In the space to the right, I have translated the Spanish words interspersed in the body of the poem. You see that the “mezcla” (blending) of languages is done in a brilliant fashion and produces a result that cannot be replicated in any single language. Clearly, the poet felt it important to tell the story in this way, and a true artist must have the integrity to tell it in the way that it must be told. The blending of cultures and languages is also essential for telling the story of the two subjects of the poem (i.e., the artist, Raúl Valdez and the mural) because they share the same cultural underpinnings. It is this same dynamic that I attribute to Santana and other artists who approach music in a similar way.

Songs by Chicano/Latino artists many times include this intricate and seamless switching between languages and cultural references. Sometimes the changes are contained within an entire album or, as with the above poem, within one single composition. At times, the exploration of these cultural and linguistic elements happen as the musical career of an individual artist or band evolves over time. True art articulates truth or perceived truths about life and about the individual(s) attempting to convey these truths or perceptions of truth. A person who makes music their career will at some point have to grapple with anything and everything that they encounter in their insights and insides. And if a person finds diversity inside, then the art they create will necessarily be a reflection of that diversity. Otherwise, the communication will not feel real or complete.

Doing It Chicano Style

I pondered for a long time about what group to highlight for mixing language and styles like Raul Salinas did in the above poem: Lalo Guerrero, Freddy Fender, Dr. Loco’s Rockin’ Jalapeno Band, Conjunto Aztlan, Chicano Blues Man - Randy Garibay, etc. It came down to Los Lonely Boys vs Randy Garibay (RIP) because they tend more than the others towards rock ‘n roll, with Los Lonely Boys (LLB) having a decidedly harder edge. I also really couldn’t pick between the two, so I’m selecting one album from Garibay (Chicano Blues Man) and two albums from Los Lonely Boys (their self-titled debut album and Sacred) because of the variety and quality of the compositions. I’ll start with a few techniques used by both artists. They both include tunes featuring harmonica (“Home” by LLB and “To the Bone” by Garibay) and accordion (“Texican Style” by LLB and “I’d Give Anything if I Could Be in Texas” by Garibay). “I’d Give Anything I Could to Be in Texas” by Garibay is done in a country-western style as is “Outlaw” by LLB. They both use a slow cha-cha-cha rhythm for “I Never Met a Woman” (LLB) and “You’ve Lost that Loving Feeling” (Garibay). On “You’ve Lost that Loving Feeling” by Garibay, you have to wait for the chorus to hear the 4/4 beat change to the Cuban rhythm.

They both do a great job of playing AND singing the rockin’ tunes and playing AND singing the sensual ones. You don’t find that kind of vocal prowess very often. If attempted by a male blues singer, it usually sounds like a blues singer singing a love song (i.e., super throaty and scratchy, like sandpaper). The rockin’ tunes for Garibay are “To the Bone,” “Cabeza,” and “Mean Ass Woman,” and for LLB, I’ll offer “Senorita,” “Real Emotions,” “My Way,” and “Oye Mamacita.” In more of a crooner style, LLB impresses on “More than Love,” “Velvet Sky,” and “La Contestacion” while Garibay shines on “You’ve Lost that Loving Feeling,’ “Funny Not Much,” “Que Me Puede Ya Importar,” and “Movida.” When you consider the albums as a unit, all you can do is marvel at the depth of the artistry that is shared. To say that the range of styles is vast is an understatement, but to delve more deeply would require several more pages of writing. Instead I’ll share a few highlights.

Although there is no denying that both of these bands are blues bands, the cultural background/interests of both groups of artists are woven expertly and seamlessly throughout the entire albums in complex ways. The Spanish language comes across as a critical element: some songs have only a word or phrase in Spanish, some have a Spanish chorus, some are all in Spanish, some are songs traditionally sung in Spanish that are performed in English and some are songs traditionally sung in English that are performed in Spanish. Latin rhythms add a unique element to the tapestry: cha-cha-cha, bolero, cumbia, salsa, etc. Yet somehow, the albums don’t seem disjointed. It is the subject matter tackled in the lyrics that we easily identify as having a blues character, providing the cohesion that would otherwise make these albums seem more of a parody of the blues than an authentic representation of the blues.

From a cultural point of view, Garibay’s “Cabeza” stands out. The word itself is in Spanish and means “head.” Before the rock ‘n rollers, especially, let their imaginations start running away with them, it refers to a cow’s head and, specifically, a favorite Mexican dish made from anything and everything from a cow’s head called “barbacoa.” The chorus says it all, “we like tongue and brains.” These component parts were most certainly parts of the “cabeza” that were included in the mashed up version of this dish we enjoyed back in “El Valle” in the days of my youth. Now, a barbacoa taco only has the cheeks. Other parts must be purchased separately. My grandpa’s, Abuelo Tomas’, favorite part was the eyes and my mom’s favorite part were “los cezos” (the brains). I just ate it and tried not to think about the component parts. I’d just focus on the fact that it tasted so good! It is a dish I highly recommend!

The Latino-ness that is conveyed by Garibay and LLB is not of a traditional Latin American culture, but truly a Mexican-American culture, a background that I share with them. I’ll call it a Chicano culture or Chicano sensibility. It is an identity and lifestyle that emerges when you have a cultural and historical background that is shunned by the society around you and that you, either by force or as a survival mechanism, must find a way to deal with if you are going to successfully navigate life. What emerges from the melding of histories and cultures is something unique, as was evident in the poem by Raul Salinas that I shared earlier. Chicanos draw not just from the English and Spanish languages but also from indigenous languages. Chicanos must reconcile not only American and European ways of thinking and behaving but also indigenous views of the world and our relationship to it. All of this is in our blood (our genetic code), on top of the social and cultural environment in which we are enveloped. There is a beauty to this “mezcla” (mixture) but often times it creates a conflict of identity as well as a conflict between what our gut tells us is important and what American culture tells us is important.

