Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:02):
There are some icons who shine on both sides of
the curtain.
Speaker 2 (00:06):
Mm hmm, your prains, you're Pharrell.
Speaker 1 (00:09):
The ones who know how to make a track sound
just right, who can transform a song into a hit
just by adding the perfect hook.
Speaker 3 (00:18):
The icons behind the icons, the ones who go from
supporting players to center stage slowly.
Speaker 1 (00:25):
But Shirt and Today's icon, well, without him, some of
the most important salsa artists and records might never have existed.
Speaker 3 (00:35):
They'd be regulated to deep cuts, footnotes, stuff that a
hipster friend might tell you about but you can't remember
because he gives you a twenty minute lecture about it
with no PowerPoint.
Speaker 1 (00:46):
You hear that, Brian from cobble Hill. Next time, make
it a PowerPoint party.
Speaker 2 (00:51):
Yeah, Brian, Wait, PowerPoint party.
Speaker 4 (00:54):
Whatever our producer said it was a thing.
Speaker 1 (00:56):
We don't do that around here, but we get how
it could be really funny. Luckily, Brian's genre of choice
will remain Eastern European disco because Salza had a Wheelie
Colonne for a hit.
Speaker 3 (01:09):
Maker, trombonist, vocalist, arranger, producer and certified New yor Rican Royalty.
Speaker 1 (01:17):
As a New Yorker, Golan is deeply tied to the
city's roughest and some would say most artistically explosive years.
Speaker 3 (01:26):
Fun fact, he also ran to be New York Congressman.
He lost them.
Speaker 1 (01:31):
As in Bourriqua, he uplifted the music of his fellow Garibagios,
empowering a whole generation of salsa artists to bridge gaps
within the Latino community.
Speaker 4 (01:39):
We bah, it's weird to hear you say that. I mean,
I like it. Listen.
Speaker 1 (01:45):
We accept all we except all onto the island anyway.
As a American and a New Yorker, Golan has been
an outspoken critic of dictatorship and a voice for the
marginalized people he grew up with.
Speaker 3 (01:58):
Except these days where I'm not so crazy about the
things Willie's been saying.
Speaker 4 (02:03):
Yeah, we're gonna get there, I promise.
Speaker 1 (02:06):
And like him or not agree or disagree with him,
there is one thing that we can agree on. Willie
Colonne is an irreplaceable part of Latin music.
Speaker 3 (02:19):
He paid the way for some of our favorites, from
Sela Cruz to Mark Anthony.
Speaker 4 (02:23):
And it all started in the South Bronx.
Speaker 3 (02:27):
We off to the Pooky Down.
Speaker 1 (02:32):
I'm your host, Lilianavosquez and I'm Joseph Carrio and This
is Becoming an Icon a weekly podcast where we give
you the rundown on how today's most famous LATINX stars
have shaped pop culture.
Speaker 2 (02:46):
And given the world some extra.
Speaker 4 (02:48):
Level Sit back and get comfortable.
Speaker 2 (02:51):
Because we are going in the only way we know how.
Speaker 1 (02:55):
With buenasas, buenasriesas, and a lot of opinions as we
relive their greatest achievements on our journey to find out
what makes them so iconic. Loyal listeners know when it
(03:18):
comes to its importance in the world of Latin music,
New York City can just about go toe to toe
with any city in Latino America, from.
Speaker 3 (03:25):
The King of Reggaeton Darayenki to Laina de la Salsa
Cela Cruz. Everybody from Nicaribe comes through sooner or later.
Speaker 4 (03:33):
Caribbean Latinos all have a unique.
Speaker 1 (03:36):
Relationship with New York and that New York Caribbean connection
is over a century old.
Speaker 3 (03:42):
Cubans traced their New York ties back as far back
as the late eighteen hundreds when Jose Marti organized the
independence movement while he was in exile.
Speaker 1 (03:51):
And that independence movement came to a head when after
Cuba was years deep into its War of Independence, the
US stepped in at the eleventh hour and declared war
on Spain, an intervention with consequences spanning more than a century.
