TBY Lost Afterparty V - 1926-1927
Dag Stenvoll and Michael Lavocah · 2021-03-10 · 2:43:30
A 'Lost Afterparty' that lets Dag Stenvoll, who missed the main 1926-27 broadcast through illness, catch up on the year and play listener-requested tracks that Michael Lavocah didn't use. The year sits at tango's technological hinge: the switch from acoustic to electrical recording during 1926 opens up the sound of the orchestras, especially the bandoneón. Victor, having lost its biggest star Fresedo to rival label Odeon, responds by building its own house orchestra (Orquesta Típica Victor) out of session musicians it can never lose. Pedro Maffia and Pedro Laurenz's bandoneón duets, born almost by accident when Maffia's new band wasn't yet recording, turn out to be a direct root of Aníbal Troilo's later style, while Julio De Caro's harmonically adventurous arrangements already point decades ahead, at the cost of being hard to dance to. Firpo and Canaro still dominate by prestige and sheer output respectively, but it is Fresedo, 'unplugged' and still playing his own bandoneón solos, whom Lavocah names his favourite orchestra of the year.
What this episode gave Tangopedia
Facts said in the episode, each now cited to the minute it is said.
In 1927 alone, Canaro recorded over 350 tracks by himself, an extraordinary rate of production.
Canaro was still in Paris at this time; his orchestra's 1926 recordings were actually directed by Minotto, and even into early 1927 it may still have been Minotto rather than Canaro himself.
A violinist (heard as 'Vodaro'/'Vardaro') appears as an uncredited session player on many Victor and Maglio recordings of this era, recognizable by his tone, though he never led a commercially successful band of his own.
Pracánico was both Electra's musical/artistic director and the composer of well-known tangos including 'Corrientes y Esmeralda' and 'Mentira.'
French labor law made it hard for foreign musicians to get work permits, so touring Argentine tango bands registered as 'foreign artistes' rather than musicians and had to perform, and even travel between gigs, in gaucho costume.
Records played · 31
Transcript
Transcribed by machine from the audio, then punctuated; names may be misheard. Tap any line to hear it. The episode is in English, and so is its transcript.
Now playing
A record not yet identifiedRosita Quiroga & Agustín Magaldi0:00 / 2:39
Warm-up track before the main program; a tender, prayer-like duet that Stenvoll says he saved from the main show but liked as an opener.
♪ Music · 2:39 ·
It wasn't that nice? A little beautiful song by Rosita Quiroga and Agustín Magaldi.
So I've been studying in the past week, or shall I tell this later? Are you going to play any of these combos later? Not combos, no. So. Okay, so I have to tell it now. Yeah.
She discovered him and got him on the radio station, and because she was already a star in 1924, and this young guy turns up called Agustín Magaldi, and he plays, and they go, oh no, it's rubbish. We don't want him. And she goes and talks to the people at the ready and says, no, no, he's good. You've got to take him. So she launched his career with these.
All right, great. And it's a beautiful song, very tender and sort of tango. So I didn't want to play it in the main program, but it's nice as a warm up thing. Lovely.
And the next song also will be in the Tango universe, but not the tango. It's Roberto Firpo with his jazz band. Listen to this.
Firpo's jazz-band side project, played to show tango's overlap with the jazz orchestras of the same era.
♪ Music · 4:25 ·
A Russian romance (not tango) about a man left alone, played for its 'deep Slavonic sadness,' similar in feeling to tango lyrics.
All right, for those of you with a bit rusty Russian, this was Pyotr Leshchenko singing Stakanchiki granyonye. Which means what? It's a kind of robust glass. Glass with some kind of structure in it. And it was mass produced by the Soviets since it was very functional. They say you could drop it from about a meter onto a concrete floor and it wouldn't break.
But this song is about this guy who is left by his girlfriend and he's singing about the glass is falling off the table and there's no one there to pick it up. So it's a really sad. It's kind of tango lyric, but it's not about any, it's not about revenge or anything. It's more this kind of sadness about being left alone in life.
The deep Slavonic sadness. Yeah, exactly.
Dag, it's wonderful to have you back. Welcome.
Yeah, good to see all of you. Yes. And welcome, welcome back, I should say, to 1927 and a little bit of 1926, to use Michael's words from last week.
Yeah, so you're all here and what nerds you are. I mean, you already listened to three hours of music from this year's last week, and now you're back for more. Of this hissing old scratchy stuff from the prehistory.
Yeah, and as most of you know, I was sick last week. So Michael, he did a wonderful, of course, job selecting music and doing this all by himself. But I felt really sorry that I wasn't able to play the suggestions, some of the suggestions that many of you sent to me because I asked for suggestions. And Michael didn't listen at all to me when I sent him his playlist. He made his own choices, which makes perfectly sense when you're doing a program, three hour program by yourself of course.
But thanks for everyone, for about 20 of you sent me songs for this program, and it's been a pleasure listening to your suggestions. And I really like this part of this concept, this like dialogue with you as listeners, and listening to your suggestion was a pleasure for me. And yeah, here we are.
And Michael, maybe some of the listeners weren't here last week. And maybe you could say just very short, why do we count 26 and 27 as the earliest years of tango music relevant for us dancers? Because there was tango before this, right?
Indeed. I mean, the orchestra Typica was invented around 1909. So we are 15, well, nearly 20 years into the development of the Orchesta Typica. But it's just starting to get a lot more interesting musically. The bandoneons are beginning to take a lot more space in the music. And then finally, during the course of 1926, the acoustic recording system is replaced by the electrical one, which greatly increases the bandwidth, the frequency range, and also the dynamic range, the difference between the loudest and quietest sounds on the records.
That benefits the orchestras. With the vocalists, particularly with a baritone like Carlos Gardel, the acoustic system wasn't too much of a problem. But for the orchestras, it makes a big difference to how much we can hear and appreciate what they're doing. So a very interesting time. In one way, prehistory, but in another way, quite a long way down the line of development.
Yeah, and you played some 30 or so song last week and um that's just a fraction of the 15 to 1500 to 2000 recordings from this year. So when we just look at the big three, because we've got a big different big three back here, we've got um Firpo, Canaro and Fresedo. And in 1927 Canaro records over 350 tracks just by himself.
Yeah. It's extraordinary production.
Let's start with Canaro. And it wasn't the easiest task to choose a couple of recordings from his immense output. And in fact, I didn't get much suggestions from you about Canaro. I don't know if it's because you don't like it or if it's just too overwhelming to...
Me, me, me, me, me. Yeah, but you don't count. Too late. You don't count. But I want to play a couple of tracks from 1927. And I think you said in last week that Canaro was still in Paris at this point. So he's not really there, is he? Is Minotto directing the orchestra?
If it's a 1926 recording, it's definitely Minotto directing. Okay, this is 27. And it depends when it is, because he doesn't get back to a march or so. So, you know, they've probably already recorded another hundred tracks by then. So maybe it's back. It doesn't matter. Anyway, it's under the name of Canaro.
And I want to start with the waltz because that's not so common from this period. But there's a really nice waltz called María. And I like the, it's a simple waltz, but I really like the piano in this. It's really some nice, simple, but beautiful piano playing. And I think Canaro must have liked it a lot, too, because he did record it under the acoustic system at the beginning of 26, and then he records it again in 27 with the new electrical system.
