Who is the musician who worked with Celia Cruz, won the Grammy and today produces Daniela Darcourt’s new album?

‘Chucho’ Valdés recruited him at the age of 17 for Irakere; Isaac Delgado and Celia Cruz they entrusted him with the bass of their orchestras; Y Paco de Lucia was enchanted by his unique way of playing flamenco. But that’s only part of his resume. At 45 years old, Alain Pérez has known how to shine solo, with six albums, several collaborations and nominations, and a major award: the 2021 Latin Grammy for Best Traditional Tropical Album for “Cha cha chá”, a tribute to the mythical Aragón orchestra .

Daniela Darcourt, who began to follow him more closely on the recommendation of her musical director, the Cuban Susana Alberte, one day sang one of his songs, uploaded it to her networks, they exchanged messages and the affinity was born. It was so great that she brought him to Lima to entrust him with his second record production. Five themes where love is present in all its boiling states: romance, heartbreak, and reconciliation. And where salsa, timba and urban rhythms intertwine with lust.

On one of his last mornings in Lima, with the characteristic torpor of someone who was recording at dawn, Alain Pérez received the newspaper El Comercio, with Peru on his chest. A red sweater with the embroidered national shield that Darcourt gave him as soon as he got off the plane.

—What is the identity, the character of the album?

First you have to respect the artist, the sound that Daniela brings with her. The sound that she has placed and identified her in front of a massive and loyal audience. Of course, I have given him my input. The sound Alain Pérez. I tell him: lard. The flavor that Cuban music has, which is not exactly salsa, but respecting the international codes of the market.

—You are a mixture of many rhythms: Cuban son, flamenco, jazz, timba, rumba and guaguancó. So, how would you define the Alain Pérez sound?

That sound is born from a great essence. From a love for my roots and at the same time from the desire to embrace all the influences of international music. At a certain moment, Cuban music left the island and through New York, Puerto Rico, Peru, Venezuela, and Colombia continued on its way. Everyone made their interpretation of what is salsa. I don’t renege like some Cuban artists. I give thanks too, because in a certain way our music has been maintained thanks to others.

—How did Daniela invite you?

We met in Miami. She went to see me at a concert. And she wrote to me a while ago directly to ask me to produce the album for her. She told me that she had thought about her decision several times, because she is at a much more mature moment in her career. She is an artist who wants to continue defending music above all else. That must be considered and valued as such, because most of the young artists of this time move away from good music every time. Daniela No. If not, I wouldn’t be here.

“I imagine you’re very careful about the invitations you receive.”

Exactly. I choose my productions, because I am not a full-time producer. I have my solo career. But production is a very dedicated commitment, because you can’t put an album down until it’s finished. If not, one regrets later. You have to watch it to the end.

—Do you also sing on the album?

In a theme. The song is called When love ends. A super cool theme about the breakup of a couple. It is a concept like Pimpinela, but in sauce. Question and answer. A hesitation. I already had it written with my father (Gradelio Pérez). We conceived it 20 years ago and I had never recorded it, because I always asked myself: who will I sing it with? with what woman? With whom can I have that feeling? Fortunately I found her and it turns out that she was a Peruvian.

—Recently Daniela uploaded a bit of a song in the studio to her networks. You know that this is so rare in Peru.

Because they keep it a secret, right?

-OK out. It’s because proper music is simply scarce. We have many interpreters, but few creators.

We are here to contribute our grain of sand, and so that the premieres are more common.

—Does this Daniela record have touches of timba?

Yes, of course. It has the essence of timba. The essence is in how you play, in how you can design a tumbao on the piano, mambo or the rhythm of the choir. I treat timba in my own way, with the right dose so that it is understood in the market.

—Timba is still misunderstood then?

I don’t think the word is misunderstood, rather disregarded by the big market and the music industry, and that has had consequences for the general public. But it is not yet close. It’s not popular. In the nineties we suffered total isolation, and we are still paying those consequences. Today we have the networks as our great ally, and timba continues to walk. But it is not massive.

—I usually read the comments of people who don’t like timba and they always criticize that it is very local and the jargon and codes are only understood by Cubans.

Daddy Yankee was also a local. The urban jargons of Puerto Rico are local. What happens is that they are in the market. That is the big difference. They create a trend and become international. But, what is urban music? Everything local in each neighborhood. The timba of course is local. But I dose it, because Cuba is still closed.