Speaker 3 (04:05):
Including Puerto Rico status as a United States territory aka
the stuff many podcasts and many arguments at Puerto Rican
dinner tables over statehood versus independence.
Speaker 1 (04:15):
And the reason for the huge Puerto Rican community in
New York City. In nineteen seventeen, Puerto Ricans were granted
US citizenship, making it far easier for Bordiquas to come stateside.
Speaker 3 (04:28):
And so thousands of Puerto Ricans did just that. Known
as Los Bionetros or the Pioneers. The first wave of
Bodiquas turned to New Yorkers, or.
Speaker 1 (04:38):
In my dad's case, Bodigua's turned Texans.
Speaker 3 (04:41):
The Bionetto settled down in Brooklyn, East Harlem, the Lower
East Side shout out Losaida and the Bronx.
Speaker 1 (04:46):
And it's there in the South Bronx where Willi Colon's
grandparents settled down in the nineteen tens with that first
wave of bion Neros, and over the next forty five years,
that Puerto Rican community grew, an grew, and grew.
Speaker 4 (05:01):
With both new arrivals and New Aurekans.
Speaker 1 (05:04):
Bourriqua was born off the island, and among those New
Yorrekans was Willi Colonne born April twenty eighth, nineteen fifty.
Speaker 4 (05:13):
Okay, Joseph, what do you got for Willy?
Speaker 2 (05:17):
A Taurus just like me?
Speaker 3 (05:20):
A Taurus' son, hardworking and patient in model, thrives in
situations where he is in control, just like me, Let's
say the recording studio. He would do best to embrace
his sense of authority, but also be careful not to
let himself become too narrow minded. When he learns a
lesson in life, he doesn't forget it, and the streets
(05:40):
are a hard teacher.
Speaker 4 (05:42):
Mi hau Truer words have never been spoken.
Speaker 1 (05:47):
Willi's mom had him at just sixteen years old.
Speaker 2 (05:51):
And Mama was dealt a tough hand.
Speaker 3 (05:53):
She grew up first generation New yor Rican way back
when New Yorkers called bodegas corner stores.
Speaker 1 (05:59):
It was based sickly the Stone Age. All this environment
was not kind to foreigners like us. So it's no
wonder when he's mom lost her Spanish, making matters worse.
Daddy wasn't in the picture. So of course that meant
Abuela picked up the slack. Shout out to all the Aboilas,
picking up the slack for dead bee dads right, shout
(06:20):
out to the Abolitas. Anyway, Willi Colan's grandmother, Antonia, was
his guiding light. She taught him Spanish and instilled in
him that Bourriqua pride.
Speaker 3 (06:28):
Which was important because remember this was corner Story days,
and then white kids were circling.
Speaker 1 (06:35):
Cologne was shorter and had darker skin than the mostly
Irish American white kids. He found himself at odds with
day to day. He went to a school with segregated
bathrooms and water fountains, there was no hiding who he was. Still,
the insults only made him double down on his pride.
Speaker 2 (06:54):
No grandchild of Antonio Goa had who he.
Speaker 4 (06:56):
Is, Gracia.
Speaker 1 (07:01):
But there was one more thing weely would get bullied over,
and this one it stung deep.
Speaker 3 (07:07):
Willie's abuela used to show her grandson a photo of
his dad dressed as a soldier. She would tell him
about the reason he wasn't around was that he was
off fighting, but in reality.
Speaker 1 (07:18):
Willi's father was in and out of prison and was
often arrested publicly for robbery and other violent offenses. In
one interview, Wily even seems to imply that he himself
witnessed his father's arrest.
Speaker 3 (07:29):
Willie's classmates knew about all of this, and they bullied
him relentlessly for it. But Willie, being a tourus, wasn't
taking that shit laying down. He was throwing elbows, getting
in fight after fight.
