- There was something wonderful about everybody's doing beep beep, ah, beep beep, and it was just fun.

NATASHA DEL TORO: In the streets of Spanish Harlem, a fresh sound emerges using Afro-Cuban melodies with rhythm and blues.

- Once you start feelin' those poly rhythms in your spirit, you start bugging out, like yow!

DEL TORO: We Like It Like That on America ReFramed.

♪ (vocalizing instrumental parts) Okay, that's the lick.

♪ Ah... beep-beep, ah... beep-beep ♪ ♪ Bang bang, aah He said, "We gonna record this."

♪ Beep-beep ♪ Ah... beep-beep ♪ ♪ Ah... beep-beep ♪ Ah... beep-beep ♪ ♪ Ah... beep-beep ♪ Ah beep-beep ♪ Ah... beep-beep ♪ Ah... beep-beep ♪ ♪ Bang bang ♪ Bang bang ♪ Bang bang ♪ Bang bang ♪ Bang bang ♪ Bang bang.

(police siren passes) WOMAN: Boogaloo was one of those phenomenons that came out of Latinos born in New York living side-by-side with African-Americans speaking English and surviving in this world.

Our survival music was the boogaloo.

(Adamski's "Flashback Jack" plays) MAN: It really was like a New York experience because it had that whole melting-pot aspect to it.

MAN: It's not that music from Havana, Cuba, that was pure.

It ain't pure no more.

We here.

In this test tube, you put a little bit of Cuban guajira, son montuno, cha-cha-cha, blues chords, some R&B vocal stylings, start shaking it up, throw it out, and what do you get?

Latin boogaloo and Latin soul.

MAN: The younger generation was looking for something under their bag.

They wasn't gonna go backwards.

They liked what they were hearing in the streets, and the boogaloo was there.

We played the way we thought we had to play from the way we grew up.

A lot of us were self-taught musicians.

We were just like in a rush.

We wanted to get things out there.

We wanted to create excitement.

(Joe Bataan's "Subway Joe" plays) COLON: It encompassed for most people in New York a sense of invention from the inside out rather than the outside in.

In my community, in the projects, you heard boogaloo.

You heard it 24/7.

Boogaloo is a urban sound, it's a city sound.

It was a mixture of street music, okay?

And that's what drove people crazy in them days.

We used to play jam sessions in the park, or jam sessions behind the school.

And it would be rhythm, no melodic instruments.

And I remember they sounded great.

If you would hear the sound coming from the park, somebody would tell me, "Uh, Nicky?

They're playing in..." "I know, I know, I hear it, I hear it."

(laughs) And here I'm trying to get my timbales in a... in a sackcloth.

(grunting) And hustling to the park with the other guys.

You know, they can't get us.

We gonna get them.

Every generation wants their own music.

They don't want their parents' music.

In fact, if their parents hate the music, they even like it better.

So, you know, they want... there's something about that they love hearing their father say, "Hey, would you shut that (bleep) off?"

I mean that's... "Oh, my God, my music!"

(Louie and Bobby's "Cookin'" plays) I'm second-generation Puerto Rican.

My mother was born here.

So I own New York.

It's not a question of estoy aqui-- Ay bendito.

No, no, no, no, no.

I walk these streets.

I own this (bleep).

This is mine.

We needed a personal expression that was uniquely ours.

Latin music proper did not do that.

African-American music as it were could not do that.

Latin boogaloo included me.

TITO RAMOS: The younger generation adapted it as their own music.

It was English lyrics with the Latin music of the culture.

♪ Dancin'... turn around, they're cookin' ♪ And not only a younger community of Latinos, a younger community of African-Americans, a younger community of Americans loved this music.

It clicked.

It clicked with the public.

(Latin music playing) BOBBY MARIN: On the weekends at Colgate Gardens, Hunts Point Palace, it was incredible.

I mean, people would stand in line outside waiting to get in, they were so attracted to this music.

Colgate Gardens on a Sunday at 1:00 in the afternoon.

Don't let anybody tell you.

There was a bunch of people on the dance floor clapping and stomping their feet.

WOMAN: I wasn't even of legal age to go dancing, but we did anyways.

We snuck out of the house and we went dancing.

They were all types from all walks and all nationalities doing the boogaloo dance, which was just-- "Let's have some fun."

(Monquito Santamaria's "Groovetime" plays) Man: All right.

(chuckles) It's that time again.

Talking about Groovetime Part One.

All right.

( grunts ) ♪ Keep on doing it Give 'em a little help now, come on.

( grunts ) All right, now, now, now, now, now, now.

Lemme hear the piano.

Oh, yeah.

My goodness.

Boogaloo now!

Shake it loose, hey!

Lemme hear the horns.

Can you blow it?

All right.

Get it, get it, get it, get it, don't quit it.

(music fades) One more time.

(Johnny Colón's "Mira Ven Aga" plays) NARRATOR: Like every other group that made the journey in search of a new home, Latinos came to New York City to reinvent themselves.

Puerto Ricans reshaped the city's ethnic landscape after becoming American citizens in 1917.

By the end of World War II, neighborhoods with a strong Latino presence were pulsing throughout the city.

(man singing in Spanish) I grew up in El Barrio.

That was East Harlem.

Mom and the neighbors would be hanging out of the windows chit-chatting back and forth.

Down the block would be the local stickball game.

FLORES: We all played in the streets.

We played in the pumps when it was sweltering hot, those hot summer days.

There was also music everywhere, all over the streets.

COLON: Everybody had a window open with music.

Music was always playing.

East 106th Street, you could turn around and go right to one of the cars, which had these wonderful fenders and we'd go... (vocalizing rhythms) We'd be jamming on the car fenders, and somebody would yell out, "Hey!

Get off my car!"

And then we'd chill.

BATAAN: This was Dragon's Park.

This was the first notorious gang from East Harlem, and we hanged out right here in this park.

The guys used to stand on the benches here.

We would serenade the girls, or else we would hang out drinking a bottle of wine and what have you.

It was all part of growing up.

When we ever tried to run from the police, we ran through these tunnels.

This is how quickly you can disappear through here!

(laughs) See what I mean?

I grew up in Red Hook in South Brooklyn.

I grew up with all kinds of people, Jews, Germans, Irish, Puerto Rican, Blacks.

And I thank God every day for that.