Oh, right. I didn't know that. Okay.
And the second song is the tango Sangre Azul, Blue Blood. And I like this one. There's a beautiful violin counter melody in this one and this delicate piano playing. And I was, maybe Michael, I mean, we talked about this many, many times, this counter melody, but could you just say a very few words what is a counter melody in tango?
So in music the tune that you sing to yourself is the melody, which in some languages we don't even have two words, and then a second melody that is not the main melody but harmonizes with the first one is called a counter melody, or in classical music it's often called counterpoint, and it can take different forms. It can be a true second melody that's quite sophisticated and perhaps a bit overwhelming in a dance environment, or it can be something a bit simpler. For example, the loose obligato parts, often done with singing violin, with sustained notes that kind of wind around the main melody. So they are counter melodies, but they're a bit simpler. And a lot of the variations, they're also counter melodies because they vary around a pre-existing melody. So, obligato parts and variaciones are the two main kinds of counter melody in tango music.
All right, so listen for that in the second song. But first, there was María, and then the tango Sangre Azul, Francisco Canaro, 1927.

A simple vals Canaro liked enough to record twice: acoustically in early 1926, then again electrically in 1927; picked for its delicate piano playing.
♪ Music · 2:30 ·

Picked for its violin counter-melody (obbligato) against delicate piano; used to explain what a counter-melody is.
Isn't that sweet? And someone said Oriental. Yes, it's an Oriental style quotation. I have no idea what it's doing there. The tango does exist recorded by Lomuto and Maglio in the same year, so my homework after the show is to go and listen to those again and see if they employ the same technique. But yeah, very sweet, quite simple music, wasn't it really? But there's a lot of syncopation in this.
I'm thinking about what you said in earlier programs about Canaro and his sort of influence on the European tango, which is very square without almost any syncopation at all. But at this point Canaro has a lot of syncopation in his music. Well, there was syncopation, but the syncopation was in the melody, so they were kind of forced to do it. It's not a syncopation in accompaniment, I think.
Okay, so it's a different form of syncopation. Yes. This is something very special about dance music, isn't it? Not just tango, but jazz music as well. It has this thing called melodia rhythmica, rhythmic melody. So the melody is often presented in a rhythmic fashion rather than a melodic fashion.
I mean, here the accompaniment and the melody are much closer together. It's a simpler presentation. So if we take that little riff, when we listen to that, the bandoneon and the piano were playing the same notes, what we would call tutti playing, tutti, everyone, everyone playing the same thing. And that happened quite a lot there. When the violin came and did its obligato counter melody, its solo, then you had two different tunes being presented. But most of the time, or it alternated, let's say, alternated between passages like that and tutti passages. And even in another couple of years, that will more or less have gone away. It's going to become more harmonically interesting.
Yeah. All right. And last week you said that Canaro and the next band I'll play, Lomuto, they both didn't really, they weren't so good at this point, you said, that when Charlo entered, they kind of developed and it took them up a couple of levels.
I feel that Charlo brings their level up. It adds a class. And not just to the vocal numbers, but to the orchestras in general. It's kind of an influence. Well, somehow, yes, it's a bit mysterious. But there are the percentage of numbers that Canaro makes in the following year which do have estribillos, it's very, very high.
Well, this year I mean, I didn't say it in an introduction, but they're almost just instrumentals from 27, and it's interesting. Yeah, so much instrumentals. I was reflecting on that. Charlo actually has a huge impact on the musical scene, in a way more than any other vocalist ever does in terms of dance music, because he kind of brings about this change. It's almost down to him that the estribagista cements his place within the orchestra. And none of the great names of the 40s were really doing that. Maybe Troilo and Fiorentino in 38, but we don't have the evidence unfortunately on record, so we can't really tell.
So he was more important as a singer than the most famous singers like Gardel and Cosini and Agostino. In a strange way, as dancers, he seems to be pivotal in this change.
Well, Lomuto, let's listen to two instrumental numbers, because I don't remember if there were any vocals, but I chose two instrumentals. The first one is called Bacán fulero, which I have no idea what it means. Do you know? Bacán is a rich guy, isn't it? Who likes spending his money and is quite happy to splash the cash so long as he's got a pretty girl on his arm. Okay. And fulero, I don't know. Someone will help out in the chat window. And the second song is Lagrimitas, Small Tears.
I like this Bacán fulero because it has really delicate piano playing, I think, because thinking about Lomuto, it's kind of you have this really heavy beat usually from this time. And I guess there is I have a beat here as well, I can't really remember. But what I noticed about this song is this really delicate piano and also a violin counter melody towards the end, towards the end, which is very special. So but let's listen to this too. Francisco Lomuto with Bacán fulero and Lagrimitas.

Picked for its delicate piano against Lomuto's usual heavy beat.
♪ Music · 2:30 ·

Paired with Bacán fulero; noted for a violin counter-melody late in the piece.
It's not nice. Simple and charming. I guess that's what we learn listening to this music. You don't need complicated stuff to be charmed and to enjoy yourself. Yeah.
And Firpo had also a version of this the same year. And for some reason, I don't know, this recording reminds me of Firpo. There's something about the violins. It could have been Firpo, but maybe it's a bit too fast. Firpo's violins would wail a little bit more. Yeah, you would prefer that one. He likes the massed wailing sound, really deep vibrato. But the violin solo was very touching, and I don't know who the player was.
So let's move on to the house orchestra of the Victor company, Orquesta Típica Victor. And you said in last week, Michael, you said that at some point this year, Fresedo, or not this year, it's 27, Fresedo quit or changed to Audion, and Victor needed some replacement. So they started their own orchestra to fill the vacuum by Fresedo's leaving.
That's exactly right. In several senses, they needed to replace the lost sails because Odeon had all the biggest stars now. Gardel, Canaro, Firpo, and then they had Fresedo as well. So all the really big selling stars were now with Odeon. But it was a really strategic tactic. If you've got a band that's named after your record company, it cannot leave you and go to someone else, so you can't ever lose that artist. And what's more, you don't have to put up with the whims of the orchestra director. He can't demand more money because it's a band made up largely of session musicians, yeah, that you put in place there. So it gives a lot of control to the Victor company, and the results are very pleasing musically as well, and bring a lot of satisfaction, but there was some really hard economics behind the creation of this band. That's what I want to say.
Chapter · 34:17
Victor Built Its Own Orchestra So It Could Never Lose a Star Again
When Fresedo defected to a rival label, Victor didn't find a replacement. It built one that could never leave.
Yeah, and we were talking about this on the weekend because I sent you, when I sent you the playlist, I also was talking about, uh, last week I was talking about the OTV recordings from this year, and I was interested in this dark, uh, dark string instruments on that. I think, is it a violin or is it a viola? And you said, well, it couldn't be a viola because, uh, this is too early for viola, it must be a cello maybe if it's dark. And we had a chat on this on the weekend. Did you find out what it is, uh, this, uh, low obligato string instrument?
