SILVIO RODRÍGUEZ

“El día del Armagedón, No quiero estar
Tras la puerta, Sino soñando bien alerta
Donde esté a salvo del perdón”

 

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

​

 

"A"

​

Main Decade: 

70's

Main Eras: 

Trova y Cantautores (1960-???)

Key Members:

Silvio Rodríguez

​

Key Songs:

En el Claro de la Luna, Unicornio Azul, Te Doy Una Canción, Compañera, La Familia La Propiedad Privada y el Amor, Esto No Es Una Elegía, La Gaviota, La Maza, Juego Que Me regaló Un 6 de Enero, Ojalá, Fusil Contra Fusil, La Era Está Pariendo un Corazón, Abracadabra, Playa Girón, Cuba Va, El Necio, Debo Partirme en Dos, Sueño con Serpientes, Hombre, Al iInal De Este Viaje, Quien Fuera, Mujeres, Casiopea, Que Se Puede Hacer con el Amor, Rabo De Nube, Tu Fantasma, Pequeña Serenata Diurna, Que Hago Ahora Contigo, Que Ya Viví Que Te Vas, Testamento, Vamos a Andar, Oda a mi Generación, Hoy Mi Deber Era, Mariposas, Requiem, Oh Melancolía!, El Problema. 

 

 

Don't say I didn't warn you there were surprises! Isn't this a Rock and Words site? Yep. At least that's what it tries to be. Silvio definitely doesn't fall into the first category. So what the hell is he doing on this site, with a rock label, and to top it off, with the highest rating I award? Sorry to disappoint stubborn rockers, but I feel compelled to open the reviews of bands and solo artists in Spanish with a completely unrelated, but equally brilliant, abrasive, passionate, and artistic genre: La Trova, the latin equivalent to Folk.

​

 

If Bob Dylan, who barely touches rock and is almost universally categorized as Folk, is unavoidable on any English-language rock review site, Silvio and others deserve a presence on a site that attempts to cover the best in both English and Spanish. Silvio has no connection to rock, unlike Dylan, but he has the same attitude and occupies exactly the same role within Latin American culture. He is an icon and a guru for several generations. He's a poet who sets his verses to music, with a sharp, precise tongue, a poetic steamroller, and who, despite everything, manages to encompass countless genres rooted in Latin rhythms.

​

 

So excuse me, but before I delve into Black Sabbath, Alice in Chains, Café Tacaba, Soda, or Dylan himself, I have to talk about Silvio, the penultimate "A" in my repertoire. I hope that, if you're an old-school rocker who's never heard of him, this will motivate you to find a song or two and discover at least a little of his magic on the guitar, and above all, in his words.

​

 

Silvio is one of the co-founders of the Nueva Trova Cubana, back in the late 1960s, along with Vicente Feliú, Pablo Milanés, and Noel Nicola, among many others. This entire movement is strongly influenced by the Cuban Revolution; They have a vast political knowledge, and although they have a strong leftist tendency, they use metaphors to deliver sharp political and social criticism of both external systems and Castroism itself when they see something they don't like. They also exalt nationalism and sing of their homeland and the positive aspects of the Revolution, to my very personal taste, achieving a very delicate and objective balance in both positions. The genres and styles that each neo-troubadour would adopt are very different, as is their lyrical style. There are also many who lean more toward romantic singing or dance rhythms, to which Rodríguez himself is no stranger, but which are not his signature.

​

Silvio stands out among them all and, in fact, is the one who led the internationalization of this genre throughout the continent and even in Europe. The Sorcerer's Apprentice began his first compositions while in the barracks, completing his military service, in 1964. These early songs were more sentimental in nature, but a unique musical style was already beginning to germinate, and in a few verses, a political tendency, even though lyrics in the United States were limited to clichés about cars, proms, and girls, long before Vietnam caused the politicization of lyrics.

​

 

However, it wasn't until Che Guevara's death that he definitively shifted his focus toward message songs and began to be heard on Cuban radio on collective albums with relatively successful songs. During this time, he appeared on several television programs and showed his first boldness by expressing his admiration for the Beatles, which nearly ended his career. Shortly after, he boarded the ship "Playa Girón," where he worked along the coast of Africa, finding inspiration to create more than 60 songs, most of them impressive works of art that would later become the best of his repertoire.

