The Great Overlook

Why the recent disc of duets betweåen Freddy Fender and Flaco Jimenez may drift off into the night

by Tom Chandler

n this day and age of rescuing aging world music stars from obscurity (thanks Ry!), we all tend to be very fad focused, with someone like Cesaria Evora stepping into the spotlight and then being put out to pasture by the fickle tastes of the masses. For once, this is a problem that is not entirely the fault of the record labels. As much as anyone can sustain a career in the music business, almost no-one will be multi-platinum over and over again, even more so if they don’t sing in English.

But it’s still disappointing to see what’s happening with the new collaboration between two Mexican-American icons, Flaco Jimenez and Freddy Fender, called Dos Amigos. Fans of the Texas Tornados and Los Super Seven and Mexican music in general should all be very excited about this disc. It’s a very stripped down set, just the two of them singing, Flaco playing accordion, ? on bajo sexto and ? on drums, playing old songs from their youth.

This approach of going back to his heritage served Fender well on his grammy winning La Musica de Baldemar Huerta (regardless of the fact that he has never professionally played music like that), and I have to say that it’s nice to sidestep the country-lite of the Tornados for some really well done conjunto. In spirit, it’s much closer to Flaco’s musical world than Freddy’s, but much gentler and more humane, thanks to Fender’s tender presence.

So what’s wrong? What’s wrong is that we have here the tex-mex equivalent of the Buena Vista Social Club or Congo’s Kekele, a summit of masters of the genre, and when I asked my label rep for a copy to review, she didn’t even know it existed, much less that it was her record to sell. (Actually, she’s very nice.) I’m willing to bet that you, the reader, doesn’t know that this album exists. There’s zero marketing going on here. It probably didn’t cost a lot to make the album, so Back Porch (Virgin’s alt-country/roots label, i.e. not a “regional Mexican” label) probably isn’t going to lose money. They’re just losing an opportunity.

Furthermore, the artwork stinks. Some duotone of a crappy line drawing of their faces. “But Tom, you’ve got to consider the state of the industry! We don’t have the money to throw around anymore the way we used to!” Whatever, gentlemen. Hire a decent graphic designer. Take a cue from Nonesuch or something. You’re sitting on a gold mine and pretending it ain’t there because you can’t afford the shovel to start digging. But that’s a load of crap, because you’re owned by Virgin. Tell me Virgin can’t get you the budget to make a record you know will sell. Come on, tell me.

The fact that this is on Back Porch and not EMI Latin or something lets me know that Anglos are the primary fan base. People like myself, who have come to this music via exposure from the Texas Tornadoes or Flaco’s outreach work or Los Lobos’ acoustic moments. The white American roots music buyer. But these are people that would really value a nice package. Fuck it, anybody would enjoy a nice package. Maybe a photograph or two of the recording session, etc. Maybe a few words with Freddy and Flaco. These are the people that don’t know about this disc, due to lack of marketing. You are missing your target audience.

On top of that, you’re completely ignoring the Spanish-speaking, incredibly huge population of Latinos and Mexican-Americans that would love this disc. It may be too old fashioned for the kids who want reggaeton, but there’s plenty of folks who would kill to have some awesome conjunto like this. They’ll be lucky if they stumble across it in the record bins. But if the sales rep doesn’t know that the CD exists, then it won’t make it into the record bins for anyone to stumble over. Hmmm. What do you do about that?

It’s such a great disc, too. A relaxed good humor pervades the entire thing, and a few snippets of conversation precede some tunes to augment the feeling that this is just an afternoon at Flaco’s house, with good friends playing for fun. There’s a good variety of styles and tempos, some polkas, some boleros, some waltzes. Freddy and Flaco’s voice blend like a warm old sweater, and even though Flaco could probably sleepwalk through the accordion parts, he instead shows up to the party and infuses his playing with deep soul.

So, if you have to seek it out, do so. Even if you don’t normally listen to Mexican or Tejano music, you’re going to be sucked in. But when you buy it, I request that you take the booklet out, get out the paint set, and redecorate it the way you’d like it to be. Talk about a limited edition! Then when you get one of the guys to autograph it, it’ll be even more special.