Eduardo Sosa and Ernesto Rodriguez sing to drive away sadness

I once heard Joaquín Borges Triana say that, if there were an important market for jazz in Cuba, many duos and trios that moved in the trova environment would have survived. Cuban song has always experienced a constant hybridization.

In the 1990s, duets and trios reached great importance, with examples such as Gema y Pavel, Cachibache, Hoby, Trio Enserie and Postrova. The latter recorded two albums with EMI Production; they were among the first Cuban artists to work with this multinational. Their imprint reached international promoters such as Seju Monzón, who believed in the possibility of promoting what he called the "Joven Son".

After working with Emilio Vega as producer, Postrova -composed by Ernesto Rodríguez and Eduardo Sosa- met with producer Rosa León to launch a second album. The first included figures such as Emilito del Monte, Ruy López-Nussa, El Chino Verdecia, Alfredo Thomson, José Luis Cortés and César López. In the second one, they incorporated figures such as Pancho Amat or Antonio Serrano and did a duet with Ana Belén, singing nothing more and nothing less than The Kleptomaniac.

Here I stop. Eduardo Sosa, who told me everything (after all, we wrote many songs together and lived through mutual pains), told me that when Ana Belén came to record, they were only going to do test vocals, support vocals; but when they saw her in the studio, dressed as the most common mortal, Sosa sang, impressed, and so well that he could not do better. And that was the voice that remained.

Another stop: there are a thousand stories, the career of more than 20 years, "guitars in between". In Madrid, at the beginning of the century, the Postrovas went to eat at some restaurant that already reminded me of Salvador Palomino; after a few minutes, they realized that Fito Páez was there. Palomino went to the Argentinean's table and told him:
-I have the person who makes the best version of A dress and a love in this world.

Fito leaned back in his chair, stared with his rosy eyes; at last, he was not going to let them put the ball in his goal.
-Che, you have to compete with greats: La Negra, Caetano....
-This one sings it better.
-Let's see.

And Eduardo Sosa grabbed all the guitar, he went through life. We spent early mornings together listening to Fito, and he sang as only Eduardo Sosa can. Fito asked, "please, one more time", and they closed the restaurant singing on guitar, drinking Cuban rum, admiring the voice of the man from Santiago.

Eduardo Sosa and Ernesto Rodríguez with Fito Paez and part of his production team in Madrid. Photo: Courtesy of the author.

Postrova was Ernesto's "requinto", Sosa's guitar, a voice close to perfection and a lot of verse, as well as an incessant search, because there was jazz, blues, timba, bolero, reggae and much more. His themes ranged from literature to parodies of popular songs.

To be honest, their first album did not do them justice. It happens a lot in the song: what is achieved on stage is difficult to capture in a phonogram. Trio Enserie, whose album stood out much less than what they achieved live, know this.

They are different matters, but an eloquent production should reflect the best of the artist, not the personal, absolute vision, let's say, of the producer.

Postrova's second album, by the way, was produced by Rosa León, who came from pop music and, apparently, Seju Monzón had the idea that, with her, he would mold the concerns of musicians who were not afraid to enter any field. They recorded between Cuba and Spain and, as I said, there were great figures, but the phonogram did not see the light of day.

It was 2001, there was a resounding fall in the industry, the Twin Towers also fell and it was impossible to continue. Ernesto went to live "outside", and Eduardo Sosa, like his partner, continued alone. Both have done their work as far as they could. There has always been room for dialogue, even to sing together, as happened at the Pabellón Cuba a few years ago.

Eduardo Sosa has had an important record production in Cuba, has presided over festivals, has traveled to many parts of the world and, above all, has made a resounding defense of the Cuban song.

Few people know the song as well as Sosa. He toured for a long time with Lino Betancourt: while the musicologist narrated, Eduardo Sosa sang the song with the neat handling of his guitar and his voice, which manages, in trova, to make second voices with the same ease as the cousins.

Eduardo was born in April 1972, in El Jobo, Tumba Siete, Segundo Frente. I heard him for the first time at the Casa del Estudiante, at the Instituto Superior Pedagógico Frank País, and it was then that we exchanged Hemingway, Salinger, García Márquez, Proust or Cervantes and Fito, Spinetta, Charly and a lot of Silvio.

I'm talking about a friend, and that may make me an over-quotable partial, but I'm not wrong in saying that he also has some of the most beautiful songs that can be written; that his record -As if they were mine- He is one of the most faithful and courageous human beings I have ever met in my life. May this text serve so that, when he wakes up from the induced coma he is living in, he knows that, in Lansdale, Pennsylvania, like many Cubans, I am waiting for him to follow the song.