Well, um, I had a long Zoom call with my friend Florian in Zurich about this, and we listened very carefully, or he listened very carefully and I listened to what he said. So it depends on the notes, and something I realized after the call that a lot of the songs of the OTV are in the same key, which is, um, C minor or G, and then the lowest note in the solo, the obligato string solo that you'll get, will be a G, which is a note that's the very lowest note that can be played via violin. But there's one of these songs from 1927, Barra Universitaria, which is not in C minor or G. It's in F sharp minor, and the solo goes down to an F sharp. So that's not a violin, and it doesn't sound like a cello. So we think it's a viola, in which case that would be the first time that that's ever happened in recorded tango music. So a historic moment. We discover the little nugget.
Chapter · 36:02
The First Viola in Tango
A dark, low note nobody could place, until two tango nerds solved a 95-year-old mystery.
“So that's not a violin, and it doesn't sound like a cello... in which case that would be the first time that that's ever happened in recorded tang[o] music.”
Fantastic. So let's hear this. Barra Universitaria. It's an instrumental from 27.
And I think you also wrote on the weekend that it's not likely that they slow down the song. Because sometimes they speed up the song. They sped up the songs. But not the other way around. With very old songs, sometimes there's a real confusion about what the speed was recorded at in the first place. But that confusion has pretty much gone by now. And the problem that we suffer from is, by and large, things being speeded up in order to sound more exciting, more like 40s music or 60s music. Songs being slowed down. No, we don't seem to get that in tango music. So we don't have conclusive proof, but it seems very unlikely that this is a slowed down song. Listening to it, it sounds as though this is the key it was played in. So let's listen to it. Barra Universitaria with the Orquesta Típica Victor from 1927. And listen out for the low obligato string instrument quite early in the song.
Played to test a mystery low string solo; its key (F# minor, dipping to F#) rules out a violin, pointing to what may be the first viola on a tango record.
Yeah, interesting to listen to this slow. And it was interesting music all over. I think Petrucelli is still the musical director, so he'd been with Di Caro for a bit. The little break with the a cappella piano solo, interesting music. If it's, I don't know, if it's a viola or if it's a violin, do you think Vardaro is playing here? I mean, there's higher solos as well.
No, if Vardaro had been playing, we'd have recognized him. And he's still playing occasionally, I think with, is he still playing with Odeon sometimes at this point? We only really get to hear him a little bit later. Although there are quite a few recordings on Victor where you can hear Vardaro playing. If Vardaro's playing, you know, basically, from the tone. Yeah. I don't hear him here. Right.
Well, let's listen to one more OTV song. This is a song that is called Confesión, but it's not the one, the Confesión that you know of. It's a different one. And it's recorded really early. It's from June 1926. So it's really early in the electrical recording phase. Yes, but being that it's on Victor, this is still an electrical recording. Odeon don't go electric until November. So, yeah, check this out. It's OTV Confesión Instrumental from 1926.
An early OTV electrical recording (Odeon wasn't electric until November 1926); praised for its spacious, soft, almost hypnotic sound.
I love this one. I find it very spacious and sensitive in a way, more than maybe most of all TV recordings from later years, which is more like... I see what you mean. Yes, a softer presentation. Very soft. Yes, again, very charming, relatively advanced compared to some of the other things that's going on, and almost a slightly hypnotic quality to it. Yeah. Yeah. And I just love the little piano riff that the piece kicked off with. Yeah. Slightly different, very unexpected. Yeah, it is.
Right. Female singers. You played, Michael, last week, you played Rosita Quiroga, Asusana Maizani, two of the old school singers. And you also played one song by the new girl in town, Libertad la Marca. Yeah, she's the new school. Yeah, new school, yeah. It's so interesting. In those voices, you really hear the transition that tango is currently making from the out of the city center.
Yeah, and let's hear another, like a new type of voice, Mercedes Simone, who is 23 years old in 1927. She recorded a couple of tangos and one of them is called El morito, and she's backed by guitars. And she's, yeah, she's one of the likes, uh, Libertad de Marquez, she has this more refined voice for the cabarets. I think you said last week perhaps for a richer clientele as tastes change, right? Yeah. Anyway, let's listen to it. Uh, I couldn't find the lyrics for this one, so if any of you, uh, Spanish speakers can catch the meaning of this song, I'd be interested to see it in the chat window. But, uh, what does El morito mean, you know, Michael? Well, El moro, um, well, there is a tango called El moro, so Moro literally a moor, possibly a dark person, but more likely the tango El moro is named after a horse. So El morito is now the little moor, so we don't know if it's a person or a horse. It could be a reference to a person. So something in the animal area. Without the lyric, we really can't tell. Yeah, okay. Let's listen to the lyric, or those of you who understand Spanish better than I do, and see what it's about. Mercedes Simone, El morito, con guitarra. This is from 1927.
One of Simone's earliest recordings, backed by guitars; played partly to debate whether 'el morito' refers to a horse or a person (the lyrics suggest a person).
So people in the chat window saying she's probably not singing about a horse, but about a guy. I don't think it was a horse, but I couldn't catch the lyric. Yeah. But yeah, it's interesting with her, um, she was 22 at this, so this is one of her earliest recording, I think. I think Mercedes Simone is one of my favorites, maybe the favorite, uh, woman singer, a woman, um, solo singer of tango. I mean, we listen to many programs and so much nice stuff. Yes, and I had to say there's a sincerity about her voice, but it's a fine voice, but it's not so fine as Libertad La Marques. But it has real, yeah, it has a depth to it that we also get from the more Araba Lera voices of Chiroga and Maizani. So it sort of sits in the middle. Roots and class and quality.
If I could only take one female tango singer to my desert island, it would be her. I totally agree. Maybe the three of us can have a tango party at some time. That's the time machine we've been talking about, time-travelling machine, just waiting for it to be constructed so we can go back to these times.
Next orchestra on my list we've never listened to before, I think, it's a guy called Francisco Pracánico. He was a pianist and composer, which is what he's most known for. And he was also at this time the musical director for the Electra label, which is the label on which he's making his record. So it's not just Odeon and Victor, there is a third company, which is the initiative of a local businessman, the Amendola family, who the following year will record the young orchestra of Juan D'Arienzo using him as a backing group for Carlos Dante. So that's a reference to this third group. Pracánico records on the Electra label too, and he's sort of the artistic director choosing or having an input into which other artists are going to record. All right.
And I read about him as a composer. He composed very known songs such as Al Hossema, Corrientes y Esmeralda. Corrientes y Esmeralda is the super famous one, isn't it? And Mentira and Teodio also. Ah, yes, Mentiras, yes. So let's listen to the lovely waltz, Brasilia, which is an instrumental like most of the music from this year. This is from 1927. Francisco Pracánico.
An instrumental vals by the Electra label's pianist-composer-director, chosen for its timeless, almost hypnotic charm.
♪ Music · 2:20 ·
What do you think? It's not a big hit. I mean, there's a reason we don't hear this a lot of Milongas, of course. But it's interesting, I think. It has the charm of the epoch, doesn't it? Yeah. And there's a kind of timeless quality to the songs of this year, to some of them. Awards like that, I feel like it could go on forever. It could just repeat. It somehow hypnotizes me, this particular style that's quite common at this moment.