Speaker 1 (07:42):
Still with his father gone, Willi was the man of
the house. That meant that he felt responsible for looking
after his sister out on the streets.
Speaker 3 (07:50):
And he looked after her the only way he knew how,
by fighting with anyone who looked at her own.
Speaker 1 (07:56):
Remember this was the South Bronx in the nineteen fifties
and sixties, and while this was far from the Bronx's
burning days of the seventies, times were tough in the
Batrio right after World War Two.
Speaker 3 (08:08):
Families like Willi's used to be able to get jobs
at the factory, but now those factories were closing up.
Lower paying, lower status service jobs took their place, making
matters worse.
Speaker 4 (08:18):
Heroin use was on the rise.
Speaker 1 (08:20):
More and more, it felt like you didn't know who
or what was around the next street corner. That meant
Willy had to learn to defend himself in his own words.
Speaker 4 (08:30):
Everyone else had brothers or dads to back them up.
Speaker 3 (08:32):
I didn't, So Willie toughened up quick, and soon he
earned a nickname, El Marlo.
Speaker 1 (08:40):
It's hard not to assume that the nickname has some
like father like sun vibes.
Speaker 4 (08:45):
But WILLI would come to wear that.
Speaker 1 (08:46):
Nickname like armor and eventually carry it into his career
as a salsettle.
Speaker 3 (08:52):
So he had the nickname, he had the attitude. There's
just one thing missing.
Speaker 1 (08:56):
The music, of course, And of all of the gift
if Abuela Antonia would be still upon Willi, this was
perhaps the most important.
Speaker 3 (09:07):
At eleven years old, Willie received a trumpet as a
gift from his grandmother. This was obviously her way of
keeping Willy off the streets.
Speaker 4 (09:14):
But it wasn't for lack of love of music either.
Speaker 1 (09:17):
Antonia had enrolled Willy in music lessons and would have
him sing for all of her friends.
Speaker 3 (09:22):
But this wasn't just about proving te tiacuncita that you
had the most talented grandkid. Antonia really cared about Willy's passions.
Speaker 1 (09:30):
A plus plus for parenting y'all and Antonia's nurturing and
her sacrifices would sit Willy on a course to change
Latin music forever. It's nineteen sixty four and Willie Colonne,
(09:53):
at fourteen years old, has formed his very first band,
the Latin Jazz All Stars.
Speaker 3 (09:59):
All Stars is some big talk for a bunch of sweaty.
Speaker 1 (10:02):
Teens, especially in New York, which had long since earned
its reputation as one of the great American jazz cities,
and in the nineteen sixties Latin jazz in particular was
taking off.
Speaker 3 (10:13):
The last decade was ruled by legends like Miles Davis,
Charlie Parker, and Solonius Monk. In the sixties they were
still royalty no shade, but something else was.
Speaker 1 (10:24):
Bruin rumba, mambo and merengue exploded out of dance halls Throughound,
Manhattan and the Bronx. Meanwhile, groups like Machito and his
Afro Cuban Boys experimented with weaving these styles into classic
jazz arrangements.
Speaker 3 (10:40):
An artist like Tito Puente and Lorena se La Cruz
brought the og styles up from Las Islas to clubs
like the Gongan Health Kitchen, Park Plaza in East Harlem
and most importantly the Palladium in the East Village.
Speaker 1 (10:54):
It was during this golden age of Latin Jazz that
Williicolon saw his idol, the trombonis Mont Rivera live in concert,
and then he basically looked at Rivera playing the trombone,
then looked at his trumpet and looked up with sad
little kid eyes.
Speaker 3 (11:10):
And so Abuela Antonia La Santa saved about two weeks
worth of living expenses to buy him a trombone.
Speaker 1 (11:20):
Real talk, if you are lucky enough to have an
Abuela Antonia in your life, you are set, like set, set,
set for life.
Speaker 4 (11:28):
So at the height of Mambo Mania, not.
Speaker 3 (11:32):
To be confused with the Latin explosion.
