For Latine music, 1975 was a year of fulfilled promises; the time when salsa, balada, psychedelic rock, and Brazilian music reached a sweet creative apex. This moment of splendor mirrored the state of popular music on a global scale. 1975 was also the year when artists such as Pink Floyd, Curtis Mayfield, Queen, Patti Smith, Joni Mitchell, and Bob Marley released some of their finest albums. From reggae and early disco to prog-rock and funk, many styles across the globe were busy discovering their own greatness.
After years of building up momentum, the New York salsa explosion reached a symbolic peak, with the Fania record label in full force. In Brazil, the umbrella genre of MPB (música popular brasileira) perfected its omnivorous fusion of samba, rock, jazz, and Afro-folk. And the beloved balada became intricate and ambitious, with baroque instrumentations and a refined sense of smoothness.
Here are 10 essential albums that sum up the greatness of la música latina, 50 years ago.
The second collaboration between Cuban powerhouse Celia Cruz and Fania co-founder Johnny Pacheco was not as iconic as 1974’s Celia & Johnny — the one that kicks off with “Químbara” — but it still packs a punch. Pacheco had come of age as a musician idolizing the classic sessions that Cruz recorded in Cuba with La Sonora Matancera, and the euphoric feeling of being able to work with his favorite tropical diva informs every single cut. From the zesty propulsion of smash hit “Cúcala” to the spiraling beat of merengue “No Aguanto Más,” and the smoldering bolero “No Me Hables De amor,” this is a time capsule of retro tropical goodness.
Juan Gabriel – “A Mi Guitarra”
The cover says it all. A pensive, barefoot Juan Gabriel reclines on a cozy chair, writing a new ballad with his guitar — the portrait bathed in the garish color scheme that defined most of the ‘70s. Four years after releasing his debut, the self-taught Juanga had already demonstrated a prodigious gift for channeling the misfortunes of romantic love into addictive pop hooks. So candid was his enthusiasm at the time that we are more than ready to forgive the childlike la-la-lahs that open the sweet-toothed title track, complete with harpsichord lines. “Nuestro Amor Es el Más Bello del Mundo,” he sings, and you just have to believe him.
Eddie Palmieri – “Unfinished Masterpiece”
Nuyorican salsa radicalist Eddie Palmieri was riding a wave of inspiration in 1975. He had released one of the most electrifying albums of his career — the Grammy-winning The Sun Of Latin Music — and his band had enlisted young vocalist and future salsa romántica star Lalo Rodríguez. But when his new label, Coco Records, released his latest session prematurely, Palmieri called it Unfinished Masterpiece and took a break from the business. This is progressive salsa of the highest caliber, with lovely touches of dissonance and adrenaline that fuel “Cobarde” and “Óyelo Que Te Conviene.” On the solo piano workout “Random Thoughts,” Palmieri merges the acid hues of psychedelia with boricua folk patterns.
Silvio Rodríguez – “Días y Flores”
It opens with the wide-eyed tenderness of “Como Esperando Abril,” with its sunny melody and wistful orchestral touches. But there’s also the sobering political resistance of “Playa Girón,” the Brechtian hallucination of “Sueño con Serpientes,” and the unabashed romanticism of “En el Claro de la Luna.” Silvio Rodríguez’s triumphant debut may well be the most epic album in the history of Cuban music, and that’s saying a lot. It reinvented the venerable trova movement with the steely conviction of its own poetry. On the nocturnal “La Vergüenza” — so fragile, you almost hesitate to breathe — he muses about the dignity of poverty over an exquisite melody woven on acoustic piano and guitar.
Nara Leão – “Meu Primeiro Amor”
Perhaps because she died so young — she left this plane in 1989, aged 47 — Nara Leão is rarely remembered for what she was: one of Brazilian music’s most transcendent singers. At the beginning of her career, she was smack in the middle of the bossa and tropicália movements, but her eclectic songbook gravitated to traditional samba and tunes by lesser-known composers. This lilting, sparsely arranged studio effort features a full band and lovely samba choruses, but focuses mostly on Nara’s voice — she shines like a ray of sunlight.
El Gran Combo – “7”
Puerto Rico’s El Gran Combo released its debut album in 1962 and remained incredibly prolific during the ‘60s. 1975 found the orchestra led by piano player Rafael Ithier enjoying a period of opulence that lasted well into the mid-‘80s. Even though El Combo incorporated the grit of the salsa explosion that was peaking in New York, 7 maintains the velvety elegance that defines the band’s identity; the grooves glide forward anchored on restrained trumpet riffs and Ithier’s rock-solid piano patterns. Star vocalist Andy Montañez would defect two years later, but his ragged soneos shine on anthemic salsa jams like “Un Verano En Nueva York,” famously sampled by Bad Bunny on the recent “NUEVAYoL.”
Invisible – “Durazno Sangrando”
The late Argentine rock guru Luis Alberto Spinetta burst into the Buenos Aires scene with the 1969 debut of classic band Almendra, but that was only the beginning of his long and winding road. By 1975, Spinetta had become increasingly esoteric, exploring the Tao and Jungian philosophy through knotty sonic cathedrals informed by jazz fusion and progressive rock. The second of three albums he recorded with angular trio Invisible — joined by Machi Rufino on bass and Pomo Lorenzo on drums — Durazno Sangrando opens with a 15-minute track (ay, the ‘70s), but blossoms on the gorgeous title track. The constipated censorship of the time was left wondering: was that the pit of a peach or a vagina depicted on the album cover?
Roberto Carlos – “Roberto Carlos”
By the time he recorded his fifteenth, self-titled studio album in 1975, Roberto Carlos had left the jangly rock’n’roll roots of his ‘60s output behind, emerging as the Brazilian equivalent of a Julio Iglesias. This is silky Latin pop, heavy on the sweet hooks and a refreshing emotional immediacy. Roberto’s partnership with visionary singer/songwriter Erasmo Carlos — no relation — was still in full force, and tracks like “O Quintal do Vizinho” and the samba-lite hit “Além do Horizonte” boast the warm sheen of classic ‘70s balada.
Héctor Lavoe – “La Voz”
The closest that salsa got to a mercurial rock star, Héctor Lavoe led the Afro-Caribbean explosion of the early ‘70s through the gasoline-fueled albums he recorded with trombonist Willie Colón. Lavoe’s lack of discipline effectively ended their partnership, but Colón remained producer on his friend’s solo debut — an immaculate LP that glows with swing and warmth. “El Todopoderoso” is unflinching in its narrative of Christian martyrdom, while the anthemic “Mi Gente” (“cuidado que por ahí vienen los anormales,” he quips) celebrates the singer’s love affair with his devoted fans. Lavoe died in 1993, aged 46. This is one of the sessions that cemented his reputation as a legend.
Mercedes Sosa - “A que florezca mi pueblo”
Unlike most of her nueva canción contemporaries, Mercedes Sosa did not write her own songs. However, much of her repertoire remains associated with the purity of her voice. A lesser-known session, A Que Florezca Mi Pueblo is peerless, boasting a lovely selection of songs, including the crystalline “Marrón” and the solemn title track, an anthem of hope. Four years later, Sosa would be driven into exile by Argentina’s brutal military dictatorship.
