Bobby Paunetto - 1968 - El sonido moderno

Bobby Paunetto

1968

El sonido moderno 

01.  Aguantando 3:53

02. Mi Flor Tropical 3:44

03. Is It Tasty? 4:08

04. Alfie 2:32

05. Why Is Woody Sad? 3:30

06. Mambo Sevilla 3:25

07. El Senor Sid 4:11

08. Dig It Like It Is 2:51

09. Chinatown 2:52

10. Pero Dime Tu 5:51

Bobby Paunetto: vibes and marimba

John Marrero: piano

Art Ferrero: alto sax

Fernando Oquendo: bass

Tony Centeno: voice, pandereta (tambourine), calabaza

Ray Cruz: timbales

Ray Miranda: timbales on “Mambo Sevilla”

Tommy López: tumbadoras (conga drums)

Jimmy Centeno: trap drums

John “Dandy” Rodríguez: bongoes, cowbell and tumbadora

Henry Zapata: bass on “Mambo Sevilla”

Bobby Vince Paunetto was born in New York on June 22nd, 1944, into a family of Italians and Spanish Catalans who eventually made their home in a middle class section of the Bronx. As children, Bobby and his two older brothers would often listen to their mother sing tangos and watch her dance the lindy hop. When Bobby was but five years old his mother took him along to an audition (she was an aspiring dancer) at the famed Roxy Theatre (demolished in 1960), where he first saw the fancy footwork of Fred Astaire, no doubt getting a first-hand glimpse into the world of American show business. Undoubtedly, it was at this point that the young lad began acquiring a taste for music. In later years, she was also very helpful, writing the Spanish lyrics for his initial recordings. But English was the main language that was spoken at home, and because American radio meant everything to the post-war generation, it exposed Bobby to just about every type of music possible.

Young Bobby was introduced to jazz very early on, when he heard popular DJ “Jocko” Henderson’s radio program on WOV (changed to WADO in 1959). Most likely, it was on one of these shows that he first heard Charlie Parker, an event that changed his life forever. For him, Parker had conquered the speed of light, and would forever be his favorite alto sax man. On the other end of the musical spectrum were those lively Cuban dance rhythms, which had somehow made their way into the lives of Charlie Parker and so many other bebop jazz stars. It was – as pianist René Leyva would often say to me – fusion without confusion. It was Bobby’s older brother Raymond who would ultimately help him to make the connection. Raymond would go dancing at the Palladium and whatever he would pick up from watching the great bands of the day, he would share with his younger brother Bobby. But as fate would have it, it was neither Bird nor the Palladium that would lead him to a career in music. It would be his athletic prowess.

Bobby Paunetto was a natural born athlete. In fact, so athletic was this young man that in 1959 he was awarded and recognized as one of the top young athletes within the New York Public School system. Not long afterward he and some of his fellow basketball team mates were invited by the Police Athletic League to a concert at the Yorkville Casino in upper Manhattan. The year was 1961 and the performing jazz artist at that event was none other than Cal Tjader. One of Bobby’s friends, saxophonist Pat Patrick, introduced him to Cal, and the two immediately hit it off. At the close of the evening, Cal offered Bobby his telephone and address in California. Not much is known as to their conversation, but obviously Bobby had made some points with Cal, because the following year Mr. Tjader released his first Verve album In A Latin Bag (1962). It was for Cal, the culmination of many years of melding two distinct idioms, Jazz and Cuban music. Even today, many folks who are “in the know” have hailed that album as Cal’s crowning achievement. Included in that album was a piece that he (Tjader) had composed in honor of Bobby Paunetto. That tune was “Pauneto’s Point” (Pauneto spelled with only one n).

Mild-mannered Cal Tjader had lit the flame and it was up to Paunetto to carry the torch. Not only did Tjader inspire Bobby to take up the instrument, but it was Cal – along with percussionist Johnny Rae – that also provided him with his first set of vibes. That same year Bobby bought his first piano and started composing his own material.

Sports had by now taken a back seat to his new passion and he submerged himself in all aspects of the music. He studied ardently; theory, composition, orchestration, harmony, and he practiced his instrument up to seven hours a day. It would take him little over a year to become a professional, and as fate would have it – once again – he managed to open up for his friend Cal Tjader in 1963 at the Embassy Ballroom in New York City. Bobby Paunetto was now groovin’ in mambo heaven.

It was August of 1965 and once again fate would intervene; Bobby Paunetto was drafted into the armed forces, serving honorably until 1967. Upon his return to civilian life – and to his beloved New York – Paunetto sought out some of his old cohorts and was soon doing gigs in and around the city. Strangely, he could not help but notice that the old Cuban sound of mambo and cha cha chá had been replaced by a hybrid dance form known as “latin boogaloo”. I won’t go into the who, what, where and why of it, but suffice to say that by 1967 there were boogaloo bands in every borough of the city. The older and more established bandleaders were not at all pleased with this new form, yet they began to include boogaloos in their overall repertoire. Collectively, they knew that as a genre it would eventually have to disappear, so they nonchalantly went along with it.

