Pablo Yglesias

Just call me Bongohead, said Pablo when I asked him what I should call him. I had to agree. You don’t argue with a Bongohead.

Pablo is the type of collector you hope to see at your local record store. Friendly, knowledgeable, and he won’t throw you to the ground for an underpriced rare LP, even if he was dreaming about it the night before. After inheriting most of his father’s collection, Pablo never stopped digging in Latin, jazz, and R&B bins, “My transition from listening to collecting was really early, subtle, and whatnot, so it was so natural I never really noticed the change.”

As a music nut and digging enthusiast, you may be surprised Pablo’s not afraid of the digital revolution—it fends off the vinyl posers. For him, it’s about having fun and finding LPs with cool art and better beats; isn’t that what collecting is all about?!

If you girls and boys are into Latin music, this one’s for you!!

Dale, Dale!! Disfrute el sabor!!!!!

“This is my CD room, under the stairs. Yes, I have too many CDs. Some complain about CDs, how they are little and sound bad. But what about one of those mad Japanese paper sleeve jobs, where they recreate the original album exactly but in miniature, and the sound is great? My favorites are the reproductions of the Hipgnosis covers for Led Zeppelin.”

What was your first album? How did you get it? At what age? Can you describe that feeling? Do you still have it?

I would have to say The Beatles’ Revolver. My first records were gifts from my mom. But the first record I chose was one I stole from someone. I “borrowed” it and never returned it; I forget if it was from my parents, a friend’s older sibling, or a babysitter. I was six, so I guess it was around 1970. I used to love putting it on my little portable record player, dancing to it, or looking at the amazing cover art and trying to imagine the Beatles coming to play right there in front of me. 

The first record I bought with my money was probably a 45 by KC and The Sunshine Band or Sly and The Family Stone’s Greatest Hits. I was into funky music as well as rock! I also used to take my dad’s 8 track tapes to listen to in my room, especially the first two Santana albums and this Ravi Shankar live album from California. The morning raga was great for Sunday in the am!

“What prompted me to do it was that I loved having material examples of my interests. I could come back to them repeatedly to play with them and later to study them, from rocks to toy cars.”

Libre – Con Salsa…Con Ritmo, Vol. 1. “Cosmic salsa album cover for Libre, one of the best bands of the ‘70s-80s. By unsung genius Walter Velez, ex-design partner of Izzy Sanabria. Andy González and Manny Oquendo is the perfect combination.”

Desi Arnaz And His Orchestra – Babalu’ And Seven Other Favorites. “A great one-dollar flea market find, Mr. Desi Arnaz, the Latino Elvis. People used to mistake my dad for him; he once got a free cab ride from a guy who refused to believe my pops wasn’t Ricky Ricardo. Sad to say, the real Mr. Babalú, Miguelito Valdés, is not so well known in the Anglo world ‘cos he never had a sitcom with Lucille Ball.”

Orquesta Folklorica Nacional de Cuba – Festival Del Danzon. “One of the classic 10-inch records my dad smuggled from Cuba on that fabled New Year’s airplane ride. Note the racist kitsch illustration, but it does point to the Afro-Cuban origins of the danzón and cha-cha-cha.”

Pablo trying to find an LP he wanted to show off.

“My obsession with collecting came mainly from my dad. He had a huge book, record, and curious object collection from as long ago as I can remember. The only thing he took with him from Cuba when he fled Castro’s revolution was a suitcase of his most beloved records!”

What prompted you to start collecting? What age did you start? Was there a specific event in your life, an era, that signifies your transition from a music lover to a collector?

Well, it was interesting. I have always been into collecting things from as far back as I can remember. What prompted me to do it was that I loved having material examples of my interests. I could come back to them repeatedly to play with them and later to study them, from rocks to toy cars. I used to collect shells in all the Caribbean places we stayed. Or leaves and rocks from the forest in Vermont at the commune where I stayed for a while—finding stuff like geodes and cactus branches from the desert in Arizona.

In the city with my mom, it was little treasures I’d find in the trash in the alleyway behind our apartment, like bottle caps, or I’d maybe stuff my pockets with junk I collected from the muddy bottom of the ponds drained in the Boston Gardens (a park) in October. You never knew when you might need some string or a tampon applicator—it was all free and fascinating. Plus, I liked the exotic or faraway places conjured up by my cocktail “swizzle sticks” or postcard collection worldwide. I used to take those cards out of a shoe box and re-read the ones from my dad’s travels. 

Later, as an older kid, when I had earned some money, it was stamps, coins, marbles, even military insignia (patches, medals), ordinance (spent shell casings and grenades), and war memorabilia—that was until I became anti-war in my teens. 

