365 True Things: 196/Music: Los Lobos

Friday morning I saw an article in the Los Angeles Times about Los Lobos—together since 1973!—being inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. I shared it on Facebook: I'm a big fan of Los Lobos, although I wouldn't say I follow them, exactly. As with so many groups or singer-songwriters I discovered in the '80s, I have several of their early albums and then have lost sight of them in the last, oh, twenty years.

In the case of Los Lobos, of their twenty-one albums, we have four: La pistola y el corazón (1988), The Neighborhood (1990), Kiko (1992), and Colossal Head (1996). I love the first three of these; the fourth, I didn't get into—and so I stopped following them? Something like that.

That said, we've seen them several times in concert. I believe the first time was on their Kiko tour, not long after we'd moved to Monterey. It was an open-air venue in the hills above Saratoga, a lovely sunny day, everyone had picnics. We were lying on the grass digging the music—and then they started in on "Kiko" itself. David and I looked at each other: it was a tango! We'd just learned the tango in a dance class at the local college! We leapt to our feet and had the sweetest time tangoing back and forth—very basically, no swooping and swirling—on the gravel path. It made us both so happy!

Every so often, we put the Kiko CD on and dance. For a different set of rhythms, I also enjoy their Mexican album—dancing to it, or just sitting back and listening. They have a great range, and great style. They make me happy. (I should listen to The Neighborhood, and maybe even Colossal Head, again. Maybe the latter just hit me at the wrong time. I mean, what kind of a name is "Colossal Head"?)

So anyway, I posted that LA Times article on Facebook, and my friend Jamie commented that they'd be in Santa Cruz the very next day. I immediately hopped online and ordered tickets for the late show.

We arrived yesterday evening at 8:30, when the "doors opened." (Yes, the doors were open—but the line wasn't moving.) Eventually, we got in, and got something to drink, and the place filled up. And then the band came on.

At first, I was feeling a little regretful: it was crowded, and people were in my way. (This is a dance club, not a concert venue.) It was hot. And when the band started playing, it was loud. We moved farther back; that helped, with the volume at least.

The first few tunes were unfamiliar—probably from their new album, Gates of Gold. They were good, but I wanted something I knew.

And then it came: "Emily," from The Neighborhood.

And my body started to move.

Others I knew followed—"Just a Man," "I Walk Alone," "Evangeline," "Whiskey Trail," "That Train Don't Stop Here" (which by all rights should be followed by "Kiko," but alas, not tonight). And they did covers, too, like, of course, "La Bamba" and "One Way Out." Interspersed with tunes that I didn't know, but by then I didn't care: I was dancing!

It was great! So glad we went!