No tiene luz, no tiene risa,
Siempre enojada, amarga la brisa.
Ni bella, ni sabia, ni tan especial,
Pero mírala triunfar sin parar.
El ingeniero, un gran señor,
Con solo un gesto cayó de amor.
Dueño de viñas, millonario fiel,
Todos le cantan bajo su cruel laurel.

No hay hechizo, no hay canción,
¡Sólo flaca de condición!

Próximo en la fila,
¡un chasquido y serás mío!
(¡Baila, baila!)
Próximo en la fila,
¡un chasquido y serás mío!
(¡Olé, olé!)

Se queja del sol, se queja del mar,
Y todos la siguen sin preguntar.
Ni arte, ni encanto, ni gran ideal,
Pero nunca falta su carnaval.
Barón del vino, cayó rendido,
Hombre de negocios, confundido,
Toda la ciudad preguntando ya,
¿¡Qué diablos tiene esta mujer acá!?
[Pre-Chorus – claps and muted trumpet riffs]
No hay secretos, no hay pasión,
¡Sólo falta de expansión!

Próximo en la fila,
¡un chasquido y serás mío!
(¡Baila, baila!)
Próximo en la fila,
¡un chasquido y serás mío!
(¡Olé, olé!)

Mírala reír... (no, es solo su ceño fruncido),
Y otro hombre más, ¡perdido, perdido!

Próximo en la fila (Latin Jazz Version)

She walks in — a dream in heels,
A thousand lies behind her deals.
Big plans whispered, velvet sound,
Men just smile and spin around.
Words like castles in the air,
Golden promises — nowhere.
Laughter, looks, the perfect art,
Every glance, another heart.

Wishes sparkle, lips declare,
Tomorrows built on empty air...
We chase, we fall, we never learn,
Another soul for her to burn.

Big words, like big balloons –
Shiny outside, hollow tunes.
Time will show what's real inside –
One small prick, and dreams subside.

Years roll by — she stays the same,
Eternal youth, eternal game.
No wrinkle dares to touch her skin,
Another flood, she lets begin.
Smiles with grace, and talks of dreams,
Fills the skies with empty beams.
The ocean grows, the islands sink,
Another fool, another blink.

Wishes sparkle, lips declare,
Tomorrows built on empty air...
We chase, we fall, we never learn,
Another soul for her to burn.

Big words, like big balloons –
Shiny outside, hollow tunes.
Time will show what's real inside –
One small prick, and dreams subside.

No ground to stand, no sky to fly,
Just broken hearts where oceans lie.
The last safe shore has drowned tonight,
Under the waves of love’s lost fight...

Big words, like big balloons –
Shiny outside, hollow tunes.
Time will show what's real inside –
One small prick, and dreams subside.

Ocean of Broken Hearts (Latin Jazz Version)

(Mm-hmm... Shalala... ahh...)

Shalala I love you, (te amo)
Shalala I need you, (te extraño)
Shalala I lose you, (cada vez)
Every time I please you, (sí, lo sé)
Shalala I'm smarter, (más sabio)
Shalala I'm sadder, (más solo)
Shalala I knew it better —
But it never even mattered! (Bésame... el adiós...)

Mustache groomed, a world so sure,
Blow-dry shining, heart so poor,
First wife mirrored all my flaws,
Two know-it-alls, without applause.
Big fiesta, a wedding bright,
Hundred glasses, neon lights,
But when the music faded slow,
She said: "You're brilliant... but I must go."

Ohhh, every vow like a lovely lie,
Dancing shadows under satin sky...
(Still I waltz with myself tonight...)

Shalala I love you, (sí, te amo)
Shalala I need you, (te necesito)
Shalala I lose you, (cada vez)
Every time I please you, (cada vez)
Shalala I'm smarter, (más sabio)
Shalala I'm sadder, (más roto)
Shalala I knew it better —
But it never even mattered!