​

 

After disembarking in 1970, the general idea he shared with other composers was formally inaugurated with the recording of "Cuba Va," of which he co-composed and co-performed with Milanés and Noel Nicola. This song earned him automatic forgiveness for his comments about the long-haired symbols of the opposing system, and a meteoric rise in his career. Although he would spend a few more years releasing his songs in collectives and it would take him a while to release his first solo album, he soon became the most prominent figure of the Cuban Nueva Trova movement and an icon and figure on the island.

​

 

Why? Simple. From that time on, Silvio was the one who cared most about the substance and form of what he expressed. In fact, this is the main virtue for which I classify him as an "A." No one, absolutely NO ONE, cared as much as he did about achieving perfection in both substance and form in the majority of his repertoire: He was the sharpest tongue of his generation in his political insights, with a needle-like subtlety. At the same time, he was the one who developed the greatest skill both in the harmony of the song, achieving extremely complicated structures on the guitar, as well as in the technique to interpret those harmonies. Later, in an interview, he said that he took up the guitar to create songs he wanted to hear and that had never been played before, so he had to improvise techniques that until then didn't exist, but that echoed in his mind. In other words, he created his own style to hear what he imagined. Silvio is not only revolutionary when it comes to lyrics. Not only is he a poet on par with Dylan himself and should have the same Nobel Prize nominations for literature as the American, but he also revolutionized the way we play the acoustic guitar, achieving a mastery barely surpassed by flamenco geniuses (who don't sing) on ​​the acoustic guitar, and far superior to the crude guitar playing developed by Bob.
 

​

It wasn't until 1975, when he was already enjoying a certain renown in Spain, that he released his first solo LP in Cuba, Días y Flores. On this album, he launched several critiques of Latin American dictatorships, including his own country's, which is why it was released in Spain (still under Franco's rule, since the generalissimo undoubtedly wore the sack) on what would become another album, called "Te Doy Una Canción." Here I need to make a note: Although the songs that expressly speak out against the dictatorship were cut, the title track of this "alternate" album is one of the most rabid political critiques, specifically of dictatorships, a song of love for the homeland over governments, cleverly disguised as a love song. With these lyrics, Silvio Rodríguez embarked on a series of dual works that appeared to be about love or heartbreak when they actually referred to political issues, making scathing criticisms that could not be confirmed, or that were not even suspected by those mentioned. For this reason, they evaded repression and censorship, but the people immediately embraced them as protest anthems, and their fame soared, at least on the island and the peninsula.

​

 

Following the success of his debut album(s), Silvio continued recording several of the songs written during his time at Playa Girón on subsequent albums, which confirmed him at the forefront of Nueva Trova, and slowly, subterraneanly, filtered into the rest of Latin America. In this early period, his signature signature consisted of accompanying himself exclusively with his guitar and the sublime arrangements he extracted from it.

​

 

The 1980s began with tremendous innovation in his sound. Although his albums continued to base their backbone on his maritime writings, the musical foundation was no longer his guitar and tremendous arpeggios, but equally complex orchestral arrangements composed by the many musician friends he had had up until then. He also began to embrace more Latin American and dance-oriented rhythms, combined with an increasingly superficial approach to lyrics that leaned more toward love than politics. The decadence of the 1980s even reached The Sorcerer's Apprentice.

​

 

Although this was perhaps his weakest period, Silvio managed to demonstrate that with each album he released, he was capable of producing at least three or four timeless classics (which is difficult in itself for any average band), masterpieces that remain in the Latin American subconscious. Curiously, during these years, he managed to rise from an underground level to iconic status throughout Latin America. Thanks to reinterpretations by well-known artists from across the continent, who believed they were singing love lyrics, Silvio reached the ears of people with much more conservative tendencies than the radicals and intellectuals he was originally targeting. Perhaps that's why his lyrics began to decline and move towards a more commercial side, but as I said, although his tendency to include fillers on his albums was reversed, he at least managed to fit three or four top-notch songs on each LP.
 

​

In the middle of the decade, he would become the first Latin American to release a triple album with some success: El Tríptico. Personally, I find it to be one of his weakest LPs, but he still manages to create some unforgettable songs on each vinyl. Possibly, without so much filler, leaving a single disc with the best of this trilogy, this would be one of my favorites by Silvio. He would close out the 1980s with "Oh Melancolía," from which few songs also stand out. During the 1980s, Silvio became more radical in terms of harmonies and lyrics. He could create love songs (which in many cases are still profound) and orchestral saturations, but harmonically, they left nothing undone. On the other hand, his political songs, much better achieved, were more incisive in terms of lyrics and elaborate in terms of structure, and most of these remain among his favorites. So my first encounter with Rodríguez was "Unicornio Azul," made famous by Rocío Durcal (what an irony), a protest against a Guatemalan poet friend of his, who had "lost his way" during that country's revolution, and an indirect allegory of Che Guevara.