What boy is without comics? It all started when I was in Mexico as a little kid. The comics there were muy loco! Of course, the American comics turned me on too (Marvel, Westerns, and horror stories were my favorite), plus Mad Magazine, Heavy Metal, Fangoria and Monster mags, baseball cards, and the old “girly” centerfolds by the Peruvian graphic artist “Varga” (Antonio Vargas) that I’d cut from the Esquire magazines of the ‘40s and ‘50s. I loved those perfect pinup girls! 

My obsession with collecting came mainly from my dad. He had a huge book, record, and curious object collection from as long ago as I can remember. The only thing he took with him from Cuba when he fled Castro’s revolution was a suitcase of his most beloved records! 

In addition, my dad used to take me on these “antiquing” trips in New Hampshire in the ‘70s, where we’d spend all Sunday poking around at auctions, antique fairs, and junk stores. Plus, I used to go to the big flea markets they held in Boston at the Cyclorama. At the same time, I got into playing records, mostly 45s, at school for kids when I was 8 or 9. I found the girls liked me better because they liked to dance to my records, and the boys thought it was cool to “lip sync” along to The Jackson 5 or the Rolling Stones. I also was into actually playing music and singing. I took piano so I could someday play the church organ, not for religious or classical music, but so I could play creepy horror movie music like from Dracula or Frankenstein!! 

I guess I really got serious in high school because that’s when I’d start making mix tapes for our dances. My dad was always around musicians, my mom loved music, and she and I always listened to the radio. So I guess my transition from listening to collecting was really early, subtle, and whatnot, so it was so natural I never really noticed the change.

“And the common denominator and basis of hip-hop? Africa. As this classic pre-revolution folkloric rumba record attests, Cuba has Africa right in its backyards and alleyways.”

Ray Barretto – Que Viva La Musica. “Barretto was a real intellectual man and a spiritual drummer, and Izzy and Walter did a great cover here, presenting him as a leader the barrio could believe in. Their theme for Ray was powerful! Ironically enough, Ray rejected this role and told me in his grumpy, gruff way that he never really liked playing the “cuchi-frito” circuit (Latin dance music venues). He always maintained that his salsa album covers sucked because, in his opinion, they cheapened the music.”

“Dealing with vinyl records is so labor intensive; it’s not for just anyone; playing, caring for, and collecting vinyl is a holistic pursuit because you are a very active part of the process; you have to interact with the medium, and you have to care.”

The Original Last Poets – Right On!. “Latinos were right there at the dawn of hip-hop and rap—two fine examples.”

Grupo Folklorico De Alberto Zayas & El Vive Bien – El Vive Bien Con El Grupo Folklorico De Alberto Zayas. “And the common denominator and basis of hip-hop? Africa. As this classic pre-revolution folkloric rumba record attests, Cuba has Africa right in its backyards and alleyways.”

“I am not so much into the minutia that geeks or nerds get off on, but I will go for an original pressing if it sounds better or has a more dope cover.”

Why vinyl?

It’s what I grew up with. It’s the ritual of playing records, collecting records, and discovering treasure hidden in the grooves. Dealing with vinyl records is so labor intensive; it’s not for just anyone; playing, caring for, and collecting vinyl is a holistic pursuit because you are a very active part of the process; you have to interact with the medium, and you have to care. I dig the participation in vinyl, you know? As for the record as an “object” instead of downloading and storing a digital file, vinyl is attractive to me because of its size, object-ness, and many parts. Also, I am a graphic designer, so of course, the cover art makes me high. 

Yes, it’s great that CDs have shrunk down how much space music storage takes up. Double yes, it’s great that the digital revolution has made it even smaller and taken the emphasis off our obsession with rarity, collecting, and objects in general, but hell, call me old fashioned; I love vinyl all the same, and the evils of capitalistic materialism be damned!

Are you following any specific genre when you collect? Or perhaps fixed on a specific album cover artists? Or maybe pressing years? Or maybe it’s just the music, no matter what.

Depends. Sometimes, I collect only what I am currently working on (like something for a specific book, article, exhibit, radio show, live club gig, or compilation), or sometimes, something will grab me, and I go for it even if I wasn’t looking for it. I was into collecting a specific label or graphic designer for a while. Covers are always crucial to me for art; sometimes I buy a record because it has not been released on CD, so it’s the only way to hear the thing! But it’s always an economic concern; my wallet bounds my choices of necessity. I can’t afford a lot of stuff outside my immediate music/record-collecting needs, so I tend to forgo buying vinyl I might have bought if I were rich or something! I am not so much into the minutia that geeks or nerds get off on, but I will go for an original pressing if it sounds better or has a more dope cover.