Blondie dear, so sweet, so small,
Could have been my daughter’s doll,
Hiding under satin sheets,
While I preached love and worn-out dreams.
The third, the brightest of them all,
I taught her "open hearts don't fall,"
So she opened hers to someone new —
While I played sad songs for my living room crew.

Cigars, bouquets, doves in flight,
Another wedding fades from sight...
The conga drums can't hide my tears,
Another solo dance through the years.

Shalala I love you, (Shalala mi amor)
Shalala I need you, (Shalala por favor)
Shalala I lose you, (cada vez)
Every time I please you, (cada vez)
Shalala I'm smarter, (tan sabio)
Shalala I'm sadder, (tan solo)
Shalala I knew it better —
But it never even mattered...

(Shalala... ahhh... never mattered... adiós...)

The Corny Music Lover (Latin Jazz Version)

There’s a river in my soul, slow and smoky, deep and bold
Branches dancing in the haze, secrets only moonlight told
I stand barefoot near the flame, heart like congas, wild and fast
No road ahead, just pulse and breath—each moment might be my last

What if the treasure’s wrapped in clay?
What if the ghosts still want to stay?
But baby, no—I won’t turn back,
The rhythm leads, I trust the track

🎶 So I dive in, I dive in
Fake a smile 'til joy begins
Let the river kiss my skin
This is life—I dance within
I dive in, I dive in
Not in fear, but fierce with grin
Let the thunder roll and rise
I’ll be glowing when I arrive 🎶

Maybe there’s gold beneath this mud,
Or maybe silence hides the flood
But standing still’s a sweet disguise—
I'd rather fall than fossilize

No gentle voice to guide my way
Just rhythm shadows where I sway
I give my heart, no veil, no mask
And breathe the heat like summer jazz

🎶 So I dive in, I dive in
Fake a smile 'til joy begins
Let the river kiss my skin
This is life—I dance within
I dive in, I dive in
Not in fear, but fierce with grin
Let the thunder roll and rise
I’ll be glowing when I arrive 🎶

No rope to pull, no simple line
Just the clave keeping time
But I’m no glass, I’m not that thin—
I’m maracas, fire, and wind

And if I sink into the sound
I’ll rise up when that groove comes 'round
Not every shadow means retreat—
Some test the fire beneath your feet

🎶 So I dive in, I dive in
Where the dark and light begin
Let it spin me, drown me sweet—
Still I find my dancing feet
I dive in, I dive in
With a soul too loud to dim
Storms may whisper, doubt may cry—
But I’ve got joy they can’t deny 🎶

Take a breath… and sway… and feel…
The deepest waters… teach us real. 🌊

Dive In (Latin Jazz Version)

Clock strikes noon, like soft perfume,
In the hum of the fridge, I taste my gloom.
Concrete thoughts behind my smile,
Steel shelves stretch in cafeteria style.
Black bread wrapped in plastic sleep,
Pork so thin, it barely weeps.
I sit alone, a quiet bard—
Wishing life had a taste less hard.

But oh… across this table sea,
Shines a gold that calls to me.
A tiny tube of fire and grace—
May I borrow just a trace?

🎶 Could I borrow your mustard, just a little touch?
A bit of sun, I don’t ask much.
To lift this meal from cold to bold,
To taste a dream before it’s old. 🎶
🎶 No, I’m not trying to steal your bliss,
Just chasing warmth in a bite like this.
So if you’d share, don’t make it tough—
I’m just a man… who asks too much. 🎶

Eyes down low, I scan the spread,
A hunter for flavors, a heart half-fed.
Each bottle and jar, like treasure gleams,
I sail this sea of lunchtime dreams.
There! A tube, a bit worn down,
Its yellow label like a crooked crown.
And still I ask, with gentle grace:
“May I borrow a bit… just a taste?”

It’s not just food, it’s something more—
A hint of joy, a little lore.
That sacred tang, that final drop—
A borrowed thrill I pray won’t stop.