​

 

The 1990s marked a regression and an evolution at the same time. A return to the guitar as his sole accompaniment and to lyrics as a poetic means of protest. Already filling stadiums wherever he performed in Latin America, he released a pair of "En Vivos" albums that were quite crucial in his career. With nothing left to gain or lose, he recorded a concert in Santiago, Chile, after the fall of Pinochet, managing to fill the National Stadium in Santiago on several dates, proving that, despite the ban, he was one of the most widely distributed and recognized artists during the dictatorship. The next album was an album recorded in concert with Luis Eduardo Aute, the greatest exponent of Spanish trova music, in Madrid's Plaza de la Ventas. The success of both albums catapulted him to unimaginable heights for a figure outside of rock, barely comparable to Soda Stereo, which had a much fresher spirit and was aimed at young people.

​

 

After that, the Sorcerer's Apprentice released a tetralogy, but learning from his mistakes in the 1980s, he didn't release everything on a single album, but instead distributed it throughout a project throughout the 1990s. This tetralogy, the albums "Silvio" (tied in my opinion with the LP "Al Final de Este Viaje" as his best works), "Rodríguez," "Domínguez," and "Descartes," were largely a return to his roots, giving less importance to rhythm and once again emphasizing lyrics and the guitar as the sole accompanying instrument. Likewise, the lyrics, without abandoning a leftist and social bias, were adapted to post-Soviet times. To end the decade, he released "Mariposas," featuring guitarist Rey Guerra, whose guitar style radically changed Silvio's sound and turned out to be one of the singer-songwriter's worst albums. It's a bit like a discarded version of "Descartes."

 

The new millennium brought him new challenges. After having had Leo Weber as his idol and orchestrator of some of his melodies for decades, Silvio embarked on his most ambitious project: "Expedición." On this album, he dared to write all the symphonic arrangements on which the album is based. The results are diverse, producing unforgettable works as well as memorable songs. It was during this time that I heard him live for the first time, at the closing ceremony of the FIL in Guadalajara, where the guest country was Cuba. I spent about 8 or 9 hours on the then FIL esplanade, and what struck me most was finding a Guatemalan woman sitting next to me who had made the long journey just to hear Silvio Rodríguez. The crowds overflowed the two main avenues surrounding the FIL, and after that concert, the idea of ​​creating a more closed and controlled venue for the Expo shows was decided. Honestly, it wasn't necessary, as I don't think an artist will ever perform with such a large audience.
 

​

The subsequent albums, after a few years' hiatus, are still under review. Silvio didn't abandon his guitar entirely, but increasingly gave a larger role to the flute played by his wife. While Niurka González's talent cannot be denied, some of the flute arrangements sound forced and out of place. "Cita con Ángeles," from 2003, is a return to social and political criticism, this time directed at the war waged by the US in the Middle East. The lyrics revisit Silvio's style: incisive, sincere, angry, and poetic. Silvio stops singing for and against a utopia and instead addresses the imbalance of power generated by the end of the Cold War. The guitar is no longer as innovative as it was in the 1990s, but despite the flute arrangements and the inclusion of other instruments like in the 1980s, it still plays a leading role in the songs, and at least three songs will remain an inescapable part of this troubadour's history.

​

Finally, until these lyrics are written, SRD released his latest album in 2006, "Érase que se Era," full of memories. It compiles the last songs from "Playa Girón" that he didn't record. Some of them are very weak and forgettable, others recapture the style that made him famous in the 1970s. The lyrics, dating back some four decades, are the highlight of the CD. They sound fresh and fierce, like the old Silvio, and make us wonder if the Revolution and the Counterrevolution are really a thing of the past or still relevant.

​

 

I had the chance to see the Sorcerer's Apprentice on the tour for this latest album. Already diminished in his voice, he lowered his guitar tones with arrangements that were inferior to the originals to achieve his voice. Still, it was quite an experience, and I don't regret it at all.

