Chávez Ravine

by

Ry Cooder

Edit

It's not just that Ry Cooder has been producing albums for more than 35 years -- many of them solidly thematic, like the 1971 "Into the Purple Valley." He's more than a terrific guitarist (slide, originally, but now almost anything within the guitar world, and including, now, at least a dozen other instruments). He's done fine film soundtracks, some of his most sonorous work, and some earnest vocals, which he's better at than John Fahey or Leo Kottke and various other virtuoso guitarists, and he's improving still more. And he's a genius in popularizing and producing other sounds, which we all know of, and attained a degree of controversy with the *Buena Vista* albums and his assistance lent to an ascendancy of Caribbean, and especially Cuban, music.

But why buy THIS album? How about 'cause it's stone-cold brilliant, capturing the late 1940s and 50s when the polyglot but predominantly Hispanic neighborhood at Chávez Ravine was displaced to allow what would become "Dodger Stadium" and orderly rows of suburban housing to replace the slightly hectic disorder previously there. But understand that this isn't a rabble-rousing album, or a call to arms; it's a reminder of what's gone by, hearkening to Don Normark's photographic study (also called *Chavez Ravine*, 1999), and it recognizes the fanatically purposeful energy that channelized and paved the L.A. River (see Blake Gumprecht's *L.A. River*, now in paperback). I'll take this musical treatment (with plenty of voices in it, though, and an astounding variety of themes) over the blunt muckraking of a Mike Davis anyday -- this is inspired stuff, in a huge assortment of styles, bringing in a number of the musical lights of Chávez Ravine in the era. They're mixed together, elegantly, and very nicely produced.

Favorites? The album's a mix of contemporary songs and current-day compositions by Cooder. But I'm a big time fan, on ninth or ten listening, of "Poor Man's Shangri-la," "Onda Callejera," "El U.F.O. Cayó," "Ejercito Militar," and "3rd Base, Dodger Stadium," but it's a "you pick 'em" kind of album -- not one for casual listening, by and large (though there are some that'll be heard as singles). It's to sit down, work to, with part of your brain reserved for the passing of events -- and the exile of residents and importation of the Anglo suburbanites.

The music is a beautiful thing, and having it tied to a story which has a venality we're all familiar with (just look around wherever you live; you'll see) brings the poignancy home -- without any sappy sadness; this is stand-up stuff.

I've been a big fan of Mr. Cooder's previous work (ex., see my customer review of Mambo Sinuendo), but I literally fell asleep while listening to this album. So after listening to it again while AWAKE, I'd like to be more specific about my disappointment. I think the basic problem is the "concept album" idea behind Ry's reflection on an aspect of his SoCal childhood. There are a few mildly catchy and/or entertaining songs, but there's also WAY too much mumbling about topics such as the persecution of suspected "Reds." The vocals are sometimes pretty awful, whether Mr. Cooder's or a guest's. And too many of the songs just drag along with a very slow tempo. I'm sure this will appeal to a very narrow audience of people who live in the Chavez Ravine area, or those interested in California history. But I'm also very sure I won't be the only Cooder fan making a beeline to get rid of this turkey.