sexteto (2017)
Siete palabras * Sexteto Cristal (2019)
Comme il faut | Como debe ser * Quinteto Ángel (2014)

No sé tú * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera, Roberto Minondi (2020)
Solo tú * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera, Hache de Huilen (2019)
Algo contigo * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera, Ximena Gimenez, Roberto Minondi (2020)

Mi Corazón Calavera * Calavera Acid Tango (2018)
Ella es así * El Cachivache Quinteto (2020)
El porteñito * Otros Aires (2013)

El choclo * Tangorra Orquesta Atípica, Barbie Williams (2014)
Buenos Aires de mi Vida * Conjunto Berretin / Risa Rank (2004)
No te apures, Carablanca * The Alex Krebs Tango Sextet / Vicente El Cartucho" Griego" (2011)

Remembranza * Orquesta Típica Andariega (2019)
Quiero verte una vez más * Sexteto Andiamo (2019)
Todo te nombra * Orquesta Típica Andariega (2017)

La tapera * Sexteto Cristal, Guillermo Rozenthuler (2019)
La loca de amor * Sexteto Cristal (2019)
Quién será * Sexteto Cristal, Guillermo Rozenthuler (2019)

El último café * La Auténtica Milonguera / Marisol Martinez (2020)
Por la vuelta * La Auténtica Milonguera / Jesus Hidalgo (2020)
Tú, el cielo y tú * La Auténtica Milonguera / Marisol Martinez, Jesus Hidalgo (2020)

Tango Azul * Guitarra Azul (2008)
Dársena Sur * Juan Carlos Caceres (2013)
Milonguea del ayer * Craig Einhorn (2005)

Bella Ciao Milonga (instrumental version) * Los Herederos del Compás (2019)
No hay tierra como la mía * Orquesta Silbando, Sebastián Rossi (2018)
Milonga sentimental * London Tango Orchestra, Guillermo Rozenthuler (2016)

Beautiful Tango (Unplugged) * Hindi Zahra (2019)

The format is TTVTTM with tandas of three, the last song (Beautiful Tango) being a sole closer.

It does not feature all of the bands I would love to include, simply because not everyone is on Spotify, or on YouTube, or on Bandcamp, and I don't know how to make an auto-playable playlist combining tracks from these (if there is a way, please kindly let me know!).

I will see if I can make this a recurring feature. No promises just yet.

image credit goes to Siddharth Bhogra

Containing ten cover songs and two originals, the album offers a variety of more or less believable imitations of the Golden Age classics such as Verdemar, A la gran muñeca, or Tus labios me dirán. All delivered with 100% professionalism and make-believe enthusiasm that should please even very traditionalist milongueros.

Personally, I enjoyed the two new compositions the most, but I have a dog in this fight - I want new music to come into being. Like I wrote last time, I struggle to make a decision to play a new version of a hit song (such as Verdemar) where there's nothing to improve on the canonical version.

The D'Arienzo covers

There are two - instrumental Yapeyú and vocal No mientas.

Compared to D'Arienzo's 1951 recording, Yapeyú here is very elegant and a lot less angry and urgent. D'Arienzo's accents are way harder and the transfer I have is also about 2 BPM faster. I feel like if you want to make the motive really stand out, you've got to punch some noses 'till they bleed.

It gets closer with No mientas.  The same grim story with a lot of tension and suspense. Echagüe is inimitable and the fantastic Bernardo Bergé does not try; he delivers in his own style, with precision and the right emphasis.

The Di Sarli covers

Another coupling of an instrumental and vocal piece - A la gran muñeca and Verdemar. And as for getting as close to the original as possible, the very best of the album.

*A la gran muñeca *(1945, 1954) opens a wide musical landscape in front of you and lets you walk through it like a played in a open-world computer game would, without a mission that you'd have to go through but with enough guidance you can enjoy the hike in comfort.

Di Sarli did Verdemar a couple of times, and Pablo Valle's covers is closer to that with Oscar Serpa than the first take with Rufino. The singer Bernardo Bergé does not imitate neither one and performs with great clarity and vibrance without being showy. A personal favorite!

The Biagi covers

I wasn't entirely convinced of Romantica Milonguera's handling of Tus labios me dirán, and, to my surprise, Pablo Valle Sexteto made my day here. Biagi's recording with Alberto Amor is hard to get in an acceptable technical quality (TangoTunes don't carry it as of late 2020), and listening to this, I feel like time-traveling to 1945 - even Bernardo Bergé's voice matches that of Amor with high fidelity, if not by intent. A terrific job.

Viejo portón from 1938 really shows its age today, even in the fabulous TangoTunes transfer, and the sexteto again shows how this lovely vals might have sounded back then. Instead of the ancient-sounding Teófilo Ibáñez, Bernardo Bergé is joined by Walther "Chino" Laborde in a brief estribillo duet towards the end of the song, and it is magnificient.

The Troilo covers, and a Pugliese

I did not find these to be particularly noteworthy, or even necessary, their technical mastery notwithstanding.

Guapeando is a fast, optimistic Troilo make-believe instrumental. It is also over-played in its original rendering from 1941, with a great TangoTunes transfer readily available, and with many other faithful covers.

Even more covers are available when it comes to Te aconsejo que me olvides, e.g. from Andariega or Cachivaches. I am personally not a big fan of Fiorentino as he recorded it in 1941 and will take almost any other singer over him - Bernardo Bergé sounds again very much more preferable to me here. Still, Troilo's own recording has a certain punch, some sense of urgency that I'm missing here.

To close the series of covers, I give you Pata ancha. There's little if anything to complain about about the musicianship and dedication of the band. I just feel that it's not necessary to make a make-believe replica of a track from 1957 where the original suffers neither from unacceptable recording quality nor many transfer artifacts. Where I do enjoy such covers is when the band takes another approach, perhaps amplifying Pugliese's idiosyncracies to some extent, like Tango Bardo does.

To each his own. These tracks are great when only considered on their own merits. My nit-picking originates from my tango DJ hobby, where each track must earn its place in my sets based on various criteria, many of which are not based on the band's own quality but rather the context in which it operates, it predecessors, influencers, and also competitors.

The originals

These two are lovely.

In Para siempre, the band takes some guidance from Mr. Di Sarli to make its own tune. The melody is pleasant and flowing in a comfortable walking tempo. It does not impose and leaves you smiling without remembering any particulars. It sounds to me as if the composer / arranger wanted to make a Golden Age tune without explicitly borrowing one.

The milonga Dotarpeando elaborates on a playful theme with a constant milonga beat below it, staying mostly on the tonic, which has an interesting effect, very compact, driven, like a river flowing through a tight valley, and not at all monotonous or repetitive! The tempo is just at about 95 BPM, there are no tricks to confuse less than savvy milonga leaders, and it will function well in any position within a milonga tanda. Thank you, Pablo Valle Sexteto, for this gem!

There are two versions of this song on the album, one with (very light and decent) percussions and one without. I prefer the latter as any kind of drums tend to inspire very different movements and feelings than one would want in a milonga (or tango or vals, for the matter).

Closing thoughts

When it comes to covers, and specifically those that want to re-create the arrangements and the style of the originals, Pablo Valle Sexteto comes as close as one can, and be directly compared to Los Herederos del Compás, the D'Arienzo cover band, that I reviewed recently. For all I know it could even be the same band, since the pianist Pablo Valle sits in both of them.

Whether or not is such an effort worth pursuing is an open question. Whenever the cover songs plugs a gap in the original material where the original is either too ancient or no acceptable transfer exists, I am happy to receive it. That was the case a few times on this album. Other times, the original resists imitation and makes it redundant, in my estimation. There are a few of these here as well.

Still, there are times when I organize an event with no ancient music at all. And there, all of the tracks showcased here would be warmly welcome.

What your $15 buys you are eleven excellent, excellent covers of tracks from various periods of D'Arienzo's recording career, plus one track, which I could not find in his repertoire (De igual a igual).

The covers are so authentic-sounding that the casual dancer might be hard-pressed to tell the difference, especially with the post-1950 repertoire.

Yes, there is no doubt about the contemporary sound, and so there's no mistaking Desde el alma for its 1935 original. The arrangements, accents, all the various D'Arienzo's idiosyncracies and stylistic choices, all those are there, however. This is as close as you can get to the idea of what D'Arienzo's orchestras would've sounded today, assuming he'd want to cover his own work again with no musical development at all.

Which raises the obvious question: why bother? D'Arienzo is widely available from various reputable sources, be it CDs, TangoTunes compilations, whatnot, many of them in excellent technical quality.

The answer for me gets easier when considering other tracks than the iconic Loca and Paciencia. I feel that there's nothing to improve there, and if I don't want to use the scratchy 1937 version with Carbel, there's always the phenomenal rendering with Palma from 1961.

You might draw the line differently. Lovers of Jorge Valdez, for instance, might look askance at Andate por dios and Quiero verte una vez más. Recorded in 1957 and 1964 respectively, there are no scratches on the BMG recordings and, unlike D'Arienzo himself, Valdez is hard to imitate or even surpass.

Still, I would argue that the band's singer, Pablo Ramos, reportedly a son of another D'Arienzo's singer Osvaldo Ramos, does a great job here. His voice is pleasant and, unlike Valdez and especially late Echagüe, he does not tower above the orchestra like a superstar - simply performs like any other member of the band. I find this a lot more useful for dancing.

This is apparent in Quiero verte una vez más, where Valdez goes on a theatrical journey and constantly steers your attention to himself. Ramos is noticeably more decent without sacrificing the material: he takes you through the drama that is not all about him but also about you, too.

I was especially pleased by the covers of Mi dolor and De puro curda. D'Arienzo recorded the former in his last period (1972), which is to my taste overly loud amd brassy, and the latter in 1965 with Laborde, a singer whom I do not enjoy at all. Both covers will do a much better job on the dance floor than D'Arienzo' own versions - resolute and powerful without veering into the hysterical.

On to the instrumentals. There's six of them, four tangos plus vals Desde el alma (fabulous) and La espuela, a hard-to-find milonga that D'Arienzo recorded in 1946. I found the latter to stop short of its potential - there's some edge missing here, perhaps something that another take would fix. I would make the accents sharper and make the instruments arrive at them exactly and not, well, almost.

Los Herederos do just as well without the singer and consistently so. In fact, the whole album is consistently good from top to bottom, my occasional grumbling notwithstanding. If I had to pick a favorite from the instrumentals, it woule be Canaro en París, and only by a hair or two.

One final contribution to the conundrum raised above (why do this at all): simply put, musicians of today are by and large better. If you pick a random group of clasically trained violinists or pianists from 2020 and match them against their predecessors from the 1940s, they will eat their lunch. And then some.

This point does not apply always - some Argentinian bands have terrible violins. Here, it does, full stop. No need to make any allowances, these guys are pros.

This album is great. It adds twelve songs to my repertoire of contemporary tango that I will use as soon as COVID allows and I can DJ again.

POSTSCRIPT: the band also shows it can do other things than to cover D'Arienzo: in a separate release, they published two versions of a (presumably original - actually, no, it's a cover of this Bella Ciao Milonga, one with a long intro with a singer, and another without that you can drop into a milonga tanda without hesitation.

It has all you want in a milonga: a catchy theme and a relentless drive from start to finish. Bravo!

The review comes with a bunch of caveats.

First, it's not clear to me that the music I am about to discuss is intended for dancing, and so I am in danger of misrepresenting its story. Second, I am no expert on contemporary Argentinian music outside of our cuddly tango bubble. I don't really know Argentinian rock or its song tradition

With that out of the way, let's take a listen to the music.

The album (EP, really) comes with 5 songs plus a short coda.

Es Otoño is a straightforward song, where Piro and a guest singer Victoria Di Raimondo are mostly accompanied just by piano. Mostly upbeat and definitely for listening only.

In Tango de no amor, the group is joined by Julio Coviello on bandoneón and the drums provide a consistent rhythmical backdrop. It is a resolute, somewhat darker song and thanks to the bandoneón also most immediately danceable.

Esperanza is a relaxed, chill-out piece, potentially also usable on the dance floor as its structure is regular and the piano provides a solid rhythmical foundation. I found the melody pleasing, if not especially varied, and felt an inclination to create slower, more open-embrace movements to it.

Not so much with El Viajero, which is quite angry, if I can say so, and the rhythmical structure of which is least conductive to dancing. The drums are quite pronounced here. It sounds like a rock song with no traces of tango that I can recognize.

The closing track - Muerte Dulce - drops back to a merely melancholic mood, at times urgent. At five minutes, it's quite long to drop into a tanda without some premeditation.

As I ponder what kind of events I would like to produce post-COVID, I lean more and more decisively in the progressive direction, and so I was pleased by my purchase of this album from which I might use 2-3 songs someday. This year was not the most fruitful in terms of new releases, and one can only hope that the twenties will be roaring again, soon.

It would be good to know why "Volume IV" when it's their 9th release on Bandcamp? Friendly visitors' tips welcome.

The contents if what you would expect, not even COVID can bring down the spirits of Romantica. You get 10 super-charged tracks that are mostly cheerful, often kitschy in their delivery, swift and all very much at home on the dance floor.

Singers Roberto Minondi and Ximena Gimenez each get four tracks, the remaining two are instrumentals.

All the tempos are right, averaging 63 BPM, and the band plays no tricks on the dancers.

Half of the arrangements chosen for this release cover better-known hits: Quiero verte una vez más, Gime el viento, Nada, Tú, el cielo y tú, and Junto a tu corazón. I am usually ambivalent on this topic; on the one hand, it's refreshing to hear the established material with a new auditory perspective, on the other, the bands are usually fighting an uphill battle.

Romantica avoids the comparisons by producing each track in their own unified style. I have not yet decided, for myself, whether that's a unequivocal positive (such as in D'Arienzo being D'Arienzo) or not so much in that the arrangements would benefit from more variety.

Tú, el cielo y tú sounds to my ears as the pinnacle of the album, breaking the relentless drive with occasional mysterious moments.

Then there are four tracks that are not covered frequently: Tus labios me dirán, Fuimos, Los despojos, and Luces de mi ciudad. That, and the cover of a 1934 non-tango song Midnight, the stars and you.

*Tus labios me dirán *is a borderline case, as I have it firmly associated with Di Sarli and Durán's recording from 1945 and it's the only song from the album where the arrangement, for the lack of more precise words, didn't work for me. I felt that Romantical steamrolled over the material where it needed gentler treatment.

The rest are pleasant additions to my future DJ sets.  When I mix the old-timers with new bands on a milonga that is in most aspects traditional, I favor covers of less well-known songs over those that compete, bearing in mind that the audience is mostly traditionalist, with one or more canonical versions that everyone loves. All bets are off, obviously, if I produce the event myself and the evening is programmed to be progressive.

I've only listened to this album an hour ago, and so this is definitely not a proper review. Do yourself a favor and head over to Bandcamp and have a listen.

It's reportedly the band's first foray into electronic tango, yet the amount of electricity in the sound is modest. Other than the occasional computer-generated effect, the flow is mostly driven by the bandoneón and sometimes electric guitar. What puts this album squarely into the "neo" box are the omnipresent drums, and I don't know whether they were produced physically or electronically.

Viewed through the prism of the dancing potential, it's not obvious to me that the drumbeats are all that helpful. The band has already had plenty of explosive energy before they hired the drummer (hey, they released an album named Tango Punk!). Now it becomes at times overwhelming.

As a case in point, consider the opening track, which is a cover of either Comparsa criolla or Comme il faut - ironically, I can't decide which one it is (it shows you how out of touch I am these days but I can always blame Corona). The track in the album I purchased on the band's website is titled Comparsa criolla but the streaming services have it as Comme il faut and so it also appears on the booklet above. I listened to multiple versions of both tracks from different orchestras and feel extraordinarily dumb that I can't make this distinction.

Anyways - at 76 BPM it already flows at a super-fast tempo, even faster than the band's previous cover from the album Tango Punk Vol. 1. Kilowatts of power and the drums push it, in my estimation, out of any reasonable set - unless I want to see blood on the dance floor.

Although I can make the opposing argument with the final track, which is a cover of the R.E.M song Everybody hurts. The musical phrasing suggests 33 BPM, which would be impossibly slow. The drumbeats allow for the illusion of a faster 66 BPM beat, which the dancer can use to keep the ronda flowing.

The album has two strong winners that I would like to use in my sets after Corona: a very kitschy and sugary Buscándote, and a playful Ella es así. I have already danced to the latter during a private practice and can confirm it's a perky little milonga that milonga lovers will enjoy, drums notwithstanding.

Buscándote has an ethereal, dreamy character and a very regular flow, albeit slower at approx. 50 BPM. I enjoyed the interplay of instruments - not just the bandoneón but also the guitar and piano take turns in faithfully delivering the melody.

Of the album's original tracks, I enjoyed the pleasant vibes of Berlin. The melody is not particularly catchy but the mood is chill and relaxed. I would use it for a tanda (at an alternative / progressive event) that is to have a calming effect.

Some did not strike me as particularly useful for dancing. Keep in mind I am not completely in the "neo" camp and do not wish to sever the connections with the past. Regardless of when the music was recorded, it is essential to me that I can dance the traditional tango steps to it. And that I am prompted by the music to do so. Some of the tracks here didn't do this for me. I would add Tokyo, Cité tango, Tiempo en el aire, and Automático to this group.

I can't decide about the track Como la gente. It has an excellent forward-moving energy and you can move to it at almost the regular walking speed of 60 BPM. After about 50 seconds comes a longer passage with rapping in Spanish, which I feel is substantial to what this piece wants to deliver and what might also make it borderline - I am not sure what I would dance to it. And this is not a criticism - I simply do not know. But hey - I haven't danced or DJ'ed in months, so take it with a grain of salt.

I recommend that you give this album a listen - it's interesting to witness the evolution of this band, which has always kept dancers in mind. And as always, if you like what you're hearing, support them and purchase the album from their website as I did.

The album "New York Tango Session - Berretineando" is not a new release - it was recorded in April 2009. The Bandcamp release has given me a good excuse to put out a review of this highly danceable music by a band that I don't know whether it's still active - hopefully yes. Alex Krebs makes frequent appearances in my sets and you will soon know why.

Included on this album are ten tracks, a good mix of classics with tunes that are not as frequently recorded by contemporary ensembles. All except two are instrumentals.

In summary

If I were to distill the gist of the covers recorded here and also on Stumptandas, I'd come up with something like this: unassuming, folksy yet technically very precise tangos intended for consumption on the dance floor.

