El Gran Combo - 40th Anniversary Show, Madison Square Garden, New York

Review and photo by Ned Sublette, President, Qbadisc

Nobody, not even the fiercest fans, could say they didn't get enough of El Gran Combo at their sold-out 40th anniversary presentation at Madison Square Garden on September 7, 2002.

Highly disciplined and rehearsed down to the finest details, the show amounted to a three-hour medley of the group's hits - foregoing only the Christmas songs -- often accompanied by thematic videos drawing on archival footage. A tribute to Pellín Rodríguez featured footage and stills of that deceased singer. The name of every past member of the group appeared onscreen. Jerry Rivas and Charlie Aponte, the group's soneros, sounded as good as ever, augmented by two extra coro singers on the side. Even the third member of the front line, Papo Rosario, sang a few soneos.

A 60s segment featured a smoking bugalú and a jokey reminder of the band's brief attempt to record in English -- a campy version of "Aquarius / Let the Sun Shine In" that featured Andy Montañez in hippie costume and an Afro wig, and which almost sold me the song by the time they locked into the "Let the sun shine" montuno. Montañez and Gilberto Santa Rosa were invited guests, but their segments were brief (curiously, Montañez didn't appear for what was probably his biggest hit with the group, "Un Verano en Nueva York"). And, unbilled, probably the highlight of the night, was Andrés "El Jíbaro" Jiménez, who guested on "La Loma del Tamarindo," a number I haven't heard the group play live since 1985.

An interesting thing happened when the music was briefly interrupted for the inevitable presentation of a plaque. (I once interviewed the late Puerto Rican cuatrista Maso Rivera at his home in Toa Alta, and he showed me the room he had built onto his home to house his plaques.) The plaque was from the office of Republican Governor George Pataki (who has approximately 10 times as much money for his campaign as Democratic challenger Carl McCall and is buying a lot of Spanish-language radio time). The audience didn't want the music interrupted, and when the Governor's name was mentioned, the house - some 18,000 people -- erupted in a boo. I wouldn't have wanted to be the announcer at that moment. That wasn't the remarkable part, though. The announcer finished the sentence that began with the Governor's name, with the name "El Gran Combo de Puerto Rico" and the boo modulated seamlessly, as if it were one composite sound, into a spirited cheer.

The 100% Puerto Rican references of the video presentation (Roberto Clemente's image made everyone shout out, and the name Albizu Campos appeared on screen) was made more explicit at the concert's ritual false ending. The house lights stayed off for some five minutes of cheering. When the band finally returned, they appeared in horizontal file across a tall riser at the rear of the stage, backs to the audience, dressed uniformly in Puerto Rican flag shirts, in which they finished out the concert. It was like seeing the flag itself playing salsa. The tendency of Puerto Rican shows to become flag rallies seems to have increased in recent years. Other people represent with their flags too, of course, but Puerto Rico's unique "commonwealth" status implies a drama to the display that is uniquely Puerto Rican.

Like all great bands, El Gran Combo makes what they do look easy. Their approach is straightforward and their single aim is to get the audience excited. Rafael Ithier's tumbaos and arranging style are so familiar that they're easily taken for granted. No other group has continued to have radio hits for 40 years, let alone while maintaining a signature sound that has barely changed since the 1960s. There is one band that can beat them for longevity: Sonora Ponceña (founded in 1954), but la Ponceña hasn't had the constant parade of hits that Gran Combo has had. The group's relentless optimism and sunny disposition has always been a curious foil for songs like "La Muerte" (the words say "Yo soy la muerte, yo soy la muerte, la muerte soy", but it sounds so cheerful). But most representative of the group's attitude is their Y2K hit, as good a tune as any they've recorded: "Lo que me vayan a dar / que me lo den en vida". Whatever they're gonna give me, let 'em give it to me while I'm alive. I must have seen El Gran Combo at least 70 times, if not more, over the last two decades. I'll probably go see them next time they're in town. When they're playing - whether it's a 200-seater or Madison Square Garden - the room is full of the alegría that for a moment can cheat death. Whose presence is otherwise all too strongly felt in New York these days.

 

 

This page was last updated on 07-Mar-2005