Had a rough night last night, drank a little more than I should have and of course I had to work this morning. So I went to bed at around 2 a.m. and woke up at 6, ahead of my 7 a.m. alarm.
I tried to listen to the new Bon Iver on the ride to work but it didn't really help to use my headphones with a throbbing headache, so I turned to Afrocubism.
If it was a religion, I would follow it blindly. It could be a philosophy but it's vaguer that all the others. At most, it can be the beginning of a whole new genre. Of course as the liner notes on this album say, the mixing of Cuban and African rhythms aren't something new, however, the collaborations in this album turn those cross-cultural influences into something that has really never been heard before.
It was the perfect Sunday morning cure for a hangover, listening to an instrumental version of Guantanamera that traded the repetitive rhythms into a slow-burning guitar-driven African blues song. I had it on repeat as a I made my way across Fort Myers on a nearly empty U.S. 41.
On my way home from work, I succumbed to the rest of the album and it's vibrant melding of the Cuban Son and Toumani Diabaté's Malian guitar while Buena Vista Social Club member Eliades Ochoa's weathered voice echoed the ailments of fool who should have know when to quit.
I felt much better.
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