IN CONCERT
What: Alex Cuba with Alejandra Ribera
Where: Charlie White Theatre, 2243 Beacon Ave., Sidney
When: Wednesday, 7:30 p.m.
Tickets: $44 at tickets.marywinspear.ca or by phone at 250-656-0275
Note: Cuba also performs in Nanaimo at The Port Theatre (on March 8) and in Campbell River at The Tidemark Theatre (March 9)
Artists often spend the early part of their careers reaching for awards, thinking a trophy will validate all the hard work. In many cases, it does.
Alex Cuba was no different. But now that his trophy case is full, the singer-guitarist from Artemisa, Cuba, now living in Smithers, is changing his outlook.
“I feel like I must do something before my career becomes all about the awards,” he says. “Ultimately, the biggest award is to have one massive song. I’m going for that.”
Cuba is in a fortunate position, having won four Latin Grammys and two Junos so far in his 18-year career.
The performer, who also has three Grammy nominations, can afford to switch gears. But he’s not striving for something different simply because his reputation allows it — he said he’s tired of the way things are run, especially in Canada.
Cuba’s dissatisfaction began when he transitioned from the traditional Cuban music of his youth into a hybrid of Latin music, Americana and traditional pop.
When he was based in Victoria and recording with his brother, Adonis Puentes, Cuba (whose real name is Alexis Puentes) helped kickstart the Latin music resurgence in this country.
Morumba Cubana, the siblings’ debut as the Peuntes Brothers, earned a Juno nomination for best global album in 2001, but Cuba pushed the boundaries when he went solo soon after, and faced criticism from some traditionalists.
“People were asking me if I was selling out, because I started playing electric guitar on my albums. I took the chains off. Yes, I am from Cuba, but that doesn’t mean I should only eat rice and beans, you know what I mean?
“The albums I create should be without limits, and that’s exactly what I’ve been doing, music-wise. And that’s why I’ve been winning Grammy Awards, for thinking outside of the box. Latin music in Canada is so young, so anyone who thinks they know it only thinks about the traditional.”
Cuba is critical of the Junos and how they are run, despite success in the world-music category.
This year, he did not submit his new album, Lo Único Constante, for consideration in that category, which he would have likely won. Instead, he entered for adult contemporary and songwriter of the year.
It’s something he started doing two albums ago. “They would always end up calling us and say: ‘Are you sure you want to do this? We strongly suggest you move this to the world-music category, because you have more of a chance of getting nominated.’
“And we would always end up giving in. But this time, we said no. It would be way more meaningful to get a nomination in any of those categories and not win, than to get a world-music nomination and actually win it. It doesn’t mean anything anymore for me.”
Cuba said he started questioning how the Junos are run.
“Just because you have an ethnic-flavoured album that Canada Council for the Arts [grant] pays for, you shouldn’t be nominated. The response from the Junos has always been that there has not been enough Latin music in Canada to create its own category. So I guess I’m done with the Junos. Fine.”
He’s not done with his career, however — not by a long shot. Lo Único Constante finds Cuba discovering the filin movement of his native country, a genre that blends Cuban music with black Americana.
Known for pushing the boundaries, Cuba said he went even deeper into uncharted territory on his sixth solo album, and emerged with something he considers special.
During a trip to Cuba two years ago, he played some of his new material for passersby, and was overwhelmed by their positive reaction, in a country where distaste for music that mixes traditions is common.
“At a few of the hotels, I’d bring my guitar out to the lobby and just sit there playing and singing. I like lobbies, because they usually have nice acoustics. People everywhere would come up to me and say: ‘Who are you?’ and before I knew it, I’d have a crowd. My music is unexplainable to them; they only know they like it. But how I got there musically, they can’t see it. That was encouraging for me, because I thought I was getting too Anglo, too Yankee — too white. That I was losing my Cuban-ness.
“But I guess my music has the right amount of tradition in it for them to grab onto it.”
Cuba says most Cubans of his generation have been exposed to American music, but struggle with unfamiliar technology.
“Musicians don’t know what [guitar] pedal to use, or anything about technology. When you grow up listening to American music, [you wonder] how they got those sounds. When they hear my music, they get everything they wanted to hear.”
Cuba moved to Smithers with his wife in 2003, after four years in Victoria.
It took him a while to adapt to life in a town that’s mired in snow in winter.
“I had to mature fast,” he said with a laugh — but he eventually found creative ways to get his snow game up to speed.
“Now, I’m the king of the ice, man,” Cuba said. “Not only do I roll in the snow when I’m getting out of the hot tub, I lie in the snow for as long as I can.”
Every New Year’s Eve, he said, he goes to his mother-in-law’s place and he and four others hold a contest to see how long they can stay in the snow.
“I’ve won three years in a row. The longest I’ve lasted is 51Ú2 minutes. By the time you’re back in the hot tub, you feel the cold inside your body.
“The first time I did it, I thought for sure I was going to get pneumonia. But nothing happened, so the next morning, I figured I’d better keep doing this.”
