The Death Of Tango

After a brief tribute to the neighborhood of Mataderos, in Buenos Aires, we went into a special show dedicated to musicians who dedicated music to other musicians.

Coming up: a new edition of The Death of Tango, on WPRB Princeton, wprb.com and 103.3 FM

Enjoy!

comodebeser:

My new sounds:

Hoy en The Death of Tango on WPRB: Lucio Arce, La Guardia Hereje, Guillermo Fernández & Luis Longhi, Soledad Francia, Daniel Melingo, Gabriela Torres, Jacqueline Sigaut JACQUELINE SIGAUT - TANGO), Sandra Luna & Juan Esteban Cuacci, Hernán CUCUZA Castiello & Moscato Luna - Guitarrista, Horacio Salgán, VINICIO CAPOSSELA, Luis Cardei y muchos otros!

Starting at 11 AM on www.wprb.com and 103.3 FM

Tango of the day. A really heart-chilling story about a man who gets killed on his wedding day

Live tango music in Brooklyn tonight

Adam Tully, Octavio Brunetti and Emilio Teubal perform together at Pane E Vino in Brooklyn. Hope to see you there :) 8:30 - 11 PM at 174 Smith St

comodebeser:

My new sounds:

Listen to the Death of Tango, coming up in 32 minutes on WPRB.com and 103.3 FM. A lot of great new music plus a very short segment devoted to the singer Luis Correa

One of the first songs we heard during yesterday’s show about Enrique Santos Discepolo (find it on http://www.soundcloud.com/deathoftango) was “Esta noche me emborracho” (I’m getting drunk tonight). Listener Adam reminded me that, in Francisco Garcia Jimenez’s book “Asi nacieron los tangos”, we can find the real story behind this beautiful song:*there is also a great anecdote in García Jiménez’ book about the birth of Esta noche me emborracho:  The tango’s plot came from real life: Discépolo was with a friend who saw his estranged ex come out of a cabaret early in the morning and the two of them noticed that she had aged and was in terrible shape.  He later absorbed the story, felt it from his own perspective, and decided upon the key phrase – ‘tonight I’m getting drunk.’ After painstakingly completing the lyrics and melody, he took it to a learned musician who created a lead sheet.  Discépolo then carried the piece of paper around, rolled up in his pocket, until one night he decided to bring it to a cabaret where Azucena Maizani was performing.  Backstage Maizani agreed to have a look.  Her pianist looked with disdain and the skinny, strange poet, who handed him a piece of paper that was so badly rolled up that it fell of the stand.  Discepolo had to retrieve it on his knees and literally come crawling back for a second chance. Maizani tried to make out the melody and the pianist struggled through the chords.  When it finally seemed to come together in a halfway decent way, one of the show girls said ‘that’s beautiful.’ Slowly but surely the rest of the cast and crew took notice and the second run-through was better than the first.  Pretty soon everyone was singing the song backstage.  Of course it made a successful debut that night and before long had travelled through the audience, out the door, and all through the city until it became a bona fide hit.  Years later Discépolo couldn’t remember which girl had been the one to comment, but he said, ‘she was an angel disguised as a show girl.’

One of the first songs we heard during yesterday’s show about Enrique Santos Discepolo (find it on http://www.soundcloud.com/deathoftango) was “Esta noche me emborracho” (I’m getting drunk tonight). Listener Adam reminded me that, in Francisco Garcia Jimenez’s book “Asi nacieron los tangos”, we can find the real story behind this beautiful song:

*there is also a great anecdote in García Jiménez’ book about the birth of Esta noche me emborracho:  The tango’s plot came from real life: Discépolo was with a friend who saw his estranged ex come out of a cabaret early in the morning and the two of them noticed that she had aged and was in terrible shape.  He later absorbed the story, felt it from his own perspective, and decided upon the key phrase – ‘tonight I’m getting drunk.’
 
After painstakingly completing the lyrics and melody, he took it to a learned musician who created a lead sheet.  Discépolo then carried the piece of paper around, rolled up in his pocket, until one night he decided to bring it to a cabaret where Azucena Maizani was performing.  Backstage Maizani agreed to have a look.  Her pianist looked with disdain and the skinny, strange poet, who handed him a piece of paper that was so badly rolled up that it fell of the stand.  Discepolo had to retrieve it on his knees and literally come crawling back for a second chance.
 
Maizani tried to make out the melody and the pianist struggled through the chords.  When it finally seemed to come together in a halfway decent way, one of the show girls said ‘that’s beautiful.’ Slowly but surely the rest of the cast and crew took notice and the second run-through was better than the first.  Pretty soon everyone was singing the song backstage.  Of course it made a successful debut that night and before long had travelled through the audience, out the door, and all through the city until it became a bona fide hit.  Years later Discépolo couldn’t remember which girl had been the one to comment, but he said, ‘she was an angel disguised as a show girl.’