Tango Time Machine — Tango Decoder

Subtitled Video #51: QUÉ BIEN TE QUEDA: How well it suits you! (Pugliese/Chanel, 1943)

Qué bien te queda* (Cómo has cambiado)
Tango 1943
Música: Vicente Salerno
Letra: Juan Mazaroni

As recorded by the Orquesta Típica of Osvaldo Pugliese with vocal by Roberto Chanel on 21 October 1943. English-language version, subtitles, and notes by Michael Krugman.

See also: Qué bien te queda as recorded by Ricardo Tanturi with Enrique Campos.

 

Hermano, te ha vencido el modernismo, tu figura de ayer también cambió, sólo queda en tus compases melodiosos el pasado corazón a corazón. Ya te alejaste del suburbio que te viera bajo la luz palpitante de un farol, que perfilaba tu figura caprichosa bailando a los acordes, de un organito al son. Qué bien te queda, cómo has cambiado, y en este marco de distinción, vas enredando los corazones entre lamentos de un bandoneón. Los rascacielos llenos de asombro vistiendo smoking, te ven llegar. Qué bien te queda, tango argentino, canción del alma, canto inmortal...

Brother, modernism has conquered you, you're cutting a different figure nowadays,* all that’s left in your melodious rhythm is the past, heart to heart. Now you've moved away from the slum* where you'd be seen under the flickering light of a streetlamp that profiled your fanciful form, dancing in time to the chords of an organito.* How well it suits you, how you’ve changed, and in this elegant setting, you’re going around entangling hearts in the laments of a bandoneón. The astonished skyscrapers see you arrive, dressed in a tux. How well it suits you, Argentine tango, song of the soul, song immortal.

NOTES:

* How well it suits you: The title employs an idiomatic expression, quedarse bien, meaning "to suit."

* cutting a different figure nowadays: Literally, "your figure of the past also changed."

* slum: suburbio. The Spanish word suburbio indicates "a nucleus of population located in the outlying areas of a city, usually depressed." In the Buenos Aires of the early 20th century, a suburbio was just that. (RAE) The English word "suburb," does not mean the same thing, since suburbs are often relatively wealthy residential areas. The word "slum" denotes "a squalid and overcrowded urban street or district inhabited by very poor people." That may be the closest equivalent.

* organito: A portable barrel-organ that played an important role in the early diffusion of tango. Near the turn of the 20th century, the organito introduced the early tango of the suburbio to the streets of the city center. (As Michael Lavocah points out in Tango Masters: Osvaldo Pugliese, the whistled phrase on the recording is from the song Organito de la tarde.) See also: "The organito," Cotorrita de la suerte and El cocherito.

Subtitled Tango #50: SON COSAS DE BANDONEÓN ("It's the bandoneón's thing")

"Let's lift this bubbling glass of champagne...
Laughter will sound its cheery jingle bell and a smile will hang on our lips.
And if a sob wells up unintentionally,
don't worry, friends....
It's the bandoneón's thing
he, who of his own accord,
on this night of celebration,
has started to cry."

SON COSAS DEL BANDONEÓN
("It's The Affair Of The Bandoneón")
Music by Enrique Rodriguez
Words by Enrique Cadícamo

[Bandoneón stencil art by unknown artist, San Telmo, Buenos Aires. Photo: Ian Gallagher, 2007 (via Flickr).]

 

Son cosas del bandoneón que se ha puesto a rezongar, no son mías las tristezas de esta noche de champán… No tengo que ocultar ningún amor de ayer ni tengo penas que desenterrar. Si algún dolor está flotando sin querer sépanlo todos, compañeros, que… son cosas del bandoneón, que por gusto, nada más, esta noche de verbena, se le ha dado por llorar. Bandoneón de triste rezongar: tu lamento me hace mal, bandoneón, tu funeral compás es un réquiem compadrón… Hay que reír… Hay que cantar… Mejor será mentir nuestro penar… Yo, como vos… sufro también, hermano bandoneón, no llores más… Muchachos, quiero brindar: “Por la vida que se va”… Levantemos esta copa burbujeante de champán… La risa lucirá su alegre cascabel y en nuestras bocas colgará un reír. Y si el sollozo está flotando sin querer, no se preocupen compañeros, que… Son cosas del bandoneón que, por gusto nada más, en la fiesta de esta noche se le ha dado por llorar.