Let's move on to the event photo, because when we were planning the original program, Michael, we had two possibilities for the event photo. It was the Canaro one that we went for last week, and the second one was the Bianco-Bachicha photo, the European orchestra. Yeah, I know you love them. A European orchestra but with Argentines in the most important roles. Of course, I mean, of its quality. And who else is in it? Horacio Pettorossi as a guitarist. Okay, it's an instrument that's about to fall out of the Típica, but nevertheless a guitarist and an extremely important composer. Who else?
Mario Melfi still at this time sings on a couple of the records. He'll remain in Paris, have his own band and will record, what's the Chopin number that gets made into a tango? The French title is Tristesse. It becomes a tango of Donato whose title has momentarily escaped me. So lots and lots of important Argentine musicians in this band.
Right. So, and we listened to it last week. And as you said, it's kind of different because you have these two singers that sing very differently from what we know from usual, like duets in Argentine tango. It gets a very different feeling from what we know from Buenos Aires recordings. I like it. It's almost a little bit more overtly emotional than the Argentine recordings of this year are. Somehow there's more emotional freedom accorded to the singers here in these Parisian recordings than there is for the singers back in Argentina recording with the Argentine Típica. The role is still quite restricted. Here they managed to carve out a bigger role.
Yeah, so let's see first Crepúsculo, I guess it's pronounced Crepuscolo, I think. Yeah, yes, it can be dusk. Yeah, exactly. And a central line in the Dukes series, the evening is dying and my hope with her. So it's, yes, and pretty dark stuff. This emotion is completely transmitted through the performance of the orchestra and the singers.
Yeah, it's Eduardo Bianco himself singing, isn't it? Bianco is a violinist and one of the directors, and he's probably joining in with the chorus. And then it's Juan Rajá, the other one, singing. Juan Rajá is the principal vocalist, and then the rest of the band joins in the chorus. Yeah, all right.
And let's hear one more after that. I found this instrumental called Maipú, which I really like. There's a special, same kind of sound picture but it's instrumental. So let's hear this. This is tangos recorded in Paris, right? Yes, they did record elsewhere on tour, so there are some Spanish recordings, but in these years they're Parisian recordings. All right. Bianco-Bachicha with Crepúsculo first and then Maipú.
A dark, emotionally overt Parisian recording; Rajá is lead vocalist with Bianco and the rest of the band joining the chorus.
♪ Music · 2:46 ·
An instrumental paired with Crepúsculo, sharing its special 'sound picture.'
Intense melancholy, Michael. You wrote in the chat window that's a perfect description of this music. That's what I get from it, yes. It's not very exciting but it has a certain, yeah, it really, like, emotional tone to it that it appeals to me as well. Yes, it maintains its own quality, has its own character that's different to the bands performing in Buenos Aires at this time. Yeah. It's not something that makes me want to jump up and run to the dance floor but it's very, very nice for listening in this setting, I think.
Well, some of them do make me jump up and run to the dance floor. People are asking about the guitar. So yes, it's true that it was difficult for foreign bands to get a work permit to work in Paris. So to get round the, even today there are lots of labour laws in place in France, aren't there? Protective labour laws, socialist labour laws. So the Argentine bands had to dress up in gaucho costumes and they weren't musicians anymore. They were sort of foreign artists. Even when Canaro was there, part of the contract said when they walked down the street to go from one gig to another gig, they had to do it in their fancy gaucho outfits for publicity purposes.
Chapter · 1:06:11
Dressed as Gauchos to Play Tango in Paris
To legally play music in Paris, these tango musicians had to pretend they weren't musicians at all.
And the guitar was really funny. So the guitar there was Horacio Pettorossi, but originally when they first arrived, a woman travelled with one of the other band members who was a guitarist, just as his girlfriend. And then she was able to sing some Argentine folk numbers as part of the act, as part of this foreign artiste act, and that was one of the initial motivations for incorporating the guitar. Having said that, what Horacio Pettorossi does is really interesting and advanced and I wouldn't want to be without that.
The guitar's time in the Tipica is coming to an end, isn't it? It's amazing that it's hung on this long but it really carves out a special role for itself here, so I don't want to just discount it as for marketing reasons. It's something quite special, the role of the guitar in this particular band. Yeah, it's nice. Next band we're not going to hear a guitar. It's the most advanced band of this time you said last week, Julio De Caro. And it's at this point still much of it on his own. I mean, later in a couple of years there's going to be a lot of followers but here he's doing his own stuff. That's interesting, isn't it? Must have taken a lot of courage.
Well, what month are we in, Dag? Because of course the situation changes between the beginning and the end of our program. Because at the beginning of the program the bandoneon line, the bandoneon line is Pedro Maffia, Pedro Laurenz, and then around the end of November 26 Maffia quits and starts his own band. Then the bandoneon section in the De Caro orchestra is Laurenz, Blasco, and Maffia has started his own band but it's not going to record for quite a little while.

A De Caro-orchestra era bandoneón composition by Laurenz, picked for its bubbly piano B section (Francisco De Caro).
Well, let's start with the Maffia-Laurenz. This is a song from 1926 called Risa loca and it's a composition by Pedro Laurenz, so I suppose he's also playing here. And it's one and another recording of this composition, as far as I've been able to find. And it really grows on me. I like this second part, B part, after about 30 seconds with bandoneon and this really bubbly piano. Which will be Francisco De Caro, of course. Yeah, exactly. His brother. The musical motor of the orchestra. Yeah. I love this song. It's very interesting. Risa loca. Let's listen to it.
Fantastic! This is so advanced for this year. Amazing! There's so much more going on, isn't there? 26! 1926, and there's more good stuff to come from 1926 even. As well. But what a lot of people seem to be really pleased with is the dark, velvety tone of Pedro Maffia's bandoneon there. Really lovely. And this legato playing. Pulling out the notes. What he's most famous for is the smoothness of his phrases, the linking of phrase to phrase, note to note. Ligado. Ligado playing. That's what Maffia is renowned for doing.
Let's hear two De Caro songs also from the year after, 27, so that would be with Blasco and Laurenz. I don't know the guy with the big bottle glasses, you said. Well, there's two of them, they're brothers. Yeah, yeah. Let's see, the Gigoló, it's an instrumental and it's composed by Emilio Alberto De Caro. Is that two of his brothers? Must be. I'm just trying to think if one of them may be his father. I'm not sure. Okay, yeah. But the family thing anyway. It's definitely the family. Yes, keeping it in the family. Gigoló, yeah. Gigoló, that's the way you pronounce it. Gigoló, yeah.
And the last one, we need to listen to Flores negras, Michael. I was surprised you didn't play it last week because this is such a wonderful song. I know you'll love it. Well, I thought everyone's going to think that Michael's going to play Flores negras and I'm getting predictable, so I won't. All right. Just for the hell of it. Let's hear it now.