The instrumentation is conservative, with a quartet of bandoneon, violin, piano and double bass. The earlier grouping around Alex Krebs, Conjunto Berretin, also had a harmonica, which I found hilarious and sometimes missing here: it adds to the overall "pub character" of the music.

The music in detail

Sorbos amargos, an unusual choice for an opener, gets rid of the overwrought lyricism of Demare's canonical version in favor of a much simpler, swift elaboration of the melody.

It is even more so in their treatment of Hay que vivirla, compadre, vis-a-vis D'Agostino's take (the only one in the pre-modern era). You may not even recognize the tune at first.

But why make a cover if all you want to do is to re-create the original recording? If the melody still makes sense in the new arrangement, with the different tempos and accents, it takes on a new life and can be put to different uses compared to the original.

The violin takes us through the opening of El viejo amor, another tune that only one orchestra recorded previously, José Basso with Floreal Ruiz in 1961. This short rendition strips the piece of Basso's cinematic pathos and delivers a simple, melodic, likeable tango in a comfortable walking tempo. The interplay of instruments, each taking part of elaborating the melody, is very pleasing.

The violin has a prominent place in Alex Krebs' arrangements. Indeed, it has a lot of ground to cover in the absence of a singer, as in Bailemos. Beloved by many as captured on the 1955 recording by Di Sarli with Pomar, the tune takes on a new form here, flourishing even in a more chamber-music setting.

Let me interject briefly and ramble about violins. They are often the weakest link in the Argentinian orchestras, both past and present. The joke that a violinist spends half his time tuning his instrument and the other half playing out of tunes applies unfortunately way too often.

The opposite is true here. Nick Danielson's violin is masterful and expressive without being showy, clean and convincing. And considering that by Alex Krebs' account, the two have met for the first time on the day of the recording in April, 2009, I have to tip my hat with double the vigor: well done indeed!

Moving on to Duelo criollo, I've selected the unforgettable rendition of Di Sarli with Durán from 1946 as a point of reference. Alex Krebs' version shares with it the sharp accents throughout and is only faster by a couple BPMs. With the singer absent, the violin again fills the gap, with the bandoneón assisting notably.

The cover of Suerte loca is close in spirit to the Enrique Rodríguez / Armando Moreno recording from 1941. Here, too, we have sharp, lively staccatos, carrying and underpinning the smooth melody. It is one of only two tracks where the singer, Hector "El Pulpo" Peyreyra, joins the band. I wish there were more to form a tanda.

Ventarrón is a powerful tune that lacks a convincing Golden Age interpretation. I won't glibly discard the recordings of Canaro and OTV 1933 but they are too ancient-sounding for my taste. Among the moderns, Orquesta Tipica Imperial covered it in 2003 and I am doubtful whether it was even intended for dancing.

With competition lacking, Alex Krebs & co. have delivered a fresh, modern interpretation that has what it takes to become a yardstick: a lively tempo, smooth singing, and an undisuptably dancing character. Bravo!

A similar story can be told about La última curda, with the exception that its origin do not date to the pre-historic 1930s but rather to the hyper-emotional late 1950s and 1960s. I will offer the version of Gobbi / Landó from 1957 without meaning to place it on a pedestal; you will find the interpretations of Troilo or Goyeneche equally heavy and melodramatic. Here, it is moving forward and its lyricism does not obstruct but encourages rewarding footwork on the dance floor. Where the singer would dwell and meditate, the violin makes a brief statement and moves on.

Triste destino is another gem that was largely ignored in the pre-modern era, with only De Angelis and Gobbi giving it a try in the 1950s. What I wrote about *La última curda *applies  here as well. Their take is lyrical, somewhat less driven, more meditative while no sacrifices to the danceability are made. I was especially moved by its forceful climax.

Last comes the Cumparsita, which, according to Alex Krebs, was recorded in a single take, without sheet music and with only a brief instruction to "play it minimal and a little dissonant". It is a delightful, always improvising elaboration on the immortal classic, at its length of 4.40' destined to surprise and also delight the dancers when played to close a milonga.

P.S.

I have wanted to write about Alex Krebs' tango projects in the past, and never had a good excuse until now. It feel a bit odd to write about releases made 10 or more years ago. Fortunately, the Bandcamp re-release gave me a good excuse, and here you have it.

In writing about tango contemporaries, I feel compelled to make occasional reflections against the classics, the pre-moderns, who still dominate the social tango scene. Here I went all the way, selecting a point of reference for all but the last track. But rest assured that you can enjoy listening to and dancing to every single track on this album without giving the slightest regard to the classics I've listed. The music stands on its own merits.

If you like what you've heard, please consider buying this album on Bandcamp, as I did. Perhaps if there's enough of us could this band make a new appearance in the 2020s with new material. There aren't that many from whom I'd eagerly buy anything they release, and Alex Krebs' tango quartet  (and sextet) certainly is one of them.

Two things can be true at the same time: I believe Corona is no laughing matter, and don't want to stay put until the vaccine magically solves it.

The decision-making is confounded by the general lack of conclusive evidence in either direction. You pick your expert then follow the advice. Ideally there would be just one truth, however. I don't think we've discovered it yet.

Many of the visible signs of the health of our society however suggest that the virus here is busy drinking Pilsner and smoking pot. No signs of any stress on the health system and very few people getting really sick.

That led me to concluding that I would take a few extra risks, such as occasionally dancing or DJing, as well as seeing friends and family, and see what happens. I don't see it necessarily as a coin toss, because I don't know what the odds are.

Hopefully I won't have to reverse this reversal again.

image credit goes to Egor Barmin

The album, poignantly titled "Tiempos Extraños" (strange times indeed), and contains 9 tracks. Four of these are original pieces, the rest are covers. Except for Rosario, which seems to be intended for listening only, they inspire me to dance, if only in my head in these Corona times.

The opening track is Requiem para Beto: slower, meditative, with a pleasant melodic content. The music shares the spirit of Tango del infinito from their earlier album "Lujo y Fantasía".

La maraña is a more complicated affair. The main theme is accented and supports a good swift walk, the alternate theme is melodic and decidedly slower.

Varela Varelita is straightforward and swift from beginning to end. Its accents are excellent and it will propel you forward with a positive charge. I don't know if its name suggests any association with Héctor Varela, because musically there doesn't seem to be any. This is an uncomplicated, optimistic tango instrumental for the 21th century.

*Marión *is first of the five covers. Some of them are truer to their canonical versions than others (Marión even has some of Caló's signature riffs) and if it weren't for the electric guitar, you could call them conservative. They are all pleasant, though, with plenty of potential for the dance floor.

I especially enjoyed the opening solo of the electric guitar in La noche que te fuiste. What follows is a more relaxed re-take that doesn't have Caló's urgency and often sits down, tempo-wise, to inspect and play with the melody.

Al verla pasar has some of Láurenz's nervousness and plenty of forward-moving drive. Cachivache already did a cover of No me extraña on their previous album, and are very convincing here as well. I would very much enjoy having a four-piece tanda of Láurenz covers by the quinteto for my sets. Perhaps it's not too much to ask? :)

Junto a tu corazón departs from Di Sarli's decidedly lyrical take and is sharply accented, moving regularly until approx. the 2 minute mark, where the quinteto takes a break and enjoys a quieter lyrical moment.

Finally, there comes Gloria. In Prague, I most often hear this piece from the 1952 recording by Racciatti with Nina Miranda. In my estimation, the Cachivache retained the character of this version and enlivened it for the contemporary audience. It belongs to my top 3 favorites of this album, along with Requiem para Beto and Varela Varelita.

The album is  available for purchase at the Cachivaches' website. As I keep saying, the best way to support our musicians is to buy their stuff! This album is worth your money and attention.

A few weeks ago, I semi-publicly contradicted myself and went to an open-air milonga. It felt great and also very inappropriate. I miss my friends too much and am willing to make a bet placing my health in place of chips at outdoor milongas only, for the time being.

Slowly, so slowly, I am coming back to tango. I put some time aside today for a listening session dedicated to a recent release by Tanghetto, Reinventango. It came online at Bandcamp in May but was recorded pre-COVID.

The following summarizes my first impressions.

Caveat: I have never been a huge fan of this group, and perhaps I should not even attempt to review their music. This blog is predicated on my love for music I listen to and I avoid writing lukewarm or even negative reviews. Ever since organizing my first cross-over event back in early March, though, I have made a conscious effort to expand the boundaries of my taste. If you feel, then, that this review is lacking enthusiasm or direction, please kindly charge it up to the account of me being a slow and reluctant convert to the nuevo / neo cause.

The summary first: I am unconvinced that the primary audience of this album is the general dancing public, althought not completely opposed to such conclusion. There are a couple of songs that could make me get up, put the glass of wine on the table, and seek a willing partner. The rest feels more like a sound play for the sitting listener.

Candidates for the dance floor:

• Nos volveremos a ver - chill piano start, then melodically pleasant flow at around 43 BPM. No urgency, rather making space for a relaxed foot-play with a wider perimeter around the couple.
• Transtango - swift walker, regular, melodically interesting, more pronounced dancing appeal.
• El chamuyo - almost a milonga tempo, although not clearly milonga in character; melodically acceptable with speed of about 85BPM or half that, depending if you count every beat. After the opening, there's the signature milonga beat carried forward by the double bass and percussions but the melody playst against that, and as a result, this could be either a swift walker or a quasi-milonga at best. PS it has nothing in common with El chamuyo you know from Donato's recording from 1938.
• La mano de Dios - a cello starts with an intriguing melody, then the badoneon joins in a fugue-like fashion, followed by the rest of the ensemble. While I appreciate the arrangement, I haven't felt the melody captivating me in a way that would make me want to interpret it with my body. At around 2' minute mark the character changes abruptly, provoking slow, prolonged movements - then the fugue comes back. Swift walker at around 66 BPM.
• Abrazo perdido - slow melodic walker, likeable melody, trotting along at approx. 59BPM

The rest: I haven't grown fond of the rest at first listening. Remember, my first instinct is to judge the music by its dancing appeal. Just lending it my ears, I appreciate its thoughtful instrumentation and structure and recognize it's a work of art and mature musicianship.

Then again, tango is for me a whole-body experience. In this regard, this album is an affair of mixed reverbrations, some only touching my ears, others vibrating further along my spinal cord and sometimes bringing my feet to motion.

Enrique Francini was a notable violinist and if his biography is to be believed, he died with a violin in his hands. He put together his own orchestra in 1955 and though it lasted for only about a year, they recorded a few remarkable pieces of music for dancing.

To me, the most appealing are those with Alberto Podestá. His voice had only just peaked, is resonant and captivating throughout. Rarely an evening goes by without me putting a Podestá tanda on the playlist.

Structure

• Un tango para el recuerdo (G minor)
• Alguien (F minor)
• Bailemos (G minor alternating with C major)
• Fueron tres años (E minor)

Four out of the six tango recordings of Francini/Podestá are in the G key, making a sensible harmonic progression very constrained. That said, I am happy with the flow of this tanda. It is predominantly lyrical, only getting some respite in the penultimate song.

The tempo is hovering around the normal walking beat of 60 BPM. This being from mid-1950s, there are occasional rubatos and you won't marching forward but rather swirling in a more expressive, melancholic way.

Usage

You know me: I am a sucker for a good 1950s melodrama. I would put 5 tandas like this in a normal weekday milonga. Anytime from Hour 2 onwards, I would say.

image credit goes to Sander Crombach

We've had a semi-lockdown since early March, with pubs and shops closed but most white-collar business open. The recorded COVID-19 infection number have rarely exceeded 300 and have stayed at ~ 50 cases per day for the last few weeks.

50 is not zero, however.

The government has to do a balancing act, and it chose (wisely, in my opinion) to gradually loosen the restrictions such that normal business can return and the upcoming economic downturn is not an outright devastation.

With it, the first official post-lockdown milonga was recently announced.

Bad idea.

As I wrote in The Coming Tango Desert, tango is a terrible hobby in the event of a global pandemic. At a milonga, you break all the rules: you are indoor, with poor or non-existent ventilation, you hug dozens of people during the night.

A recipe for infection.

As far as I can tell, nothing essential about the disease has changed since March. There's no vaccine and no definite cure. People outside our lucky country are dying by the thousands, in the aggregate.

You can argue all you want about how the young(ish) and healthy(ish) are usually spared the worst outcomes. Believe it to your own peril. It's too early to tell about the longer-term morbidity of the survivors, and until that is clear, you'd be wise to weight the prospect of unknown and potentially debilitating chronic impairment against, what exactly, a short-term thrill?

Paraphrasing Nassim Taleb, when faced with the risk of ruin, it's prudent to panic. And be extremely conservative and cautious.

Admittedly, I did do a few secret tango encounters in a poorly lit park at night with a select friend, and might do some of these again. I traded a very small risk for a brief moment of pleasure. If I were consistent with what I'm saying here, I wouldn't have done it, but who is? I'm fine with being true to my words directionally.

It pains me to no end that I cannot tango. But tango I will not until the risks are better understood or can be managed reliably.

The worst case scenario is, I'll miss out on a few milongas and rejoin later. That's a pretty good deal compared sucking on a tube in an ICU.

Perhaps you can feel the negative vibes emanating from these words. I know I am pretty angry with my friends right now, the tango dancers and organizers in Prague. I think what they are doing is reckless and irresponsible.

At the same time I understand them. Some of them depend on tango for their income, for many others it's the only form of socialization they have. I get that. I, too, am starving for the tango embrace. And, I support their right to exercise the trade-off they are making. I am not making an argument to ban milongas but rather pitching the idea that it's stupid to organize them until it's safe.

Life is a series of trade-offs. I happen to favor staying COVID-negative and losing the tango embrace. And I wish that I'm being too cautious and all will be well with my friends. Hopefully I will see them in a near future.

Don't be surprised if I reverse my position in a few weeks or months. In fact, I surely hope to. At this time, I am staying home. And if you're from around here, I urge you to do the same.

UPDATE: I did reverse my position.

image credit goes to Michał Parzuchowski

Armando Pontier was a prolific author, infamous for his collaboration with Enrique Francini that, in my opinion, was a clash of the titans - both extremely talented and opinionated, their recordings are too tense and complicated to be welcome on the dance floor.

Separately, however, they did some pretty fine work.

This tanda comes from the CD Armando Pontier Vol.1 (1957/1958) that arrived in the mail a few weeks ago. I have yet to get to the vocal pieces. The instrumentals have charmed me too much!

Structure

• A la gran muñeca (A mi/ma)
• El entrerriano (G ma)
• Derecho viejo (F mi)
• Zorro gris (A mi)

First three songs run at approx 64 BPM, the last one slows down a bit. If these were four straight walkers, I wouldn't want this dip in speed. Zorro gris, however, is a surprise lyrical twist in this story, and I feel like the tempo change emphasises that and brings it to a satisfying close.

The music has a fantastic kick, the accents are sharp and the forward drive is relentless. Only occasionally does Pontier indulge in a rubato. These are reliable walkers with not that many tricks for the naive leader.

Usage

I would not hesitate to play these instrumentals anytime I needed swift, accented tanda to boost the energy levels. Perhaps when I've run out of D'Arienzos and needed something more profound.

image credit goes to Nsey Benajah

The waiting was worth it.

The album comes in a paper sleeve but don't let that fool you:  its production  quality is superb.

It features 11 covers of various tango classics as well as 5 originals by Gaspar Pocai, the bandleader. A note on the back of the sleeve suggests the repertoire comes from a tour Roulotte did in 2019.

My take

Roulotte is one of my Top-5 living tango bands, and it's interesting to see their evolution. This albums sounds like the core member of the "bigger" Roulotte took a vacation, went somewhere sunny, drank a lot of wine and played at small-town milongas.

They stripped tango of all the pathos it has accumulated over the decades and put it back where it came from: in a bar full of shady but mostly harmless characters.

The underscore this point, consider major stylistic choices other orchestras make (non-exhaustive):

1. Clean and faithful - typified by German ensembles such as Sexteto Cristal or Quinteto Ángel, this style respects the original arrangements and brings them to the 21th century
2. Romantic and over-the-top: the guys from Romantica Milonguera and its spin-offs go all the way to eleven, grabbing on and chewing each phrase until no juice is left
3. Avantgarde - best represented by O.T. Andariega, with their unique, modern arrangements and sometimes very alien renderings of tango classics

All of them sound like they take the job quite seriously: it is often fun but you can imagine them playing on a stage of a concert hall and they would fit in there.

Roulotte, not so much, not on this album.

Consider Esta noche me emborracho.

The lyrics are about a man getting drunk so as to not hurt himself thinking too much about a particular lady. Gaspar Pocai delivers that story believably and with poignancy, and yet the whole setup is a circus. You don't have to watch the video and appreciate his red top hat to feel like you're being taken up for a night of binge drinking, playing cards, and reminiscing.

Or, Yo no sé por qué te quiero.

Ostensibly about another man going crazy about the object of his affection, Gaspar Pocai does not permit any high-minded emotional journey on the part of the listener. Indeed, as he pretends to cry and mocks the whole affair, pathos is replaced by drunken horseplay.

The music

This is a smaller Roulotte, with up to 5 players (bandoneón, piano, 2x violin, guitar). Some songs are only rendered by Pocai and Blondel, though you'll hardly notice. The soundscape is varied, rich, and spatially compressed. It's chamber music.

The songs are driven by Pocai, all of them vocal pieces. You'll often hear the other musicians joining him in a chorus. It's a trademark of this album, one that is present in most pieces.

Another are rubatos. Pocai is in the lead here, and he'll occasionally bring the song to a halt to end a phrase. I was wondering if that brings his tangos closer to the canción genre but that's probably a step too far. The music is always danceable, with only the opening Reír being debatable in this regard.

There are two valses (El vals soñador, Bajo un cielo de estrellas), two milongas (Berretines de libertad, Y que querés), the rest are tangos.

The milongas are Gaspar Pocai's originals and they are lovely, especially the former. The tempos are mild and the dancers will have time to to enjoy the details for their bipedal interpretation of the tune.

Among the tango covers, La vi llegar delivers the most polished, noble experience, somewhat remiscent of Caló.

The rest is equally lovely and more in character, tendered with alcohol and very playful. You'll enjoy Barrio de tango, Paciencia, or the totally pathos-free El adiós. It couldn't be further removed from the over-extended versions of Pugliese or Vargas.

Among Gaspar Pocai's tango originals, I want to emphasise Si te da lo mismo. Swift, accented walker with a rhythmical charge that keeps going off constantly to keep you engaged on the dance floor.