It's the bandoneón's thing, he, who's set to moaning. Grief is not for me on this night of champagne. I don't have to hide yesterday's loves, I've no sorrows to dig up. If any pain is unintentionally welling up, be aware, my friends, that... it's the bandoneón's thing, he, who of his own accord, nothing else, on this night of dancing under the stars, has started to cry. Bandoneón moaning of sadness: your lament makes me ill, bandoneón, your funereal rhythm is an arrogant requiem...* One's got to laugh... One's got to sing... It's better to lie about our suffering... I, like you... I suffer too, brother bandoneón, stop crying... Boys, I want to make a toast: "To life that goes on..." Let's lift this bubbling glass of champagne... Laughter will sound its cheery jingle bell and a smile will hang on our lips. And if a sob wells up unintentionally, don't worry, friends.... That's the bandoneón's thing, he who of his own accord, on this night of celebration, has started to cry.

NOTES:

* It's the bandoneón's thing: Son cosas del bandoneón, literally, "they are things of the bandoneón." A similar expression in English is, "Do your own thing." The central irony of the song is that the protagonist denies his own feelings, attributing them instead to the inanimate instrument. Everyone's celebrating but the bandoneón is crying; he's "doing his own thing."

* arrogant requiem: réquiem compadrón. The word compadrón appears in countless tangos, and has numerous possible meanings. As a noun, it can mean a friend, but it more often means a person who's arrogant or a braggart. The word provides an ironic counterpoint to the solemn mass for the dead. Compadrón is the opposite of solemn.

Subtitled Video #49: EL FLETE ("Nag") OTP/Ernesto Fama, 1930

EL FLETE ("Nag") recorded by the Orquesta Típica Porteña with vocal by Ernesto Famá, 16 September 1930. Music by Vicente Greco; lyrics by Gerónimo Gradito.

Famá sings only a very brief estribillo (refrain). Our subtitled video contains the full lyrics by Gerónimo Gradito. Part of the last verse does not fit the meter of the music. We've done our best! An alternate lyric by Pascual Contursi was never recorded.

Photo credit:breathless-dk.deviantart.com

Parejero, zaino escarceador Por tu pinta y color, Y por tu sangre sos Todo un flete de mi flor. ¡Porque es tu corazón difícil de empardar! En las canchas no tenés rival, Y en una ocasión Que has de recordar, Ganaste a un pangaré Y al jinetearte así, Decía para mí: ¡Zaino! Mi viejo amigo, De punta a punta, ganale. ¡Flete!, Todo he jugado Y en vos está mi esperanza. ¡Zaino!, ¡Sólo en la cancha! Correlo al galope Que atrás lo dejás. ¡Flete!, Zaino de mi alma, Tuya es la carrera Que en ley la ganás... Y al llegar vos, triunfador Tu pueblo te aplaudió, Y una paisanita Flores te tiraba, Que después se acercó, Y tu cabeza palmeó, Y ella, desde entonces Es mi único querer... Parejero, zaino escarceador Por tu pinta y color, Y por tu sangre sos Todo un flete de mi flor. ¡Porque es tu corazón difícil de empardar! En las pueblos no tenés rival Como yo para el amor. Y al correrla los dos Siempre tenemos que ser, ¡Yo todo un buen varón y un bravo flete vos!

Swift horse, prancing chestnut (betrayer),* by your looks and color and by your blood you are the very best of nags. That’s why your heart is so difficult to predict! On the course you’ve no rival, and on one occasion that you must remember, you beat a pangaré, and having trained you so well, I said to myself: Zaino! My old friend, from point to point, you’re winning it. Old nag!, I’ve bet it all and my hope’s riding on you. Zaino! Alone on the course! Run it at a gallop, and leave it behind you. Swift one! Chestnut of my soul, The race is yours; so that by rights you must win it. And upon your triumphant finish your public applauded you, and a sweet country gal placed a garland round your neck and afterward came close and patted your head; she, from that day on has been my only love. Swift horse, prancing betrayer, by your looks and color and by your blood you are the very best of nags. Because it’s your heart that’s difficult to predict. In the villages you’ve no rival, like me in love. And when pursuing, we two, we must always be, “I, a real good man, and a fierce nag, thee!"

Notes:

* Nag: The word "nag" in English means an old, broken down horse, or simply a racehorse. Here, it has the latter meaning.

* zaino: A "zaino" is a chestnut colored horse, but the word also means traitor or betrayer. The double-entendre lends a degree of uncertainty to the protagonist's praise for his seemingly unbeatable horse.

* pangaré: A pangaré is a light-pointed horse, that is, a horse whose belly and muzzle are lighter than the rest of the coat.