So Flores negras is composed by Francisco De Caro, whose piano work really, for me, was the most interesting feature of the previous tango. Yes, there was this lovely bandoneon moment. So as a moment, the moment highlight was provided by Maffia's bandoneon. But the conduction in the piano all the way through the piece of Francisco De Caro is just astonishing. If you think what Canaro and Lomuto are doing, they're going chug, chug, chug, chug. And Francisco De Caro is going dun-dun-dun-dun-dun-dun-dun-dun-dun-dun-dun-dun-dun. There's much, much richer harmonic accompaniment going on. That of course is going to have its day in another 15 or 20 years' time but for the moment they're just far out and they're paying a price for that. The De Caro brothers don't know how to integrate a strong beat with that, so they push that to the side and make the double bass player stand in the corner of the room.
“If you think what Canaro and Lomuto are doing, they're going chug, chug, chug, chug. And Francisco de Caro is going dun-dun-dun-dun-dun-dun-dun-dun-dun.”
So Francisco De Caro, he is the composer of Flores negras, surely one of the most beautiful melodies ever written in tango. I guess that Pugliese didn't really think of Francisco De Caro's melodies, such as Loco Bohemia and Flores negras, as milonguero, as danceable, because he didn't record any of them, despite their great beauty and despite the fact he would have known them very well. But we can listen to it now. We can also enjoy one of the most pure counter melodies in tango. So earlier I was saying that mostly in tango, a counter melody is an obligato part or perhaps a variación. But here it's a classical counter melody. It's counterpoint. Two different tunes played pretty much at the same volume. And the ear is sometimes wondering which one to follow. Complex music. Let's listen to the family business, the De Caro brothers and fathers and whatever. Gigoló and then Flores negras.
“I guess that Pugliese didn't really think of Francisco de Caro's melodies, such as Loco Bohemi[o] and Flores Negr[a]s, as milonguero, as danceable, because he didn't record any of them, despite their great beauty.”
An instrumental by the De Caro family, played to hear the post-Maffia bandoneón line-up (Laurenz and Blasco).
♪ Music · 3:00 ·

Composed by Francisco De Caro; played for its true classical counterpoint and 'astonishing' piano conduction.
Danced to it · 5 of 34
What a melody. What a melody. It's one of the most beautiful melodies ever written in tango music. And the violin sound, it's probably this straw violin that De Caro was playing, isn't it? It's not a very viola. You can hear the tone. Yeah. I have to say, I wonder why he just didn't play a normal violin. But after a while, we become accustomed to it and we identify it with him. Yeah.
Yeah, let's move on to a different thing. There's one big hit this year, Amurado. It's a Laurenz-Maffia track. And it's made... Also vocal performances as well, aren't there? There are many, many different versions. There are many versions. And the one we know as dancers is the one by Laurenz, I guess, from 1940, I think. Around then, yes. Yeah. But the version we'll listen to, I mean, it was recorded this year by many bands, like Canaro, Firpo, Lomuto, Maglio, De Caro, and also by Gardel, Corsini and Magaldi.
But I want to play a version which was pointed out to me, Michael, by our joint Swedish DJ friend, Jenny, who also provided me with the track because I couldn't find it. And it's a bandoneon duo of Pedro Maffia and Alfredo De Franco, who is a young bandoneonist, 17 years old, according to Todo Tango, playing with Maffia. Must have been a great thing. Yes, so Julio De Caro's recordings of bandoneon duos with Maffia and Laurenz, which began in the middle of 1926, have established a trend, a little fashion. Not a huge one, but a mini trend. So Pedro Maffia gets the opportunity to record just these bandoneon duos initially when his orchestra is not actually yet recording. And I'm very glad that we have them and you can hear again Maffia's velvety tone and smooth linked phrasing. Exactly. So this is Maffia and Alfredo De Franco with Amurado from 1927.
A bandoneón-duo version of the year's biggest hit, sourced by a listener (Jenny); showcases Maffia's velvety tone and ligado phrasing with his 17-year-old protégé.
♪ Music · 3:00 ·
Pretty special, eh? It's very intimate playing. And the quality of the recording is pretty good. As it's just two instruments, the technical limitations don't affect it so very badly. There's not a big dynamic range problem. And I almost felt like we were in the room with them, even though that recording was made almost 100 years ago. Fantastic. Really fantastic. Thanks, Jenny, for providing me with this recording. Everyone could hear it tonight.
And while we're in the duo de bandoneones section, let's listen to another one from the year before. And this is Maffia with Laurenz for bandoneon lovers. This is Mocosita. Ah, that's also very good. Yeah, 1926. So this is when they were still playing together. I really like this one.

Another bandoneón duo from when Maffia and Laurenz still played together, prized for how distinctly their two personalities come through.
♪ Music · 2:49 · The lyrics, on the song's page
That's Laurenz there in the end, going crazy on the bandoneon, right? The little fioritures, that can only be Laurenz. And that's why this is the bandoneon combination par excellence, because the two men have got distinct personalities, quite clearly distinct, quite different personalities, and you can hear their different contributions in the music. So it's very generative, very creative, this partnership. The later partnerships are not going to be so creative because the second bandoneon union follows the first one. De Franco, the 17-year-old that Maffia brings in, is going to be like his protégé. And Blasco is following Laurenz's style. But here in 1926, the two men are co-equals. That's really exciting and fecund, very generative for tango music. True. Magnificent.
And even some of their compositions. Amurado. That's right. Now I remember now because people have been asking about the composition in the chat window. The verse is written by one man and the chorus by the other. Right. That's the kind of combination cooperation that they had. And you can hear the different personalities in the results. I think you can. Yeah.
Important guys, on the bandoneon, and both, as you talked about earlier, both important inspirations for Troilo. Yes, we can hear parts of that, can't we? Yeah, the sense of introversion especially of Maffia, the young Troilo. There's a lot of Laurenz in his playing but as time goes on the Laurenz part seems to leave Troilo and he's left more with the Maffia part and the contribution of Ortiz. Yeah.
All right, let's get a bit out of the super nerdy corner with this bandoneon duos and listen to some mainstream tango again, Roberto Firpo. And this is one of my, as I posted in the Facebook group, one of my favourites at the time and one of the main orchestras, like you said in the introduction, Michael, one of the three big ones this year. Yes, and in terms, not of raw sales but in terms of prestige, he's still number one. Firpo persuaded Odeon to give him an exclusive contract when he first signed to them, which meant that no other tango orchestra could sign to the label. That's how big a star he was. At the beginning of 1926, Canaro is still number two. He's worked his way up there through hard work, and he's going to overtake our brother Roberto very shortly.
Let's start with the waltz. Desde el alma, which is a waltz we know from many other versions, later versions. This must be one of the earliest ones, I think. At least, yes, on record. I mean, it was written extremely early. It's one of the old Creole waltzes. But yes, on record, this is, I think, the first one. Let's hear it. Desde el alma.
One of the earliest recordings of this well-known vals, played by a pianist performing in Firpo's style (not Firpo himself).
♪ Music · 0:02 · The lyrics, on the song's page
So it's not Firpo on the piano, but as you said last week, Michael, it's a pianist playing Firpo style. Yep, that's his job and he's doing it very well. Yeah. Strong left hand conduction. It's charming, isn't it? People love it.
Yeah, it's very charming. It's quite fast also for this period. I mean, it's not the slow waltz. It's quite a good tempo. That's very true. And it seems in general that the waltzes at this time are faster than the tangos. They're a bit less integrated somehow into the repertoire.