Growing up in New York City was very exciting because there were a lot of other communities that we interacted with.

The first one, of course, living in the projects, would be the black community.

BATAAN: My mother was black.

My father was Filipino.

He was... had (beep) eyes, jet-black hair, and he came from Manila.

SANDRA MARIA ESTEVES: We all hung out together.

We were friends with each other.

We ate in each other's houses.

We cooked each other's food.

They developed a taste for sofrito and rice and beans, and we developed a taste for collard greens and cornbread.

NARRATOR: As Latinos settled into the melting pot, Latin music was making its way into the mainstream with mambo, an Afro-Cuban style of music with jazz influences.

In the 1950s, the big style was the mambo.

Tito Puente, number one.

Tito Rodriguez, and Machito.

Those were the big three.

Mambo became very popular in the early '50s.

When I heard Tito Puente, I always wanted to see him.

I went to see all these groups before I even thought about playing.

I actually didn't start playing until I heard Tito Puente's "El Rey del Timbal."

Well, here's our Spanish lesson for tonight.

Soy el rey del timbal.

That means that he is the king of the timbales.

And that would naturally be none other than Tito Puente, and here he is to prove it to us with some help from the gang!

Tito!

PASTRANA: I was about eight, nine years old.

I used to love to play that solo that Tito played.

I used to play it on the lamp, and I played it on the washing machine, whatever Tito played, I used to play it.

NARRATOR: While America embraced the mambo craze, young Latinos in New York were still struggling to find acceptance in a world that often treated them like outsiders.

RAMOS: I remember when I... when I went to school, they would say to me, "You don't speak Spanish here.

This is America-- you speak English."

I was called "colon."

I was called "coal-on."

I was called "cologne."

You know, like in... Of course, my mother always said "Colón," but I thought it was because she had an accent.

Growing up, I really wasn't into Latin music.

I got more interested in what I was listening to on the radio, which was doo-wop music.

I just fell in love with that sound.

♪ Ooh-wah, ooh-wah ♪ Ooh-wah, ooh-wah Every generation has a new sound.

When I grew up, I grew up with doo-wop.

That was our music.

I got very involved in doo-wop music, which is just harmonizing and looking for a place where you find a great echo, and that's where you wanted to kind of celebrate.

Follow me.

Yes.

(echoing): Oh!

♪ Ooh There you go.

Let's see if you got light.

This is the echo chamber.

I'm gonna tell you what I mean.

When you sing in here, the acoustics sound like if you're in a recording studio or you're on stage, so we didn't need music.

And this sort of acted as a backdrop, and it goes like this.

♪ Darling ♪ Oh ♪ When we get married ♪ We'll have a big celebration ♪ ♪ We'll have a ball ♪ Dancing and all ♪ When we get married.

LUCIANO: In the '60s, the traditional Latin music didn't match our hips, it didn't match our rhythm, it didn't match our asses, it didn't match our language, it didn't match our idiomatic expressions, it didn't match our relationship with African-Americans.

The Twist came in, you know, everybody went Twist crazy.

They had Twist bands at the Palladium, the home of the mambo, you know?

You can do the pachanga.

(vocalizing rhythm) But one of the main things is if you didn't know how to do the mashed potato... or you didn't know how to grind... (laughs) No, come on, give me a break, you know?

Although we... we liked the Latin music because it was part of our culture and we would always listen to that when we'd go to Grandma's and when we had the parties, I would say the guys my age during that time were into Motown, uh, Marvin Gaye, the Temptations, Gladys Knight.

I mean, from doo-wop, that's where we went.

That was it, that was the hip music.

I had to be hip, I don't know.

You're from Brooklyn, you have to be hip.

BOBBY SANABRIA: Young Latinos who are just teenagers, they don't have that connection to the mambo era.

They have the connection to the radio, what they're listening to-- rock and roll, doo-wop, and R&B.

NARRATOR: As younger Latinos embraced the popular music of the day, the aspiring musicians among them were trying to overcome the obstacles that poverty and racism put in their way.

COLON: This was my high school, Patrick Henry Junior High School.

They stopped me from auditioning to the schools I really wanted to go to, School of Performing Arts or the School of Music and Art.

But yet the other kids who didn't even have any talent, because they were of a different ethnicity would be recommended to go there.

This is part of what went on, but it... all in all, you know, I took the good that was here and used it to my advantage.

My parents couldn't afford a piano.

So I had to go to people's house, beg if I could touch their piano, sneak into the school.

Actually, at St. Cecilia's Church, I made a key, and I used to sneak in, and the father caught me at 2:00 in the morning.

And I said, "Father, I didn't take anything.

All I wanted to do was play the piano."

I don't know how it is, but is there any way to go downstairs where that piano used to be?

PRIEST: Yeah, yeah, yeah.

yeah, it is still there.

- Oh, get outta here!

- It's still there.

- What?

We got one, he said the piano's still there.

- It is still there, but it's locked.

- Oh, it's locked.

- I can't help it, because the...

I think the one who locked it threw the key away.

- Get out of here-- you serious?

The piano doesn't know what it did for my life.

50 years ago, I played this piano.

Oh, we're trying to open it.

Nothing is easy.

In the old days, we wouldn't take this long.

We would have already kicked that lock off.

(laughs) Watch your fingers.

Oh!

- That's it.

- Oh, wow, you got keys on here, boy.

All right.

Okay.

(laughs) So actually, when we first sat down at this piano, we didn't know anything.

And I would fiddle with the notes, play not knowing what I was doing, and the first chord I learned was C Major.

I said, "I wonder what happens if I take the progression up?"

And I went... and I said, "Wow."

I said, "That's almost like a song."

I said, "What if I go up another time?"

(plays chord) I said, "Man, I could do something with this.

"Let me try to move my fingers around, and maybe I could pretend like I'm really playing the piano."

So what I did was.... And I kept doing that for, I mean, days on days end, just the same three chords.

And I actually fell in love with these chords.

♪ I just gotta know ♪ Oh ♪ Oh ♪ If you love me ♪ Ooh Thank you, Father Peter.

(laughs) All right.

(Ray Barretto's "El Watuisi" plays) NARRATOR: By the mid-1960s, some artists who had started their careers playing mambo began expanding the possibilities of what Latin music could be, getting the attention of younger musicians still seeking their own sound.