🎶 Could I borrow your mustard, just a dash?
A golden echo in a lunchbox clash.
Return it? Yes… or maybe no—
But I’ll be grateful, that you know. 🎶
🎶 Some bring wealth, some bring wine—
I bring a dream I hope you’ll sign.
So pass it here, don’t judge, don’t fuss—
I’m just a man… made bold by trust. 🎶

Cold roast pork, a tired bread,
Wrapped in clingfilm like words unsaid.
But give me spice, I’ll find my song—
In mustard heat, I do belong.
Laugh if you will, I won’t pretend—
It’s flavor I crave, not just the blend.
A yellow stream, a gentle crime—
A drop of joy in borrowed time.

🎶 Could I borrow your mustard? One last time,
A little light in this lunchroom rhyme.
I’ll give it back, when dreams return—
Or when the pork no longer burns. 🎶
🎶 No pride, no plan, just hope and crust—
That someone out there lends with trust.
So if I ask, with eyes that plead—
You’ll know it’s just… a mustard need. 🎶

(“A squeeze of fire...
on black bread sorrow.
The taste of hope…
in someone else’s bottle.
Gracias, amigo…”) 🎷

The Mustard Moocher (Latin Jazz Version)

You walked in like summer sin —
Eyes like fire, dressed in grin.
Told me stories soaked in rum,
Said “You’re the one…” — then you ran dumb.

You kissed my hand like I was gold,
But left me shivering, proud and cold.
You made me fall like songs in June…
Then vanished — like a coward’s tune.

How dare you call it fate, then flee?
How dare you taste, then unlove me?
You stirred a flame, then shut the door —
But darling, I’m not crying anymore…

🎵 Señor del sabor — cómo te atreves, mi amor!
You set my sky on fire, then left it poor.
🎵 You touched like thunder, danced like lore…
You made me queen, then called me “whore.”

🎵 Señor del sabor — don’t look back, no more!
You broke the rose, then begged for more.
🎵 I gave you soul — you asked for war.
Now feel the echo of my roar...

You stood there, torn — eyes unsure,
Said “Forgive me…” with a smile too pure.
But your love was dressed in fake perfume,
It faded fast. It left the room.

And still… your name lives on my tongue,
In every dance, in every song.
But I won’t bleed beneath your charm —
You lost the right to hold this arm.

How dare you haunt my favorite song?
How dare you say you did no wrong?
You call this love? You made it art —
Then framed and sold my beating heart…

🎵 Señor del sabor — cómo te atreves, mi flor!
You stole my bloom, then danced the floor.
🎵 You laughed in love, then slammed the door.
You drank my sun, then asked for more.

🎵 Señor del sabor — I’m not yours anymore.
I gave you truth — you wanted lore.
🎵 Now taste regret, taste what you tore…
Your rhythm’s mine — but never more.

And still… if you touched my face…
Would I break again in your embrace?
God help me — I might fall once more…
But not like before. No, not like before.

🎵 Señor del sabor… hear my war.
🎵 My heart’s not yours to taste — no more.
🎵 I danced for love… now I dance for me.
🎵 And your shadow fades in my melody…

Señor del Sabor (Cómo Te Atreves)

This episode explores Afro-Cuban jazz, lyrical hip hop, and cross-cultural musical fusions from across the Cuban Canadian diaspora.

• Alexis Baro • “Tan Lejos” — From the 2022 album Mi Raíz / My Roots.

• Evaristo Machado • “Siempre que Llueve” — Title track from his 2010 album.

• Telmary • “Que Equivoca’o” — A standout cut from A Diario (2006).

• David Buchbinder • “Rumba Judía” — A Cuban-Jewish rumba fusion from Odessa/Havana (2007).

• Alex Bellegarde Quartet • “Timba Tune” — From the jazz-forward 2006 release Caminando.

• Telmary • “Rezo” — A short, rhythmic interlude from A Diario (2006).