Let's hear a couple of two tangos by Firpo, which are much slower and more emotional, I think. First one is one we know from Troilo Marino later, Cotorrita de la Suerte. I've been wondering which Firpo tangos you were going to play tonight, so I had a look of course. I took my pool of songs for these years, 1926, 1927, removed the ones that had already been played and I was still left with a very, very long list. And the second longest list I had was for Firpo, and there are a lot of absolutely corking five-star tangos. But Cotorrita de la Suerte was one of the ones I thought we might hear tonight.
And it's a melancholy lyric. And that melancholy is perfectly transmitted with a very romantic sense of melody as well. And here without the lyrics, it's just an instrumental. But it has its wonderful, mournful violin. Beautiful, I think. Yes, and let's remember that the listeners would have known what the lyrics were because they would have heard this song being performed by soloists on the radio and on stage.
Yeah. And it's composed by a guy called Alfredo De Franco. And I read about him that he was just 17 years old when he composed this. And I'm astonished by this. How can you compose anything like this when you're 17 years old with such heaviness and nostalgia? It's amazing. Well, 17 was quite old in those days. Quite old, yes.
Chapter · 1:38:58
The Teenager Who Wrote Tango's Loneliest Waltz
He was 17 when he wrote one of tango's most heartbroken melodies.
Chapter · 1:39:19
The Boy Who Sold Papers at Seven, Danced Tango into His Nineties
He started working at seven. Decades later he was a living link to tango's first generation.
Well, some of you with us tonight will know the milonguero Eduardo Aguirre, also known as Eduardo del Colón. He died a couple of years ago now. So when I first went to dance in Buenos Aires in the late 90s, he was one of the old milongueros that you'd see. Well, not so old then. One of the milongueros you'd see dancing at. It was called Eduardo del Colón because he worked at the Colón Opera House. And after the Sunday night milonga at Almagro, he would come to the cafe with everyone at 4 a.m., have a coffee and a media luna, and then he would go to work.
And I mention him because some years later, when he came to work in Europe through Ivana Meissner, one evening somebody asked him, so tell us about your working life. You know, how did you get going? And he said, so this is an interview that's taking place, I don't know, in the year 2000 and something, 2002, something like that. And he said, I started work when I was about seven years old. I had to get up at something like 6 or 7 in the morning and take the tram to the newspaper office where my brother worked and pick up newspapers and sell them on the street. So if you started work as a canillita, someone in absolute poverty, by 17 you'd lived an awful lot of life already.
Different world. Yes, a different world. For me to imagine there. Yeah, it's hard to imagine. True. Now it would be children's work and a great problem. Yeah.
So Cotorrita de la Suerte, and the second song I will play is Quién lo sabe, which is a wonderful song that I discovered preparing for this program. Oh nice, I can't recall that one, so I'm looking forward to that. Please listen to this, I'm interested in what you think about it. But I think it's just outstanding. First Cotorrita de la Suerte, song we know from Troilo Marino.

A melancholy tango, later known from Troilo-Marino; composed by Alfredo De Franco at age 17.
Paired with Cotorrita; Lavocah calls it outstanding and notes the double bass present throughout both pieces, giving a new walking beat.
Exquisite! Yes, I have to agree. I love the variation there at the end. Fantastic. Yes, it sort of appears out of nowhere, doesn't it? Yeah, so slow, like mellow, and then this variation comes in. Fantastic. Quite a short variation, a bit of Biagi style.
What I like, well, in that piece, it's very subtle and a little bit more playful than some of Firpo's other work. But to make a general comment about the two pieces that we heard, the big difference to what we heard before the whole night is double bass. The double bass is present throughout both pieces and that's giving this walking beat, young boom boom just coming in, which we haven't really heard yet, not even in Canaro and Lomuto. It's a big, big difference having the double bass present. Yeah, I'm happy to have it. I get different sensations in my body. I start to get the whole body walking movement when I hear the double bass.
Maybe this is why I love Firpo from the late 20s. This really strong walking beat and the melancholy in the melody also. This combination for me is irresistible. I just love it. I completely agree. When I listen to that walking beat as well, I hear the forerunner of Disali. Melodically speaking, Frizzato is very important, but in terms of its effect on my dancer's body, I feel that Firpo is the forerunner of Disani rather than Frizzato. Yeah.
“I feel that Firpo is the forerunner of [D'Arienzo] rather than [Fresedo].”
Firpo, there's another 10 good ones you could play. Yeah, yeah, you can play them at the after-party if you want. Anyway, let's move on. And there's one, a song that we know from later recordings called Felicia. And this year there are two versions. There's Fresedo's, which some of you. Which is absolutely an amazing version. Fantastic. Yeah, yeah.
And some of your listeners wanted me to play this. But there's another one I'm going to play by Julio Pollero, I guess it's pronounced. And it's a special version. It reminds me of another song called Champagne Tango. And you'll understand why I say that when you listen to this. So Julio Pollero, Felicia, instrumental from 1927.
An instrumental version that reminded Stenvoll of 'Champagne Tango'; notable for an old-fashioned high bandoneón second melody.
Well, isn't that an after-party tango? I don't know what is. Four bottles of champagne down. We're having fun, aren't we? It's fantastic. It gives such a good mood, this tango, I think. Yes, it really has a nice mood.
And if I can just pick up on one detail in the recording, Julio Pollero is a bandoneon player. And just before this time, he had co-led an orchestra with the violinist with the unpronounceable name, Achesi Laferazzano, who we heard. Oh, he managed to say it, wow! Who we heard in the last week's programme. But now they're separated. They're running their own bands.
But there was one point where the second melody was taken very, very high in the bandoneons. Do you remember that? And that is a really old aspect of bandoneon playing that's dying out already at this time. And there's a few old acoustic recordings of tangos, or even early electrical ones in poor fidelity, where you can hear that kind of thing going on. And it creates a very delicate feeling, which is a special feeling that you don't get in the 40s. Not that kind of delicacy. And that's the clearest I've ever heard it. So I liked it for its playful effect there. But I also liked it because it illuminated for me similar moments in other tangos by other orchestras.
And Julio Pollero, he was from Uruguay, wasn't he? So it's a different, I guess it's, you talked about this earlier, that the Uruguayan orchestras are sometimes a bit different from the ones from Buenos Aires. I think that's not really applicable at this time. That's something we'd say maybe about the 40s, 50s orchestras. Right, when we're in the late 20s, anyone who's really good makes their way to Buenos Aires. For example, Donato and Zirigio, you know, Canaro was born in Uruguay. I mean, you know, he was already in Buenos Aires when he was eight years old. So it's just a short ferry ride across the water. Yeah. All right. Yeah. Okay.
Let's go back to one of the woman singers. This is the one you played also a week ago, Rosita Quiroga. And you said that she's an arrabalera, which means from the suburbs, sounding really natural. Yeah. So. Do you hear that? This is not a sophisticated upper class voice, it's a voice from the outskirts, from the margins of society.