RICARDO "RICHIE" RAY: It was a time when there was a lot of experimentation and new things going on and new sounds, and things were really, like, opening up.

Whenever you mix different cultures together, that happens.

(Eddie Palmieri's "Azucar" plays) I remember Eddie Palmieri-- that was a monster group.

They were original.

They had... they had tipico.

They had the old, but they also had jazz.

They had the new.

It was like a nice fusion-- it was fascinating.

I was a huge jazz fan, but I was trying to figure out where musically I fit.

And somebody said, "You should, you know, listen to Cal Tjader."

Cal Tjader was a drummer, a jazz drummer, who went to the Palladium and saw Tito Puente playing Latin music, probably with a very jazz feel, Because Tito loved jazz as well.

And he decided that he was going to do this.

So he dropped the drums, started playing vibes, and I get to hear this recording.

(vocalizing bass part) That bass line.

(bass intro plays) So, oh, oh!

Wait!

Wait a minute (laughs).

And I just... (exhales sharply) I flipped.

I flipped.

We consciously tried to do something that would be different, that would be different.

See, from the beginning we said, "We may not be as good as Tito Puente, "we may not be as good as Tito Rodriguez, but we can be different."

(singing in Spanish) We noticed that when we would play like a guajira, that there were some people that were doing some steps that we hadn't seen before, you know.

And there was some, like, soul brothers involved in that.

So one day we went over to talk to these folks and said, "Man, you're dancing something when we're playing the guajira "that... we haven't ever quite seen that before, "but it's really interesting.

You know, what's going on with that?"

And they said it was called the boogaloo.

And it kind of goes with the guajira thing, you know?

The only thing is that it has some more funky notes in it, you know?

So it's kind of like a funky guajira.

And I was fascinated by that.

I said, "Whoa, yeah!"

I don't know, I was always fascinated when you mix things together-- that's what always got to me.

(playing piano) You know, that's guajira, right?

But boogaloo has blue notes, so they go...

It's more funky, it's got like a... like a rhythm and blues thing to it, things from jazz.

That's where the Latin boogaloo started.

You know, we actually got that rolling.

First boogaloo, I think, that was ever recorded was a song called "Looky Looky," and it was a real innocent, little, simple, stupid little song, "Looky looky, I do the boogaloo," whatever.

But it had the combination of guajira with the blue notes.

Man: ♪ Looky looky ♪ How I do the boogaloo ♪ Looky looky...

I really became involved in what we called the Latin music back then when I... when I was able to connect with a bandleader by the name of Johnny Colón.

COLON: In 1965 when we got into the studio... and I was on the piano doing this.

That's blues.

See, you hear it?

It makes you almost wanna cry.

See, that's the blues element.

George Goldner signed us to Cotique Records.

He'd been in the business for a long, long time.

He had the ability to put his finger on something that he heard that he thought was going to be a hit.

Like "Boogaloo Blues," when he heard me doing the riff on the piano.

So that's what I was doing.

He said, "Don't do this."

(plays rapid tune) "Stay with..." (plays slow blues riff) ("Boogaloo Blues" plays) RAMOS: I remember George said, "You know, if you keep this little jazzy groove, "and you can add some English lyrics, we might have something there."

(song continues) AVERNE: Johnny's record was really a game-changer.

He came out with a song that was just the right beat, the right-- the right vocal, the right arrangement, and he got everybody dancing.

FLORES: LSD got a hold on me.

I mean we never heard... it was irreverent.

No one would dare say anything like that in classical Latin music.

MEN: ♪ LSD got a hold on me ♪ LSD got a hold on me... LUCIANO: "Boogaloo Blues" talked more of the juicer aspects of our culture.

This was discussing our lives and our contradictions.

And that's why we were attracted to it.

MAN: Mr. Johnny Colón, baby.

(Colón laughs) Hey, look.

He's history in this barrio.

- Thank you, man.

- ♪ And as I play this same tune ♪ ♪ That we call the...

BOTH: ♪ Boogaloo blues NARRATOR: With "Boogaloo Blues," a revolution in Latin music was underway.

Soon, another band would score an even bigger Latin boogaloo hit, the Joe Cuba Sextet.

We were playing this black dance.

We were playing Latin music, and they weren't dancing.

First set, they weren't dancing.

And halfway through the second set, I said, "Listen, I have an idea for a tune.

Let's see if we can get them to dance."

JOE CUBA: We were playing the Palm Gardens, okay?

That became the Cheetah, and it was an all Afro-American audience, not even one Latino.

And Jimmy came and said, "I got a vamp, man.

If you play it, la gente se van a volver loco."

I told him, "Don't bother me because we got all these tunes."

He said, "I'll bet you a beer," and I love beer.

(laughter) So I said, "Okay, you're on."

And they came out.

(vocalizes part) And so we started playing, and all of a sudden, man, the whole audience, like one, started-- "She freaks, ahh, she freaks."

And they were going, "She freaks" from side to side.

And I said, "Que carajo esto."

Whoa, excuse my language.

They're going from side to side "She freaks, ahh, she freaks, ahh."

So I said, "Let me get out of here before we get arrested."

(laughs) So we were going from there to Asbury Park, a country club out there.

They had nothing but rich people out there.

And I don't know if you know how rich people dance.

They hardly dance-- they don't wanna sweat.

(laughter) You know, and when they get on the dance floor, you gotta play it very, very slow.

So I came up with a coro for that vamp.

Beep-beep, ah, beep-beep, ah, beep-beep-- asi, asi, ah.

Beep-beep, ah.

That was great.

So when I came back to New York, to the Palm Gardens, and we started playing the tune, and I started "beep-beep, ah" and you heard out in the audience, "Oh (bleep), Joe, God damn man.

"It's 'she freaks, ah, she freaks, ah.

Beep-beep, ah, beep-beep.'"

(speaks Spanish) That's how "Bang-Bang" was created.

Man: ♪ Beep-beep, ah ♪ Beep-beep, ah ♪ Oh, sock it to me ♪ Beep-beep, ah...

There was something wonderful about being on the dance floor and everybody's doing, "Beep-beep, ah, beep-beep."

And it was just fun.

("Bang Bang" continues) When I heard on my little transistor radio Cousin Brucie playing "Bang Bang," that to me meant we arrived.

DAISY RIVERA: We had to learn how to dance that.