There are no weak moments on this album. The selection is remarkably even and has obvious tanda candidates. On that note, however, I should add that I would not mix songs from this album with songs of the "bigger" Roulotte. This is indeed a separate, distinct product. The big Roulotte is a full-fledged, serious orchestra; this is a drunk chamber music session.

I don't know when I'm going to return to my DJing. When I do, I'll surely bring this album with me. It's a gem.

Imagine you've walked into a chill afternoon milonga / tango café, dressed casually and not expecting too much drama. Welcome! I give you a mixed tanda of valses to get you started.

Structure

• Otros Aires - No sé (A-major)
• Sexteto Fantasma c. Rodrigo Perelsztein - Noche de estrellas (D-minor)
• Conjunto Berretin c. Joe Powers - CB Vals (A-minor)

We have one cover song sandwiched between two originals. The three bands have little in common; the overall feel of the songs, however, blends together well.

The plan was to find companions to Otros Aires' No sé. Them being so peculiar and recognizable, I would prefer to compose a single-band tanda. Too bad: they don't do many valses. The other one I know, Buenos Aires Va, is way too slow.

Never mind - I like mixing. It's an adventure.

No sé starts with a short intro and is primarily acoustic with just sprinkles of synths thrown in as spices. The flow is relaxed and soothing: you are among friends who wish the best for you.

Noche de estrellas as interpreted by Sexteto Fantasma is a relaxed cover by a classic known primarily from the recording by Canaro c. Ernesto Famá (1939). I love their instrumentation; the trumpet is decidedly a foreign element but the melody is mostly driven by the bandoneón and you also hear the familiar sounds of a piano. The singing by Rodrigo Perelsztein is elegant and faithful.

CB Vals comes from an album Tangamente: Tangos a la parilla para bailar by my favorite American band that is no longer in existence, Conjunto Berretin. As I understand, it was a project of Alex Krebs from Portlang, Oregon, who is still very much active in the tango world.

You'll hear the harmonica and singing of maestro Joe Powers as well as a lot of violin, which tends to take the leading role in Alex Krebs' orchestras. I love the casual, lounge character of the song - good vibes throughout.

There are a few rhythmical gotchas, and so I put it at the end of the tanda. By the third song, the couple should reach the sufficient level of symbiosis to carry themselves over that. I mean, if you can dance to Biagi and his syncopes, you can handle this just as easily.

Usage

The tanda is at the slower end of the acceptable spectrum. I would consider speeding it up from 59 BPM (as recorded) to 62 BPM if I felt, at the moment of making the call, that the tempo is too slow. You never know in advance.

I'd throw this in whenever I needed a relaxed, unassuming vals tanda. It doesn't have an aggresive "kick", and so is not ideal for when you need to boost the energy levels. On the contrary, you'll use it to calm people down and lead them into a happy place.

image credit to Andy Falconer

Wandering through the tango desert, you will find renewed appreciation for basic steps when you meet for an illicit tanda in the middle of the night with someone who, too, cannot resist the temptation and gambles with her personal safety in exchange for a fleeting sensation of movement in embrace guided by a regular walking beat.

That was a mouthful, wasn't it?

It's hard to deny the straightforward appeal of 1930's Canaro music. Your feet move effortlessly and there's no temptation to do fancy figures; the ronda practically drives itself.

These four pieces come from 1935. You can use them for your home practice of the tango walk. Possibly with a broom.

Structure

• Cambalache (E-flat major)
• Noches de Buenos Aires (B-minor/major)
• El que a hierro mata... (C-major/A-minor)
• Milonguita | Esthercita (F-minor/major)

All tunes run at approx 60 BPM.

The tanda runs in waves. Cambalache kicks it off with decisive, happy beats. I like to use simple and happy tunes to start a 1930s Canaro tanda.

Noches de Buenos Aires and El que a hierro mata combine lyrical and happy themes - the former is predominantly lyrical, the latter mostly upbeat.

Milonguita is a beloved and very memorable theme and will please the couples as they finish the tanda. Its character is primarily lyrical.

Usage

DJs like to use early Canaro as warm-up. It's a cliché, really. You come to a milonga and hear Canaro's beats (or Donato, or OTV). It's an easy default that won't offend anyone.

Recently, I have started using Canaro later in the evening after a demanding lyrical phase. It's great for a major reset. You can use it to gradually build a second (or third, or fourth) stage of your evening.

Simple walkable tango. What's not to like about it?

image credit goes to Julian Tong

So far, my temperatures are normal and I only cough occasionally when I get a dry hit from my vape. No headaches, I am soaked in wine. Thanks for asking.

And no, I won't divulge her name.

I wouldn't have written this week's tanda of the week without having danced. Tango is a contact sport and cannot be performed virtually. Only writing about tango and not dancing and DJing it is a lot worse than masturbation. There's no climax to be had.

Anyways.

This week's tanda is progressive. Why "progressive"? I think the term "nuevo" is too generic to mean anything (Piazzolla is nuevo, right? His prime was in which decade again? Before I was born?). "Neo" is hostile to the "traditional", I am inclusive. Hence "progressive" - that's what I'm calling it from now on.

Enter four bands with four contemporary-sounding expressions of tango.

Structure

• Tango del infinito by El Cachivache Quinteto, 2018; A-minor at 54 BPM
• Creep by Orquesta Típica Andariega, 2019; C-major at 61 BPM
• Noches milongueras by Sexteto Fantasma, 2018; G-major modulating like crazy to finish at B-flat-Major, ~56 BPM
• No importa by Roger Davidson, 2014; A-minor at 58 BPM

Remarks

I wanted a chill-out tanda for relaxation and intimate enjoyment.

Tango del infinito opens with a non-assuming theme, decisively modern but mostly consonant and pleasing. Other originals by the Cachivaches I've heard thus far tend to be more violent and dissonant; this one is calming.

Andariegas' Creep is supposedly a cover of a Radiohead track. Admittedly I am not a Radiohead fan and won't trouble myself with listening to the original. It has more edges than the opener, more push, while not speeding up much. This tanda need changes of energy from track to track to avoid putting you to sleep.

Noches milongueras by Fantasmas is calm again and soothing. Optimistic, too. There are multiple modulations within the song, not all of them done flawlessly (meaning you do notice them), which is how you get from C-major to B-flat Major. A cool chill piece.

I chose No importa to finish us off for no special reason. It brings more drama to the party without going over-board and has potent melodies. I remember playing Roger Davidson on milongas in 2014 and thinking how promising that ensemble was. They have not released anything since then, I think. Too  bad.

Usage

Each milonga needs to have peaks and valleys. This tanda is for the valleys.

When people spend a lot of physical energy on fast D'Arienzos or demanding Puglieses, they want to relax a bit, maybe smoke a joint or drink some wine. This music goes very well with that, or you can dance to it and enjoy more personal space around you.

For progressive milongas, this would work great after a more intense work-out to calm people down.

image credit by Jens Johnsson

But a dramatic milonga can also inspire a solid work-out on the dance floor. In fact, some of the best milongas are far from cheerful - consider Silueta porteña.

This tanda starts off on a serious note but quickly evolves into pure fun. Take it with you on your morning run - until the lock-downs are released, then I'd love to play it for your dancing enjoyment.

Structure

The singer is Horacio Palma with the orchestra of Juan D'Arienzo, joined by Jorge Valdez in the last song. Too bad Palma has only recorded two solo milongas!

• Prometedora (1962)
• Me llaman milonga (1961)
• ABC del amor (1961, with Valdez)

Prometedora (F-minor, about 103 BPM) is a fantastic piece without peer and works great as the opener. Sharp staccatos, genius play with accents. It will stay in my head all week until I sit down to assemble the next week's tanda.

Me llaman milonga (D minor evolving to major, ~ 113 BPM) kicks off noticeably faster. I'd consider slowing it down a notch to even-out the tempo progression in this tanda. Stylistically, it binds nicely to the opener and by virtue of quickly switching to a major key, it also leads the way for the joyful closer.

ABC del amor (F major, ~ 112 BPM) is Palma's duet with Valdez. The piece is decidedly optimistic and vivacious. It will put smiles on your dancers' faces, which is what you'd want in a milonga tanda.

Usage

Other than the very first milonga of the evening, I would play this tanda anytime for most audiences. It's got a wonderful character and flow that rewards milonga aficionados.

image credit Kyle Hinkson

I featured a tanda of Di Sarli c. Durán about two months ago. I love their collaboration from the 40s but my heart lies in the 50s. The quality of the material they recorded between 1956-1958 is astounding.

Nobody could match Di Sarli at his game. The enormous space he creates with each phrase and the steady slow beat gives the patient dancer the ultimate freedom of movement.

I cringe when I see leaders rush it. This music is to be indulged with slow, deliberate movements, flowing through the ronda as if each milimeter of the space you have available had a special meaning and you wanted to acknowledge it.

Yeah, I am certainly hallucinating now that I have not danced for almost four weeks because of the fucking coronavirus.

Anyways... enjoy this any way you can. Hugs!

Structure

• No la maldigas por Dios (G minor)
• Si nos queremos todavía (B minor)
• Nubes de humo | Fume compadre (A major/minor)
• Sonatina (G minor)

I've done a few mixes late Di Sarli with Durán and this one is heavier and melancholic. Originally, I planned to have songs in a major key in the middle but the arch did not feel right. You can make an upbeat tanda from their work... I just didn't feel like it today.

No la maldigas por Dios is my absolute favorite. The recording I have comes from the wonderful transfer by Bernhard Gehberger, available to members of his Tango-DJ.at website. Its lyrical potential is unmatched.

I think that Sonatina comes a very close second, and hence its placement at the end. Reasonable people could come forward with a reverse ordering and I would not blame them. Both are masterpieces.

Neither Si nos queremos todavía nor Nubes de humo lag far behind. Especially the formed could make for a serious closer of a similar tanda. The latter is meant to temporarily lift up the mood before the last song comes to finish the (sad) story.

Usage

I would deploy this tanda when the dancers have spent a fair amount of energy and want to hug.

This is unlikely to happen before the first hour or two have gone by.

At a traditional event, I might plan the set such that this would be the lyrical peak. When organizing my own night, I would play a few more tandas like this... many more.

image credit by Alexander Popov

Their stuff is cocaine for the dance floor. Given in the right amount it releases a magnificent outburst of energy to behold. Take too much and you are in trouble.

Razor-sharp accents, every phrase squeezed dry of all its potential. Tango Bardo goes for your jugular. These guys don't mess around.

Structure

• Café Domínguez (G-minor, 60 BPM)
• Pavadita (A-minor, 60 BPM)
• Mi dolor (D-minor, 63 BPM)
• Tigre viejo (F-minor, 63 BPM)

Café Domínguez must be the opener here, with its resolute energy and draw. Tigre viejo must close; musically it's most challenging, mixing drama with passages that are almost meditative, and resolving the conflict in a way that seems definitive.

Usage

I would place these bad boys next to a softer, lyrical tanda. In a recent set I played it after La Auténtica Milonguera and right before milongas. It provides a strong jolt of energy and will please dancers who need a good workout.

image credit Artur Aldyrkhanov

Few orchestras had such a unique sound, and even fewer developed it over such a long period of time, unbroken although challenged at every step of the way.

His tangos have a special place on most milongas. Perhaps too special. The music does challenge the leader but the reward is immense.

This tanda brings his valses to the stage. While not numerous, most have a great forward drive and a clear rhythmical base.

It's a tanda that starts on a positive note then dives deep into more lyrical waters.

Structure

Let's get this right out of the way: I would love to have three of Pugliese's valses from the 1950s featuring Alberto Morán. Unfortunately, only two exist, and both are included here.

The tanda begins with *Puentecito de mi río, *canta Roberto Chanel. The year was 1944. The keys are G/B major and the mood is light. I believe that its character is very inviting, if a little deceptive in the light of what's to come.

From the very first notes of La noche que me esperes, we know the direction has changed. The key is F-minor and the character is urgent, touchingly lyrical. Alberto Morán's is impeccable; of Pugliese's singer, I used to love Maciel the most and I am reconsidering.

The closer is Manos adoradas (C-minor) and starts off noticeably but not excessively faster; we've gotten from 65 to 69 BPM. Lyrically, it's less urgent but with the faster tempo comes a stronger pull overall. Ending with a brief coda, it makes for a logical closer.

Usage

I have tried this several times, and it does have some demands on the dancers. A prior warm-up is advisable. After this, I would play a "comfort tanda", e.g. late Di Sarli. Other than that, no special concerns.

image credit Peter Oslanec

This time, it's on Spotify as not all tunes are available on YouTube.

Structure

The first three songs are with Marisol's current ensemble, La Auténtica Milonguera, reviewed here and here. The ultimate piece comes from her earlier collaboration with Romantica Milonguera.

We open with the majestic El último café (E-flat major). It's almost four minutes long but that's quite OK for an opener. It gives the couples more time to find each other.

El abrojito (D major alternating with d minor) is very cuddly and makes for a smooth transition. Pugliese recorded it with Alberto Morán and this version could not be more different. It stands out in its own way.

The third song is intended to make some waves on this otherwise peaceful surface. Cada vez que me recuerdes (G major alternating with G minor) is most known from the recording of Troilo with Fiorentino. The key is . I am happy I now have this worthwhile modern rendition for dancefloor use.

The tanda closes with Tú (A major). Caló and Troilo recorded it back in their day, and I have to admit I am knowledgeable about neither version. Given how brilliant this piece comes about from Romantica with Marisol, I won't rush to cover my omission anytime soon.

Usage

When you want to calm your dancers' nerves and give them space for warm, cuddly embrace, this will do the job.

I have played Auténtica every time in the past two months. It wasn't pre-planned, I just always found a reason to put Marisol and her colleages on the stage. Their covers are lovely.

image credit Christiana Rivers

It would be hard to find a hobby less practical in an event of a global pandemic. We cannot do this alone and cannot perform it remotely.

As I am not an expert in virology, I am listening to smart people who are. All of them are advising to practice "social distancing".

Inasmuch as I am comfortably introverted, I do need my weekly fix of hugs and embraces. Social distancing removes them from me for an undetermined period of time.

Not so long ago, I planned to organize about one nuevo/neotango milonga per month, and soldier on DJing. Not only I am canceling that, I won't be dancing either.

A good friend of mine here in Prague started this practice back in January. Then, I thought he was over-reacting. Now I think he was prescient.

There is nothing we can do except weather this coming storm.

More important aspects of our lives are on the table anyway. Tango is a hobby, and hobbies must give way to saving lives and keeping our loved ones out of harm's way.

When most of us have already been infected and recovered, I could imagine holding events for the survivors, so to speak. That moment is still far out, I think.

Until then, be safe, be strong, and be wise. We will hug again.

image credit Hassan Pasha

Troilo recorded with Roberto Goyeneche throughout 1950s and 1960s. It was a time of transition, one that would ultimately lead to a collapse of danceable tango. An era that nonetheless produced some of the most beautiful expressions of tango esthetics.

Dancing to latter-days Troilo rewards me in multiple dimensions. The flow is slower, at the normal walking tempo or below, with frequent rubatos that prevent me from falling into stereotypes. Indeed, as the leader I must focus deeply, be aware of each beat and go with the phrase as dictated by the singer.

Yes, I must be "in the zone" and cannot just walk through such tanda. The prize I receive is being able to co-create this immensely powerful music with my steps. There's no rush; with proper concentration, I don't need to employ any fancy figures, just good walking and turns.

Anyone can. Or rather, anyone with sufficient patience and an open mind. I am aware that many leaders are only comfortable with the regular beat of (a subset of) Golden age music. Well, so be it. The dancing community can only grow, in many meanings of this word, if the musicality of all involved grows as well.

Structure

• Garúa (1962) - D minor
• El metejón (1963) - C major alternating with C minor
• Tamar | Marta (1963) - G major alternating with G minor
• El motivo (1961) - D minor

I chose Garúa to open the tanda as it is a beloved tune with a super-strong pull. The placement of El metejón and Tamar | Marta was driven primarily by "gut feel", and I liked the harmonic progression better. As the closer, El motivo delivers the strongest emotional punch in my view.

Usage

On aspect I'd always look for would be the musical maturity of my dancers. I imagine they'd need to be properly warmed-up for this tanda and that they would shows signs of wanting to indulge in slow-motion lyricism.

Other than that, no strong opinion to share.

Honestly, I am re-examining my previously held beliefs these days, and don't want to put this tanda in a "special" silo.

If I were a hard-core traditional DJ, I would only use this and similar tandas later in the evening, if at all.

Nowadays, I am experimenting with mixes of all tango periods within a single evening such that even new music and the 50s appear much earlier than in my previous sets.

image credit Herman Sanchez

My friend Thomas has gifted me a CD with very unconventional tango covers made by a duo of harps, Das Harfenduo.

Over half of the tunes are Piazzolla covers, the rest is a selection of various beloved hits such as Malena, La cumparsita, or La yumba.

It's unlike anything you would normally expect to hear. The performance of familiar tango tunes by harps makes it an almost otherworldly experience.

The harp has been used by some orquestas típicas, e.g. by Fresedo, to add a special effect that I personally associate with a noble atmosphere, perhaps such as enjoyed by rich townsmen of Buenos Aires for whom Fresedo would perform.

Das Harfenduo is what you would get if the rest of Fresedo's band got stuck in a traffic jam and the harpists would have to cover for all of them.

Their technical mastery is undisputable, and they treat the beloved tango tunes with respect, extracting what's important into their arrangements.

This is most evident in their treatment of Malena, with its nostalgic lyricism that the duo has re-enacted with high fidelity.

The instrumentation is less favorable to tunes where you'd expect a more direct, aggresive sound, such as La yumba. One must dispose of all expectations in order to enjoy this interpretation, which is convincing in its own way, just very, very different.

The duo has dedicated more than half the space on the CD to their vision of Piazzolla concert pieces. Arguably that's where they can really show what's in them. What made Piazzolla famous was not his early típica but the concert music he made after renouncing the dancers.

I am wholly impressed with their Piazzolla re-interpretation. For I am not prompted to dance, I can sit in quiet and admire the complex web of melodies, the comings and goings of phrases, the thoughtful arrangement.

Obviously, this album isn't aimed at the dancing audience, and as a DJ I could only use one or two pieces for a special occassion (perhaps the Cumparsita?). It will find its fans among the general concert-going people who, perhaps, will catch the tango-virus from this unlikeliest of sources.

Not so long ago, I ruminated on whether you can dance tango moves on non-tango music. My position until now was that you cannot.

Somehow, that conversation between my friend Thomas Kröter and the (neo)tango DJ Elio Astor has planted the seeds in my mind. And they've grown.

