This week’s Al compás del mundo earns a pair of dedications. Primarily, to Las Folkloristas, a group of Mexican musicians who first came together in 1966 and who continue to the present day, delighting their public and educating them as to the breadth of folk music genres and instrumentation found in every corner of Latin America. The second dedication is to me and my sweetheart wife Claudia – we met at a concert of Los Folkloristas at the Sala Agora in Mexico City, in 1976. And yes, we too are still together. Get out your handkerchiefs and dry your eyes because there’s a story to be told as evidence that there’s a soulmate out there for everyone. You just have to make the effort to look, even if it takes you to a foreign land. And so it goes like this: I spent all of 1976 living in Mexico City, ostensibly to learn Spanish, but en realidad to loaf around, drink beer, practice my saxophone, and maybe, just maybe, look to meet a señorita. I lived in a pension (boardinghouse) owned by Jul

  In plotting out the next program I’ll often come up with a single song that has stuck in my craw as a foundation. From there the playlist either leaps forward or limps along grimly. The guilty party, in this case, was Zappa’s tour de orchestral force. Ok, I’ll play that. But what goes with it? Long and drawn-out contemplation led to the baker’s dozen of tunes listed here. Also, some dialing around and the tossing of darts to see how fate would have it. I believe I’ve scored in most measures: Kafka and Kronos lead off with a pair of classic tunes that most every Mexican will recognize (this  is  a Mexican radio station, you’ll recall), though with a few screeks and scronks to distinguish them from the pack and lend them an artsy-fartsy air. Kiyohiko Senba and his Haniwa All-Stars offer a logical progression if you’re looking for atypical takes and quirky notions. And then comes Peaches – very much not a novelty tune like some of Zappa’s work – a seriously clever and compelling arrange

  It took till program #97 before I finally gave in and played some punk music. I’ve given it thought on numerous occasions but always figured my Mexican audience would be quick to change the radio dial. I shouldn’t underestimate them though. Mexico has had a significant punk culture and thirteen of those former nihilists probably work as stock brokers within 50 miles of the RadioactivaTX antenna – 89.9fm if you’re in the neighborhood (or maybe stream it, no?) And I even picked groups that actually, mostly, know how to play their instruments! By the way: Manic Hispanic rules. You can’t argue with “to be a cholo is my fate” because life is like a box of chocolates: you never know what you’re going to get…no, wait, that’s not even close to the truth. You grow up in South Central LA as a brown-skin man and you’re pretty much set on the path to cholo-ism. Simón! Oh, and also this: “El Rey” leading off the set is one of the all-time greatest and dearest macho Mexican tunes ever conceived (m

  Reporting from San Francisco this week, though the program up was conjured in the town of Tequisquiapan, in the state of Queretaro, in the country of old Mexico. And this bi-national effort hopes to make the world an even smaller place by bouncing around the planet, sampling sounds of disparate peoples, hither and yon, speaking in voices that are ever more familiar due to promotions of unity and acceptance blah, blah, blah. What have we in common with human beings on the other side of the globe? Maybe there’s a clue found in the segues from song to song. Legions of listeners to Al compas del mundo have pestered me with one basic question: “What’s up with those segues?” So let’s take a closer look. There’s most definitely a logic behind selections, despite the apparent randomness one might perceive. A perfect example will be the current playlist. To begin: Baby Huey was one of my favorite cartoon characters as a kid growing up in the 1950’s – a perfect place to start. “War’s” a proper