It was so important that we actually practiced dancing "Bang Bang."

If you didn't know how to dance, that was it-- it was not happening.

You'd groove with it, man.

You went from side to side... (vocalizing, snapping fingers) You didn't have to conform to complicated dance steps, and you didn't even have to be in clave.

All you had to do was dance.

(song continues) ♪ Bang bang ♪ Bang bang ♪ Bang bang ♪ Bang bang ♪ Bang bang.

NARRATOR: While "Bang Bang" popularized the Latin boogaloo dance, a new band was set to create Latin boogaloo's most iconic song.

The band was doing small jobs.

We got together one day to do a demo.

BONILLA: We get to the studio, you know, we give 'em whatever we had.

It was good, but the guy wanted something more Americano.

So Tony Pabon, our king of doo-wop, he shouted out a "Ladies and gentlemen."

TONY PABON: I take great pleasure in introducing to you Mr. Pete Rodriguez.

(cheers and applause) RODRIGUEZ: Thank you, thank you, thank you.

And for my latest basket of cheers, here it goes, baby.

♪ Ooh, ahh, ooh, ahh ♪ That's the fastest recording I ever made in my life.

Boom, boom, boom, two sides, we're done.

And "I Like It Like That" was on there.

(playing "I Like It Like That") ♪ Here and now, let's get this straight ♪ ♪ Boogaloo, baby, I made it great ♪ ♪ Because I made it a Latin beat ♪ ♪ You know, baby, I'm... (mutters indistinctly) ♪ (humming tune softly) That's it.

(laughs) That's it, baby.

("I Like It Like That" plays) BONILLA: I remember we were going to work, boom-- "I Like It Like That" comes on the radio.

Naturally, the five of us in the car went crazy, man.

"Oh, (bleep), man, ohh!"

But then, you know, "I Like It Like That" grew to tremendous proportions.

Just... big, man, you know what I mean?

COLON: It connected.

Just a great groovy sound altogether.

The kids dug it.

RAY: Pete Rodriguez hit a grand slam home run all time with a boogaloo called "I Like It Like That."

♪ Yea-a-ah, baby ♪ I like it like that ♪ Gotta believe me when I tell you ♪ ♪ I said I like it like that... ♪ NARRATOR: With "I Like It Like That," the boogaloo explosion was in full swing.

A string of new artists were beginning to make a name for themselves.

One of those artists was Joe Bataan.

Gang life and prison time had derailed his musical ambitions.

Now he was determined to make it.

But first, he needed to find a band.

There was a teacher by the name of Mr. Seabrook who allowed me to go into the auditorium where I had been rehearsing for about six months.

Seemed like the auditorium belonged to me after a while.

It got so tough and rough in there that people would come in there, and we would chase them out.

Whether we had to chase them out with knives or chains or bats or whatever it is, that auditorium belonged to Joe Bataan and the fellas.

So I walked into that auditorium, and there were a bunch of guys, young kids in there rehearsing.

And that never happened because they didn't ask my permission, even though the place didn't belong to me.

So I went up to the piano, and I took the knife, and I stuck it into the piano, boom.

And they looked at me like I was crazy, but no one said anything, and I said, "You know what?

I'm the leader of this band."

And that's how we did things back then, you know?

(laughs) ♪ You are ♪ My sunshine ♪ Lovely as you are ♪ I'm so glad ♪ I found you ♪ You are ♪ My lucky star Of course, I would write a lot of songs like that, but that particular day, George Pagan, who sang all the songs-- actually, I was just a piano player.

And I was tinkling around, he said, "Why don't we try something like the boogaloo like a lot of the other bands are doing?"

I said, "Yeah, okay."

So I started playing these chords like this, and I just kept hitting these two chords, and everybody started, you know, filling in.

The conga came in and the bass player.

And then we got Georgie, said, "Look, make up some words and sing along."

So we got a rhythm and we started to play...

So he started to sing, and he had a heavy accent, and actually, the guys were looking at him, and they said, "Why don't you try something different, you know?"

So he got upset.

He said, "Look, you guys know so much, why don't you do it yourself?"

I think he was referring to me.

And actually I said, "Okay."

So at that time, I could write about anything.

So I looked at a group of words that I had on the piano seat.

And I said, "Okay, watch, I'm gonna show you how I do it."

And I looked at it, and I said... ♪ She came from nowhere ♪ To caravan ♪ Lovely lady in motion And then I said, "Let me try it in the boogaloo tempo," and I started to change the beat and I said... And then some of the guys started saying, "She smokes!"

"She smokes!

"Ha, ha, she smokes!

"Ha, she smokes!

Ha, ha, she smokes!"

And then I started to put it together and I said, "Okay, let's do it."

So the whole band got together, and we started playing... And put in a couple of breaks.

And of course, the rest was history.

The boogaloo was born in our backyard.

(laughs) ("Gypsy Woman" plays) ♪ She smokes, ha ha ♪ She smokes, ha ha ♪ ♪ She smokes, ha ha, she smokes... ♪ MARIN: When I heard him play "Gypsy Woman," it really blew my mind because he bridged the gap between Latin music and soul music.

♪ She came from nowhere ♪ To watch this caravan ♪ Gypsy woman...

I saw the reaction from the crowd, and I said, "Wow, this is really gonna be big."

When I heard him sing that "Gypsy Woman" song and the vamp that they had going, I said, "Wow, I like it."

It was something that you could build on, and I saw it, and I felt it.

(soft piano music plays) These lyrics just talked to my soul, you know, they became a voice for me.

It was... it was the poetry that I was exposed to.

♪ I don't drive ♪ Beautiful cars... You wanna know what was really happening in the Barrio?

Listen to what Joe Bataan says.

Don't just listen to the music, listen to his lyrics.

'Cause Joe Bataan sings for real.

For real.

(song fading) RAMOS: I've met a lot of people that were in the Vietnam War who were fortunate enough to come back.

They've always said, "The mere fact "that we could listen to the boogaloo "would, for that moment, separate us from the reality of people dying around us."

(angry chanting in Spanish) You were sort of in the thick of social change in America, and Latin boogaloo is not immune to that at all.

LUCIANO: We didn't have a Puerto Rican civil rights movement.

We didn't have a spokesperson.

We had to make a decision.

That decision came with this break with history via boogaloo.

In a lot of our songs, we started to project the message.

