Appropriation of cultural capital is nothing new. Artists have long been drawing on ethnic and regional sources other than their own for raw material. In jazz, Blakey borrowed from Africa. Brubeck found inspiration in Asia. Cal Tjader was at it long before Paul Simon, David Byrne and Ry Cooder, though his role was markedly different. He had defining place in the popularization of a new genre of music, Latin Jazz. With conguero Mongo Santamaria and timbale troubadour Willie Bobo in the ranks of his Fifties ensembles, Tjader ruled San Francisco, the West Coast roost of the music, holding court at the Blackhawk on countless nights to the delight of fans of all complexions.
Always one to surf the trends in the music, Tjader plugged his band in at the dawn of Fusion, incorporating rock rhythms and electric instruments alongside the layered Latin beats that had long been the backbone of his band. A slew of releases on the Fantasy label followed and he rode out a swell of popularity into the late 70s. Cuban Fantasy comes from this period and presents previously unreleased material from a concert gig initially captured on the 1977 album Here. A well seasoned, but loosely grooving sextet, Tjader’s group features two faces that would go on to solo success. Clare Fischer, a former Tristano student, echoes very little of his teacher’s influence on electric piano, but fits right into the syncopated tropical surroundings. Poncho Sanchez, still two years away from his solo debut, holds down the hand percussion end as resident conguero.
The other band members are more nondescript, but serviceable in their respective roles. Guitarist Bob Redfield regularly slings off rock-informed riffs that vaguely recall the crying keening licks of Carlos Santana, while bassist Rob Fisher lays down a functional assortment of rounded throbbing bass lines. Pete Riso completes the package and his combative drumming sometimes muscles in on Sanchez’s percolating give and take with the leader. Sound clarity is clean and crisp with all instruments well separated and boldly situated in the mix. Most of tunes are simple riff and vamp vehicles, springboards for solos rather than ambitious interplay. Tjader predictably places the focus firmly on rhythm for most of the program.
Redfield’s rock proclivities are particularly prominent on longer tracks like the Fischer-scripted “Guarabe” and the Latin standard “Tamanco no Samba” where he spins keening arpeggiated webs of notes above a turbulent percussive terrain. The former track suffers from a serious case of rhythmic rut as the players retread the simple repeating theme. Fischer is forced to comp for what seems like an endless duration, before the piece changes time signatures and segues into a rolling groove.
Strangely enough, Tjader often assigns himself to the simple task of supplying tonal color, making use of his sustain pedals to create broad washes of shimmering chromatics. But the disc is also an opportunity to here him in more aggressive form on timbales on track’s like the closing “Guachi Guara,” a title-variant of Tjader’s signature “Soul Sauce.” Even with the elements of complacency there’s still enough energy and enthusiasm on the part of the players to nourish interest. Nothing deep or enduring here, but that’s probably not Tjader’s intention and this is a set of music that most certainly entertains.
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