Consider this: all milongas in Prague are 100% traditional. Once in a blue moon, there is a so-called "neolonga", and it's usually packed full. A sub-community of my dancers are hungry for fresh beats.

And what I am as DJ if not a crowd-pleaser? After enough tangueras shared with me that they'd love to dance neo again, I said to myself, fuck it, I'm gonna do it.

I organized a cross-over milonga that would include contemporary cover bands, non-tango songs, and some electro beats. I called it Nuevo Tango Bar, where "Bar" was meant to indicate a cheerful, slightly intoxicated mood I was going for.

What I saw was beautiful.

While the music was new, I saw the same old tango moves we all cherish. It was a party, relaxed, sometimes wild but mostly with a respectful ronda.

The playlist was pre-planned, with only minor fine-tuning during the event. This is how it went.

• No sé tú * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera, Roberto Minondi (2020)
• Solo tú * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera, Hache de Huilen (2019)
• Algo contigo * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera, Ximena Gimenez, Roberto Minondi (2020)

--

• A Mi Viejo * Calavera Acid Tango (2018)
• Under The Moon feat. Ekaterina (Full Moon Remix) * Seoan (2010)
• 2046 Main Theme (Rumba Version * Various (2004)
• Querer * Francesca Gagnon (2014)

--

• Amor O Nada * Otros Aires (2016)
• Like A Tango * Otros Aires (2016)
• Raro - versión español / siciliano * Otros Aires (2013)

--

• Yo no sé que me han hecho tus ojos * Sexteto Andiamo (2019)
• Buonasera * Orquesta Típica Andariega (2019)
• Gira Gira * Sexteto Andiamo (2019)

--

• Trenzas * Collectif Roulotte Tango, Gaspar Pocai (2015)
• Corrientes y Esmeralda * Collectif Roulotte Tango, Gaspar Pocai (2012)
• Qué falta que me hacés * Collectif Roulotte Tango, Gaspar Pocai (2012)

--

• Cada vez que respiras * Esteban Morgado Cuarteto (2007)
• Yesterday * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera (2020)
• Por una cabeza * Bandonegro (2017)
• Tango to Evora * Conjunto Berretin (2005)

--

• Baldosa floja * Tangorra Orquesta Atípica / Laura Vigoya Arango (2019)
• Milonga en la 31 * Aureliano Tango Club (2010)
• Retrolonga * Electrocutango (2003)

--

• Adio Kerida (2007) * Yasmin Levy (2007)
• Beautiful Tango (Unplugged) * Hindi Zahra (2019)
• Querer * Francesca Gagnon (2014) (This was by special request since most people missed it the 1st time :)

--

• The Perfect Tango * Otros Aires (2016)
• Bailando Sin Paraíso * Otros Aires (2016)
• Perro Viejo * Otros Aires (2016)

--

• La loca de amor * Sexteto Cristal (2019)
• Lágrimas y sonrisas * Sexteto Cristal (2019)
• Vals De Invierno * Solo Tango Orquesta (2017)

--

• El último café * La Auténtica Milonguera / Marisol Martinez (2020)
• Cada vez que me recuerdes * La Auténtica Milonguera / Marisol Martinez (2020)
• Cristal * La Auténtica Milonguera / Marisol Martinez, Jesus Hidalgo (2020)

--

• Nocturno Calavera * Calavera Acid Tango (2018)
• Englishman In New York * Tanghetto (2008)
• Tango de Amor * Magda Navarrette (2008)

--

• Futbolera * Esteban Morgado Cuarteto (2007)
• Milonga de la Puteada * Esteban Morgado Cuarteto (2007)
• Morena * Esteban Morgado Cuarteto (2007)

--

• Mil Pasos * Soha (2007)
• Los Celos * La Negra (2012)
• Martingala * Julieta Laso (2018)

--

• Tristeza de arrabal * Otros Aires (2010)
• Barrio de amor * Otros Aires (2010)
• Junto a la Aurora * Otros Aires (2010)

--

• No nos veremos más * Collectif Roulotte Tango, Gaspar Pocai (2015)
• Musa * Quinteto Ángel / Sergio Gobi (2014)
• Que nadie sepa mi sufrir * Tango Spleen Orquesta, Mariano Speranza (2018)

--

• Milonguea del ayer * Craig Einhorn (2005)
• Dársena Sur * Juan Carlos Caceres (2013)
• Una Noche Mas * Yasmin Levy (2007)

--

• Solamente ella * The Alex Krebs Tango Sextet (2011)
• Hasta siempre, amor * Tángalo, Fabían Rodríguez (2014)
• No te apures, Carablanca * The Alex Krebs Tango Sextet / Vicente "El Cartucho" Griego (2011)

--

• Allerdings Otros Aires * Otros Aires (2007)
• "Otra Noche en "La Viruta"" * Otros Aires (2007)
• Sin Rumbo * Otros Aires (2005)

--

• Cuando florezcan los rosales * Sexteto Cristal, Guillermo Rozenthuler (2018)
• Noches de invierno * Sexteto Cristal, Guillermo Rozenthuler (2018)
• Vals del recuerdo * Sexteto Cristal, Guillermo Rozenthuler (2018)

--

• Remembranza * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera, Roberto Minondi (2020)
• Vida mía * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera, Ximena Gimenez (2020)
• Algo contigo * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera, Ximena Gimenez, Roberto Minondi (2020)
• La cumparsita * Tángalo, Susana Bishop (2014)

It may not be immediately obvious but the set has the TTVTTM structure even as it does not feature any TVM recorded in the previous century.

There were no cortinas, which led to some confusion among my dancers. Remember, all events in Prague are hard-core trad. I will think hard on what to do next. For this type of music, I strongly prefer a continuous flow.

We had leaders! Gender parity! The RSVPs had 1 man for every 4 women. Thankfully, they brought their favorite leaders over.

Last but not least, I heard that miradas and cabeceos were more egalitarian than usual. Perhaps that goes with the overall feel of the event. Allegedly the women were not shy of initiating. Bravo!

What this means to my DJing is unclear, other than I'll attempt to make this a regular affair, perhaps monthly. As of now, I feel somehow liberated and freer. As if I've broken out of a mental prison.

The album title suggests that the dancing public was in the author's focus, and I its contents confirms that.

It's populist in that it wants to put a smile on your face and put and keep you in a good place.

I haven't heard about this artist before and don't have any special insights. His website is only in Spanish and the discography page has no links. I'll update this post once I know more.

Structure

Opening the tanda is Milonga de la Puteada. The key is A-major and the tempo about 105 BPM. This tune has a slow intro, hence its placement.

Following is Agarrate Catalina!, which has a somewhat urgent start but then goes about its business in a decidedly relaxed way. The key is A-minor and the tempo about 101 BPM.

The closer is Morena, a tune I've heard a few times before in other arrangements. Very catchy if not cheesy, but that's alright by me. The key is E-minor and the tempo drops slightly to 99 BPM.

Objections, arguments against

I see several arguments why these are not proper milongas, and want to address them preemptively - and also to clarify my own thinking.

The beat. The flow suggests a 4/4 time, which has a different cadence than the 2/4 more common in tango music. The rhythmical signature of a milonga is not very pronounced:

The instruments. We have the violin often taking the lead, then bandoneón and a guitar, plus percussion that never takes center stage but it's there most of the time. Percussion instruments are certainly rare in tango music, and give this tanda an exotic feel. In my estimation, they are helpful in supporting a cheerful milonga atmosphere.

The progression.I've written that I don't like milonga tandas that have a downward slope in tempo (from faster to slower), and this one does. Here, I feel like the dancers will expend a lot of energy on the first two songs and that the last one should not exhaust them. Also, the slow-down is barely noticeable.

Usage

This is not a tanda for a traditional 3-hour milonga. It has a party feel to it that fits better a more relaxed, cross-over or nuevo event. I have one coming up in a week and that's where I'm going to test it.

The occasion was the penultimate edition of Milonga Joe, a popular Monday evening milonga in Prague. The very last one happens on the 24th of February, 2020.

I went all in without much preparation done beforehand. Somehow the right people showed up and I got in the "zone" instantly.

Without further ado, this is how I played it.

Intro tanda, a few people arriving and talking

• Indio manso * Carlos Di Sarli (1958)
• Bahía Blanca * Carlos Di Sarli (1958)
• El abrojo * Carlos Di Sarli (1958)
• Una fija | Glorias de ayer * Carlos Di Sarli (1958)

Still not too many present, the first couple dances

• And I love her * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera (2019)
• No sé tú * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera, Roberto Minondi (2020)
• Perfidia * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera, Roberto Minondi (2018)
• Algo contigo * Orquesta Romantica Milonguera, Ximena Gimenez, Roberto Minondi (2020)

Sound check with a singer Emmanuel Codina who'll have two sets tonight.

• Poema * Orquesta Típica Andariega (2017)
• Trenzas * Orquesta Típica Andariega / Marisol Martinez (2019)
• Loca * Orquesta Típica Andariega (2017)
• Al compás del corazón | Late un corazón * Orquesta Típica Andariega / Marisol Martinez (2019)

Time for valses!

• No nos veremos más * Collectif Roulotte Tango, Gaspar Pocai (2015)
• Romance de barrio * Collectif Roulotte Tango, Gaspar Pocai (2012)
• Pedacito de cielo * Collectif Roulotte Tango, Gaspar Pocai (2012)

Take it more easy now? Nah.

• Café Domínguez * Tango Bardo (2015)
• Pavadita * Tango Bardo (2015)
• Mi dolor * Tango Bardo (2017)
• Tigre viejo * Tango Bardo (2017)

Okay, we need something romantic and calming now.

• El último café * La Auténtica Milonguera / Marisol Martinez (2020)
• Por la vuelta * La Auténtica Milonguera / Jesus Hidalgo (2020)
• Cada vez que me recuerdes * La Auténtica Milonguera / Marisol Martinez (2020)
• Tú, el cielo y tú * La Auténtica Milonguera / Marisol Martinez, Jesus Hidalgo (2020)

Milonga time! As it turned out later, the only milongas of tonight.

• Silueta porteña * Osvaldo Pugliese, Miguel Montero, Jorge Maciel (1956)
• Milonga sentimental * Fulvio Salamanca / Armando Guerrico, Mario Luna (1958)
• El ABC del amor | ABC del amor * Juan D'Arienzo, Horacio Palma, Jorge Valdez (1961)

The singer comes on stage and does a four-piece tanda. Very passionate and technically 100%. People like him and dance.

I felt I needed a to calm them afterwards. Nothing too trivial though. This Di Sarli tanda is one of two from the Golden age that made it tonight.

• Didí * Carlos Di Sarli (1947)
• El ingeniero * Carlos Di Sarli (1945)
• La racha * Carlos Di Sarli (1947)
• Ojos negros * Carlos Di Sarli (1945)

The singer did tangos, and so it's time for valses again.

• Angélica * Alfredo De Angelis, Juan Carlos Godoy (1961)
• Desagradecida * Alfredo De Angelis, Lalo Martel (1962)
• Maldito corazón * Alfredo De Angelis / Juan Carlos Godoy (1960)

I had one more tanda to go before the singer would return. I chose these instrumentals deliberately, even though they begin with two covers of Di Sarli and we had Di Sarli before the valses. Not that I am looking for an excuse or anything.

• Cara sucia * Collectif Roulotte Tango (2015)
• Una fija | Glorias de ayer * Collectif Roulotte Tango (2015)
• Inspiración * Collectif Roulotte Tango (2012)
• La maleva * Collectif Roulotte Tango (2015)

The singer comes onstage and does his second set. Very romantic with relaxed tempos.

It's about 23:15 and I don't want people to start looking at their watches. A high-energy tanda of Tanturi instrumentals could help (and it did). This is 2nd Golden age tanda of the night.

• El buey solo * Ricardo Tanturi (1941)
• Comparsa criolla * Ricardo Tanturi (1941)
• Argañaraz | Aquellas farras * Ricardo Tanturi (1940)
• Una noche de garufa * Ricardo Tanturi (1941)

Oh yes, valses again! I announce the last two tandas. My favorite tanguera appears nearby, and so I prepare both including an extra Cumparsita, and go down to the dance floor to make a few moves myself.

• Ilusión de vivir * Leo Lipesker, Roberto Rufino (1959)
• La noche que me esperes * Osvaldo Pugliese, Alberto Morán (1952)
• Manos adoradas * Osvaldo Pugliese, Alberto Morán (1952)

How better to end an evening than with late Di Sarli vocals with Jorge Durán?

No la maldigas por Dios * Carlos Di Sarli, Jorge Durán (1958)

Dónde estás * Carlos Di Sarli, Jorge Durán (1958)

Por quererla así * Carlos Di Sarli, Jorge Durán (1958)

Si nos queremos todavía * Carlos Di Sarli, Jorge Durán (1958)

And, without any extra pause, the Cumparsita.

La cumparsita * Tángalo, Susana Bishop (2014)

I spotted one or two hard-core traditionalists who may have disapproved but I've gotta say, I was very pleased with myself yesterday. Most of the people stayed on the dance floor the whole evening, although as usual we had a gender imbalance at play. I saw a lot of smiles and hugging. It worked.

With Klub Joe closing, we're losing an excellent venue where I'd typically play twice a month. Too bad. Somehow, though, when a milonga closes, another opens soon thereafter. I am not too worried.

It is March 1966 and Florindo Sassone records with Mario Bustos. There are only a few tracks available from their cooperation. All of them excellent for the purpose they are serving.

Why I built it this way

The purpose of this tanda is to give the dancers space and time to indulge. They'll be prompted to make slow, circular movements with plenty opportunities for legwork decorations and such. The music, when consumed with attention, will give them a powerful emotional release.

The overall feeling is heroic, thanks to Bustos' booming bass, mighty lyrical, and progressing from an emotionally balanced starting point towards a darker place.

I have six tracks available to make a tanda, and three of them are in the C-key. That somehow limits my options as I don't like to have two songs in the same key side-by-side (read my reasoning here). The other three all have unique keys.

My final choice:

• Esta noche me emborracho to open - starts upbeat, relaxed, the C major key alternates with A-minor, and of course the minor keys brings with it its sense of lyricism. Emotionally, it's balanced (not all upbeat and not all dark).
• Yira yira  - starts happy in D-major, then moves on to a more lyrical B-minor. Some drama, contained in a fairly regular flow. The overall character is also balanced.
• Bandoneón arrabalero - this is where the skies begin to darken. The song opens in G-minor with an urgent plea, so to speak. The occasional transitions to G-major do not leave much imprint in the dancer's memory. The song slows down before the end, which I definitely do not prefer for the 3rd song; here, it's the price I paid for a satisfying harmonic and emotional progression.
• Tomo y obligo is the emotional peak. No wavering and no balance here; it's serious business in C-minor. If my Google Translate isn't screwing with me today, it's about a man having been betrayed by a woman, drinking and wowing not to cry.

I mean, sometimes I think that having literacy in Spanish would help me appreciate tango more, and other times, I am grateful I only get to enjoy the beauty and brilliance of the music without being distracted by the over-dramatizing of the lyrics.

Usage

I would wait until later in the evening with this tanda. My dancers need to have warmed up, both physically and to each other.

It's not so difficult to dance to as there aren't any rhythmical "gotchas" here. The biggest payoff comes after the couples have danced a lot of rhythmical and lyrical tandas and need some more emotion - or rather, some more straightforward, non-nuanced emotional release.

At these times I often play Pugliese with Maciel, 1950s Di Sarli, 1950s Vargas or 1950s Federico. The advantage of Sassone is the regular rhythmical basis.

Plus, all the tunes are under three minutes long, whereas many, many 1950s and later music comes well over three minutes. I consider the 3-minute mark to be the ideal time to finish a song.

Sassone's instrumentals from the same period are perhaps better known to a milonga / marathon audience. I think these vocal pieces are no less deserving our attention and will reward the milonguero with a wide gamut of available emotional expression.

image credit Priscilla Du Preez

This tanda features his work after he split with Tanturi.

In the 1940s, he collaborated with Enrique Alessio and Emilio Balcarce, among others. This tanda mixes both orchestras without fear of retribution by the purists, because they don't have much of a unique style. These orchestras were driven and subjected to Castillo.

Why I built it this way

Included are: Juan Tango and Lecherito del abasto (both with Balcarce), Me gusta un tango así and Soy porteño y soy varón. The tempos are at about 60 BPM and the harmonic progression goes from E-flat major to G major to C major alternating with C minor, ending at G major again.

The overall feeling is upbeat, with good accents and energy, midtempo dancing.

There are no "hits". The audience is unlikely to recognize any of the songs en masse. If placed well within the flow of the milonga, this might not be a big deal.

There is also not much pain and suffering in this tanda, it's happy on purpose. The third song casts some shadows of lyricism to create some contrast and stir those tango emotions.

Usage

I would use it occasionally, preferrably within a context of a longer traditional event (4+ hours) where some forays beyond the hit repertoire are expected and welcome.

For a shorter milonga, like the typical weekly 3-hour format, I could imagine putting it on the "Planned" list but it would most likely end up unused. I see that I played a Castillo tango tanda about three times in 2018-2019.

Mind you, the singing is warm, expressive and it's fun to dance to without special considerations. It's just not spectacularly great, and within the three hours, I'm likely to favor the premier-league type orchestras.

If I am reading this right, Elio Astor, the other party in the debate, claims that Neo-Tango takes the movements and bodily expressions of Tango but discards the musical heritage.

Thomas says, I think, that the future of tango is tango, and only tango, meaning, perhaps, that the contemporary popular music genres, be it Rock, Pop, Hip-hop, or Drum-and-Bass, cannot possibly be the future of tango. His claim is that the tango music evolves and can be alive in this epoch, too. That it is not bound to the Golden age era.

I could be wrong about this, given the serious limitations of my German reading comprehension, and encourage Thomas to respond if I am mis-quoting him here.

My - tentative - feeling is that the Neo-Tango community is going too far with their rejection of the classical tango music and that the bodily expressions cannot be divorced from the music and live happily ever after. Ultimately, the non-tango music must provoke and inspire non-tango movements.

Second, music genres are subject to evolution and if we can have contemporary blues, we can have contemporary tango, too. You don't have to read my blog to know that it is, indeed, very much alive.

What I am not objecting to is to what the Neo-Tango people are doing: if they want to dance tango movements to Rock, Pop, or Hip-hop, I totally support that and send them all my love.