“Let the vinyl heads do their thing; the digital media mavens do theirs, man! I’m a little of both.”

What’s your digging habit in these digital days? Do you go out to dig in basements and fleas, or are you an eBay expert? Have things changed for you since the web days?

Sometimes, I do go out physically and dig. I always love record shops, flea markets, record fairs, etc., but more often these days, I don’t have the time, and when I am looking for something specific for a job and I need it right away, I go online and get it. Not just eBay, though; I also have dealer friends and stores I regularly go to. I really hate dealing with other collectors at record fairs because they can often be nasty, pushy, inbred geeky types that are a big turn-off. They are always jostling me out of the way or spouting on and on about rare Lithuanian pressings and special serial numbers. I hate the pressure of flipping through stuff at the same time as someone who is also looking for the same stuff as me, especially one of these desperate Latin music collector/DJ dudes who just flew in from Japan or Colombia with a wad of cash burning a hole in his pocket!! I do like seeing women collectors/DJs digging through the dusty crates, though; that’s kind of a turn-on because it’s so rare.

In a world of endless musical sources, streaming music, MP3s, Serato, and other digital substances, do you sometimes stop and ask yourself, “What for???”

Not really. It’s ok; I like the easy access, democratization, and de-materialism the digital age has brought. It’s great that musicians can now sell their stuff directly to the consumer through the web. Of course, piracy is evil, but that, in turn, makes bands want to perform live more to make money to compensate for losses in product revenue. 

I hate the sound quality of digital, particularly the old MP3s, but it’s gotten better, and people can download and store bigger files, so you can actually have AIFFs and WAVs being sold, not just MP3s. Let the vinyl heads do their thing; the digital media mavens do theirs, man! I’m a little of both.

Various – Funky Funky New Orleans. “Well, I guess a little chest-beating is ok; this is one of my early covers for Tuff City. The graphics are kind of lame–I didn’t know shit about no graphics programs at the time–but I like the drum sculpture I did for it anyways. The tom-toms are coffee cans covered with Korean plastic beads arranged in colors that depict the different deities of orisha and vodun worship. I love you, funky old New Orleans, new world crossroads!”

Tito Puente And His Orchestra – Y Parece Bobo. “A prime example of Izzy Sanabria’s humorous early work that owed a debt to Playboy magazine’s big-breasted cartoon aesthetic. It’s an amazing record, musically speaking. Al Santiago, the eccentric founder of Alegre Records, was Latin music’s first home-grown Nuyorican record producer genius.”

Mongo Santamaria – Drums And Chants (Authentic Afro-Cuban Rhythms). “Yo, they don’t call me Bongohead for nuthin’! What’s funny about this particular recording is that it was re-issued about five or six times, each time with a different cover, depending on the era it was re-released in. I can only say that Mongo’s recording must have been something special for it to be reissued so many times! This is probably cashing in on the early 60s popularity of Olatunji and the Afro-centrism promoted by jazz artists. I will have all the versions in my sweaty little hands someday.”

“But what do I look for? Something interesting, something I have not seen or heard, music that pushes the envelope, familiar yet different. And to be honest, sometimes I look for a record because I’ve seen it in someone else’s collection or read about it somewhere!”

How do you organize your collection?

Pretty poorly because I am always taking out records for gigs or studying, so the categories are vague, I have boxes of records that are part of projects or are ready to go to gigs, etc. 

My Latin is alphabetically organized by letter, but it’s messy and random within each letter, unlike my uncle Jorge, who used to number and catalog his records. He spent all this time doing that, organizing them with extra care, then when he had an ugly divorce, his ex just threw them all in piles, stacked on top of each other, and it was an absolute horror show. All that preservation and cataloging for nothing, man, gone in a “poof” of vengeance from his old lady. 

Why agonize too much over the objects when it’s your life and your family’s life that matters most? I learned that when an arson burned my friend Glenn’s house practically down to the ground. One minute, everything was fine; the next minute, there was smoke and flames, and they lost all their stuff. He had a huge music collection in his capacity as a long-time radio and concert booking guy, and it got all messed up, but thank the gods, he and his family escaped with their lives. 

Tell me a useful record storage/shelving tip!

I use cardboard inserts to separate sections and protect records at my stacks’ ends. The cardboard inserts come from the mailing packages I get when I order records–they are the perfect size and are nice and clean. I also remove the record and store it on the back of the cover to avoid ring wear whenever possible. Who said I wasn’t anal-retentive when it comes to records?