Yeah, let's hear this. This is the song, I'm not going to tell you the title because you're going to hear it when it starts. It's a song we know from much later and the song we dance to. Everyone, I've danced to this at least a hundred times, I'd say, if you have been dancing tango. So it's an own song in the beginning, you can't hear it, she wasn't on vocals when we were dancing that. No, no, she wasn't. So this is, I won't say, but it's an earlier version and you'll hear it after a few seconds. So let's hear this one. This is with guitar backing.
An unannounced guessing-game track with guitar backing; identified from the lyrics and later discussion as D'Arienzo's much later hit 'Mandria,' sung here by a woman.
I love this because it's so different from the Rensner version. I mean, you hear it's the same song, but it's so different that it gives a completely other impression. Yes, lots of comments in the chat window, lots of interesting comments. And some people saying that it's a strange tango to be heard sung by a female voice, which is true. But having said that, there's a special resonance about having a woman sing the line, why fight a man who's a coward? So she still brings something to it, singing from the other gender. She does.
And I mean, I know from our conversations, Michael, that you think D'Arienzo's Mandria is a song that's somehow a bit overplayed at milongas. Well, because there are other good songs from that period, we don't need to play just that one, you know. There are 116 D'Arienzo numbers from 1935 to 1939. Two of them are polkas, so I'll let you off those, but it would be nice to hear more than half a dozen of them on a regular basis. But this one wasn't overplayed at milongas. And of course, that's the reason for it. Yeah.
OK, let's move on to Juan Maglio, which is one of the big guns at this time. He's huge, isn't he? I mean, in my opinion, he's better than Canaro in 1927. I think so, too. I think so, too. Yeah. And there's a lot of nice tracks. And this is the orchestra for which, together with Fresedo, I received most suggestions from you people listening. And also quite a lot of them, Vardaro playing violin. Oh, yeah.
Not with the band when it's playing live. No, of course not. But on the recording sessions for Victor, he's there. And you'll recognize immediately if any of them fall into that category. Yeah. Let's start with a song that none of you suggested, actually. This is a unique modular recording. I didn't find it by anyone else. It's called Ataja por Pompeya. And I find this to have an irresistible beat, great band on their own playing, and violins also. And I think this is a track that probably many of you haven't heard, because I hadn't heard it until last week or two weeks ago. So, yeah.
A rare, little-heard Maglio instrumental with a strong beat reminiscent of D'Arienzo.
Yeah, all of Maglio's repertoire has a really strong beat at this time. It's a beat that should remind us really a little bit of D'Arienzo. Yeah. Listen to this. Ataja por Pompeya, Maglio, instrumental.
I love this one. It's going to be part of my first Maglio Tanda after the pandemic. I love it too. All the ingredients. The beautiful violin solo that you can hear is going to inspire D'Arienzo later on. But most of all, an irresistible beat. Yeah.
Let's see two more Maglio tracks. One called Leguizamo Solo. And this is with a singer, actually, José Galarza & choir, which is unusual from this year with singers. So that's interesting. It is, but then that's something about this particular tango.
So Leguizamo was a famous jockey, Regno Leguizamo. So Leguizamo solo means he's out in front. Leguizamo solo! And you also get the chorus singing those words in the Fresedo version as well. So it's something particular about this tango that lends itself to the choral treatment. Yeah.
And the second song is a unique recording also I haven't found in other versions. It's called Arrepentido. There is another, but this is not the one. I love this one, it's really mysterious. I get goosebumps from listening to this. This is an instrumental, Juan Maglio with Leguizamo Solo and then Arrepentido.
A choral number named for champion jockey Irineo Leguizamo; unusual for having vocals in a year of mostly instrumentals.
♪ Music · 2:44 ·
A unique instrumental recording Stenvoll hadn't found in other versions, praised for its mysterious mood and for Elvino Vardaro's violin.
Isn't that pure beauty? I just love this song. Fantastic. I have to agree. And just to take the last comment in the chat window, many, many favorable comments. Sublime. Yes, sublime. Maple has written for us. Sublime. It's fantastic. And I agree.
Although not to take anything away from that interpretation, but I think without the presence of Vardaro on violin we wouldn't like it as much. His contribution, it's Vardaro, baby, elevates the entire performance. Yeah, we're lucky that, um, in a way that he's not more successful personally and he's forced to play as a session musician for these house bands. It's true. You get all these Vardaro details from different orchestras. We do. Whereas if he'd been successfully running his own band, he wouldn't have had to do it. Well, we probably would have enjoyed listening to the recordings of that band. That's true, yes. So anyway, yeah.
“Without the presence of [Vardaro] on violin we wouldn't like it as much... it's [Vardaro], baby, [that] elevates the entire performance.”
Next band I want to play is Juan Guido. And you did play one of walls by him, I think, last week. Ruguaja. Yeah, this is another one of these Guardia Vieja style bands. Nothing fancy, doesn't show off. Vardaro's playing violin on a lot of the sessions. This time, 1926-27, it has all of us together. We've spent a few hours with it now, and it's a time that we don't often listen to as tango dancers. And it's much more modest, isn't it, than the music, say, of the late 30s or the 40s.
Nothing fancy, doesn't show off, but really transmits a mood, but in a more introvert way. That's not just this band is introvert, it's something about the whole scene, really, and Guido is summed up pretty nicely by that. Guadalupe Vecca style, nothing fancy, but really in the spirit of the times, and yes, some very nice contributions by Vardaro on the violin. Yeah, so it's Vardaro on the violin.
But another thing I'm interested in this orchestra is because I read on Todo Tango about Guido and there was a reference to Biagi. And last week you played one of the solo recordings by Biagi, this Cruz Diablo, this solo piano recording. But I read on Todo Tango that, as you said, that he turned out an offer from Gardel to go on a tour to Spain, and according to the tango instead he said no or he felt he was too young for this and instead he joined the band of Juan Guido. So, um, I'm thinking because I'm listening to this song I'm gonna play, it's called Serpentinas, it's an instrumental tango, and, um, in the B part, like after half the minute, there's this piano, this bubbly piano, I think is this Biagi. And I'm thinking, this could it be like a track with the Vardaro on violin and Biagi on the piano? Isn't that amazing just to think about? Dag, you're a genius. Yeah, I'm very curious what you think about this. Let's listen to it and see what you think about the piano playing, especially. Serpentinas, Juan Guido, 1927. I'm going to check out the dates right now. Yeah, please do.
A Guardia Vieja-style instrumental; its jazzy piano B section briefly made Stenvoll suspect a young Biagi, before Lavocah ruled it out by date.
Chapter · 2:18:06
The Night They Almost Caught a Young Biagi Red-Handed
For five minutes they thought they'd found a secret young Biagi recording. Then the dates ruled it out.
The piano is just so jazzy and offbeat, makes me think of Biagi. I'm really sorry, but the dates don't fit. No. No. But I really get what you're saying about jazzy touches on the piano. I hear that. It's probably just a more general influence. You know, tango hasn't yet come to dominate jazz. There are plenty of jazz orchestras working in the cinemas. The tango orchestras are exposed to them. They hear them at the cinema. They hear them at the dances.