♪ I'm gonna scream, ain't gonna worry... ♪ LUCIANO: We're being affected by the civil rights.

For the first time, we're beginning to say to ourselves, "Why are we taking this stuff?"

Black people don't take it-- why are we taking it?

♪ The times are changing in the USA, y'all ♪ FLORES: We took control.

We took matters into our own hands, and the music was part of that.

BATAAN: We were awaking, we were a big sleeping giant that America was... was starting to see.

Tune in, turn on, drop out, question authority, don't trust anyone over 30.

We weren't living in a vacuum.

That filtered down to us.

And that's what we did.

(upbeat Latin music plays) It was a whole cultural shift.

It was kind of like a breaking with tradition.

You know, you're making a statement.

COLON: When boogaloo came around, the music conveyed a message that says, "You don't have to be dressed up to enjoy or be a part of our music."

FLORES: All of a sudden, you had miniskirts and go-go boots.

When I started, the big bands all wore uniforms.

The people are in jeans.

The people are wearing comfortable clothing.

It's kind of like saying, "Go to the beach with a suit and a tie on."

COLON: I hung on as long as I could because I'm a fuddy-duddy that way.

But even I had to submit to that.

(mellow bass line playing) BONILLA: Drugs played a big part, and played to the demise of a lot people also.

Of course, there was always dope and heroin.

RODRIGUEZ: Drugs were very heavy at that time.

I know a few musicians that went down with the drugs, you know?

A lot of people were into acid, into smoking pot.

PASTRANA: Oh, forget about it-- drugs was all over the place.

You walk into the toilet, and there'd be three or four guys who were smoking a joint, "Hey, wanna blow?"

Whoa, what's going on here, man?

Can I take a (beep) or what?

The classy drug at the time was cocaine, cocaine where you would (sniffs) where you would sniff it.

Not smoke it, but sniff it.

And we all played around with that.

You know, it was part of the scene, it was part of like staying awake and being able to do three or four gigs.

I remember once playing for a connected guy, I guess.

I went to get paid and he put a couple ounces of cocaine on the table, said, "Here, here's your pay."

I said, "Excuse me?"

I said, "No, I want George Washington, Andrew Jackson, you know, green stuff, you know?"

And then I heard a machine gun go click-click.

I said, "Okay, I'll take that."

(laughs) You know?

A lot of these boogaloo bands and bands in general were taken advantage of.

Everybody was getting hustled then.

I sold a quarter of a million records in three weeks.

So I said, "George, what's going on?"

He said, "Oh, Joey, don't worry about it, here.

Take this car."

He gave me a 1965, I think, Lincoln hard-top convertible.

And he gave me a check for $400 or something.

And I said, "Oh, wow, I'm making it, man.

I'm making money."

Meanwhile, this guy made a million dollars on me.

We were young, we were having a ball.

We were crazy, and we were very stupid.

We signed the dumbest contracts, had a lot of girlfriends, a lot of running around, a lot of partying, you know, but we weren't really too smart about business decisions.

George Goldner was a very personable guy.

He could relate to anybody and talk to anybody and pick your brain, but he would also pick your pocket.

ALEX MASUCCI: Morris Levy, when you walked in his office, there was a big thing like this written in script: "I'll make you famous, but I won't make you rich."

Every record company tells the artist, "You'll make your money playing."

Excuse the language-- that's baloney.

NARRATOR: Bad contracts and missing royalties were not the only problems mounting against the young bands made popular by Latin boogaloo.

A lot of these, what I would call, the Latin music elders are being kind of pushed off the record charts and out of ballroom gigs by these young upstart boogaloo bands.

I think part of their beef was economic because they are now competing with this younger generation of musicians.

There was also this belief that boogaloo and Latin soul wasn't real Latin music.

These are timbales.

This is a cowbell.

This is a cha-cha bell.

Okay, this is a cymbal, and this is the paila.

And when you play a mambo, it's very exciting, and it goes like this.

That's a mambo.

Now, the boogaloo is like a cha-cha.

It's slower, but it's also very exciting.

Hey, Gypsy woman!

Wow!

I was getting all the jobs in New York.

So was Johnny Colón, so was Ricardo Rey.

It was like them against us, old school and new school.

Some of the big band leaders, the mambo kings, the guys that were doing music that I loved, it was taking away from their bread and butter.

I think that's the bottom line.

The Joe Bataans, the Joe Cuba, the Ritchie Ray, the Joey Pastrana, they were working for, like, one-third of what Machito or Tito Puente would charge.

So the promoters, what do you think they're gonna do?

They're gonna hire these young guys to bring in the crowds, and they'd be able to bring in three bands for the price of Tito Puente.

At first I remember Tito Puente and all them people, they laughed at us.

They would ridicule us.

I mean, Latinos can get very emotional about things.

So there was a lot of people who were just against this new thing that's adulterating the music.

"We're from the old school, this is what's the right thing."

You had these young kids learning music.

There were no music schools for Latin music at the time.

We had to learn it in the street.

And instead of saying, "Wow, look at all this thirst and passion for knowledge, let's teach them."

Well, they didn't do that.

What there was, they created a resentment.

They created a wall.

They created this feeling of us against them.

"We're the real musicians.

We're the schooled musicians, they're not."

NARRATOR: For Fania artist Larry Harlow, a Jewish piano player from Brooklyn who had spent three years in Cuba studying music, playing Latin boogaloo was not what he wanted to do.

I myself, me, Larry Harlow, Judio maravilloso, was a purist, was a Cuban son montuno, guaguanco kind of guy.

And I really wanted to play really down-home, hard Cuban music in New York City.

Jerry Masucci, who was a purist but yet a record company owner, said, "Listen, I want you to do some boogaloo on your next album."

So I did it.

("Freak Off" playing) I really didn't like it, it's not... it's not a good sampling of my work.

NARRATOR: Like Larry Harlow, many of the musicians who had first resisted boogaloo were eventually persuaded to try it.

All of the older, established bandleaders had to adapt to it, because they all did it whether they liked it or not.

And I was always wondering, well, okay, is that gonna sabotage Machito?

And Eddie Palmieri?

And Tito Puente?

You know, will they bow to the boogaloo?

(lively boogaloo music playing) Eddie was not happy about boogaloo at all.

But business is business.