​

Silvio Rodríguez Domínguez is an artist like any other, with ups and downs. And yet, on every album he hasn't ceased to mean something, he has never stopped leaving his mark with double-edged songs. Ojalá (I Wish I Had a Song), Te Doy Una Canción (I Give You a Song), Unicornio Azul (Blue Unicorn), Sueño con Serpientes (I Dream of Snakes), Hoy mi Deber Era (My Duty Was Today), Pequeña Serenata (Little Serenade), Debo Partirme en Dos (I Must Break Myself in Two), En el Claro de la Luna (In the Clear of the Moon), Réquiem (Requiem), Quédate (Stay), La Familia (The Family)… and countless other songs that can be sung in a serenade without fear of failing the heart of the beloved, and that can at the same time be reinterpreted into a double-edged political ultimatum like Dylan never managed.

​​

Not to mention the direct hits: La Maza, Canción Urgente, El Mayor, Fusil contra Fusil, Hombre, Días y Flores, Playa Girón, Sinhué…

​

 

Silvio also has the advantage of perhaps being the person who best knew how to play the guitar in Latin America. Without using stratospheric requintos, he was a master of the arpeggio, of arrangements and figures with the six strings, even recreating the extremely complicated orchestrated figures of the 1980s, accompanying himself only with his Spanish guitar in live performances. Silvio not only deserves a Nobel Prize in the same way Dylan has been nominated for them. Although unknown in the US and in the history of rock in the north, he revolutionized the way of writing, performing, and singing, making the singer-songwriters of the 1980s have a much deeper meaning than the idiotic and vain OTI award.

​

Silvio achieved artistically what Guevara couldn't reconcile with weapons: a union of ideologies that ended up crushing almost all the dictatorships on the continent (am I exaggerating?), although his double-edged swords never overthrew his country's dictatorship (and I don't think he ever tried).

​

Finally, SRD not only combines compositional talent with interpretive mastery. Silvio has one of those rare, highly distinctive, and almost unparalleled voices that makes each of his songs unmistakable. He always pushes his limits. Although not a privileged voice, he has such a high range that it's difficult to reach. Silvio has one of those voices that seems fragile to the point of expecting it to break on the next note, but it never disappoints.
 

​

It's worth mentioning that I didn't discover him until my late teens. Unlike many of his fans I know, I wasn't instilled in his wisdom in my early childhood by my mother or aunts, but rather discovered him through indifference amidst the trovera wave of the late 1990s. And every time I listen to one of his albums, I find a new meaning, a new innovation with the guitar. I'm still surprised to find videos in which I thought at least two or three guitars were playing at the same time, only to discover that only one pair of hands was doing all the work.

​

 

Silvio Rodríguez unified a wounded and until then unequal subcontinent. He revolutionized the way the Spanish guitar was played to a degree no one has been able to match. He co-founded and launched an entire genre to fame. He has at least four albums that MUST be among the best of all time. He has at least 35 songs that are anthems for at least four generations. His voice, while not masterful, is unmistakable. Although several of his albums feature far more fillers than lead roles, to my very particular taste, they're not the majority; on the contrary, they're only in the '80s. And if that weren't enough, he's one of the few artists who hasn't released a single album without including at least one song worthy of a statue, or at least being remembered as a classic of classics, and that's extremely difficult to find even in the best rock bands, let's call them Zeppelin, Stones, or The Who. His lyrics, double-edged poems, never sound false or forced. Nor are they a moral lesson. They are sincere lyrics that invite a personal commitment, a questioning of the state of things around us, and which, despite some being over 40 years old, remain tremendously relevant. Perhaps the most important thing about Silvio's lyrics is that she never intended to change the world, but rather to change our perception and commitment to it...

​

 

Despite all the criticisms I can level at his overrated and overhyped '80s albums, the arguments in my previous paragraph are sufficient to give him the highest rating I can.

 

Silvio, without even touching on rock, touches the most delicate fibers of this genre: poetry and revolution, the latter in every sense. Therefore, I believe it is my duty to recommend him AND classify him WITHIN this genre.

​

Despite its shortcomings, please, for those who haven't heard him, give it a try and discover that vein that rock lost when Silvio was just awakening the world... Ideas that, regardless of trend, remain and will continue to be universal, legitimate, and relevant.

​

​

Ladies and gentlemen, the poet-dolphin who embraces Fidel, singing for and against him, in the name of all the justices and injustices of the world: The Sorcerer's Apprentice, Silvio Rodríguez!!
 

 

By Corvan 

Dic/22/2007

​

​

​

​