—What virtues do you find in Daniela?

I did not know Daniela as a person. Now we have had time. I know that she has worked a lot, and that she comes from below, from a poor neighborhood. That personal story is what motivated me to work with her. I didn’t bring any written arrangement because I wanted to meet her first. Here, in Lima, I did everything. Yes, in the studio. I come with my trip in mind. But I had my doubts, because I wanted to get to know her well.

—As you may have noticed, Daniela doesn’t usually listen to salsa in her spare time. It is not a sauce boat from the bush, classic. Perhaps those influences from other rhythms are what have given it a singular touch.

Therein lies the freshness of the album. Because I tell you something: salsa exhausts me. Just as timba exhausts me when it’s pure “choir and hand up, choir and hand up”. The same goes for salsa: “puro titicó, titicó” (he plays an imaginary key). I am a world musician with a solid root. My musical ocean is wide. If tomorrow I can make a record with Peruvian roots, with landau and celebration, welcome. That enriches me.

About Cuba and the Grammy

After having lived for almost two decades in Spain, Alain Pérez settled in Havana five years ago. For the musician, who uses a cane on stage to honor Benny Moré, it was not an easy thing despite his career. “I had to queue like everyone else”, he says, referring to earning a fixed space in one of the Houses of Music that the island has.

Although he has come to Peru on several occasions, he has not yet been able to do so with his orchestra. An orchestra made up of young people who are no older than 25. “They come from school with purity, still without hobbies and vices, and wanting to take on the world“, Explain. Setting up his show in Peru is a debt that he may be able to pay off in the coming months.

How much has the pandemic affected you?

I spent the pandemic in Cuba. It affected me as a musician to separate myself from the stage for so long. It’s my oxygen. You lose contact with reality, with the day to day, with that adrenaline. With the reason why you get up. That disappeared. People thought I was composing a lot. What am I going to compose in the middle of a sick world full of lamentations. You don’t get inspired.

—Has it been your period of most creative drought?

I am very spiritual. If I see that something is wrong, I cannot be indolent, indifferent. But in the midst of everything, in the pandemic we took the opportunity to record the tribute to the Aragón orchestra with Issac Delgado. And look, it was the first Grammy of my career.

“I saw you with Issac Delgado. You, with so much experience on stage, and when you went to collect the award you had become two children.

It was amazing because it is difficult. Isaac and I had been nominated several times. I didn’t expect anything. But when they said “Cha cha chá”, I said “oh my God”. I had never experienced such a great emotion. I received it as a prize for my life. To get to that record, you know what we’ve been through.

-Tell us.

I was born in Manaca Iznaga, a humble town on the island. When I was nine years old I went to a musical group and since then I have not returned home. I lost the warmth of my family, the attention of my sister, the hot food. It’s different when you don’t have a mother by your side. As a child I began to live as a professional musician. But since then I have been happy. I found such a beautiful energy that has taken me to the whole world.

—You feel, then, that the Grammy has been the crowning of all that journey.

Sure. Whatever they say: the prizes when they arrive in such an honest way are very filling. Because you earned it fair and square.

—Sixto el Indio Llorente passed away in mid-2021. That album is an involuntary tribute to him.

El Indio for me was a reference. I have known El Indio since I was a child because I studied in Santa Clara as well. El Indio was a guide and he died from one day to the next. Now I have paid tribute to him with some Spaniards from Valencia, the Plena 73 Salsa Orchestra.

—Adalberto Álvarez, one of the columns of Cuban music, also left.

Incredible, Adalberto who had overcome cancer. In the end he dies from Covid. With Adalberto I worked as a guest in the tribute they paid him. It was said that he was sick. I identified a lot with Your faithful troubadour. After that day he called me my troubadour.

—I know that what you like least about interviews is being asked about politics, but it’s necessary. June 2021, people took to the streets in Cuba after decades. And you recorded a powerful video, in the midst of the lukewarmness of several orchestra directors, where you denounced the abuses and said: “if Cuba cries, I cry. I am a man, a musician is anyone”. What impact did that video have?

I was in Spain at the time, and that shook my conscience. The people of Cuba have been very faithful. It is one of the best companies. He has believed in his revolution, in his ideals. If one day after so many years he gets up, you can’t hit him back. The people have their right to be heard. Let the town flourish.