Debates like this one are healthy and needed. Whatever the arguments are, the fact that the people involved are willing to make them and listen to each other is encouraging. Let's identify the barriers that are separating us and tear them down! After all, all we want is to have a good dance... and if we differ in how we want to do it and to what music, I think these are merely technicalities.

Right?

image credit by Tim Gouw on Unsplash

They made two songs available on YouTube: El último café and Cristal.

Summary

This is an excellent add-on to the 100% Tango EP, which I reviewed a few days ago. All I've written about the band's style applies here as well.

As a DJ, I now have 10 songs that I can mix in tandas as everything is immediately danceable.

If they continue their release cadence, they'll reach total dominance in under a year 😎. For DJs who love to feature contemporary tangos, such as myself, there's never enough, and so please, more!

The songs

Included are five tunes, and I applaud the selection of themes.

Cristal has at least three Golden age recordings: one by Canaro / Roldán, another by Troilo / Marino, and finally by Fresedo / Serpa. I am not a huge fan of either one and if hard-pressed, I'd choose the Canaro's version.

I would say that this song was written for orchestras coming later, and indeed there are recordings by Armando Pontier and Roberto Goyeneche from the 1960s and 1970s that successfully mine this source of emotion that is Cristal.

La Auténtica has chosen regular tempos and delivered this song as a lyrical duet. As is their custom, they don't go overboard and keep it civil. It's very pleasing.

I adore El último café: it's a very masculine, celebratory theme, as evidenced by the recordings of D'Arienzo c. Jorge Valdez or Baffa-Berlingieri c. Roberto Goyeneche.

Marisol Martinez proves that you don't need a booming bass to deliver it. This cover is still celebratory, but gentle and relaxed. An instant favorite. ❤️

La madrugada can be fairly dark, such as when Pedro Láurenz recorded it with Carlos Bermúdez. It is very sharp and poignant as well on this Auténtica album, here sung by Jesus Hidalgo.

Even darker can be Nada más, made famous primarily by Juan D'Arienzo and his two versions, one with Echagüe in 1938, another with Valdez twenty years later. La Auténtica ups the tempos and keeps the character. Again, very sharp and poignant.

The last piece is very different.

I've known Por la vuelta from Lomuto's recording with Jorge Omar from 1939. A very sweet, tender song that will leave you smiling.

It is also very upbeat here. Unlike the other songs on the two EPs, however, there are many rubatos and the overall flow is reminiscent of 1950s style.

Perhaps I haven't mentioned it explicitly enough: in the other songs, La Auténtica uses very regular, predictable beats that are comforting even to the beginning dancer.

Por la vuelta as sung by Jesus Hidalgo puts higher requirements on the leader. The tempos are slower and often change - slow down for a moment to make a point, then return.

The leader must then be vigilant. On the flip side, the song will award him or her with an expanded potential of moves.

Yey, yey 👍

January 2020 has so far been a fantastic month of new releases and adventures. I am giddy in anticipation of what might be coming next. As usual, you'll read about it here as soon as it's available.

Like what you hear? Support the musicians and get the whole thing. I purchase all the music I review here.

Rationale

I wanted to play Ilusión de vivir as sung by Roberto Rufino accompanied by the orquesta of Leo Lipesker.

It's a swift vals with a wonderful "kick". And I'm hard-pressed to find another vals with Rufino from the same period that would fit.

I've tried various permutations and this is one of them.

Opening the tanda is Quemá esas cartas by Armando Cupo canta Alberto Morán. Swift and very, very romantic. The key is B-minor.

Ilusión de vivir is placed second and you might ask, if you care so much about this tune, Tom, why not place it first or last?

Well, sure I could, just not in this tanda. In my vals tandas, I don't play any favorites and want all three songs to be equally strong and important. And so the 2nd place does not really mean that I think the song is weaker or whatever else in that direction.

As you can hear, the song lightens up the mood (C-major does that) while still being somehow lyrical.

Closing the deal is En el rosal by Juan D'Arienzo c. Jorge Valdez. Even sharper than Ilusión de vivir and with an equal great kick. The keys are G-minor/major.

I could play a vals tanda with just D'Arienzo and Valdez, sure. It's only here to help Mr. Rufino appear on stage. And I think it complements it nicely without contrasting too much.

Usage

This is a general-purpose vals tanda. I would use it anytime in the evening except perhaps the very first hour if the audience was lazy, or not yet warmed-up.

As a general rule, I like my valses to be swift and lyrical, and these fit both criteria. As for tempos, I prefer valses at around 65-70 BPM, and yes, we have a match again.

If interested, you can read more about how I mix vals tandas here.

image credit by "7 SeTh" on Unsplash

This release features 10 songs: 7 remakes of popular tango classics, 3 covers of pop-music remade with tango beats. All of those performed with the unique flair that makes Romantica who they are.

Here's Remembranza that opens the album:

What I noticed

New singer!

This is only news to me, obviously, since I don't live in Argentina and don't know for how long has Ximena Gimenez sung with Romantica.

Nowhere could I find her name on Romantica's Facebook. Finally, I found a description on an Instagram post that named her. I hope I got it right; if not, a further edit will make it right.

She has a gorgeous, warm expression that serves the music beautifully. There's no pretension and no drama: she's calm, very clear and always on the beat. ❤️

In other news, the Romantica has sped up! [EDIT: this is old news, Tom, you dummy! Their album "Siga el Baile" from May 2019 already did that, but you missed it...]

Their earlier releases rarely went over 60 BPM. That's fine, of course; 60 is pretty comfortable. It's just that I could not use their music when I needed faster tempos in my ronda.

Algo contigo only has three slow songs: Yesterday, a remake of the Beatles' annoying hit piece, crawling at 40 BPM; Mariposita, the loveliest cover I've heard in a long time, moving along at almost normal walking beat, and a moderately timed Rebeldía.

All the rest is pretty swift. Good!

The songs

Remembranza is solid, starting with the typical enthusiasm and omnipresent embellishments that are Romantica's signature. Some dancers might prefer slower renditions that are closer to Malerba's original from 1943. I'm agnostic about that; a well-planned tanda can make this shine, too.

Dime mi amor is a welcome remake of the tune we know from Juan D'Arienzo con Héctor Mauré as they recorded it in 1941. That's a long time, and the song did benefit from Romantica's fresh makeover.

What may trigger some people is Romantica's rendition of Hasta siempre amor. At 67 BPM and featuring relentless  beats, it's by far the most energetic and swift of those I have in my library.

Forgotten are Salamanco's prolonged violin legatos. You won't have time to rotate ever so slowly and place your feet deliberately in slow motion. No, no. This Hasta wastes no time: get moving and save your amor for later!

Rebeldía avoids such controversy: it flows in pretty much the same tempo as Caló's and does not depart from its esthetics.

I have already hinted how much I loved the Mariposita as recorded on this album. It is, without question, most unlike what you would expect from Romantica. Ximena Gimenez takes center stage and enforces the discipline of the orchestra to the level we haven't heard before.

The instruments are gentle, accompany without ever competing for attention, and provide just the beat. And the beat is regular and comforting. It is *not *solo piece for the singer, it's still a danceable tango. Somehow, though, the flow is very calm, lyrical, and never overbearing in the sense that Romantica often is.

Considering Magdala, I often think about D'Arienzo's rendition with Laborde, and I do so with mixed feelings. There were times I loved it, and then I fell out of that love, and I've never played any tunes with Laborde since.

I would say that Romantica's cover made me think about this tune with a newly found fondness, and I do appreciate Roberto Minondi's performance a lot more.

Gone is the darkness of Laborde's expression. Minondi is operatic, as usual, and the overall feeling has the right energy without the unnecessary despair. If you opt for Biagi with Ortiz, I won't blame you. Still, I will insist that Romantica's version goes in the right direction.

This being "first impressions" instead of a full-blown review, I will reserve my judgement of the remaining track for a possible future apropos. I am not a big fan of Vida mía, a remake of which is present on the album; I made not have made this very clear before, but I despise Osvaldo Fresedo and his work with so much determination that I am unable to be a thoughtful critic here. Other than to say that I prefer pretty much any cover to the original.

The three covers of pop-songs included here perhaps deserve more of my attention. Regrettably, I do not really know the originals, other than Yesterday. Having searched for those on  YouTube and being comfortable with only considering the first few search results, I conclude that Romantica's tango remakes are intensely more satisfying to me.

On a second thought, I think that these tango covers of non-tango songs are more important that they could seem to be. Romantica has already made two such mini-albums: one featuring Beatles covers, another featuring boleros. Both made for the milongueros, in the right rhythm and with the right accents. I don't yet know what to make of it, really, other than to say that I see some potential here.

Final impressions

Romantica Milonguera has a solid track records of music made for milongueros. Their style is very energetic and highly stylized; it's not made for any occasion, and that's a good thing. Each band needs to have its purpose, its unique style and energy, and Romantica most definitely does.

Whether or not this album breaks any new ground is not nearly as interesting as the fact that that it did come out and added ten new songs to the modern repertoire. I am grateful that when I dj, I have 1-2 new tandas at my disposal right away. That does not happen every day, or even every month. Thank you, Romantica!

Imagine a milonga where the dancers have had one lyrical tanda too many. You've just bid farewell to your tanguera and had a sip of wine. My God, what's coming up? I hope not another Caló!

Mr. Tanturi comes to rescue you.

The whys and hows

I have played Tanturi instrumentals on pretty much every milonga I DJ'ed last year. His beats and energy are irresistible.

Making a tanda that would satisfy me harmonically is not trivial, however. Just have a look at this screenshot from my library:

Have a look at the beginning of the Comment column, which tells you the keys. Notice anything?

Oh yes, Mr. Tanturi was fond of the keys A, B-flat, D, and G. (The "#" sign is my shorthand for either -flat or -sharp, whatever makes more sense. For instance, f# will be "F-sharp-minor", because nobody sensible uses "F-flat", which makes more sense as E; likewise, B-# will be B-flat-major as B-sharp would more readily read as C).

If I can avoid it, I don't play two songs in the same key side-by-side. That places some hard constraints on what I can do here.

I've tried multiple permutations and this is one of them.

Opening the tanda is El buey solo, which starts with a brief piano solo. As such, it's only usable as the intro, unless you want to break the flow mid-tanda - kudos if you can swing it.

Comparsa criolla comes in at a slightly lower pace, which is why it comes second and not third. I feel that if I drop the tempo here, I still have time to make up for it later.

Argañaraz returns the beat back to 70 BPM, and brings about expectations of a forceful ending. Una noche de garufa delivers just that.

I don't always like to play Tanturi's vocals from 1940, be it with Castillo or Campos; I feel like they can be quite heavy-footed, perhaps suitable for the beginner audiences in their slavish accents on the strong beat.

These instrumentals tell a different story. They give Mr. D'Arienzo run for his money, and do it quite nonchalantly.

Usage

Whenever I need to charge the ronda with higher voltage.

I would avoid them at the beginning because of the higher tempos. The audience needs to be warmed up for these beats.

They will nicely contrast with whatever lyrical tanda precedes them, and can be used as a lead-up to a milonga or vals tanda.

Here are four of them, courtesy of the band that has published them on YouTube:

Summary

Their sound is rounded, soft, and pulsating gently to drive the ronda. All five tunes are perfectly danceable.

I liked the arrangements a lot. They are respectful to the tradition without trying to clone the originals. You should recognize the tunes easily.

The rhythm is consistent and there are no tricks to be played on the dancers, resulting in a predictable flow on the dance floor. You get from point A to point B in a clear, linear fashion.

If I should describe the overall feel I get, it would be "pleasant" with ingredients of "gentle" and "composed".

The songs

Out of the five tunes, El cielo y tú has the hardest job to convince me as the canonical version comes from the legacy of Carlos di Sarli canta Alberto Podestá. Here, it's a pleasant duet of Marisol Martinez and Jesus Hidalgo. It's professionally executed and overall very pleasant.

El abrojito is best known from the recording by Osvaldo Pugliese c. Alberto Morán. It comes out very differently here, and that's a good thing. La Auténtica with Marison Martinez do not try to out-Pugliese it and perform it gently, with only occasional hints of Pugliese idiosyncrasies.

The third song, Más solo que nunca, has three Golden age recordings, all from 1944: those by Láurenz c. Carlos Bermúdez, Canaro c. Carlos Roldán, and D'Agostino c. Ángel Vargas, all great. The band with Jesus Hidalgo delivers a clean, unhurried rendition that is easy on the ears and feet of dancers.

You'll have heard Cada vez que me recuerdes as recorded by Troilo c. Fiorentino or Canaro c. Adrián. Both have a certain sense of urgency that is to a great degree restrained here. Marison Martinez delivers a smooth, noble interpretation.

Tu angustia y mi dolor translates to "Your anguish and my pain" and it's a fairily desperate affair as recorded, twice, by Alfredo Gobbi: once with Tito Landó, once with Jorge Maciel. La Auténtica felt no need for overbearing drama; Jesus Hidalgo gives it just enough lyrical charge and the song, while a bit slower than the rest, flows casually from beginning to end.

Compared to...

Marison Martinez has recorded with Orquesta Romantica Milonguera and a few tunes with Orquesta Típica Andariega. She's the same everywhere, very clearly identifiable. The orchestras could not be more different, though.

When Romantica Milonguera does it, they go all the way, in terms of musical expression, all the way up to the cliff, and then they jump off it. It's always maximally exposed and each phrase that can be exploited is exploited ruthlessly.

The Auténtica holds its enthusiasm in check. Even with Tu angustia y mi dolor they did not let go. They are lyrical but restrained.

That means that as a DJ, I can use La Auténtica anytime, while I have to be careful with Romantica in terms of what energy it brings to the dance floor. On the flip side, when I need to really "cook them", then Romantica can do that, yes.

The Andariega has plenty of energy, too; their claim to fame, in my view, are their unique arrangements and interpretations. Just look what they did to Trenzas, and that's not the most extreme example.

The arrangements of La Auténtica are more traditional, unsurprising, although definitely not trivial. As a DJ, I can use them with less risk than Andariega, which I fear could bring the ultra-traditionalists our of their emotional balance... but perhaps they need that, sometimes.

Last impressions

I am pleased that the trend of new danceable tango music seems to retain momentum. This group adds a new promise as it seems to be fully devoted to the milongueros. Indeed, an inside source whispered to me that there are milongueros among the musicians!

Their Facebook page lists multiple events in BsAs where they've performed recently.

To me, it's also useful that the band performs with singers. That might sound trivial but whereas the Golden age repertoire is predominantly vocal, most of contemporary groups record primarily instrumentals. I like to use those, too, in my sets, but vocals are indispensable. We connect with the singers emotionally more than we do with just instruments.

Hopefully this is a promise of more to come in 2020 and beyond.

Why I built it this way

This is supposed to be a crowd-pleaser, and so I'm opening with Café de los Angelitos (E-mi, G-ma). I prefer this rendition to those by Canaro and Troilo; it's really smooth and chill.

Pudo ser una vida (G-ma,mi) is a well-balanced affair that start off upbeat and shows its lyricism in the second theme. I'd say it's one notch less chill than the opener, preparing the way for what's to come.

That is the lyrical center of the tanda, Lucienne (D-ma,mi), a totally under-rated piece of genius we don't get to hear so often. While not being overly exposed, I'd say the song is quite urgent and more on the lyrical side.

Closing off is Adiós, pampa mía (C-ma). Very chill and relaxed, it should inspire smiles all around.

Usage

Anytime, really. Given its softness and tempos (61, 62 BPM throughout), I'd put it next to a more rhytmical tanda, possibly after milongas.

image credit 7 SeTh on Unsplash

Why I built it this way

Opening the tanda is Pugliese's Silueta porteña, canta Miguel Montero y Jorge Maciel. The tempo is reasonably swift at 106 BPM and the key is E-minor throughout, and only at the end does the song resolve in a major chord.

Flowing in a remarkably consistent fashion, this lyrical gem has the rhythmical underpinning to inspire punchy milonga footwork. The familiar melody, delivered with Pugliese's unique lyrical mastery, ought to bring the milonga crazies to their feet.

Following is D'Arienzo Chiquita y bonita, c. Horacio Palma y Jorge Valdez. We've sped up slightly to 108 BPM and the key is A-major alternating with A-minor.

It's sharp, accented, and proceeds resolutely as all D'Arienzos do. I feel that it's sufficiently lyrical as not to contrast with Pugliese's opener in a way that would make dancers uncomfortable. The kinds of movements it provokes might include more tension, compression, or perhaps precision.

The tanda resolves with Salamanca's Milonga sentimental, c. Armando Guerrico y Mario Luna. The tempo inched up by a notch to 113 BPM and the key is G-major alternating with G-minor.

The foundation is solid, with clear milonga patterns and beats, and while we occasionally hear glimspes of Salamanca's signature violin legatos, this is a light, forward-driving milonga built on the right accents and staccatos. Its character is lighter, more easy-going than the previous two, which is why I like it as the closer in this tanda. It should also be helpful that the melody is widely known and appreciated, albeit from earlier recordings.

Usage

When I have a good crowd on a normal weekly milonga, I would play this tanda as the second or third milonga tanda of the night. It would help if I had milonga-loving audience present. Given that my sets usually include a lot of 1950s music, I would not have to prepare my dancers much for this tanda. I could stick it between late Biagi and Di Sarli tango tandas.

Additional notes

The primary binding agent here is that all three songs are duets. As you dance, you'll consistently hear two voices singing, and that should leave you with a memory of a cohesive story that made sense.

While I would never mix Pugliese with any other orchestra in a tango tanda, I felt like I had no other choice here, other than not to play his Silueta porteña at all.

Indeed, this tanda exists to feature Silueta porteña in a new light. I think it deserves it.

image artwork © Philippe Thiers

I love the small steps, the fast-paced flow, the compressed energy and its release.

Most dancers don't receive enough education in their early years to develop a taste for milonga. Some grow into it, others sit it out. According to my anecdotal non-evidence, more women are into it than men.

As a leader, I get a little more partner choice when the milonga tanda starts: I will look for feet tapping into the rhythm and catch the mirada. I do want the follower to be an enthusiast like myself: there are only few opportunities any given night.

And, I want the DJ to be milonga-friendly and aware that milonga crazies are hungry and won't settle for lukewarm sound-alikes or an outright fraud such as a foxtrot.

When DJing, I do not settle and I do not compromise. My tangos can be varied and multicolored. My milongas are black and white, sharpened and red-hot.

Below, I will outline what milongas I like to dance and play, what are the essential components of a good milonga, and how I mix milongas in tandas. (I discussed how I mix vals tandas a while ago.)