Cuban Sounds in Canada: EPISODE 4 (Aired: Monday, November 18, 2025)

Featuring fresh sounds from Quebec’s Boogát and Montreal’s Marion Brunelle alongside Cuban heavyweights Oliver Valdés and Alexis Baro, plus Cuban-adjacent artist Alex Bellegarde, this episode highlights the diverse ways Cuban music resonates across Canada’s musical landscape.

• Oliver Valdés — “Mani” (Nasobuco, 2022) — A dynamic percussion-driven track showcasing Valdés’ powerful drumming and Afro-Cuban roots.

• Boogát, with Okan — “+ Que 1 Chingx” (Del Horizonte, 2024) — A fresh fusion blending Latin hip-hop with contemporary urban sounds from Quebec’s vibrant scene.

• Marion Brunelle (with Alexy, El Tipo Este) — “No Te Mereces” (Ahora Existo, 2018) — A soulful, emotive track blending Afro-Cuban rhythms with smooth vocals.

• Alex Bellegarde — “La Vaca” (Caminando, 2006) — A spirited tune with rich Havana-inspired grooves from the Cuban-adjacent Montreal artist.

• Alexis Baro and Pueblo Nuevo Jazz Project — “Laberinto” (Sugar Rush, 2016) — An intricate jazz piece led by Baro’s trumpet, weaving Afro-Cuban influences into modern jazz.

Cuban Sounds in Canada: EPISODE 11 (Aired Monday, February 24, 2025)

Passion & Resilience (Cuban flute, Colombian speed con shekere & dembele)

Te equivocas hermano

www.wrir.org/2025/11/10/to-sing-is-to-listen-2/

Brand new show in tribute to Bill and his Global A Go-Go, today on Banji Kaicho WRIR 97.3FM 1PM-3 ET. Japanese cumbia, salsa, afro-cuban jazz, rare groove, minyo, dub… a lot of sounds Bill and I often found ourselves circling toward from different directions, and nodding in recognition when we met in the middle. The second hour focuses on African rhythms as they echo through different genres, a reminder of music as conversation across boarders and ages. To quote what Bill named one of his last blog posts on globalagogo.com, “To sing is to listen”. We’ll keep living that mission.

Tadaaki Misago & Tokyo Cuban Boys / Kariboshi Kiri-Uta
Tadaaki Misago & Tokyo Cuban Boys / Tsugaru Jongara
HARIKUYAMAKU / Nachijin-myahkunii
HARIKUYAMAKU / Kuduchi Behshi
Akira Yasuda & Beat Folk / Yumura no Obaba
Kifu Mitsuhashi / Hanagasa Ondo
Minyo Crusaders / Sado Okesa
Minyo Crusaders / Haiya Bushi
ORQUESTA DEL SOL / Rainbow Love
ORQUESTA DEL SOL / Night Ripple
Shigeo Maruyama / Malaika
Sadao Watanabe Meets Inter-African Theatre Group / Pembe Za Watanabe (Watanabe's Horns)
Sadao Watanabe Meets Inter-African Theatre Group / Makanju
Shibuki Maho, Akira Ishikawa & Count Buffaloes / See-Line Woman
Akira Ishikawa & Count Buffaloes / Vita
Ajate / De De
Ajate / Kobockle
Yasuaki Shimizu / Fool On the Hill
Yasuaki Shimizu / Day O

(Disclaimer: I DO NOT own any of these works. Please support artists directly if you enjoyed their music.)

To sing is to listen (for Bill Lupoletti)

Afro-Latin instrumental artist connecting Africa, the Caribbean and the Americas.

Archive of the Queen’s University CFRC radio show “Cuban Sounds in Canada”: Cuban music, made in Canada. Featuring Cuban and Cuban-adjacent musicians

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I’m here for one simple reason: to share my music with you.
Take a listen, explore, and I hope something here resonates with you. Enjoy the vibe!

New tracks tagged #afrocubanjazz