The Hipodromo Condesa is a well known neighborhood of Mexico City, famous for its cafés, bars, and restaurants. Of course, since the whole area used to be a horse racing track up until just about a century ago, the buildings it features are mostly from the 1920's and 30's, and therefor lavish Art Deco and Art Nouveau mansions, in midst of lush greenery, lots of parks, and Barcelona-like ramblas. Though today it is in fact the numerous dining establishments the Condesa is famous for, and thus you might guess the two main drawbacks of the place, which are sufficient reasons for me to avoid the area all together. One of them are the inflated prices, for nothing more than the simple reason of being in the Condesa (hallelujah), the other one having to do with the numerous beggars, street musicians, and vendors of flowers, candy, mass produced tourist crap, or any other junk people may be persuaded into buying.
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However, this Christmas weekend I found myself having lunch in the Condesa after all, together with my wife, her mom, aunts and cousins. And after all, why not? Sitting in the filtered sunlight on a recently constructed Covid terrace, while having a pleasant chat over artisan beer is not so bad after all. At least it makes a nice exception, while reminding me why it's supposed to be exceptional in the first place. After a while one gets tired of telling vendors that I'm not interested in their stuff, not to mention the music... But then we got treated to an unexpectedly lovely experience.
Enter Smooth Voiced José Luis
Suddenly a guy rolls up on his bicycle with a guitar on his back, and starts setting up behind the terrace we were sitting on. Oh well, I was thinking to myself, here comes another music doodler who we may have to shout over, if we want to hear ourselves think. But then his performance didn't turn out that bad, and by the end I actually liked it, at least sufficiently so to dedicate this post to him.
His name was José Luis Escalonaa, where the double-a at the end is the distinguishing factor from his numerous namesakes all over the Internet. I asked for his online presence, hoping to find maybe some artist's website, possibly a YouTube channel, or at least an audiblog with his demo recordings, but he only gave me his Instagram page. Okay, that's a start at least. There you can see some images of his postings, many of which even have a link to other places, like this video of him and some other musicians covering the Daft Punk hit Fragments of Time.
Throwback to the 90's Soft Rock
When I first recognized the songs José Luis was going to play, I was immediately reminded of middle school in the early nineties. Back then pre-pubescent girls (and sometimes boys) would cover their books in stylish wrapping paper featuring sepia colored photos of post-pubescent teens in pensive poses, tender embraces, and dreamy looks, while being surrounded by rusty machinery in industrial wastelands. Of course, these images had a soundtrack, which could range from the Flying Pickets acapella version of Yazoo's Only You to More Than Words by Extreme.
Mind you, I was never into any of this, neither the sensual sepia images, nor the soft rock hits... until now, maybe. A bit of nostalgia goes a long way, after all, and the gift of José Luis is surely his voice, making sound everything a little bit smoother. So in this case I actually quite enjoyed the music I had never asked for, reminding me of things I was not a big fan of back in the days... But remembering those days sure was nice. So I even told our musician, I was going to feature him in one of my blog posts. Thank you, José Luis, for your musical gift. And if anyone of you may be eating in the Condesa anytime soon, keep your eyes and ears pealed for this hipster with the beautiful voice!
Take a Look at the Previous Posts in my Monday Music Series:
The Sound of the Hungarian Zither
Obligatory Line-Dance at Mexican Parties - El Payaso del Rodeo
Floating Into the Night by Julee Cruise
Classic Canadiana - Stan Rogers
Party Like There's No Tomorrow, Cry Like Everything Is Lost - Hungarian Gypsy Music
The Harder Sound of the Middle Ages - Corvus Corax
The First Hip-Hop I Actually Liked - Things Fall Apart by The Roots
No Prophets in Their Own Land - Rodrigo y Gabriela
Beyond the Boundries of Styles and Genres - King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard
Accordion-Rock You May Not Know (But Really Should) - Los Tabascos
Songs of the Mexican Revolution - La Adelita
Memorable Weirdness - What Do You Want A Japanese To Do Again?
Gloomy Sunday - The Hungarian Suicide Song
Party Tunes from the Wild East - The "Russendisko" Experience
Folk Songs from Your Home Village - Hungarian Regional Sound Archives
Polynesian Salt Water Music
Images Conjured up by Tom Waits' Music
In Country: Folks Songs of Americans in the Vietnam War
Somebody Tell Me - Translating a Hungarian Song Into [EN] and [SP]
Somebody Tell Me - first trial & live performance [HU] [SP] [EN]
Horst Wessel in Mexico
Playing for Change: Old Favorites Played Around the World
Soothing Tunes and Gentle Rhythms of Mali Music
What Is It About Music? [Ecotrain's Question of the Week]
Halász Judit: Memories from my Childhood
Discovering Rocksteady
The New Generation of Banda
Horrible Music From Hungary: Dáridó or Wedding Rock
[ENG - ESP] 3 Songs From My Youth / 3 Canciones De Mi Adolescencia
Dick Dale: Surfer Tunes from the 60's
Tiny Desk Concert with the Kronos Quartet
Ghymes, Palmetta, Deep Forest: The Love-Hate of Hungarian Crossover
Crossover Styles: Cooking With Many Ingredients
Shady Grove: My First Impression Leading up to Discovering The Grateful Dead
The Grateful Dead: Endless Jams and Weird Imagery
Ratatat: Electronic Hip-Hop Beats for Studying and More
Flogging Molly: Irish Music With That Extra Bite
Manu Chao: International Sound of the Revolution
Dead Can Dance: Music for Dreaming of Times Past
Putumayo: Embarking on a Musical World Trip
An Audiovisual Return to Monkey Island
A Relatable Country Tale: Truck Got Stuck by Corb Lund
Charlotte Church: Lovely Vocals To Dream To
Francesco Zappa: Electronic Chamer Music by a Famous Namesake
Fishermen's Friends: Lewd Sea Shanties Sung by a Maritime Men's Choir