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ricky martin’s just stormed into town again, shaking his bon bon at MuchMusic. Meanwhile, the scorching sound of salsa continues to sizzle at Toronto night spots. But if you want an authentic taste of the original latin explosion, check out a new record by the legendary Mr. Bongo, Jack Costanzo. Showing impeccable timing, the wiry 68-year-old percussion powerhouse has come out of retirement with the fabulous Back From Havana (Cubop) disc.
The Bobby Matos-produced session is an end-to-end burner, with Costanzo banging at his very best, surrounded by a younger cast of latin jazz heavies.
The toy-like minidrums he made his name on have had a checkered history — from background obscurity to ubiquitous fashion accessory to musical oblivion. Fundamental to latin music, the primal power of the Afro-Cuban beatdown was introduced to millions of television viewers each time the conga-strapped Ricky Ricardo started pounding out his frenzied incantation, Babalu, on I Love Lucy.
Meanwhile, the ever-accessible bongos provided the perfect punctuation for the rebellious poetry of the emerging beat generation.
Then, as suddenly as they’d appeared, they were gone — replaced by drum machines that could mimic the percolating pop with the flick of a “bongo” switch. Those seeking instant rhythmic gratification turned to the African djembe. But growing interest in the roots of latin music, spurred in part by the Buena Vista Social Club phenomenon, has coaxed Costanzo back from obscurity, and with him the bongos.
It was Costanzo who made the bongos a part of the American popular music vernacular through his innovative work with the Stan Kenton Orchestra in the late 40s, followed by a high-profile hitch with the Nat King Cole Trio.
“People talk about Ricky Martin and the whole latin explosion today,” cackles West Coast latin jazz promoter Steve Kader from San Diego, “but the first explosion of latin culture in the mainstream back the the early 50s was just as huge, maybe even bigger.’
At the age of 13, Costanzo taught himself to play bongos using a homemade set fashioned from old wooden butter tubs and bashing along with Xavier Cugat records, but he initially set out to be a professional dancer. The bongos didn’t come back into the picture until years later, when, performing with his wife, Marda Saxon, Costanzo was struck with an idea for a new gimmick to sell their dance routine.
“One night she went to take her solo dance, and I grabbed my bongos and started following her movements and accenting her steps with the beat,” says Costanzo from his San Diego home. “That’s really how I learned to play.”
Bandleaders like Rene Touzet came calling, followed by Stan Kenton in 47. Costanzo’s collaboration with Kenton proved to be a watershed in latin jazz, and, though less widely acknowledged, just as influential as Chano Pozo’s groundbreaking Cubop experiments with Dizzy Gillespie.
“In 1947, Kenton wanted to incorporate bongos into his act. He saw me in L.A. and said, “How’d you like to join my band? You’ll be a star in six weeks.'” Costanzo not only became a star — he touched off bongo mania.
“You can hear his influence in a mid-50s hit like Peggy Lee’s Fever,” says Samba Squad percussionist Rick Lazar. “Those are bongos doing all the breaks.”
Soon, every band needed to hire a bongo player of its own, and eventually you couldn’t go to any club without seeing a set of bongos. “Hollywood went bongo-crazy,” recalls Costanzo. “People were hiring me to host jam sessions at their parties, and everyone wanted me to teach them.”
“Because the bongos didn’t require a lot of musical knowledge to make kind of a cool sound, everybody wanted to play,” agrees Kader. “The bongos were like a small piece of latin culture that anyone could bring into their home.”
Costanzo’s popularity grew among Tinseltown’s elite during all-night soirees with Marlon Brando, Tony Curtis, Frank Sinatra and others. However, by the time the movie biz adopted the drums as a symbol of bohemian chic — the de facto beatnik signifier — the instrument was already on the way out. Forward-looking latin bandleaders like Ray Baretto and Pete Rodriguez were mixing in elements of rock and R&B that would lead to the boogaloo craze of the mid-60s. The incursion of the very loud trap drum kit wasn’t far behind, and with the bongos sonically eclipsed, bongo players were left to clank on cowbells.
“Over the years, drum machines replaced bongo players in the studio, but things have been changing,” says Kader. “Maybe it’s because of Ricky Martin and Carlos Santana, but artists seem more eager to hire a bongo or conga player for a show.’
If the sound of the bongos is coming back, you can credit reissue
producers like Miles Perlich (no relation) who are keeping cool music in circulation. It’s not, he says, about Ricky and J-Lo and the new wave.
“The only thing latin about Ricky Martin’s big crossover hit Livin’ La Vida Loca was a little bit of Spanish in the title,” laughs Perlich, who assembled the exceptionally hip Latino Blue compilation for Blue Note. “It would be nice if, because of the so-called latin explosion, people started checking into the roots of the music, but I really don’t think there’s a trickle-down effect.
“The polished sound of Ricky Martin, Marc Anthony and Jennifer Lopez is just part of an image of being a pop star. That has nothing to do with latin jazz, the really swinging stuff that Tito Rodriguez, Machito, Sabu Martinez and Mongo Santamaria were doing in the 50s and 60s, and what Jack Costanzo is still doing today.’
“Martin’s grooves are more latin-flavoured, with horns,” Lazar allows, “but rhythmically, he’s more like rock fusion. But check out his videos — there are always bongos in the background.”
Costanzo isn’t banking on a second career, but then, he wasn’t counting on the first one either. “You need to be in really good shape to play percussion, and I’m not in the kind of physical condition I should be in to perform,’ he confides. “But I think I’m playing better than ever. *
Babalú’u (136 Yorkville) — Wednesday through Sunday
Berlin (2335 Yonge) — Live music Tuesday
Cervejaria (842 College) — Live music Friday
Latin Fever (2220 Hwy 7 West, at Keele) — Thursday through Sunday
Momentos (111 Yorkville)
Plaza Flamingo (423 College)
Babalú’u (136 Yorkville) — Wednesday through Sunday
Berlin (2335 Yonge) — Live music Tuesday
Cervejaria (842 College) — Live music Friday
Latin Fever (2220 Hwy 7 West, at Keele) — Thursday through Sunday
Momentos (111 Yorkville)
Plaza Flamingo (423 College)