Reasons to love milongas

Ask a friend who dances salsa or swing how they see us tango people. Really, do it. I remember one time many years ago when we had a salsa/tango event with the floors and encouraging people to switch every once in a while. The contrast was stark. One comment I heard from a salsero was: you guys look like zombies!

To put it in less inflammatory words, tango can be quite serious. Tedious, even, when the DJ goes on a lyrical highway and does not take any exit. A milonga can then be a much needed pit-stop where fun and games can happen.

Milonga is fun.

It offers respite after forty minutes of soul-searching and reminiscing of loves long lost. It's a break from marching and trying to be creative in a ronda that never has enough space for the moves you would really want to make.

You can connect to your partner on a new level: instead of delving deep into your passions, stay up, joke around, take it easy.

I never see as many smiles on the dance floor as when a great milonga tanda is in progress. That's it: milonga is s a running joke you make with your feet and embrace.

My reasons to love milongas as therefore best expressed in terms of humor, party energy, and not taking this dancing business all that seriously. Chances are, yours will be similar. Be it as it may, please share yours in the comments section!

Elements of a great milonga

At its core, milonga is not just fun but also easy. It has a regular, lively tempo and the underlying rhythmical pattern that guides the couples:

You'll be intimately familiar with the beat even without ever having analyzed it. Just listen and instead of focusing on the melody, take note of what's going on in the deeper registers.

Some of the best milongas for dancing come from 1930s when this genre was "invented", including the arguably most loved one, Silueta porteña as recorded by Canaro canta Roberto Maida.

Interestingly, Silueta porteña is actually romantic, touching, and quite intense in its lyrical potential, and yet it still prompts you to dance milonga steps to it, guiding you ever so gently to keep moving.

What makes milonga is that the beat is there most of the time. Regularity, predictability of the underlying rhythmical structure is key. The melody can be playful and tricky; the beat cannot.

Another component is drive: a rhythmical drive that is relentless, never receding or pausing, always clear. Consider Mozo guapo as recorded by Tanturi c. Alberto Castillo:

A great milonga will grab you from the get-go and won't release its grip until it's over. No stops, no pausing for a lyrical intermission, just go, go, go and have fun!

Technically, the requirements for a popular milonga also limit the tempo. 100 BPM would be the ideal, with 80 BPM being the lower limit to use on beginners or early in the evening, and 115-120 BPM being the upper limit where it's getting too difficult for everybody but the most experienced milongueros.

The problem with milongas

Scarcity.

Take a look at most orchestras and the milongas are few and far between. Even fewer are the great ones. We're then being served a very limited and repeating selection of the best known pieces.

Given that there is one milonga tanda per hour in the traditional setting, each event will have anything between 2-5 tandas, and that puts some pressure on the DJ. A fallback to the tried-and-tested repertoire is often the solution.

In this area, I am one with the traditionalists. When dancing, I want to receive a great rhythmical tanda that will give me space to joke around with my partner on the beat that I know and love.

Looking at the repertoire available to me at the time of writing, I must ignore a lot of the already limited material. That is very annoying.

Some milongas that don't work so well

It might be useful to discuss a few examples of milongas that in my view do not serve the needs of the milongal afficionados so well. If you happen to love these, more power to you; I am merely expressing my personal judgement.

Consider Soy del noventa by Rodolfo Biagi c. Carlos Acuña from 1943:

Starting with the usual force and sharpest accents, the song loses steam quickly - I get the feeling that it's always slowing down. That's the last thing I want; as a dancer, I want to always be pushed forward and not hindered.

Even the otherwise lovable Flor de Montserrat does slow down after the introduction, but luckily remains stable after that.

Di Sarli milongas often give me pause when I consider them for the particular moment as the DJ. I sense that the orchestration lacks enough sharpness and that the underlying drive is less pronounced than you'd want. As a dancer I am tempted to indulge in movements that fit tango better than they do milonga. Consider Rosa Morena (c. Roberto Rufino) as case in point:

I usually save Di Sarli for a lyrical tango tanda and play something sharper instead.

Some D'Arienzo's milongas, while being great in character, are simply too fast for most audiences. Consider Carnavalera (c. Héctor Mauré):

When I disqualify a milonga from my sets, it's usually for the reasons you can infer from above examples. Either the character is wrong (not sharp enough, not consistent in driving you across the ronda), not stylish (does not inspire classic milonga movements), or the tempos aren't right for my crowd.

Looking for the perfect milonga

You know them, having danced them all.

Hardly a night goes by without Silueta porteña or No hay tierra como la mía powering up the dancers' feet.

I will accept an overplayed hit gladly if the alternative were mediocre.

You could say this about the tangos and valses, too, except there are many more tangos available in stock even when the DJ is only dealing the best known hits. In constrast, there may be anywhere between 20-50 milongas in wider circulation.

Still, it's possible to find milongas from every era that fit the requirements and are not overplayed.

Unexplored milongas from the 1940s

The Golden age has all the hits you have danced to. I'll always play at least one milonga tanda from this epoch to satisfy the urges of my milongueros.

Instead of listing the obvious, I'll name a few songs that have a strong potential yet haven't made it into the mainstream.

Revered for his poignant tangos such as the immortal rendition of Remembranzas, Ricardo Malerba recorded a catchy midtempo milonga named Mariana (c. Orlando Medina) that is friendly to beginners and rewarding to all levels. Mixing is necessary as you won't be able to compose a sensible tanda using only this orchestra.

Antonio Rodio is a gem of a small orchestra that never made it the big stage. I have played his Cumparsita too many times to count. Paloma, Paloma is a playful, midtempo milonga  for an afternoon set. I have combined it with Malerba in the past. The 1940s Troilo could be another match although you can do a Troilo tanda without mixing, and so it's not that obvious.

Eduardo del Piano worked with D'Agostino and his Milonga para Gardel could be combined with his milongas if you wanted to mix, especially since Ángel Vargas is involved. The tempo is easy and the character is just right. I would cut-off the opening speech since the song is not strong enough to be an opener.

Speaking of Ángel D'Agostino.. this one isn't completely unknown, yet it's not often on the menu:

Driven and relentless, Todos te quieren is not for the non-initiated. It's a ball of compressed energy pulsating violently, always on the brink of becoming a supernova. Admittedly, it's not projecting fun; being entirely in the minor key, it can function as a surprise departure for dancers who want to expend some extra energy.

Demare's milongas have too many candombe elements within them for me to really enjoy them. Señores, yo soy del centro is different. It's a proper milonga. Being faster at around 115 BPM, the demands it puts on the leader are higher. I have combined it with Rodio and Malerba and used it as a closer.

Pugliese's Milonga de mi tierra (c. Jorge Rubino) has a phenomenal drive and is remarkably consistent; it never drops, never pauses, never takes a rubato. It's on the faster side of the spectrum at 114 BPM.

Making a tanda around it is a creative challenge. Tortazos is too intense, possibly beyond the boundaries of pleasure.  And, mixing Pugliese with any other orchestra is fraught with danger as his ensemble has a sound that is too unique and too familiar to allow for easy promiscuity. I'll be happy to hear from other DJs who managed to do this successfully.

Could I somehow sneak in Pugliese's Silueta porteña from 1956 into the tanda? I don't know yet. Speaking of 1950...

Great milongas from the 1950s

Troilo's Ni más ni menos comes from 1958 and has it all: the right tempo that's still within the acceptable limit (108 BPM), regularity - it's not totally robotic but keeps it going steady - and the signature rhythmical pattern.

Playful and swift, Salamanca's Milonga sentimental elaborates on the famous melody in the orchestra's unique fashion. At 113 BPM it's already quite demanding. The elements are all there, however: the pattern, the drive, the energy. Hats off to the signers Armando Guerrico and Mario Luna who never skip a beat and never force the orchestra to slow down.

A true gem of the 1950s, D'Arienzo's Baldosa floja is also a duet and Valdez with Bustos make a magificient appearance together. Be warned, though: the while the overall drive is regular, the rhythmical structure has many tricky sections. It's not straightforward. If it were produced by a lesser orchestra, it could become borderline or unusable, but D'Arienzo's genius makes it all work. At some cost to the leader, to be sure.

Other milongas from this period that I enjoy playing and dancing to: Porteña y nada más by Di Sarli c. Mario Pomar (quite lyrical and without the signature pattern but enough drive overall), Silueta porteña by Varela c. Argentino Ledesma (lovely rendition in all aspects), fun milongas by Canaro's Quinteto Pirincho such as Arrabalera. I could name a few others and we would be done pretty soon. Scarcity, again.

Great milongas from 1960s and 1970s

Just good mood and fun, Basso's El firulete is borderline kitschy in its instrumentation but who cares, it delivers. At 112 BPM it's pretty fast, and its relentless drive makes it sound faster than it is.

To my taste, there are too many unisons (that's when more instruments play the some melody or phrase).

At the same time, it puts a smile on my ugly face and makes my feet move. In other words, it works.

Con flauta y guitarra as recorded by Varela c. Fernando Soler and Jorge Falcón is also considerably fast at 112 BPM. Again, the singers are precisely on the beat, which is no small feat. The energy levels are so high I would be hesitant to put this anywhere other than as a closer, culminating a tanda that is not all this crazy.

I love other milongas by Varela from this period, namely Dame un besito mi amor and the cutesy Haceme cu-cu.

Upon closer look, they don't really have the required rhythmical pattern powering them and I suspect that the kinds of movements they inspire fall outside of the milonga genre. I say this tentatively and without any claim of authority; this is simply my gut feeling.

D'Arienzo's milonga from the early 60s are amazing. I've featured Prometedora in my yearly summary, and here I give you ABC del amor:

As is the rule with late D'Arienzo, the sound spectrum is fully utilized and the sheer force of the musical pulse requires that the leaders keep their emotional balance and don't succumb to it.

Promising contemporary milongas

The 2000s brought a world-wide revival of tango, and of milongas as well. Most albums have one or two, and so the repertoire is growing.

The bands tend to fall-back on hits, and so we're unfortunately gifted with too many covers of Silueta porteña that have a hard time competing with the classics. Here and there, the band will come with a remake of a song less known.

Consider De antaño by the Australian group Tángalo, a wonderful ensemble that plays little jokes on the revered classic.

Roulotte Tango released a fabulous rendition of Milonga del ochenta y tres | Milonga del 83 on their album El Siguiente in 2015. Unfortunately, I did not find a usable copy on YouTube - they are holding this gem close to their chest! Do it the old-fashioned way and get the CD instead.

Cuarteto Sol Tango remade La vida es una milonga and Carnavalito | Quebradeño on their album Sin Palabras, which I reviewed. Both are welcome revivals of tunes that do not have multiple canonical versions from the Golden age.

Mi vieja linda by Sexteto Cristal is fresh and sweet and brings this wonderful tune from the scratch-and-squeak mortuary to the present day. I reviewed their first and second album. They are one of very few new bands that have recorded enough milongas such that I don't have to mix their music in a tanda with other bands'.

Ella es así by Orquesta Típica Andariega must be its most original remake, and if you listen closely, it still has the right elements that make a milonga great: the constant drive, sharp accents, the underlying rhythmical pattern. I reviewed them here.

I have a soft spot for the tango projects of Alex Krebs. His album Stumptandas features lovely covers that are both respectful and innovative. Consider Largá las penas, whose canonical version by Canaro came out in 1935, and see how it measures.

This was again a small sample and is meant to showcase my taste. I will feature contemporary milongas in my "Tanda of the week" series as they happen to catch my fancy.

Beyond the tradition and into the wild

As a DJ, I draw the line simply. The new music I play arises from the organic tango tradition, which means that it's acoustic and uses at least some of the traditional instruments like the bandoneón. Most importantly, it must inspire the dancer to move along using tango (and milonga, vals) steps. If I feel like I would rather move differently (for instance, up-and-down like in blues), I don't play it.

That said, I am sometimes inspired by cross-over projects that step over this line. Consider this version of Baldosa floja by Tangorra Orquesta Atipica. It is borderline... and it might still work. The tempo is slower but within range, and the signature beat is there as well.

I believe that I caught this first from a post by Thomas Kröter on Facebook. He is a prolific source of inspiring tango posts and videos and a frequent commenter on various aspects of tango as practiced in Berlin.

Otros Aires has typically too much electronics and drums inside that prevents me from including their music. On a particularly wild night, though, I can imagine throwing in Milonga sentimental or El porteñito. I feel like it prompts me still take milonga steps and its good mood is irresistible.

This is the farthest I would go as DJ these days.

How I mix milonga tandas

At this point you'll have formed an idea about what I am looking for in a good milonga.

A typical weekly milonga gives me two-to-three chances to please my milonga fans. Given this restraint, I will play a "familiar" tanda first (proven hits) followed by a more playful, adventurous tanda at the close of the second hour.

The caveat here is that I sometimes use 21th century versions of the "familiar" tunes for the first tanda. A tanda built around Alex Krebs' Largá las penas would be a good example of this - I used it twelve times between 2018-2019 in various configurations such as:

• Largá las penas
• Negrito
• Ella es así (feat. Enrique "El Peru" Chavez)

I love to do this when appropriate. The sound of Krebs' ensembles is clear, faithful, and non-compromising in terms of the musical essence. All that is perfectly walkable medium tempos suitable for all levels.

A quick look at my 2019 sets revealed that I typically compose Golden age milonga tandas conservatively, preferring to use the same orchestra, while mixing liberally milongas from 2000s.

A pattern that I see being applied consistently in my sets is that I prefer to gradually speed up, upping the notch a little with each song. I would consider the opposite direction (slowing down) to be anticlimactic.

This goes back to the pre-requisite of a consistent forward drive within a milonga tune. That applies to the tanda as well. I will only relax the last song to correct for my own mistake if I overdrive my dancers with the 2nd song.

Other than that, I don't have any deeper "philosophical" designs for my milonga tandas. All songs should be catchy, driven, and fun. Unlike with tangos, I'm not specifically looking to create any contrast.

It's only three songs, and only once an hour. The milonga crazies who've been waiting for so long to get their fix should better walk out sweating and smiling when it's over!

Loving the milonga

As I wrote at the beginning of this monster post, it's too bad there is only one milonga tanda per hour. No matter the reasons for the TTVTTM pattern, I wish there were more milongas at a milonga.

The problem is compounded by the lack of education that yields few milonga lovers in each new generation of dancers.

On top of that, DJs often consider the milonga as an after-thought, especially those that don't love to dance it themselves.

It's time to correct for this historing wrong. Milonga is alive, as is tango. Milonga is forever!

cover image © Allan Beaufour.

Dance, dance, dance

Belgrade is my second tango home. I visited it four times this year.

The Encuentro is arguably one of the biggest festivals in Europe and always a lot of fun. You'll meet old friends there and make new ones. I admire how its organizers, Tango Natural, are able to build and grow their community and keep bringing young people into the fold. One does not have to worship young tangueras to realize that tango can only live on if young people can pick it up - and keep at it as they grow older.

Other than the Encuentro, they organize several "tango weekends" throughout the year, and I came for three of them. The atmosphere is cozy, with anywhere between 80-200 people in attendance (rough estimate), and as it takes place between Friday evening and Sunday afternoon, it offers just about the right amount of dancing I can do in a row before falling down on my bed in total exhaustion.

Berlin is closer, and yet I only came twice. Once for a wonderful Loca milonga in Tangoloft, another time I came for business and dropped by at the milonga in Bebop. I don't know what keeps me from coming back more often!

DJing

I'm always happy to travel to share the joy of tango around, and I was lucky enough to make an appearance at the first-ever tango festival in Hell, Norway, organized by the Trondheim tango club. This is what I played there.

Another event that I cherish in my memory was an international milonga in Görlitz, a Germany city close to the borders of Czechia and Poland. It is regularly frequented by tangueros from all three countries, and is one of the friendliest places you can imagine. The organizers are doing a marvelous job there.

I played 33 times in Prague this year and made several attempts at organizing. Man, isn't that hard! Currently, I am working on a concept that emphasizes the social, fun, non-serious potential of tango. The unaugural event happened just before Christmas, and we had a blast!

Music

There were two main themes I played with in 2019: music of 1950s and 2010s. I am on a mission to brings these two epochs into the mainstream. It does not come without significant opposition: one is considered decadent, the other immature. As a DJ, I can only make my case with careful selection that fits the time and mood.

My obsessions from 1950s, selected and distilled:

• Late D'Agostino, without Vargas - still very much himself, and with a talented roster of Tino García and Rubén Cané, who don't get nearly as much love as they deserve!

• Late Vargas, without D'Agostino but available in conjunction with excellent ensembles of Eduardo Del Piano, Armando Lacava, or Edelmiro D'Amario. His rendition of Tanto is a first-rate heartbreak and I featured it recently. Here's his unforgettable El adiós:

• D'Arienzo and his 1950s and 1960s projects with Valdez and Palma: still the King of the Beat, he can be overwhelming at times, and it sounds like 100s of violins and bandoneons were sacrificed in the recording process... but still! Consider this miraculous milonga from 1962, sharp as an executioner's axe - I can barely hold myself from standing up and dancing just by myself when listening to it! Prometedora:

• Late Di Sarli and his magnificient, epochal achievements he made with Pomar, Durán, Florio - all his lyricism distilled into high-proof, super addictive substance that gets you drunk in a heartbeat. This is No la maldigas por Dios from 1958 - I purchased it on a private transfer made by Bernhard Gehberger, the proprietor of the excellent tango-dj.at community - and so can you, and in the process support his awesome work at keeping tango alive!

• Late Mr. Biagi, especially his collaboration with Hugo Duval - just like Di Sarli, he relaxed his tempos in the 1950s, resolved his nervousness, and delivered works of astounding precision and beauty.

• Pugliese's masterworks with Jorge Maciel, by far the highest peaks of lyricism that 1950s produced. Pugliese being Pugliese, some of them are safer for listening only; others work fantastically but only with careful timing and preparation. As an unabashed fan, who just loves it all, I have to restrain myself... For example, I only played this gem twice this year!

Of the 2010's orchestras, I reviewed a few of them this year and love them fiercely. They are the future of tango. The future might not look like what we would necessarily expect or want but such is the nature of future: if you could immediately describe it and convert it into physical matter, it would not be the future anymore, it would be the present. Let's keep up hearts open to be surprised, sometimes annoyed, then delighted and amused. As long as it's got the right beat, it's still tango!

I keep these bands on my front burner:

• Sexteto Cristal - I have a soft spot for German tango bands, and these guys are phenomenal! Their style is very noble, free of showmanship, restrained yet utterly professional. In the selection of songs they cover, you can trace back their influences all the way to Orquesta Típica Victor. I reviewed their début as well as their newest CDs.

