Album Review: Contemporaneos 12 by Hector Angulo – A Cuban Classical Gem That'll Knock Your Socks Off
Let’s cut to the chase: Contemporaneos 12 is one of those albums you didn’t know you needed until it smacks you upside the head with its brilliance. Brought to life by Cuban composer Hector Angulo and released under Egrem Records, this post-modern, contemporary classical masterpiece feels like a love letter to both tradition and rebellion. It's got everything—piano wizardry, baritone vocals that could melt steel, and an orchestra that sounds like they’re having the time of their lives.
First up, let’s talk about “Toque (Para Piano Y Percusión Cubana).” This track kicks things off with a bang—or more accurately, a rhythmic punch in the gut. The interplay between piano and Cuban percussion is so tight, it’s practically flirting. You can almost picture the musicians locked in some sort of musical stare-down, daring each other to go faster, harder, louder. And just when you think it can’t get any wilder, BAM—it drops into this hypnotic groove that makes your foot tap involuntarily. If you’ve ever wondered what would happen if Bach went on vacation in Havana, here’s your answer.
Then there’s “Tres Cantos (Para Barítono Y Orquesta) - II. Niños De Viet Nam,” which hits different. Hugo Marcos’ baritone voice is front and center here, delivering lines with such raw emotion that you might find yourself reaching for tissues halfway through. The lyrics are poignant, paying tribute to Vietnamese children caught in war, but it’s the orchestration that steals the show. The strings swell like waves crashing against rocks, while brass stabs add little jolts of urgency. By the end, you're not sure whether to applaud or cry—or maybe do both at once. Either way, it sticks with you long after the final note fades.
What really ties all these tracks together is how unapologetically Cuban they feel, even as they push boundaries. Sure, Angulo borrows from Western classical traditions, but he infuses them with Afro-Caribbean soul in a way that feels fresh yet deeply rooted. Credit also goes to the production team; engineer Jerzy Belc deserves a medal for capturing every nuance without over-polishing the sound. Meanwhile, conductor Manuel Duchesne Cuzán clearly wrangled the Orquesta Sinfónica Nacional into peak performance mode because, wow, does this ensemble deliver.
So why should you care? Well, beyond being a killer listen, Contemporaneos 12 reminds us that music doesn’t have to fit neatly into boxes. It’s okay to be messy, complicated, beautiful—all at once. Listening to this album feels like eavesdropping on a conversation between centuries, continents, and cultures. Oh, and did I mention it features a piece dedicated to Salvador Allende AND Victor Jara? Talk about flexing political depth alongside musical chops.
In conclusion, Contemporaneos 12 isn’t just an album—it’s an experience. One minute you’re vibing to infectious rhythms, the next you’re contemplating humanity’s failures. Honestly, it’s exhausting in the best possible way. Just don’t blame me if you start randomly humming along to “Niños De Viet Nam” during your morning commute. Trust me, it happens.
Final thought: If Hector Angulo ever decides to write a symphony about making coffee, sign me up immediately. Because if anyone can make grinding beans sound profound, it’s him.
Rating: 9/10 – Only docked a point because my cat kept trying to walk across the keyboard while I was writing this review.