Some people are working in two different formations, a jazz and a tipica, or they're working for a band like Canaro's or Lomuto's that performs both styles, so there's quite a bit of crossover. Yeah, um, but I'm sorry, the dates don't support it. It was 1930 that Biagi had his contact with Gardel and not 1927, so sadly, actually, no, I'll just take that all back. Yes, Dag, it's an amazing discovery we've just made. 1930, no, it was earlier, I think. It was when Biagi was young that he was in touch with Gardel, wasn't it? It's 1930. Not late, okay. Yeah. Well, he's younger than the rest of them. Yeah. All right.
“The dates don't support it. It was 1930 that [Biagi] had his contact with [Gardel], and not 1927. So sadly, actually, no, I'll just take that all back.”
Anyway, it's a nice thought to think about Vardaro and Biagi in the same orchestra, I think. And it could still have happened unbeknownst to us. Yeah. All right. We're getting close to the end, and I wanted to finish with, because I love you, Michael, I wanted to finish with your favorite 1927 orchestra. Osvaldo Fresedo. Yeah, you said last week that he was your by far favorite from this year, Fresedo. Yes, he edges it over Firpo for me and Marlio. Yeah, fantastic.
I love, of course, his romanticism, but here it's a romanticism with bite, which is something we're not going to get in the Fresedo of the 1940s. So, yeah, Fresedo kind of unplugged, a stripped back Fresedo with just six guys, where there's a lot more space and that space is taken up by more rhythmic elements. The Kanjenge slapping on a lot of the double bass numbers as well, so it's a Fresedo that's more in touch with roots than the later Fresedo.
Good, I hope you will enjoy my selection, because he recorded, it's like hundreds of songs this year. So I'm sure I shall, because it's all really good quality, and you're a man of sensitivity as well. All right, let's see, the first one I'll play is called Frases de amor. Oh yes, that's a cracking one. You know this one, okay. Yes, yeah, wonderful, it's a sweet little thing. I think it's very, yeah, in English we should say words of love. Yeah, yes, like the Everly Brothers song. And then after that I want to play another instrumental tango called Agua mansa. It's, um, I think it's the one and only recording by this composition by Juan Carlos Giro, and it means still water. And I think this is a good title, because I feel it's a lovely and delicate and intimate song, or not song, but another beautiful Fresedo performance as well. Yeah, very nice, nice beginning especially. So let's listen to this too. Osvaldo Fresedo, 1927, both tracks, Frases de amor, and then Agua mansa.

A sweet, stripped-back six-piece Fresedo piece, chosen to open his segment as Lavocah's favourite orchestra of the year.
♪ Music · 3:00 ·

A delicate, intimate instrumental, the only recording of this Juan Carlos Giro composition.
I want to drink a lot of this still water. It's so beautiful and delicate. Little drops are falling into the pool. Exactly. Did you notice the little bandoneón solo? That's Fresedo himself. And unlike a lot of other musicians he stays playing even after, so Firpo's given up already, huh, he's no longer playing in his orchestra, he just conducts. But Fresedo is still playing bandoneón even into the early 30s, so when we hear that solo bandoneón phrase, that's him. Yeah, lots of delicate touches also from Muzi, from the first violin, lovely, lovely.
And speaking of Fresedo bandoneón solos, I'm gonna give one more track, and this is a very special one that, um, you pointed out for me, Michael, because we were talking about this, yeah, the last week's programs on the weekend, and you said, oh, listen to this one, this is a Fresedo solo, the bandoneón, from 1927, I think. 1927, could this be Me longer con variation? No, this is not the one, it's the other one. There was Un sueño, a dream, a very suitable title for an Osvaldo Fresedo number, so that'll be the last song in the regular program. We'll hear La cumparsita after this. But yeah, for you all your bandoneón addicts out there, listen to this. This is Fresedo just by himself and his bandoneón, and so on.
A solo bandoneón piece played by Fresedo himself, offered as a special treat for 'bandoneon addicts.'
Now what about that Fresedo solo? I feel like this piece of music grants me a special insight into Fresedo's soul and what sort of person he really was. So tender. Romantic and tender, that's true. Yeah. Mesmerizing. Something nice about this particular year, 1926, 1927, there are quite a few solo recordings or bandoneón duos, one or two piano solos, which is something that's a bit too soft by the time we get to the sound of the 10-piece Orquesta Típica in the late 30s and 40s.
So we come to the end of this after party, which is, yeah, it was nice to turn the tables, Michael. I mean, it's been, it doesn't feel so different from the regular programs because you are engaging a lot with the music and we have this dialogue that we also have during the regular programs. So thanks for joining me. And I was happy that you wanted to do this because I felt a bit sad after missing last week's program after all the preparation and all the feedback, all the suggestions from our participants, that I really wanted to play some of them. So this has been a really nice night for me. Yeah, we missed you. And now that you're here, it kind of completes something.
Well, it's been really nice. And it's amazing that we still have more than 100 people listening to this music from 26-27. Who would have thought? Indeed. I think when we began Tango By Year a year ago now, we didn't really think we could do a 1926-27 program, but here we are, we've done two and people are loving it. Yeah, it was more than extra. It would be nice to start at the beginning of the tango recordings as we know it, but also the pandemic was lasting and we wanted to keep going for a couple of weeks more, so that's why we decided to do it. So good.
So it's time for La cumparsita. But before that, let's say that, well, Michael also always mentioned, already mentioned last week that the next week will be Tango 1949, which is a year I, it's, it's not a very, I guess it's a, it's not a very year, you have a lot of melongos, but it's a wonderful year. This is why I saved it also for one of the last programs, because there are wonderful recordings by Troilo, by Pugliese and some other bands that we'll get back to next week. It will be an exciting year. I think so, yeah. A big contrast to this one, and I look forward to it very much.
Yeah, more emotional. I'm much more emotional than this year, more lyrical and emotional. Well, of course, we'll really appreciate the presence of the vocalists and the Típicas next time. Yeah, I think so too. So that'll be Wednesday, one week from now.
La Copacita. Mikey, you played one week ago, you played the Lawrence Mafia duo, the Bandanones, and you played also the Canaro one. What have I left you, Doug?
There are six more recordings, and I'm going to play the one by Carlos Gardel singing La Copacita, or Si supieras, which is the vocal title by guitars. I think this is the only time we've played Tadel, Kompasita. So that's a nice ending of this early period because he was one of the big names this year.
As you said last week, he was on the top of the list on the advertisement for the... Top billing. Yeah. Top billing and the powerhouse still of Tango.
Thanks to everyone for enduring and coming back to us and listening to this old music with us. Wonderful. I really appreciate it and thanks Michael for again sharing all your immense knowledge about this, even this earlier period that most people don't know so much about, so it's interesting in that sense.
Yeah, I think it gives a bit of context as well to what comes later. It really helps to understand a little bit of this earlier time.
So, goodnight to everyone after this. There's no after after party, this is it. We've had five hours of 1927 now and we think that's enough, so see you next week in 1949. See you then, good night everyone.
Closing La Copacita segment: Gardel's guitar-backed vocal recording of La cumparsita under its alternate lyric title, said to be the only Gardel Cumparsita the show has ever played.
♪ Music · 6:29 ·
Tango By Year is Dag Stenvoll and Michael Lavocah's, published here with their permission. The audio plays from SoundCloud.