• Orquesta Típica Andariega is in my eyes (or ears?) the most innovative band that plays for dancers. Luigi Coviello, their band-leader, is a gifted arranger with a recognizable signature. I reviewed their newest album as well as the album of their spin-off, Sexteto Andiamo. The vals featured below has consistently brought me accolades from dancers.

• Collectif Roulotte Tango, a phenomenal French ensemble whose only downside is that they don't make their music too easy to find online - you've got to purchase the CDs (and you should, as did I!). Many new bands are on Bandcamp but Roulette isn't. All their milonga covers are instant hits: elegant, stylish, and with a unique flair.

• Romantica Milonguera and Tango Bardo: they up the voltage to the max. Always over-the-top and endearing, they exploit the tango idioms to their maximum potential, only stopping a hair short of parody (but not overstepping). While dancing, I would find a prolonged exposure to their interpretation to be exhausting: they are best served as spice, not as the main dish, but boy, do they make for some tasty, super-hot spice!

Other new bands make less frequent but always appreciated appearances in my playlists. I love all of you guys. One of my goals for my 2020 productions (milongas that I organize) is to feature contemporary records as they appear on Bandcamp and elsewhere. Tango is alive!

People

You can't do tango alone, and I wouldn't want to!

I just renewed my subscription to Tango-DJ.at, already mentioned above. Bernhard's database is without peer, and he says he's going to make new releases in 2020, and so if you into collecting tango records, DJing, or want access to hard-to-get releases, a membership there is a no-brainer!

DJ's wouldn't have a frictionless, digital way to obtain the classical tango repertoire without Don Xellos and his TangoTunes, which I have not mentioned a lot previously but have frequented as a purchaser many times. My latest acquisition are vinyl transfers of Pugliese and Demare, which I can heartily recommend.

I am indebted to Thomas Kröter for his frequent inspiring posts, from which I have received many tips for new bands and whose writing I use to practice my still quite rudimentary German reading comprehension (Ich werde mich bessern!)

And finally, my warmest thanks to all the tangueras whose embraces I had the privilege to share in this wonderful year 2019! This is the reason why we do all of this, after all.

Tango is alive!

Why I built it this way

The tanda is designed to start on high note and develop lyrically towards a more serious, dramatic ending. It flows at a normal walking tempo around 60 BPM.

Porteño y bailarín (F-ma) opens the tanda for a good reason: it's familiar and cheerful. Originally, I planned it for the third position but ended up promoting it because of its slow end. While I sometimes put "hit songs" in non-headliner spots, the heuristic of putting them in the opening or closing positions has merit, and I'll stick to it here.

Así era mi novia (A-ma/mi) starts seductively in an unambiguously good mood, and so when it hits you with the lyrical alternating theme, it's quite a punch. Durán joins in in a major key again but the song then goes decidedly in the nostalgic, minor-key direction.

Soy el cantor de la orquesta (G-ma/E-mi) follows the same pattern: a joyous opening theme is contrasted with one that has darker undertones. As mentioned above, I originally planned to open with it, and I consider it to be a very strong opener overall. Here, it suits the plan as it ends on the minor key, and thus prepares the dancer for the strong lyrical closing.

Gracias (C-mi) has several strong renditions, among whose I especially love those of Maderna c. Orlando Verri and Biagi c. Carlos Saavedra. I will not pick favorites here: I love all of them.

I think that Jorge Durán was uniquely equipped to deliver the dark, dramatic message of this song, and the orchestra of Mr. Di Sarli enveloped his voice with such emotion that the next tanda better be cheerful! :) Despite the final chord, which alone rests in a major key, the song goes well beyond the region of nostalgia and into the world of pain. Or so it seems.

Usage

In my opinion, this tanda would best be served to dancers who have already warmed themselves up and became well connected to their partners. It has a near-infinite potential for intricate, restrained expression in a tight space of a full ronda. The emotions that it provokes cannot be readily consumed with a stranger.

Caveats and disclaimer

The YouTube playlist lacks clarity and precision. If you want to enjoy this at its full potential, you'll want to support the work of those who make faithful commercial transfers for purchase. Most of my Di Sarli catalogues until 1952 comes from TangoTunes while his later work I have from Euro Records CDs. You can't, and probably shouldn't, find the best transfers available for free on YouTube or anywhere, really.

image credit 7 SeTh on Unsplash

This week's tanda features light-footed, easygoing covers of beloved classics that have been stripped down of pathos and delivered as objects of pure enjoyment and fun.

Why I built it this way

Opening the tanda is Buscándote by El Cachivache Quinteto, one of very, very few Fresedo tunes that I love. It comes here decidedly relaxed and down-to-Earth. The key is F-major, normal walking tempo around 60 BPM. I chose it as the opener for two reasons: the melody is universally known and loved, and it sets the tone for things to come.

The production value of this video is stellar! I wish all new bands had the dedication (and budgets!) to do this regularly. After all, YouTube is where it's at!

Felicia as interpreted by Colectivo Tango Esquinas (reviewed before) is a lively, naughty affair. I adore the bass clarinets and saxophones here! They take to a playful ronda in a smoky pub where no dancer takes themselves too seriously. They key is D-minor and the tempo slightly faster at 62 BPM.

The Pavadita by Sexteto Fantasma is slightly more serious, and what connects it musically to the previous tunes is their use of less-traditional instruments such as trumpet and electric guitar, in addition to the required bandoneón, piano, etc. The key is A-minor alternating with C-major and the tempo is back to 60 BPM (not that you'd notice it).

I chose La melodía de nuestro adiós as recorded by Orquesta Caminito to close the tanda. It retains the essential lyrical qualities of the beloved tune while rendering it in a completely new light. Instead of a singer, we are musically led by a trumpet that sings beautifully throughout the song. The key is E-major alternating with E-minor and the tempo is pushed forward slightly to 63 BPM.

I believe it has the right qualities to server as the closer. Besides the merit of being built on a well-known melody, it has a certain quality, hard to put down in words, of providing closure. Make of it what you will.

BTW, if you're perplexed by the references to keys and tempos, you can review my article about why I care about creating harmonic constrast in my tandas. Inside baseball for sure, and not sufficient for making a good tanda, but it is one of the fundamentals of my on-stage work.

Usage

Any time I need to lighten the mood. For instance, last week's valses were rather melodramatic. If I felt like the people were getting too melancholic, I would play this tanda or similar.

Why I built it this way

Opening the tanda is arguably the strongest song, Angélica, which I would just as much loved to use as a closer. The key is a-minor and the tempo around 64 BPM, meaning it's just the right speed for most levels.

The YouTube video I've used has the lyrics in English, too, and they talk about what you'd expect: a memory of a rather impressive woman of this name. Jokes aside, it's a convincing lyrical masterpiece.

Maldito corazón opens in D-major in a slightly faster tempo, about 68 BPM. It is not a happy, vals, however; once Godoy arrives on the scene, the key switches to B-minor and stays there. He sings in a very agitated fashion and showcases his mastery without being showy - he's still very precise on the beat and guides the couple well.

I could not find its lyrics.

Inconveniently, the song has a slow, beat-less sung coda of about 10 seconds at the end. I don't generally like having a song with a slow end in the second-to-last place in any tanda, for the obvious reason that the dancers might think it's over. Here, luckily a few beats in the original tempo follow the coda to make a bridge to the last song.

Hermana returns to the mood of the opening tune, again in A-minor but with keeping the tempo of the preceding song. Frankly, I don't know what to make of the lyrics, even after using Google Translate. Most likely it's about one's sister who's no longer around. There's no ambivalence in its musical expression, however. The ending is strong and resolute.

Usage

I would use this tanda anytime I needed lyrical valses. Even though the recordings come from the later era, 1958-1961 to be exact, I would not hesitate to play them even in the first or second hour of a milonga. The beat is crisp and regular and the singing does not overwhelm you.

A larger dance floor would be a definite advantage. It would not be as satisfying to express these valses in a tight, space-limited ronda.

photo credit goes to Samantha Green

I just gave it my first listen-through, and you can preview it yourself on their website where they have clips of each song available. I encourage you to buy it as did I, for it's important to support our musicians who are keeping tango alive for us!

The following stands out immediately: all tracks are immensely danceable, played with great gusto and utmost professionalism. You'll be hard-pressed to find a missed note or an out-of-tune moment, everything is very precise. Not to the detriment of the dancer, however: the Sexteto is still playing for you to move in an embrace.

I am most impressed with the selection of milongas on this album. The lovely Cacareando has one "classical" interpretation by OTV, which is hard to get in an acceptable sound quality. Here it shines in all its intricate beauty, playful and seductive. I only felt a bit let down towards the end when I realized Rozenthuler would not be joining in. The instrumental arrangement is completely self-sustaining but I still missed the vocals here.

Another commendation goes for the inclusion of La milonga que hacia falta, a relative unknown only recorded by Miguel Villasboas. It's got a superb drive and "kick" in a still moderate tempo.

The third is La vida es una milonga, previously made immortal by Pedro Láurenz, whose recording is also quite difficult to obtain in an acceptable sound quality. Here, Rozenthuler comes in - and delivers. While I am very partial to Láurenz, I think that this version by Sexteto is most excellent. It might even be easier as it lacks Láurenz signature "nervousness" while retaining agility and drive.

The valses on this album venture into a better-mapped territory. Lágrimas y sonrisas keep it very close to the Biagi's version from 1941, including the piano riff towards the end where, just like Biagi, they are not quite able to keep the tempo and slow down by about 2 BPM :)

Quién será and La tapera are best known as recorded by Donato and they both received here a well-deserved modern rendering. I think that Rozenthuler is a great match here with his noble, gentlemanly style of singing.

The eponymous La loca de amor goes in a different direction than Biagi's classic, opening with legatos and being generally way more rounded. I found this instrumental arrangement simply irresistible.

There are four instrumental and three vocal tangos on this album, and one might have to reach for their debut CD to make consistent tandas, although it's still too early for me to draw definite conclusions here.

Three instrumentals in Di Sarli style don't really have an obvious fourth companion from the first CD: El amanecer, Shusheta, and Siete palabras. All three are approaching Di Sarli's style with respect and technical mastery. To make a full tanda, I'd probably include Comme il faut by Pablo Valle Sexteto or something in this direction.

Their Pavadita is temperamental, accented, and realizes the full potential of this tune. I'll admit that I have not yet heard De Angelis' version from 1958 while being already familiar with, among others, two other very distinct recordings: one by Sexteto Fantasma, which is just hilarious - totally disrespectful yet lovable, another by Tango Bardo, who are going overboard with the accents and just "milking it" to the extreme. Cristal is in my view closest to what the author might have meant.

We've made our way to the three remaining songs on this album, all vocal.

No te apures, Carablanca has two competing Golden Age renditions: that by Troilo/Fiorentino and by Demare/Miranda. Tough teams to beat. Personally, I favor Demare of the two. Then there are two modern interpretations I love: Quarteto Sol Tango did it as an instrumental, and Alex Krebs invited Vicente "El Cartucho" Griego to give his version a phenomenal "flamenco" ending.

Sexteto Cristal delivers a rounded, romantic arrangement with Rozenthuler's expression being somewhat reserved. I felt like I wanted to experience more emotion, more drama than I was receiving. This is meant as a statement of personal preference only; the sexteto is in their usual top form here.

Dos fracasos might have been even more of a challenge as there's the immortal rendition by Miguel Caló c. Alberto Podestá, and this one is available in great transfers, e.g. from TangoTunes.

Their rendering is true to Caló's, and as such invites obvious comparing. The listener either accepts that Rozenthuler sings differently from Podestá, or doesn't. Admittedly, I'm trying to resolve an internal conflict here: I love Podestá the most from all classical-era singers, and I also want to cheer new bands when they deserve it, and the Sexteto does! Perhaps I should limit myself to writing that Rozenthuler is himself here: clean, rounded, and noble.

Finally, there's Ríe, payaso. You might know it from the recording by D'Arienzo c. Carlos Casares, and is indeed close to their interpretation. Fast, punchy, and unlike Silbando's not totally overblown (although admittedly I am hoping to be able to use their version someday, too). It will make for a great closer in a D'Arienzo-revival tanda.

In summary, this is a phenomenal CD and will make it easier for me as DJ to make Cristal-only tandas. I can only hope that they will keep recording as I find their music to be immensely danceable and popular in milongas where I play it.

Latter-days Ángel Vargas is one of obsessions I developed in 2019, and this tanda comes from the years of his partnership with Eduardo Del Piano. If my reading of his bio is correct, Del Piano made many arrangements for D'Agostino's orchestra, and so I'm finding their collaboration to have been an organic offshoot of  what the two Ángels did together.

Why I built it this way

Tanto has the strongest, most urgent lyrical charge, and I use it as a closer on other occasions.

In this tanda, however, I wanted to also include Adiós, Arolas, and I can only imagine that as a closer. So there.

Perdón viejita comes second, and is very serious and dark as well. It's got a bit more energy, as expressed by the underlying beat, while still offering many opportunities to rest in a melancholic embrace... if that's your thing... and I suppose it is, otherwise you'd sit this one out!

Amigazo provides a well-deserved rest, opening optimistically with major chords. As I said previously, I don't like to stack four darker themes in one tanda without any respite. This tune still has a lyrical alternating theme in A minor, so it's not all roses to be sure.

Adiós, Arolas closes the tanda with what I hope to be a place of reconciliation. It's a song composed as a remembrance to the tango composer Eduardo Arolas. As a dancer, I'd most enjoy this tune with a partner with whom I've already developed some relationship and can venture into subtle steps and details of movement.

Usage

This music paints on a large canvas with pastel colors and requires focus and musicality. I feel like I can only play it when I've captured my audience 100% and they aren't distracted by off-ronda entertainment like talking and drinking. Then they'll be rewarded.

Other times, when this is not the case, I'll throw in Pugliese with Maciel and just drown them in emotion.

It'll usually be later in the evening when they've gotten closer together emotionally and want to go on a more intricate adventure.

Why I build it like this

I chose Paciencia for the opener: the theme is universally known and loved, and its implementation, although not canonical, is catchy more than enough.

14 de diciembre lightens up the mood; it is playful and comfortable while keeping the energy going.

The third place is where I built the lyrical peak of the tanda: Una carta. It has lyricism, drama, and a strong ending.

I end with El vino triste. While it mixes upbeat passages with darker ones, in my mind it provides a more balanced resolution. In most cases, I want my tandas to be multi-colored and not overly dramatizing or, God forbid, desperate.

Usage

I use late D'Arienzo sparingly and with passion. It has so much energy I want to be cautious about when to use it. This tanda comes with  Horacio Palma, an expressive singer with dominating but not overbearing presence.

In a typical milonga, I would play this in the latter hours at a point when the dancers needed good beats after a prolonged lyrical session and if I felt like they could handle it.

Yes, the danger is that they wouldn't, and that they would destroy the ronda as a result. Mature audience is required :)

Indeed, they are a band that plays primarily for the dancers. They've got the beat, the flow, the character that prompts you off your chair and onto the dance floor.

I mean, would you sit this one out?

The accordion is the star of their arrangements, and yet the other musicians don't just provide the background. You'll hear the cello rising to the occasion and complementing the melody just as capably. In Palomita blanca, violin joins in occassionally with virtuoso riffs.

For this review, I listened to the canonical versions of the tunes present. Thito Amantte is in a good company here: D'Arienzo, Láurenz, Canaro among others. The band is respectful to your expectations - as in, what you would expect the song to sound like - and innovating mostly by their instrumentation.

In the rhythmical tunes, the accordion makes them sound folksy, as if played in a smoky pub, without sacrificing any technical quality - all notes land where they should, and there is plenty of them!

In El cencerro as in Ataniche, for instance, the on-beat accents are always there, providing plenty of assistance even to the musically-challenged leader. And yet the arrangement is anything but simple, with Amantte somehow managing to sneak in plenty notes, plenty music :)

In Inspiración, the accordion becomes a majestic lyrical force, rendering Peregrino Paulos's classic with moving enthusiasm.

I was curious how will Amantte come out vis-a-vis Pedro Láurenz, whose bandoneón is so unforgettable in Orgullo criollo and Amurado. While Láurenz sounds hurried, agitated, almost unable to contain his genius, Amantte here is more grounded. That's good, because you don't want to compete by imitation! I felt that his rendering was technically masterful and, because of the rhythmical grounding, perhaps even more suitable for the average dance-floor. Let's be honest here, Láurenz can be challenging to the dancers.

The valses are swift and delightful. The staples Palomita blanca and Corazón de artista are complemented by La pulpera de Santa Lucía., which, according to the Tango-DJ Database, has just one Golden Age rendition, that by Castillo / Alessio. I'm always thrilled when contemporary bands make a cover of a great tune that is not yet played to the death.

It's a similar story with the milongas on this album. The over-played Silueta porteña comes in a respectable arrangement, but hey, it's really hard to stand out on this particular field. La milonga de Buenos Aires brings a little more flair, but what really tops the others is the wonderful El barrio del tambor. Thito Amantte brings out his voice and is joined by another singer, Juan Pablo Cartabia. Towards the end of the track, three tambourines cook the dance-floor tender to the point of melting. Lovely!!

This album has no weaknesses - Thito Amantte has showcased the best of what his band offers. I would take his valses and milongas into dedicated tandas without hesitation. The tangos would take a little more work as we have a here a mix of varying stiles - from the straightforward beat of Ataniche to the more lyrical Ensueños and Una emoción. A challenge that a DJ will appreciate.

On a technical note, the DJ has to take care of a few songs that have a special ending. After the tune completes, the band continues with an unrelated melody that sounds like a cortina, with ambient sound of a half-filled bar. One would have to cut that out for milonga use.

Overall, this album brings a fresh look at the standard tango repertoire, focusing primarily on the needs of the dancers and being original in the right way - mindful of the tradition and also by the fact that we can't and shouldn't want to re-create the memories of 1940s eighty years later without any regard to the present. Bravo!

PS

Almost forgot: the graphical production of the CD is phenomenal! There's an insert with summary information about each track, accompanied by colorful illustrations by Veronika Wunschova. I have not seen a tango CD produced this well in a long time.

The album is made up of ten songs, all instrumentals, three of which are original compositions and two of them we're hearing for the first time. The eponymous Gira Gira is an instrumental remake of Coviello's vals, which we've first met on the album Andiamo by Orquesta Típica Andariega.