His record company said, "Hey, Eddie, man, you gotta give me a boogaloo."

Ah-- so what happened?

He does one.

And when he does it, he makes the best boogaloo ever.

("Ay Que Rico" plays) "Ay Que Rico" put every boogaloo to shame, and here's a guy who didn't like boogaloo.

Imagine if he would've liked it.

(laughs) (song continues) ♪ Ay que rico ♪ ♪ Ay que rico ♪ ♪ Ay que rico ♪ I was practicing at one point at one of the recording studios.

Tito Puente was recording next door, and he walked by, and he stops, and he says, "What's that you're playing there?"

I said, "Something that you wouldn't be interested in.

It's boogaloo, and it's for Joe Bataan."

"Oh, really?

Play it again."

So I play it.

He said, "You know what?

I'm recording this song."

He grabs the music right off the piano and storms off.

And I said, "But, Tito, that's for... that's a boogaloo song I'm writing for Joe Bataan."

He said, "(bleep) Joe Bataan, I'm recording this."

♪ I knew it was love ♪ There wasn't a doubt...

When I first heard it, I was like, "Wow, "Tito Puente recording one of my songs, "you know, making an arrangement of one of my songs.

"This is, uh... Joe Bataan would have been good.

But this is the king doing this," so... NARRATOR: One veteran musician's efforts at boogaloo and Latin soul stood out as being innovative and undeniably funky.

AVERNE: Ray Barretto did some magnificent work.

He was always gonna try to accommodate what the market needed.

Ray Barretto's "Acid," I mean, it's just an incredible, phenomenal album.

You know, every cut, doesn't matter what the style is, is killer.

Ray was always socially conscious.

When he does that song "Together"-- "I'm black, I'm white, I'm red," that's his way of telling everybody, "This is who I am as a Nuyorican whether you like it or not."

♪ I know I'm black and I'm white ♪ ♪ And I'm red ♪ Yeah, the blood of mankind flows through me ♪ What else could you say about Ray Barretto?

He would change his style just like that.

At one point he's playing mambo, charanga music, jazz.

Ray Barretto was one of the top bandleaders of any era.

NARRATOR: While veteran musicians adapted to the boogaloo craze, the newer bands made famous by the style also performed and recorded more traditional Latin music, reintroducing the sounds to young audiences.

We mixed the music back and forth.

We were not just a boogaloo band.

You could not play boogaloo all night.

So you played two, three, four boogaloos in a set, and the rest of the tunes were mambos and cha-chas and guajiras and boleros.

There's always a transition when you got a new generation coming up, and they always still retain something of the past but reinterpret it in a different way.

The music was loud, but just like rock, it's about saying kind of like, "Eff you, man."

These young bands, they were so off clave, they were out of tune, but they were doing it.

They were playing it, and they were playing it with an energy and a passion that went beyond the cosmetic mistakes.

We came from, "Heck, I wanna do this "because it feels good to me, it sounds good to me, and somebody else might like it."

Well, let's put the truth out there because a lot of people are not around anymore that were there or people that were around during the impact of the boogaloo on Latin music don't wanna mention it.

When the boogaloo came along, it actually saved Latin music.

Boogaloo changed my identity.

It awakened something inside me.

I'm not listening to Motown anymore.

I'm listening to Cotique records.

I would never have joined the tradition if I didn't have Latin boogaloo.

Once I heard the samples, I wanted to hear more.

So Latin boogaloo was the primordial stuff out of which we became much more loving and much more appreciative of our Latin music.

Had it not been for Latin boogaloo, Latin music would have died.

ESTEVES: There was a shift in consciousness happening.

We're going from rejecting who we are and our identity, and trying to assimilate to then accepting who we are and embracing all the various elements of our identity and saying, "Hey, we love who we are.

We love our music.

We love our community."

(upbeat Latin music playing) NARRATOR: By the early 1970s, as a sense of empowerment and cultural pride spread among Latinos in New York, the concept of salsa, a Spanish-dominated, urbanized mix of traditional Afro-Cuban and Puerto Rican music, took hold.

Many of the bands that became famous during the boogaloo era began to fade quickly.

The question of what happened to them and the boogaloo sound has remained up for debate.

(music fading) Everybody that I've talked to talks about how, um, the powers that be in the recording industry basically conspired to squash that movement.

AVERNE: It was a threat.

This looked like a game-changer for a minute.

If somebody comes up with something new that threatens the foundation of everything that someone has going, they're gonna try to kill 'em.

They're gonna try to choke them off.

They decided to do away with it.

They completely destroyed it.

From one day to another, it was gone.

Top bandleaders were losing money to these teenagers who would be happy to walk away with 15, 20 dollars.

Something had to be done.

Certain companies actually paid the radio DJs to stop playing boogaloo music.

Certain interests in the business needed to have control.

What they decided to do is form a syndicate that would do promotions and not hire the so-called boogaloo bands.

They wanted to just get these young guys out of the way, yours truly included.

Boogaloo hit so hard that the status quo was terrified of it.

They could not control it.

They couldn't control (beep), basically.

The conspiracy was basically this-- "How dare you English speakers, you (beep), come in here with that music?"

In effect, it was a blacklist both in clubs and on the radio.

What really killed boogaloo was they had... they had that big hit by Johnny Colón, you know, "Boogaloo Blues," which was... you know, it was like the song of the '60s, you know?

And then they had "I Like It Like That," by Pete Rodriguez, they had "Bang Bang."

And then what did they have?

They didn't have any more hits.

That's what killed boogaloo.

There were three big hits.

I think, you know, to a certain extent, it ran its course, and even till today, there's a lot of people who remember and recognize it, and it made a big impression, but it kind of ran its course.

It was just a little bastardization of old Cuban music and mixed with a little rock and roll.

If you were gonna play Latin music, play Latin music, you know.

The first chance I had to get away from it, I did, and it died a horrible death.

(laughs) Boogaloo was gonna die out at some point, but, you know, was it kind of, perhaps, pushed out the door a little bit?

Yeah, I would buy that, too, I could see that.

(Lebron Bros' "Funky Blues" playing) ♪ Got to feel so bad I didn't know what to do ♪ COLON: Then you have the new migration.

Colombians coming in, you have Dominicans coming in, you have South and Central Americans, you have Mexicans coming in.

The one thing that's cohesive is salsa.

