Torres has already shipped 5000 copies of Edwin y Su Son to Latin America and Europe, and songs from the album are being aired on local community station WDNA-FM (88.9). But he is not optimistic about play on Miami's commercial radio. "You get to the station with the new release and the least they could do is listen to it to hear what it is," grouses Torres, who has spent the week making the rounds of local Spanish-language radio stations with the album. "But they don't put it on. They just say, 'Very good, very good. I'll see what I can do.' The minute you leave they probably toss it in the garbage. If you don't have a multinational company behind you, they're deaf to your music. Do you know the amount of talent in this city who aren't getting any opportunity on the radio?"
Despite his frustration with radio programmers, Torres's productions have a solid following among Latin-music aficionados. "Guajiro is one of the most consistent labels around," says New York Times music critic Peter Watrous, who calls Torres's company "the Cuban equivalent" of the famed jazz label Blue Note.
Torres and his wife, Marlen, have kept their label Guajiro Records going for twenty years
A baby-faced, wavy-haired Torres (center) took on New York's nightclub scene with Orquesta Broadway
Torres laid money down for percussionist Edwin Bonilla to cut his first solo album
Former residents of Torres's hometown in Cuba honored the band leader at a recent Miami Beach gala
Young and old danced to the classics into the night
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"Guajiro is one of the best Cuban catalogues of all time," agrees Carlos Suarez of Esperanto Music, who reports consistent if minimal sales of all albums produced by Torres, particularly to foreigners who visit the store. "It's an excellent label but nobody has really paid attention to it all these years."
Despite his constant struggle, Torres says he sells about a million records per year, which is enough to support his family comfortably (he drives a late-model Mercedes). Most of the records are shipped outside the United States to Latin American countries and Europe, but also to Africa.
The company, literally a mom-and-pop operation, couldn't have lower overhead. Torres, his wife Marlen, and her father are Guajiro's only employees. They spend little on packaging and marketing, and as a result they can sell their CDs to distributors and record stores for a few dollars less than other labels. "A lot of our customers are poor people, so we have to make sure the CDs are affordable," Marlen says, noting that many are elderly Latin Americans.
"My market is people who like to dance to Cuban music -- the original kind, not what they're doing now," Torres asserts. "It's music that will never die. I make it simple so people can understand it. It's not for sitting in the corner and listening. My music is for dancing."
On a recent Saturday night, the annual gathering of the Municipality of Güines in Exile is in progress at the Radisson Deauville Resort on Collins Avenue in Miami Beach. Several hundred people in fancy evening clothes sit at tables in the Napoleon ballroom, talking loudly. As they do each year, the former residents of Güines, their children and grandchildren, are catching up. They have come from all over the United States, even as far as Europe, to honor their roots. Waves of laughter erupt around the room as tablemates recount bits of small-town gossip from half a century ago.
Looking smart in his tuxedo, Roberto Torres sits with his wife Marlen, radiant in a white gown, and their 21-year-old daughter Yvette, who works at Ocean Bank. On a large stage at the front of the room a woman with a stiff cloud of dyed-blond hair is belting out a bolero accompanied by taped music. Torres glances at his watch, then gets up and goes out to the lobby to look for his band.
About fifteen minutes later the musicians, who tonight are bright-eyed, freshly shaven, and dressed in dark suits, have gathered in the ballroom at the side of the stage. An elderly former official of Güines is at the microphone, extolling Torres's "internationally distinguished career as an interpreter of Cuban music and the music of the entire Latin American continent."
The band leader is this year's Güines exile man of the year. He steps onstage to receive a large plaque from the master of ceremonies, looking as pleased as if he were accepting a Grammy Award. The musicians take their places. As the band begins to play, couples immediately rush to the dance floor. Torres's voice is clear and resonant, his smile broad. Flanked by two back-up vocalists, he dances in place, dipping and turning to the beat.
When the song ends, a stooped old man who has been with dancing with his wife cups his hands. " Azucar!" he shouts.
Torres grins. He greets the audience, then gives a nod to the musicians. "Here's one all of you out there will remember," he says, and begins to sing.
Click underlined tracks to hear Real Audio sound samples
(You need Real Audio player to hear sound files.)
LO MEJOR DE ROBERTO TORRES
From "Caballo Viejo"
From "Echale Salsita"
EDWIN Y SU SON
From "Las Islas del Sabor"
From "Consulta en Guanabacoa"