Speaker 1 (11:35):
I Hate you, Willie Colonne was playing wherever he could
with the Latin Jazz All Stars at night and in
the daytime he was working at a small record store.
Speaker 2 (11:44):
Now, sometimes you want to keep your moonlighting and your
day job separate, but this wasn't the case for Willie
because the owner of the record store owned a small
record label.
Speaker 1 (11:55):
Willy invited the store manager to one of the Latin
Jazz All Stars gigs, and the manager said yes, because
what are you going to do?
Speaker 4 (12:02):
Not go and then have to talk to Willie at
work every day?
Speaker 3 (12:06):
Seriously bad news. So the store manager dragged his ass
onto the floor train and over to East Harlem, and
to his surprise, Willie could rip. He was impressed, very impressed.
Speaker 1 (12:19):
So impressed that he gassed up Willy Colone's band to
the store owner, convincing him to sign the band to
his label. So at fourteen, Willy and his band recorded
an entire LP on the end.
Speaker 3 (12:33):
But if you know anything about Willy Colonne, you already
know this isn't a big break.
Speaker 4 (12:37):
By the way, if you know anything about our podcast,
you know that it.
Speaker 1 (12:40):
Takes like eight label signings and thirteen records to hit
it big. And same thing happened with Willy the label.
It ended up going bankrupt. The store owner lost everything,
including the rights to the LP Willy and the band
had recorded.
Speaker 3 (12:55):
Rule number one, read the contract, Rule number two. The
repomen don't give no fuck about that contract.
Speaker 1 (13:04):
So Real, however, really struck a deal with the store owner.
If he could raise enough money to buy the rights back,
the tapes would be his. So El Malo hustled and
scraped and got his music back.
Speaker 3 (13:18):
Meanwhile, across town, another independent record label was on the
up and up, and.
Speaker 4 (13:23):
Now we're getting to the good stuff.
Speaker 1 (13:26):
In nineteen sixty four, an unlikely duo decided to found
a record label. That duel was Johnny Pacheko, the legendary
Dominican multi instrumentalist, and his divorce lawyer Jerry Mesucci.
Speaker 3 (13:38):
Wait, really, we did not cover that in the Celia
episodes because.
Speaker 1 (13:43):
Some details you got to say for later. Otherwise we
wouldn't have a podcast anyway. Jerry Mesucci, the cop turned
divorce lawyer turned and presario, had spent some time in
Cuba and had developed a love of Latin music. So
when he learned that his client was selling records out
of the trunk of his car, he decided to help
a brother out.
Speaker 3 (14:03):
Bacheco, as we mentioned earlier in the season, was sped
up with getting a measly cut from record sales. Neither
he nor Masucci could have predicted that their little operation
would become a springboard for a whole generation of Latin
musicians and a globally known brand.
Speaker 1 (14:19):
We are, of course, talking about Fanya Records, and Willie
Colonne was about to get in on the ground floor.
In nineteen sixty seven, a few years after the label
got itself a proper office, really showed up to Fanya
with his Latin Jazz All Stars LP in hand.
Speaker 3 (14:36):
Always make sure you own your work, kids, because that
record got really signed.
Speaker 4 (14:42):
But Willy still had work to do.
Speaker 1 (14:44):
He had won Masucci over, but when he met Johnny Pacheco,
the Dominican luminary had one thing to say.
Speaker 2 (14:50):
To him, find a singer.
Speaker 4 (14:51):
Paranto pronto you mean prono.
Speaker 3 (14:56):
Yeah.
Speaker 1 (14:58):
Luckily for Willie, it wouldn't take him long to find
a singer, a singer who would become one of his
closest collaborators and.
Speaker 4 (15:04):
Fuel one of his biggest beefs.
Speaker 1 (15:17):
Joseph, let's take a little beat as fellow New Yorkers. Okay, fine,
one current New Yorker and one former New Yorker. I'm
probably lucky if you even let me back on the island.
Speaker 3 (15:31):
Well, real talk, have you changed your driver's license to California?