The blues for African-Americans and for those who are drawn to its art form, like Garibay and LLB, provide a way to deal with these conflicts in culture and priorities and helps us to acknowledge that we are not alone in having to deal with all of this cr@p. There is a mourning that comes across in the blues because of the struggle for survival that so many have had to endure for so many years, but it is combined with an appreciation of life. The Creator has given us this gift of life. Although we mourn the difficulties that we and/or those around us must endure, we must also rejoice for this life and the realization that the mundane things of this world are not what truly matters. So, my view of the blues is that it represents both mourning and rejoicing but not always in very literal or obvious ways. This is, after all, how messages are typically transmitted via art.

Most of the Garibay and LLB songs I’ve mentioned before have dealt with the rejoicing part of the equation (even in the “love that was lost” kind of songs, since there is still the rejoicing in having had the special experience of being in love). In the Garibay and LLB albums that I am highlighting, the mourning or frustration comes across in Garibay’s “Still Singing the Blues” and “Chicano USA” and in LLB’s “Orale,” “One More Day,” and “Living My Life.” In “Chicano USA,” Garibay talks about fighting for his country in Vietnam and coming home only to find that discrimination is still pointed at him regardless of the medals he earned and the sacrifice he made to this country. He states that the “pat on the back” turned into “a kick in the ass.” But, in the song and in life, he refuses to deny his culture and heritage. He’ll defend his family and his culture at all costs, and he’ll even defend this country again if the need arises.

For being so young at the time of writing the songs in the album, Sacred, Los Lonely Boys sure do a good job of mapping out the preferred posture when it comes to dealing with adversity. While the details are a little vague regarding any specific adverse situations, it is not really necessary. Things are messed up out there for so many people, and, if you don’t see it, then you’re not paying attention. LLB talk about “knowing love,” “knowing pain,” “hearts a breakin’” and “lives being taken,“ but they still keep their heads up, pointed up at the sky. It is hard to see a way forward when you’re looking down and not looking to see if there is a path you can take. Even if there is no existing path, a new path can always be carved.

To me, the song, “Orale,” brings it all home. The word, “orale,” is an awesome word. It can be used in so many circumstances and convey so many different attitudes depending on the situation. It is almost as versatile as the “f” word, without causing the shocked reaction that people have to the use of that particular word. Orale, ostensibly, means “allright then” or “o.k. let’s do this.” It can convey: understanding (Orale. I get it, now. I understand); the acknowledgement of a response (So, are we going to do this? Yes. Orale!); and defiance or fearlessness (Oh, you want a piece of me? Orale! Let’s go!). In the song by LLB, what is being defied is the adversity of life: “Don’t need no more hurting. Don’t need no more crying. Hey, everything is alright, so I say “Orale.”

I will end this section with a focus on Garibay and the concept of gratitude, which comes across in several songs on the featured album. By the time he recorded Chicano Blues Man, he most likely had already been diagnosed with cancer. Several songs here pay homage to many things of importance to him. In “Fender Bender,” he pays tribute to Austin, Antone’s night club, and Stevie Ray Vaughan in one fell swoop. I’ve mentioned the song, “You’ve Lost that Loving Feeling” (a cover of the Righteous Brothers’ hit), a few times, but I hadn’t mentioned that he incorporated the familiar Cuban song, “Guantanamera,” into the composition. One of the verses from “Guantanamera” he changed so that it says that instead of being “un hombre sincero, de donde crecen las palmas” (a sincere guy from where the palm trees grow), he is “un vato Chicano, del hueso de San Antonio” (a Chicano dude from the very core of San Antonio). But he keeps the rest of the verse: “y antes de morir yo quiero, cantar mis versos del alma” (and before I die, I want to sing these verses straight from my heart). Although you don’t quite realize it at first, the word, “Guantanamera,” is never actually uttered or missed.

I got a chance to meet Garibay at the KOOP Radio studios once and had the chance to see Garibay perform on three occasions, the most notable being at a gig at Antone’s where he opened for Doug Sahm (RIP). The energy was just off the charts for that show. Garibay got the crowd going so good that Doug Sahm actually came out and started his set early. So, the crowd got more than their fair share of Sahm, a curtailed dose of Garibay, but one hell of a night at Austin’s Home of the Blues. Garibay’s horn players backed up Sahm, and Garibay got called out to share the stage (after all, they’re both from “el hueso de San Antonio”). We lost both Sahm and Garibay a few years after they shared the stage at Antone’s, so that show remains one of my favorite memories when reflecting on the hundreds of live music shows I’ve attended.

I got to hang out with Garibay backstage before the show at Antone’s. He was just the most down to earth person, and looked like any other cat from the West Side of San Antonio (in dress and attitude). As we Chicanos might say, “era bien de aquellas” (he was one cool dude). I am always amazed at how people who possess what I would consider to be genius can appear to be just as normal as the rest of us. When combined with great humility, great talent is very easily overlooked. But we know and we remember our “carnal!” There really should be a Randy Garibay museum and an annual Randy Garibay Blues Festival! Maybe one day!

In the end, Randy Garibay was about the blues. It defined him and sustained him for many, many years. The ease with which he could compose, sing, and play so many different styles of the blues and early styles of rock ‘n roll was just inspiring. In the first song of his album, Chicano Blues Man, Garibay expresses his gratitude to the blues itself in the song “Still Singing the Blues.” In just a few verses, he conveys in a most sentimental way, why it is that musicians do what they do. The vocals are heartfelt, and the guitar work is as smooth as silk.