1967 was the year that pianist Pete Rodríguez released “I Like It Like That”. It was an instant hit and set the bar for the remainder of the decade. Not wishing to be left out of this new money-making pop craze, Bobby Paunetto decide to incorporate the soul-montuno blend into his own format, but instead of just rehashing the same old chord changes and vocal melodies, he dug deep into the jazz idiom, as Cal Tjader himself had already done with his crossover hit “Soul Sauce”. He did not overlook any of these fine points when he began writing the music for El Sonido Moderno. Bobby’s own blend of soul sauce was both tasty (con sabor) and hip (jazzy), yet it produced two adverse effects. First, it resulted in being way too sophisticated for the record buying audience of the day. Top selling artists such as Pete Rodríguez, Johnny Colón and The Lebron Brothers had put special emphasis on raw, uninhibited vocals and a hard driving backbeat (influenced no doubt by that joyous-soul-stirrin’-gospel sound), bolstered of course by a stompin’ party atmosphere. Clave was not totally lost, but it did take a back seat, and all those fancy Palladium style steps were no longer “the thing”. The new audience was a happy let-it-all-hang out crowd, and the hybrid music mirrored that audience. It was a pre-curser to what would later come. It was latin rock in the making, sans the cool jazz element.

Secondly, the lack of promotion that was (not) given to the album was a determining factor in the lack of sales. Spanish language radio was no longer the domain of Alegre, Panart, Seeco, Tico, RCA, Decca, United Artists and Columbia Records. The airwaves in NYC were now being controlled by Cotique and Fania. The radio deejays were now speaking in English and there were new labels popping up left and right. El Sonido Moderno was considered good music by most musicians, but the dancers were not buying it, not in the middle of a dance craze that was sweeping the charts. The next three years would see a few subtle changes, but the truth of the matter was that Latin jazz had begun to wane – but not for long.

It was indeed a fad, a youthful, trendy kind of phase that began winding down around 1969. Traditional Latin American dance forms did prevail and the boogaloo bands started going back to the roots. Arsenio’s classic son montuno and guaguancó combination was now being played again, thanks to Orchestra Harlow, Charlie Palmieri and Johnny Pacheco. The big bands of Tito Rodríguez, Machito and Tito Puente played on with the old stand-by mambos and cha cha chá’s, and despite a large Puerto Rican community, bomba, plena and other genres from that island were still not quite on the horizon – not yet anyway. Within such a huge crucible as New York City, these and other rustic forms would eventually meld to form a new and unique sound. The fruits of what Fernando Ortíz termed transculturation would begin to blossom in the following decades, but not haphazardly. Bobby Paunetto, whose background came from various immigrant groups, was taking notes.

The Dominican civil war that began in 1965 kicked off a cycle of migration from that country into the U.S. and in particular to New York City. As the Dominican community skyrocket during the 70’s the island’s national dance, the merengue, began to see a rise in popularity within the hispanic community in general.

With the passing of several amendments to U.S. Immigration laws, 1965 also saw a large second wave of Colombian immigration into New York City, adding this particular group to the crucible of Latin Americans that were already here. Each subsequent wave of hispanic immigrants would invariably add their unique folkloric elements to the city’s soundscape. The Big Apple was indeed changing, quite rapidly, and musical tastes were beginning to change along with it. Right smack in the middle of all this musical conglomeration was the bebop jazz of Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie, and the afrocubano rhythms of Chano Pozo and Machito. Bobby Paunetto, still taking notes, must have at some point wondered out loud; will this amalgam swallow up the jazz that we loved so dearly? Will the record labels begin to cater exclusively to these new hybrid forms, undermining the rich jazz traditions of Gone City?

Not one to be discouraged, he began to look for alternatives. Armed with letters of recommendation from Latin jazz icons such as Ramón “Mongo” Santamaría, Tito Puente and Cal Tjader himself, plus invaluable financial help from The U.S. Veterans Administration, Bobby Paunetto was accepted into the prestigious Berklee College of Music, where he would be tutored by vibraphonist Gary Burton, among other professors of music. The subsequent years at Berklee would strengthen his musical foundation, broadening not only his musical abilities but his sensitivity to the time tested trinity of melody-harmony-rhythm, adding more texture and depth to his compositions.

Mr. Paunetto graduated from Berklee in 1973 and immediately set out to form his own record label, Pathfinder Records. His brother Raymond would be his partner, and future music legends from his home base, New York City, would be his support team. The synthesis of intellect and emotion displayed in his work would be long remembered by all who were involved, but it would also be forgotten within the world of commercialized music. Such is the legacy of a genius.

“Bobby Paunetto was a truly great artist, a well studied musician with big dreams. He loved Cal Tjader’s music and modeled a sextet after his, adding a saxophone later on to make it a septet. I had the privilege of working with him when we both lived in the Bronx and I even recorded with him a few times. We became very good friends and he would often sit in with me in Tito Puente’s band as a percussionist. He is, in fact, the conga drummer on Tito Puente’s version of “Maria Cervantes”, where I played timbales, Juan “Papi” Cadavieco switched to bongoes and Tito handled the vibes. Bobby was a very talented arranger and composer who focused more on the aesthetics of the music than on the commercial or business aspect. His peers will always remember him as a wonderful human being who loved his art and unfortunately, died much too young.”

– John “Dandy” Rodríguez, percussionist

In later life, health problems did not allow Mr. Paunetto to fully develop as a recording and performing artist, and he stopped performing altogether in 1978. He did however, manage to produce two masterpieces during the years between 1974 and 1976. Joining him in those later sessions were Ed Byrne and Todd Anderson (both fellow alumni from Berklee) and luminaries such as drummer Tom Sala and saxophonists Justo Almario and Bill Drewes. He also brought together some of the best percussionists in the New York City area, among them Gene Golden and Jerry González. Below is a brief review of these classic gems.