What do you look for in a record?

Sometimes, it’s the genre or artist, or sometimes, it’s a particular version. Usually, the thing I worry about most is the cover condition. But what do I look for? Something interesting, something I have not seen or heard, music that pushes the envelope, familiar yet different. And to be honest, sometimes I look for a record because I’ve seen it in someone else’s collection or read about it somewhere! You know when you learn about some cool new album from someone, and you just have to have it, too, even if you have not heard it?

What’s your partner’s reaction to this obsession?

Yikes. I think she’s very tolerant because she knows how much it means to me and because it’s part of my career, but she also probably thinks I am nuts and not good with my money. She is the one who showed me the way when she insisted I set up an office in our guest room and allowed me to move a mess of my most important records from the garage to the home office! 

She also encouraged me to go to Ikea and get some proper records and CD storage furniture so it wouldn’t look messy and I could easily access stuff for projects I was working on. Bless that woman; she is a pillar of tolerance and my inspiration. Honey, if you are reading this, hopefully, you will not mind the latest batch of vinyl purchases now that I buttered you up! It’s a sickness, really.

Joe Cain & His Orchestra – Latin Explosion. “Joe Cain was a beautiful man. Fabulous Italian-American arranger and producer with incredible taste. His bolero arrangements for La Lupe and Vicentico Valdés bring me tears. He was a real joy to hang with and a behind-the-scenes man who could tell stories about the crazy Latino/musicians and singers he worked with. This is a bad proto-boogaloo record, too, featuring my hero, Cachao! A case of a kind of silly cliché cover hiding deep music inside.”

Eddie Palmieri – Superimposition. “Eddie Palmieri is one of our most gifted musicians and a true artist. He had a special relationship with album cover graphic designer Ely Besalel, and I think they really connected for a while in the ‘60s. It shows on records like this one.”

Pete Conde – Este Negro Si Es Sabroso. “Pete ‘El Conde’ Rodríguez is one of my favorite vocalists from the Fania era. He was black pride personified, and aside from the Spanish title, this could be a record cover from any of the conscious R&B artists of the same era. And that’s what we can’t forget, that even though Nuyorican salsa is a Latino form, it evolved not in the Caribbean or South America, but here, in the U.S.A., right next to the Black Panthers, Sidney Poitier, Harry Belafonte, Rosa Parks, Stevie Wonder, and Earth Wind and Fire.”

Machito – Afro-Cuban Jazz – The Music Of Chico O´Farrill. “This cover by David Stone Martin says it all in modern Latin music, especially mambo and Latin Jazz. Ecstatic, trance-inducing dance music from Cuba, translated and re-born in New York, for red-blooded people of all stripes and hues forged from the new world union of black and white.”

Kent Gomez And His Orchestra – My Ghetto. Bongo chilling with one Kent Gomez.

“Take your time, I always say; you might miss something that’s right in front of you. Look for the stuff you want, but keep an eye open for something new that might be worth taking a chance on.”

Name some golden grails from your collection history.

The vinyl I consider the holy golden grail would be New Orleans music. The Meters, Allen Toussaint, Lee Dorsey, Dr. John, Eddie Bo, Wild Magnolias, Wild Tchoupitoulas—this is what I can turn to for inspiration again and again, and it has so many other kinds of music wrapped up in it. Of course, any late 60s/early ’70s James Brown records are all great and have many things happening. Anything that man touched was golden and nasty. But you have to get some of the CDs for the rarities, sad to say.

Do you have a record-collecting philosophy or routine when you enter a store?

Take your time, I always say; you might miss something that’s right in front of you. Look for the stuff you want, but keep an eye open for something new that might be worth taking a chance on. Ask the owner if they have something special behind the counter or in the back. Don’t pay crazy prices, though–you can often negotiate or find it later for cheap.

Out of your great collection, there must be a few records you like returning to at any time. Name a few. What makes them so special for you?

I always go back to the basics because they fill me with nostalgia, and I can always learn something new from them. Early funk and soul, classic Cuban, first-generation reggae and punk, Ska (first and second generation), second-generation hip-hop (always love hearing the first Jungle Brothers, for instance), Chicano/Tejano, and Afro-Pop from the ‘70s/‘80s like Fela or Orchestra Baobab. 

Key slabs of vinyl for me that I purchased back in the day and still turn to regularly for healing and entertainment: The Clash’s London Calling, the first Funkadelic record, Bob Marley’s Kaya, Hendrix’s Are You Experienced, early albums by Arthur Lee’s Love, The Rolling Stones’ Aftermath, any of Cachao’s descarga records on Maype or Panart. 