Speaker 4 (15:36):
Negative? A massive negative?
Speaker 3 (15:38):
No?
Speaker 4 (15:38):
Never, I am holding out forever.
Speaker 3 (15:41):
Okay, keep it that way and we'll let you back
in every time. Anyway, we're taking a beat.
Speaker 1 (15:46):
Yes, As you can tell from this episode, New York's
music scene as it once was is legendary for a reason.
Dance halls, discos, scrappy little DIY venues.
Speaker 3 (15:56):
Are we about to get sentimental up in this bitch?
You know it?
Speaker 1 (16:01):
I have to ask you, because I know you used
to spend your nights at your club. Is there any
club that no longer exists in New York that used
to like your stomping.
Speaker 2 (16:15):
In this club?
Speaker 3 (16:17):
Yes, it no longer exists. It was called Splash and
it was also the very very first gay bar I
ever been to in New York.
Speaker 2 (16:26):
And when you.
Speaker 1 (16:27):
Moved from Texas and I moved around the Paso, Texas
and oh my god, made it so special.
Speaker 3 (16:33):
You know? It was like, well, I would there used
to be a show on HBO called Queer's Folk, and
it was it looks like the gay guys would go
into the huge warehouses with go go boys and just
everyone was beautiful and people were like blah blah blah,
and it just like, I don't know, it was exactly
that what I walked into. So it was just such
(16:54):
a core memory of like going into a huge, massive club,
although now looking back at it wasn't that big, but
it just felt like it because I had never been
into anything like that. What about your first club or venue,
because I know you like music.
Speaker 1 (17:09):
Actually, okay, so the clubs that I remember were like
I mean, it was like late nineties, early two thousand's heyday.
So I god, I'm so embarrassed. Like the Tunnel, I'm
like dating myself right now. I don't know if people
know what that is, but like that was a club
that I went to when I was sixteen years old,
(17:30):
living in New York going to Columbia University for the summer.
I had no business being at the Tunnel when I
was sixteen years old. And then I'm trying to think,
like there was another one that was kind of like that,
and I'm like blanking on the name right now, but
I feel like I loved all of Like I loved
all of those places. And then from when I finally
(17:51):
moved to New York post college, Bungalow eight that like
defined an entire Like I mean, I used to not
get into Bungalow.
Speaker 4 (18:00):
Let's be very.
Speaker 2 (18:01):
Clear, like club or was it like a music venue?
Speaker 4 (18:05):
No, bungalowight was a club.
Speaker 1 (18:06):
It was like it was like the heyday of like
models and bottles, right, And I am not a model,
nor can I affid a four, nor can I afford
to buy a bottle, which is why I was never
getting into Bungalow eight. But I finally got in. I
cracked the code, and yeah, I had too much fun
at those places. And then in terms of like music venues,
trying to think of like classic, what was that there
(18:28):
was a place that closed.
Speaker 3 (18:29):
Because I was going to say, you know, it just
hit me like I remember that was my first club.
But then I at my actual first club that I
ever went to was called Don Quinine, and it was
a quads and it was a club until maybe like midnight,
and then at twelve o'clock a live band would come
on and play stuff like and Manna and but they
were like a cover band and they would come from
(18:51):
Argentina and it would turn into them when you could
still dance live music because they would play it like
the song it was just live that's sod. Just I
just remembered that.
Speaker 4 (19:01):
Right now, I'm trying to think of like a Latin
there was. It wasn't a Latin club, but there was
this place. It was downtown. I think it closed, it
like became other things.
Speaker 1 (19:10):
It was sob sounds of Brazil, and I remember going
there like with my friends and like having way too
much fun. But listen, old nineties and two thousands clubs
in New York were just a vibe man like, I
feel sorry for kids today.
Speaker 2 (19:32):
Well, I mean, it'll never be like it was now.
Speaker 1 (19:35):
It's everything true, true, true, And you know, it's easy
to romanticize the good old days of New York live
music venues and clubs. But for as long as there's
been music, musicians in cities like New York have had
to work their way up to big venues like the
Palladium in the city.
