Cuanto Le Gusta El Cumbanchero: A Latin Fiesta That’ll Make You Forget Your Name (And Maybe Your Shoes)
Alright, let’s talk about Cuanto Le Gusta El Cumbanchero by Alvaro De La Torre Et Son Orchestre Cubain. First off, the name alone is a mouthful—like trying to order a complicated coffee drink in Paris. But don’t let that scare you. This album is pure Latin fire with a French twist, blending rumba and samba into something that feels like dancing barefoot on a sun-soaked beach… or maybe just your living room if you’re not feeling adventurous.
The album kicks off with “El Cumbanchero,” and oh boy, does it slap. It’s one of those tracks that grabs you by the hips and says, “Hey, stop overthinking life and move!” The rhythm is infectious, like a sugar rush you didn’t know you needed. By the time the trumpets kick in, you’ve already forgotten why you were sad five minutes ago. Honestly, I played this track three times in a row because my feet refused to sit still. If there was ever a song to convince your cat to salsa, this would be it.
Then there’s “Cuanto Le Gusta,” which might as well come with a warning label: “May cause spontaneous smiling.” It’s smoother than your ex’s excuses but way more enjoyable. The percussion here is hypnotic—like someone whispering secrets to your soul through maracas and bongos. Every beat feels intentional, every note dripping with charm. It’s impossible not to hum along, even if you butcher the lyrics (which I absolutely did).
Now, here’s the kicker: this album comes from France via Riviera Records, proving once again that the French do everything with flair—even borrowing Cuban vibes. Who knew Parisians could channel Havana so effortlessly? It’s like they took all the passion of Latin music, gave it a little je ne sais quoi, and served it up with a side of croissants.
If you’re looking for background music to sip wine to, nah, this ain’t it. But if you want an album that makes you feel alive, sweaty, and slightly out of breath, Cuanto Le Gusta El Cumbanchero has got your back. Just be warned—you might end up spinning around your kitchen at 2 a.m., wondering how you ended up with flour on your shirt.
Final thought? Life’s too short for boring music. So crank this up, lose your shoes, and remember: no one ever regretted dancing like nobody was watching. Except maybe your neighbors.