All the rhythms that were coming from Cuba and the Caribbean and Puerto Rico, they put them all under the word "salsa," which, commercially, it was okay, you know, to sell records, especially in new places like South America, because otherwise, they'd have to say, "This is a cha-cha, this is a son montuno, a guajira, mambo, rumba, conga," blah, blah, blah.

So they made it simple, the way they did in jazz.

"Oh, yeah, this is jazz"-- one word.

Fania became a force in terms of the salsa to be reckoned with, and although at the beginning, they were recording people like Joe Bataan, Ralphie Pagan, where they were making really, really big money afterwards was with the salsa.

(crowd cheering, Latin rhythm playing) ANNOUNCER: Ladies and gentlemen, here they are, the world's greatest Latin musicians, the Fania All-Stars, yeah!

Fania ends up taking over so many other labels and swallowing up, you know, Tico, Cotique, probably Allegre.

I mean, at this point, what label did Fania not buy out at some point?

You know, it gave them a lot of undue control over what styles could be recorded.

When you have that kind of monopolization, it tends to, I think, kind of narrow the spectrum of what comes out.

(Fania All Stars' "Mama Guela" plays) RAY: Masucci became like the Godfather.

He was a guy with vision, and he had a business mind to grow and really move up, and he really did a lot with the whole thing.

Latino people embraced, embraced the salsa movement.

They just said, "This is us!"

Fania very early learned that they could actually buy time on the radio stations.

So when they bought time, they were putting in the artists that they invested the most in.

And those were the salsa artists.

The purists took over.

And they brought back the tipica Latin sound, and they kept it that way.

I was disappointed, yeah.

I would have liked to see the boogaloo continue.

I felt sad, and a lot of people felt sad about it because we thought it was going to develop into something bigger and better, because the more the musicians played, the better they got.

The boogaloo was assassinated.

The boogaloo should have gone to the next most logical progression of the music, whatever that would have turned into.

And it didn't.

NARRATOR: Though some artists succeeded in making the transition from boogaloo to salsa, many eventually dropped out of the music business.

The Joe Cuba Sextet, his group stops recording by the early 1970s.

Pete Rodriguez, I mean, incredible force, one of the top three boogaloo bands of the era, by 1972 records his last album, disappears, I mean, no one knows what's happened to this guy for three decades now.

(piano playing softly) RODRIGUEZ: It's very, very flattering to know that people still remember me.

Probably a lot of them think I'm gone because it's been so long since they heard from me.

But, uh, I'm still here.

I didn't hang around much longer after the boogaloo.

I mean, I love the music, but I like to listen to it now.

I worked for a big pharmaceutical company.

I was a logistics manager for them.

And I retired after 30 years' service.

That's really, uh, my life now.

I spend it here with my wife and my kids and my grandchildren and my great-grandchildren.

In 1974, Richie Ray had an experience.

I had a spiritual awakening.

I'm a pastor of a church full-time.

I've been involved in starting a lot of churches.

I worked at Spofford Juvenile Center.

I was a juvenile counselor for 25 years.

I'm retired.

I became very good as a counselor and working with the kids.

I was able to exchange my stories and my lifestyle and the things that I went through that made a difference.

COLON: I started a music school called The East Harlem Music School.

I wanted to share that... that music, that feeling, the joy.

I loved it as much as playing.

Maybe it I loved it even more in a different way.

Right across the street.

We rented out the entire building.

From early in the morning, we would have training programs, kids coming after school, and we would have adults coming at night till 10:00 at night.

On Saturdays from 9:00 in the morning to 6:00 in the evening, this school was packed with kids.

We had a little kid that attended our music school, came from these houses.

He wanted to register, and he was seven.

So we said, "You can't register.

You gotta be eight."

He said, "Oh, couldn't I?"

I said, "No."

And he said, "Well, how about if I just hang around and watch you guys and help you out until I'm eight?"

I said, "That'll be okay."

His name is Marc Anthony.

And so he was one of our little music student kids who went on to be successful.

But he came from these houses, and we used to walk him when we closed the school down at 10:00 at night because they were little kids.

So we used to walk both he and his sister, my late wife and I, would walk them right here to the home and deliver them to mom.

So this is where he was from.

NARRATOR: In 1994, Tito Nieves, another of Colón's former students, scored a big hit with a cover of "I Like It Like That."

Like Nieves, many artists have found success with Latin-pop fusion, a style that originated with boogaloo.

In recent years, DJs seeking dance floor inspiration discovered the original Latin boogaloo recordings and shared them with a new generation of fans.

(King Nando's "Mama's Girl" plays) All right, so everybody was playing, like, funk and soul, and I was like, "All right, well, let me push it a little further and find some Latin funk."

That combination of New York, gritty, hardcore funk, you know, mixed with... with gorgeous, brilliant Latin music.

And the result is... is surefire, like, you can't miss.

CARLOS "TURMIX" VERA: Spanglish lyrics and American rhythms with Latin rhythms makes me crazy.

When I spin in parties and I play Latin boogaloo, everybody goes, "Wow, this is amazing."

Many people thinking, wow, this is from now?

No, no, this is from the '60s.

Once you start feeling those polyrhythms in your spirit, you start buggin' out like, yow!

I really think that a lot of the interest in boogaloo today would not exist if there hadn't been this intense interest by DJs beginning about, I'd say, maybe ten, 15 years ago.

I mean, really just in the last five to ten years, the amount of compilations and anthologies that have really looked at boogaloo music both in the U.S. and outside of it has... you can clearly see this incredible rise in the interest in it.

So it's gone from sort of being this very local kind of New York style to suddenly, you have boogaloo experts in Europe, you know, in Japan.

In the last ten years or so, the whole thing has opened up with Europe and the whole world, and we've traveled to a whole bunch of places.

And I'm amazed!

Like, I mean, I go to Germany, and this guy shows up, doesn't speak English or Spanish.

He only speaks German, and he's got a pile like that of LPs that he wanted me to sign 'em, you know?

And I'm like, oh, my God.

God has blessed me to start playing around the world.

I support my family, my grandkids.

And I'm just so gratified to be alive.

I never thought boogaloo would be back, and now I'm thrilled to death because I see...

I see Joe Bataan working all over the place.

I see the DJs playing boogaloo music.

I just got a call from Switzerland asking me to do an album of boogaloo music for a record company out there.