Speaker 2 (19:53):
Right, don't get it twisted.
Speaker 3 (19:55):
Musicians on the come up in New York will still
play at European Insanet.
Speaker 1 (20:00):
Or, in Willie Colon's case, the American Legion Club on
one hundred and sixty second and Prospect in the Bronx.
Speaker 3 (20:07):
Wait, so they played salsa for World War two veterans.
Speaker 1 (20:11):
Hey, Latinos did serve in both World wars. Okay, the
more you know, so, yes, these teenagers are playing for
war vets and God bless the troops. But in terms
of crowd size the Palladium this was not Willie and
his band had a shiny new label contract, but he
still needed fans. He just needed someone to listen to
(20:32):
his music.
Speaker 3 (20:33):
So to get that, he needed hits, and to get hits,
he needed a singer, and.
Speaker 1 (20:39):
He would find one right upstairs at the Bonset Social Club,
where another Latin jazz orchestra happened to be playing.
Speaker 2 (20:46):
I'm picturing one of those buildings in k Town where
there's like twelve floors, the karaoke bars and like a nightclub.
Speaker 4 (20:53):
I love those places.
Speaker 1 (20:55):
And a salsa band is crowded enough with just the
percussion section, right, But if any place is going to
make room for the band, it's the Boncees Social Club,
one of many social clubs for Latinos that existed for
decades throughout the city.
Speaker 3 (21:08):
These were gathering places for expats to safely be themselves,
speak Spanish freely, and discussed politics so locally and over in.
Speaker 1 (21:15):
La Patria, and to dance, of course, and at Bonce
they moved to the sounds of a Latin jazz orchestra
named very creatively the New Yorkers.
Speaker 3 (21:26):
They didn't have a catchy name, but they did have
a singer, a gauky looking singer with a big voice.
Speaker 1 (21:33):
A voice that would one day become his namesake, because we're,
of course talking about Hector Juan Perez Martinez, or better
known as Hector Leveaux.
Speaker 3 (21:45):
When Willy visited the Poons Club for the first time,
Hector's voice stopped him in his tracks. The next day
he told Johnny Pocheko, you got to hear this guy.
He brought Johnny to the club and right then and
there they asked Hector to record with the Latin Jazz
All Stars, and Hector said.
Speaker 2 (22:02):
No thanks, leaving Willie confused.
Speaker 3 (22:07):
But nevertheless, this tourus persisted and eventually won Hector over.
So you might ask why the sass well in Hector's eyes,
asking to record wasn't the same as asking to join
the band.
Speaker 1 (22:21):
He found it shady, which spoiler alert did not bode
well for the future. But for now, Hector was in
and thus a legendary duo was formed, one that would
become known as the Bad Boys. Hmmm, Joseph, what's wrong?
Is something glitching in your matrix?
Speaker 2 (22:40):
No, I'm just having some major dejeba right now.
Speaker 3 (22:44):
Two young, hunry Puerto Rican boys with big egos continue
coming up in an underground music scene, giving voice to
the struggle all around them. It's giving that Nikki jam
uh Oh.
Speaker 1 (23:02):
Like Los Congris Wood, decades later, Willis Colonne and Hector
Levau redefined a whole strain of Latin music with a
series of earthshaking records, only to come apart at the
hands of drug abuse and interpersonal drama.
Speaker 3 (23:15):
But that's next week. Kidos on the.
Speaker 4 (23:24):
Next Becoming an Icon, The Rise and Fall of the Bad.
Speaker 2 (23:27):
Boys, Bad Boys, Bad Boys.
Speaker 4 (23:29):
What You're Gonna Do, What You're Gonna Do.
Speaker 1 (23:36):
Becoming an Icon is presented by Sonoo and Iheart's Michael
Duda podcast Network. Listen to Becoming an Icon on the
iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcast, or wherever you get your podcast