 

Lunfardo Poem I (with English-language version)

Juan Carlos Báez (via Todotango, English by Tango Decoder)

La billetera es un cuero, la cadena, una marroca, un cabo al vesre es un boca, y andar mal, andar fulero. Un bolonqui, un entrevero, un proxeneta es un fioca, buchonear, irse de boca, y un comisario, un taquero. Chaleco es camisulín, bien vestido, shushetín, hombre rico, un bacanazo. Alcahuete es batistín, un tipo vivo, un piolín, y pedir plata un mangazo.

A wallet is “a leather,” a chain, “a Maroccan,” a butt (cabo) in “reverse” is a mouth (boca),* and to be in bad shape, to “feel ugly.” A bolonqui, “a brawl,”* a pimp is a “fioca,”* to squeal, to “run off at the mouth,” and a police captain, a “heel-cutter.”* Vest is a “fancy shirt,” well dressed, “shushetín”* a rich guy is a “bacanazo”.* A gossip is a “batistín” a clever guy, a "piolín," and to ask for a loan, a “big pinch.”

*Reverse: Vesre is slang in which the letters of a word are transposed.  Hence “cabo” is “boca.”
*fioca: Var. of cafishio, “pimp”
*bolonqui: Vesre for quilombo, “brawl”
*heel-cutter: Police captains used to cut off the heel of one of a captive compadrito’s boots to humiliate them.
*shushetín: dandyish
*bacanazo: big shot, bon vivant
*piolín: Vesre for limpio, “clean.”

 Photo source: http://arsushuaia.blogspot.com

Juan Carlos Cobián, Continued

I continue to be fascinated by the seminal tango artist Juan Carlos Cobián. Here's a short chapter on Cobián from Antonio Pau's book Música y poesía del tango (Editorial Trotta, Madrid, 2001). Translation mine. The ad (right) is from late 1943, when the pianist returned to his homeland from New York for the final time. Advertising art by Publicidad Santa Cruz.

    In the first decade of the (20th) century, attempts to give greater musical dignity to tango led to the creation of the orquesta típica. But in those early approximations, there was a lot of confusion. Sometimes unsuitable instruments were added--the flute, the clarinet, even the lyre. Other times the number of instruments was noisily multiplied--six or seven bandoneones or two pianos together in the same orchestra.
     The one who came up with the golden mean was Juan Carlos Cobián. Cobián was a person almost Herculean--a boxing enthusiast, a pianist with incredible fingering--he used to span two octaves in a delicately arpeggiated chord--who combined energy and sensibility in an uncommon amalgam.
    His life was governed by contradictions: night ruled over day, bohemianism ruled over order, failure ruled over success, and there would come a time in which other music ruled over tango. After some years of nomadism among the orchestras of Buenos Aires, Juan Carlos Cobián came up with the formula of the sextet. Without great difficulty he managed to assemble the best six musicians of the moment. [With Pedro Maffia and Luis Petrucelli (bandoneones), Julio De Caro and Agesilao Ferrazzano (violins), Humberto Constanzo (double bass) and, of course, he himself on piano.--TD] A little later he escaped to New York, and after begging for work for several years, he dedicated himself to jazz.
    And in his later years, he returned to start anew. He organized a second orchestra, again with the best musicians. And after a short time, when it had achieved success, he returned to New York. But he wouldn’t get a third chance. Sickness and suffering finished him.
    Juan Carlos Cobián composed some of the best known tangos, including Los mareados, Nostalgias, Nieblas de Riachuelo, Salomé, Muñeca Cruel [and A pan y agua, "On Bread and Water," apparently a reference to the composer's military service, much of it spent under arrest.--TD]. But his importance in the history of tango goes beyond having written some inspired compositions. Cobián ended the phase of instrumental primitivism and opened the phase of classicism. Juan Carlos Cobián is the first classicist. It’s true that he merely initiated the second phase. The one who advances it, who propels and directs it, is Julio De Caro.
    Until Cobián, the orquestas típicas were rhythm-centered, and Cobián was centered in harmony. In Cobián's hands, the old and new melodies acquired a flexible, robust structure full of nuances. it is something unknown until then. It marks a new direction in the evolution of instrumental tango.
    In one of his most representative recordings, Cobián directs his orchestra in the performance of the tango Shusheta. Shusheta is a Lunfardo word that means a preppy, what was before called a pollo pera (“rich kid”)  and before the before, a petimetre (“dandy”) or a pisaverde (“toff”)....

[End of chapter]