Coviello's arrangements are always clever, distinct, and there is no "red line". He is not afraid to take a tune to a completely new direction. Jamas retornarás, for example, keeps the basic elements recognizable but throws out all Caló's pathos and seriousness.

Same with Quiero verte una vez más. The introduction of the theme is maximum staccato, a bullet show. It only comes back later in the legato form.

Caricias received a more reserved treatment. The mood is still lyrical and the bandoneon sings beautifully after the staccato introduction by the violins.

Of the remakes, Buscándote shines the brightest. The staccatos are kept in check, the mood is relaxed and happy as it should be. The arrangement has the most fidelity without being slavish.

Of the original tunes, I want to highlight the milonga Nácar. It has the right milonga signature beat, a distinct idea that it develops to its potential, and is catchy in the right way - in that it prompts you to dance.

The album has the qualities to source DJ sets. The tempos are all just right as are the durations, never exceeding three minutes. Whether or not you want to take the chance depends on how open-minded your audience is regarding unfamiliar arrangements.

If there's one area where the band could improve, it's the violins. Often they are not in tune together, especially in the higher registers. It's not yet painful but a discerning listener will take notice.

Having said that, I believe that the quality and originality of the arrangements and the band's dedication to producing music for dancing more than make up for it. There are not that many bands that have both a distinct sound and all the danceability of the old masters. Sexteto Andiamo does.

These two Argentinian orchestras present very different approaches to tango tradition. While Romantica goes all-in on every phrase, over-emphasizing and overdoing and over-kitsching in its lovely way, Andariega goes the other way.

They remake old tunes with varying degree of fidelity but always with care and precision. They come up with original compositions of their own. Most importantly, seem to care about the dancer all the time.

The arrangements by Luigi Coviello, the band leader, punch many holes in the fabric of well-known tunes, as if spraying them over with a submachine gun. Then, he patches the holes and paints over them with unfamiliar patterns.

Margarita Gauthier, for example, is unrecognizable from the canonical version by Troilo. There are hints of the tune's signature here and there, but overall, it's very much a new composition. It stands on its own even without a singer, compelling the dancer to venture into an unexplored territory. An adventure beckons.

Trenzas, opening the album, is truer to the original while by no means a slave to it. Martinez delivers a powerful lyrical statement, and the orchestra supports here with more legatos than usual.

She then goes on to sing on Un giorno ti dirò, a tango arrangement of this lyrical gem. I find it very convincing.

Her last appearance on the album is on Al compás del corazón, which Andariega already recorded as an instrumental. I strongly prefer the vocal version. The orchestra is doing many staccatos and shoot through the melody with abandon; it's Martinez who is in charge of delivering the theme.

If there's one charge I'd have against Andariega, it's that they are using singers too sparingly. In many recordings, a singer would help bridge the gap between an innovative and sometimes alien arrangement and the expectations of the more traditionally minded dancers.

No matter how hard I try, I miss the singer in Remembranza. Not because the arrangement is sparse or boring: quite the contrary, they sell you plenty of notes. My inner traditionalist just wants to realize the lyrical potential of this song while dancing to it, and that is very hard to do  without a singer.

I could say the same about Mañana zarpa un barco, catchy and attractive as it may otherwise be. Or with Solamente ella, although there I'm already on the fence as I love the instrumental rendition by Alex Krebs, and Andariega shines here, too, albeit in its own way.

Enough of my complaining, though. I respect the artist and the path they've chosen. And one should probably respect it even more when they contradict the established assumptions, as long as the creation is not self-evidently narcissistic.

The album contains a few original pieces, of which I would like to highlight the eponymous Avanti. It showcases most of Andariega's idiosyncracies and is at the same time playful and lyrical.

The inclusion of instrumental covers of Buonasera and Lontano valses, which they have recorded on the previous album Andiamo with the singer Fabián Villalón, is welcome should a need arise for an instrumental vals tanda; that said, I am enamored by the vocal versions and will not give them up.

One last note goes to the milonga Ella es así, which closes the album. It is by far the most original rendition I've heard to date: very playful, very original, very Andariega. So much so that I don't yet know what to mix it with, and I do want to play it for my dancers soon.

This album has ended a drought of new tango music releases on Bandcamp, and I should add that while you can listen to it for free there in its entirety, you should buy it if you like it. I purchase all music that I review here, and then some I don't review beause I end up not liking it so much. The artists need our support.

Today, I'm reviewing their newest album, Orchestra Esquinas, from 2018.

Esquinas are one of the most original ensembles I've had the fortune to come upon, and their originality is heart-felt and not at all ironic or hipster-ish. Even though it might still offend staunch conservatives in our circles.

The reason for their unique sound lies in their selection of instruments. Melody is carried by clarinets and a saxophone, the bandoneón is replaced by the more mundane accordion. There's no piano and no violins; instead, a guitar, mostly relegated to support the beat provided by the double bass.

The group claims they care about the dancers, and I believe them. The tempos are in the comfortable walking-beat zone, very regular and dependable. And their arrangements, as much as they sound unique due to their instrumentation, bring forward the intention of the score.

They play with gusto and yet without any trace of pretense. And when you first hear the clarinets singing, you'll find yourself grinning pretty quickly. It's not a joke but five beautiful, talentful people playing for your dancing enjoyment. And after the tanda, let's drink some good wine and smoke a cigarette!

Of the twelve tracks on the album, only one is not for dancing - the band paid the Piazolla tax, and included a rendering of Oblivion.

Another is borderline - Alfonsiny y el Mar, a non-tango song in a slow 3/4 beat, a background story of which is allegedly the suicide of an Argentine poet Alfonsina Storni. I could imagine dancing to it in a neo-tango setting, perhaps.

The rest is a straight dancefloor set. Included are tangos Felicia, Gallo ciego, Los mareados, Zorro gris, Quiero verte una vez más, and milongas Reliquias porteñas and Milonga sentimental.

Yes, with Quiero verte una vez más it's hard to get over the feeling of blasphemy being committed. It is very, very far from Lomuto's massive lyrical statement, downplaying it with comical detachment.

Depending on how fond you are of the canonical versions, you might nonplussed by their Gallo ciego as well. Personally, I like more masculine, forceful approaches to this tune.

I love their slower milongas and could imagine putting a tango tanda together from just this album. More likely, though, I would mix them with one or more bands that take a similar (relaxed, pub-like) approach to tango to obtain more variety. Alex Kreb's bands come to mind first, and perhaps La Tubatango or Chifladas Tango as well.

Admittedly this is the first album of Esquinas I've heard, and I am going to dive into what they'd recorded prior to it. I can always use new fun songs to lighten up my playlists!

One side says it's difficult, decadent, and not as much fun to dance to than the Golden Age repertoire. The counter is that the songs have more "(d)epth and emotional intensity", as Warren Edwardes writes.

Your tango is not my tango, and I am not arguing that either side is right or wrong. There's enough space for everyone. And I concur with Warren that tango DJs should be "more individualistic and branded themselves as such according to their musical bent" (ibid.)

As it happens, the 50s are the focus of my current exploration phase, and I have collected a few CDs in the past weeks that have pleased me immensely. Among others, a CTA albums of Roberto Caló and Eduardo del Piano, the RCA anthology of late Ángel Vargas titled "El Ruiseñor de Buenos Aires Vol. 3", and the subject of this article, album "Rodolfo Biagi con Hugo Duval 1956/1961 - Archivo Columbia (EU-18008)".

I think Biagi is a good gateway drug to the 1950s. If I were to nudge a recalcitrant "traditionalist" towards newer music, I could very well start with this album.

It has musical qualities necessary to fill a good ronda:

• regular, clear, and comfortable walking beat with most songs clocking at 62BPM
• a combination of characteristic Biagi staccatos that provide a constant drive to move forward with melodic expression that goes straight to the heart
• most songs follow the major/minor pattern in tonalities, and so even a very lyrical song will have a contrasting theme that is upbeat

The last point is very important. Given that the 50s music is very charged lyrically, the dancers can end up emotionally exhausted at the end of the tanda. Think of Varela with Lessica from the same period.

That's not the case here. The emotional range is wide and rich but not over-powering.

Biagi used a pallete that is rich in the elegant and joyous tones. En el lago azúl, Amor mío, *Soñemos *leave a smile on your face.

There's a few songs that are darker, such as the iconic Espérame en el cielo. Many others fill you with a heartrending mood but wrap or interleave it with lighter themes. Note the "Ave Maria" coda in Ayúdame.

The album is a rich well of many tandas with no weak tunes. The exception might be the adorable vals Ramona and only due to its rather slow beat.

Here's a tanda I played at a milonga in Görlitz last Sunday:

• Mi vida en tus manos
• En el lago azúl
• Espérame en el cielo
• Ayúdame

Starting with resolute, upbeat notes, I lead my dancers through the darkness of Espérame en el cielo and to the resolution provided by Ayúdame. Next time I want to try a purely upbeat tanda and compare the effects.

Before I close, I want to address the "elephant in the room", so to speak, and that elephant is Mr. Biagi himself and his earlier work.

In his book "Tango stories - Musical secrets", Michael Lavocah writes on page 84:

"In 1956 Biagi switched to Colombia where he recorded 20 more tracks, before recording a final LP on Music Hall in 1962. This period is quite forgettable - be careful because Hugo Duval is still on board."

Respectfully, I quite disagree with this assertion. We must conclude, however, that the late Biagi sound is a departure from his formative years. And if you prefer those, then it follows you might be unhappy with this development.

Consider the well-appreciated Yuyo verde with Ortiz from 1945:

And then play back the opening track Mi vida en tus manos from the playlist above again.

Gone are the nervous ticks and off-beat accents that used to be all over the place. Biagi "straightened up" yet retained his characteristic charge. He made much more space for melody and no longer chopped it up with the incessant staccatos.

The technical quality of the newer recording is better. And this lets Hugo Duval shine. You can only enjoy Ortiz, Amor, and the rest of Biagi's earlier singers through the veil of scratches and squeaks. Duval had the fortune of better recording technology, and we benefit from that.

Still, even if you are fond of Biagi's Golden Age repertoire as I am, I urge you to open your mind to Biagi's mature phase. There's an abundance of emotions re-live in the embrace on the dance floor, with the steps being calmer and slower than before.

Orquesta Romantica Milonguera did just that, and if I had any complaint at all it would be that I don't see how to make a coherent tanda of the four songs in their mini-album they released a short while ago on Bandcamp.

Included are covers of:

• If I fell
• In my life
• And I love her
• For no one

The first and third are midtempo affairs executed in a fashion reminiscent of Sassone, with the violins playing prolonged notes and bandoneons chirping along. The second and last are rather fast and are closer to late D'Arienzo in style. As such they do not mesh particularly well.

As it happens, Romantica Milonguera have not recorded many instrumentals to date; the only one outside this album that I have is Porteñisimo, a cover of Caló's piece.

Given that the tempos and general vibe are similar, I could imagine mixing *Porteñisimo *with In my life and For no one, particularly if the hour is late, however that still leaves one open spot I can't fill at the moment. Romantica Milonguera has a particular sound, one that is very expressive, borderline kitschy, and never yielding; I don't have any other new orchestra in my library I would mix with theirs.

Never mind, though: with the rate of output they produce and its consistent quality, I am hopeful they'll release other covers soon that will complete my tandas.

I will not comment on how I think they have re-interpreted the Beatles originals. I could stand to only listen to the first one in its primary incarnation, and I could barely hold my finger off the Stop button. The cover is much more palatable to me, and very, very different.

This is Romantica Milonguera: they play everything the way they want to, and for all intents and purposes, these have become Romantica Milonguera songs. Always at 100% energy, maximum vibratos, maximum force while always appealing to the heart.

You could question whether that's a good thing or not. Personally, I like when an orchestra has a clear signature.

Plays The Beatles won't add much more to a DJ's repertoire besides a little joke at the moment, however it's solid in terms of execution and if complemented by future releases could contribute to widening the standard repertoire.

Whether it's desirable to do the widening by appropriating pop songs from other genres can be debated. My take is that tango was the popular music of its time and still is a genre of "easy listening, easy to dance to."

And it this space, Romantica Milonguera delivers 100% of the time.

It may appear that I only care about the present but it is not so: I am deeply invested in the tango tradition. D'Arienzo's Ansiedad with Alberto Echagüe still moves me tremendously as it did when I first played it seven years ago.

At the same time, I am very keen on finding proof that tango can live on in this century.

There's a certain contradiction here, in that tango can be perceived as as longing for the times long gone, and cannot therefore live in the present, let alone be open to the future.

I'm basing this assertion on the observable fact that traditional milongas rooted in the 1940s represent the vast majority of the action in my corner of Europe. I've danced in Germany, Holland, Portugal, and Latvia, among others, to the pretty much the same playlist.

You could argue that this derives from the vast quantity of repertoire from the 1940s, or that only then was tango really danced the way it's meant to, and I am open to that argument.

Still, it seems to me that a psychological argument is also viable: that some people want to mentally travel back in time and that tango gives them this escapist opportunity.

I will argue that it's a bad idea to promote this feeling, and that we can replace it with a more generic idea, one that is associated with the same emotions but not bound to a specific time and place. We do not live in Buenos Aires in the 1940s.

Canaro's was a contemporary orchestra once. I wonder what his dancers felt when moving along the ronda to his tunes. Were they looking backwards into a (hypothetical) "golden age" of the 1800s, or simply enjoying the present?

We don't know but he is not our contemporary. Today, dancing to "Mi musa campera", recorded Wednesday, October 31, 1934, our emotional response is not based on how we feel in 2019.

It can, however, represent how we want to feel, which is to say, it can move us to look backwards to the imaginary "golden age" of the past sufficiently distant such that we can romanticize it.

This brings about a conflict when we attempt to re-interpret tango today: with contemporary recording technology, technical skills of musicians, and influences of what's happened in music since, there's no way a new tango recording can strike the same note.

Nor should it.

There has to be some definition of tango that is open to exploration and interpretation again and again, fairly specific in what it seeks but unbounded from its origins.

I bring you Orquesta Típica Andariega with Todo te nombra:

This is a cover of Canaro's tune, respectful yet original in arrangement and execution. Never mind the video: it feels modern on its own and yet provokes similar movements on the dance floor.

Emotionally, it is playful (the staccatos are even sharper than Biagi's!) and it is longing for something. This feeling of want coupled with the occasional joke might be what defines tango emotions. Perhaps a bit of regret or loss but not too much.

I believe that this is the way forward: keeping the tango heart firmy in its place and evolving musically. And when new compositions come to life, even better!

Finding and defining the unchanging spirit of tango in music from the times past and present is important to keep it alive and prosperous. It's the jobs of DJs, educators, and organizers; the milongueros want to simply have fun. If we fail and keep feeding them the "safe" repertoire, they won't blame us!

Our failure to do so will have a twofold negative impact. It will keep many young people away, since the squeaky scratchy sound of shellacs is a real barrier for newcomers, and it will discourage musicians from creating. And where do we end up then, if not in a walled garden and, ultimately, a retirement home!

PS

This has originally started as an opinion piece in which I wanted to explore the boundaries of tango - what music can still claim to carry the tango spirit, however contemporary it sounds - and I found out that I had to first face the question about what tango is in the first place. I don't know that I have succeeded, and I will keep trying; as for the boundaries, these I will have to mark later.

PPS

One of the impulses I had for writing this was reading a post by Thomas Kröter, Lieber lebend. And it reminds me I need to get a blogroll up here!

Their new release "Sin palabras" has only been out since early January, and I have already included a few tracks from the album in my 2019 sets. It's magical.

The music is packaged into six tandas of three, with one mixed milonga tanda, one mixed vals tanda, and four tango tandas in the arrangements of grand masters Troilo, Pugliese, Demare, and Salgán.

The album opens with instrumental covers of heart-wrenching Troilo arrangements of Sin palabras, Yo te bendigo, and María. The quartett has to do without a singer, and they don't need one. Each plays a distinct role in the masterfully woven polyphony, and they only ever meet in unisons to underscore a point.

The presence of cello in the lineup gives the band a distinct sound that makes mixing with a different ensemble a challenge.

And mix we must since the tango tandas have only three songs each. When I first played them, I chose not to mix bands and instead put one of the "Troilo-style" pieces into the Demare tanda thusly:

• Alhucema
• María <-- alien!
• Igual que un bandoneón
• No te apures, cara blanca

I think it only worked because by the time No te apures, cara blanca began squeezing people's hearts, they already forgot the slightly mis-matching second song.

The Demare arrangements are the absolute best what the album offers. Peak lyricism while being respectful to the original. Yes, they bested the old master in his own game.

Just like Cuarteto Tanguero that I reviewed earlier, these guys are so professional they could easily fall into the "concert music" trap were it not for their dedication to play for dancers.

I'm not pretending to read their minds; I'm simply judging the effects of their music on my body.

The only part of the album that I suspect is less suitable for dancing is the closing Salgán tanda. Admittedly, I think so because Salgán's own orchestra seems to me to be unusable on the dance floor. His music sounds disconnected from the feet, too self-absorbed and complex for the sake of being complex.

The milonga tandas mixes arrangements of Láurenz, Demare, and D'Arienzo while being surprisingly cohesive:

• La vida es una milonga
• Carnavalito | Quebradeño
• Estampa de varón

The tempos are nearing the danger zone, 110+ BPM by my count, and the dancer has to shorten his steps considerably. There are no unwanted surprises, however: the songs flow in their original arrangements and provide sufficient rhythmical guidance.

The vals tanda, on the other hand, does not mesh that well, although individually all three songs have merit. We have here: Una triste verdad, arr. Francini-Pontier, Ilusión marina, arr. Pugliese, and Violetas, arr. Alessio. Starting at 63 BPM, we end up with the impossibly fast 82 BPM in Violetas.

Don't take me wrong, the music is beautiful. And I love Violetas to the death; esp. in their canonical version with Castillo. On a typical milonga night, I'd just be afraid to play a song this fast.

As for the Pugliese tanda, we find here three iconic pieces that the quartett made their own:

• Pastoral
• Raza criolla | El taita
• El refrain

Their rendition of El refrain comes closest to what I associate with the Pugliese sound, with its heavy beats and sharp accents that come a millisecond later than you'd expect.

The other depart from the tradition in that they attenuate Pugliese's signature beats and instead choose to flow in a more melodic fashion. The difference is stark when compared to, for instance, the way Tango Bardo feasts on Pugliese's De Floreo. I find it refreshing.

In summary, this is a top-notch album that proves tango is alive and well in Europe and you don't need to have the Argentine passport to create danceable tango music in the 21st century. Well done!