Cumbia Accordion King in Passport Series Finale

Review: Yeison Landero Thursday, May 14 at Proctors GE Theatre

When Colombian cumbia king Yeison Landero called out nations at Proctors GE Theatre Thursday to pinpoint fans’ origins, each remote homeland drew cheers. “Colombia! Mexico! Ecuador! Panama! Costa Rica!” Then a woman tentatively called out “Albany?” to loud laughs. Wherever folks came from, they met in kinetic border-busting joy.

Well before the end of the accordionist-singer’s 90 minutes onstage, borders between musicians and fans had blurred, too. Dancers packed the floor beside his six-piece beat-busy band and players sometimes wandered among them.

Landero’s players were easy to spot in wide-brimmed hats, and the magnetic Landero – his name stitched on the chests of players’ pastel shirts – focused the formidable energy in the place with non-stop accordion riffing and hearty vocal power, singing in Spanish.

No translation necessary, though; the beat brought the heat, and the high clatter of timbales delivered the first solo of the night. Happy crowd chat, also largely in Spanish, faded in the seats as watchers became dancers.

Like reggae, or blues, many songs cited cumbia itself, the distinctive hybrid style Landero learned from his grandfather Andres who transformed this coastal Colombian folk music by adding accordion to indigenous, African, and Spanish flavors. It’s tribal, it’s traditional and engages as both story-telling and sonic force. Did I mention timbales delivered the first solo?

Landero switched off between two button accordions to change keys, seldom soloing but never needing to as the ensemble was the thing; and the dancers. Behind him, three percussionists beat timbales (Andres Ramirez) and congas (Daniel Movilla); conga player Jeivier Rodriquez also chimed in on melodies with gaita, a wooden flute that sometimes seemed electronically echoed. Flanking Landero stood super-steady bassist Anibal Hernandez and Javier Guerra, a hyperactive player of the guacharaca, a bright serrated metal cylinder scratched in relentless counter-rhythms. Everybody sang, including many fans in the audience who knew every word.

They sang in praise of farmers; of Colombia, Mexico and other homelands; of love; of the sea; of family; of cumbia busting borders; of past golden ages and hopes for the future. The words rang sincere, the beats and melodies behind them felt like a gloriously noisy embrace, a soundtrack familiar to fans of merengue, salsa, clave and other Afro-Caribbean rhythms.

Landero’s road manager and translator Javier Mutis Garcia deciphered things in English near the end. He announced their intent to “bring a little happiness in these strange days,” understating both the dire state of things, civilization-wise, and the power of music to unite, share and elate.

Music Haven presented Yeison Landero as its final fall-winter-spring indoor Passport Series concert and will announce its outdoor free show summer series shortly.

Music Haven impresario Mona Golub introduced the concert in both English and Spanish. Later, while she stood down front, a fan introduced his 91-year-old grandmother to her, happily dancing and inspiring Golub to do the same. Full disclosure: nearby danced not only the ubiquitous Steve Nover but my daughter Pisie and her husband Tony.