They feel it in London, they feel it in Australia.

They feel it in Japan.

You have just in the last few years new boogaloo bands being formed.

Like here in Los Angeles, you have the Boogaloo Assassins.

There's this group in New York called Spanglish Fly that's doing the same thing.

(Latin music playing) ♪ Stand up and boogaloo ♪ Stand up and boogaloo It's called Latin boogaloo, a rhythmic mix of R&B, soul, jazz, born in Spanish Harlem, and now this music is making a comeback big-time.

And look who's here with us today, two men credited with helping propel the Latin boogaloo sound during its start, Johnny Colón, your ordinary guy Joe Bataan.

To their right DJ Turmix.

To what do you credit the return of boogaloo music?

I think that, uh, it's probably that the... the boogaloo has always been around.

It never really went away.

TORRES: There's a big event that will be held this week in Central Park.

The three of you are together, right?

BATAAN: We're all three together-- it's history.

We expect the whole Barrio to come down.

(Johnny Colón's "Oyelo" plays) (singing in Spanish) How's everybody feeling out there tonight?

(cheers and applause) We got two serious, serious New York artists about to lay down some real New York music on this stage tonight.

There is nowhere I would rather be on this planet right now than right here in Central Park about to hear two legends of El Barrio.

Well, without further ado, let me turn it over to the pros.

Ladies and gentlemen, Johnny Colón and the Johnny Colón Orchestra.

(cheers and applause (playing "Boogaloo Blues") Come on now!

Oh, memories, huh?

Yeah, that was the groove.

Yeah, baby.

♪ I could remember that time ♪ When I thought the world was mine ♪ ♪ And as we played this same tune ♪ ♪ Which we called "The Boogaloo Blues" ♪ ♪ The crowd bursts out with cheers ♪ ♪ They said, yeah, this is weird ♪ ♪ All except that one girl ♪ Who cried and cried and, man, it was outta this world ♪ ♪ And I said baby, why do you feel so blue?

♪ ♪ Don't you like my boogaloo?

♪ And she said LSD's gotta hold on me ♪ And I said what?

♪ LSD's gotta hold on me But what you mean, girl?

♪ One, two, three, I feel so free ♪ ♪ One, two, three, I feel so free ♪ ♪ I'll give you the world ♪ Diamond rings ♪ Mink coats ♪ A penthouse ♪ And more ♪ All one love ♪ But just feel free ♪ Mmm, feel free ♪ Mm, you got to feel free ♪ Mm, feel free ♪ ...I feel so free (speaking Spanish) (screams) (screams) (audience screams) (screams) (audience screams) (screams) (audience screams) MAN: Let's hear it for Johnny Colón!

Keep moving, keep grooving.

DJ Turmix is gonna keep you guys steppin', and we're gonna set the stage for Joe Bataan.

(Latin piano music playing) Hey!

(indistinct conversations) This day is the day the Lord has made.

It's for all of us to come together.

Don't you see the magic that's here in this place today?

It's giving us a chance to come back and put it back on the map.

ESTEVES: Put a show together, man!

BATAAN: It's not too late.

So I say let's all put our hands together leave the past go, and let's move palante!

("Gypsy Woman" plays) ♪ She smokes, ha ha, she smokes, ha ha ♪ ♪ She smokes, ha ha, she smokes, ha ha ♪ ♪ She smokes, ha ha, she smokes, ha ha ♪ ♪ She smokes, ha ha, she smokes, ha ha ♪ ♪ She came from nowhere ♪ To watch this caravan ♪ Gypsy woman ♪ She came from sunlight to moonlight ♪ ♪ To see the gypsy in motion ♪ Gypsy woman ♪ With lips of red... ♪ With hips that sway in the night ♪ ♪ That paralyze me with love ♪ ♪ She was my gypsy woman ♪ Gypsy woman ♪ Was my gypsy woman ♪ Gypsy woman Ha, hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

♪ Gypsy woman ♪ Gypsy woman ♪ Gypsy woman... ♪ Gypsy woman ♪ Gypsy woman ♪ Gypsy woman ♪ Gypsy woman... ♪ Gypsy woman ♪ She dances around on the ground ♪ ♪ To a guitar melody ♪ And from the fire, her face was all aglow ♪ ♪ And, whoa, how she enchanted me ♪ ♪ And, whoa, how I long to hold her dear ♪ ♪ And whisper in her hear ♪ You are my gypsy woman ♪ Gypsy woman ♪ You are my gypsy woman ♪ Gypsy woman Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

♪ Gypsy woman ♪ Gypsy woman ♪ Gypsy woman... ♪ Gypsy woman ♪ Gypsy woman ♪ Gypsy woman ♪ Gypsy woman... ♪ Gypsy woman Here we go!

Are you ready?!

♪ I said party ♪ Party ♪ I said party ♪ Said party Come on, jump!

Jump!

Jump!

Jump!

Jump!

Jump!

Jump!

Jump!

Jump!

Jump!

Here we go!

Whoo!

Whoo!

Whoo!

♪ Gypsy woman ♪ Gypsy woman... ♪ Gypsy woman ♪ Gypsy woman... ♪ Gypsy woman ♪ Gypsy woman... ♪ Gypsy woman ♪ Gypsy woman... Say ba-ba-ba.

(song ends, cheers and applause) MARIN: I truly thought that when the boogaloo era ended, I would never hear it again.

FLORES: Good music will always be good music.

It will stand the test of time.

We travel all over the world, and we do our Latin concerts, our salsa concerts, okay?

But wherever we go, they always ask for our boogaloos.

At this point in my life, I don't think boogaloo will ever die.

GARCIA: Whether you liked it or not, you have to give it its blessing in time because it raised the bar for what was gonna be known as Latin music.

In order for us to emerge in the future whole, consistent, healthy, we have to develop new forms.

Latin boogaloo is that new form that allowed me to be who I am today.

A total being.

(Ray Barretto's "New York Soul" plays) Wow!

Good God!

New York Soul, y'all!

To learn more about "America ReFramed," the stories and issues we present, visit our website at WorldChannel.org.

I'm Natasha Del Toro.

Thanks, and see you next time.

♪ Right from the New York Street ♪ ♪ Yeah, yeah ( grunting ) Good God!

Wow!

Come on!

MAN: Ray, que pasa, baby?