Plus, Musicalidad En Sepia, Arsenio Rodriguez & The Afro-Cubano Sound’s Viva Arsenio!. For jazz, I love to play Randy Weston and Archie Shepp records. I still cherish some classic boogaloo jams I purchased in the ‘80s, like Joe Cuba, Joe Bataan, and Eddie Palmieri’s Harlem River Drive—these are the building blocks of my musical consciousness.

I know that every “your favorite” question is a tough one, but try to remember. Can you name a few of your favorite album covers?

The Latin ones are all in my book, especially those by Izzy Sanabria, Charlie Rosario, Ron Levine, and Ely Besalel. For non-Latin, I think I love Fela’s record covers the most, especially those designed by Lemi and anything by Pedro Bell. There are also various ‘70s covers by Tony Wright and Neville Garrick. And you can’t forget the classic Blue Notes. Regarding the illustration, it would have to be a toss-up between Jim Flora and David Stone Martin, who used to be my dad’s neighbor. What an artist he was. Going back to the beginning, you got to praise the grand-daddy of them all, Alex Steinweiss. 

Did you have any covers that scared you as a child?

Dude, I think the Sex Pistols’ “God Save the Queen” freaked me out when it first came out, even though I was a teenager. The whole ransom note thing and the concept of their name are scary! I was also a bit freaked by some of the psychedelic covers I saw among the hippies at the commune, but mostly, I liked them all, as far as I can recall.

Dirtiest, sexiest, filthiest album cover you know or own?

A ‘70s compilation from Venezuela with a rude, nude lady that I can’t describe in detail, but I can say this: it’s nas-tay. Some of those Latin covers are without shame, like Spinal Tap south of the border.

It’s hard not to smile in his own personal venue of vinyl.

Name a bad album cover that hides great music inside.

Most Discos Fuentes covers! All merengue covers! Most heavy metal covers! Some Bobby Valentin records. The White Album.

Is there a specific musical instrument that attracts you when listening to music?

Hand percussion, trombone, harpsichord, Cuban tres guitar, zither, cimbalom, organ, Tuvan throat singing and yodeling.

Tell me about a dollar bin record you would never part with!

I got the first three Meters albums (on the Josie label) for $2 from these homeless Brazilian brothers down on Canal Street in Manhattan back when there used to be a flea market in Church St. Those were the days, before hip-hop drove up the prices for funky beats! There were only two jackets; the third record was stuffed inside the second jacket. Still looking for an empty third cover!

Have you ever kept a particular purchase secret from your partner?

Most of them. Shhh, don’t tell. I just slowly integrate them into the general pool, ya know?

What about digging buddies? Do you share, or do you go solo?

I have a few digger friends, but sometimes looking for goodies in tandem gets a bit tense. Anyway, it’s really a solo kind of activity. I will go to a store or fair with a friend who is also into collecting, but we usually split up to dig separately. The fun thing is sitting down for a minute after the mad rush and checking out each other’s scores! I like to trade, too, and vinyl buddies are good for that. Plus, I like listening sessions, which usually involve music collector pals. 

Tell me about the most unlikely place/occasion where/when you found records.

In an abandoned burned-out car in a junkyard. In an ancient Mayan temple. In the stomach of a shark, I caught off the island of Trinidad. Buried in an Alaskan glacier! Only one of these scenarios actually happened, but hope springs eternal.

Tell me about a closed-down record store/flea market you will grieve all your life!

There are so many in NYC and London. Pyramid in Chelsea (NYC) was one of them. But they are vanishing all over! Even here in town, our very own Dynamite Records.

Tell me a particularly sad record story!

Definitely getting a rare record sent to you, opening the package, and finding the record shattered into many pieces. That happened with a Noro Morales 10-inch on Tico. 

Tell me about a record that’s too weird to believe, even for a die-hard record fiend.

Afrosound’s Sugar Ice Tea. Any early Residents record. Stuff by the band Chrome. Teddy Fire.

Tell me about a record that has healed heartbreaks! Name one that made them worse!

A Bauhaus 12-inch called “Bela Lugosi’s Dead”–it’s so dark and morose it made my romantic woes seem petty by comparison at the time. By the same token, other depressing but beautiful English music by Nick Drake made my heart hurt even more, so it was a mistake to put it on the decks when I was bummin’ over a relationship.

How often do you have dreams/nightmares about records or digging? Could you tell me a particularly funny/interesting/weird one?

I never dream about finding records, though I do dream about songs that don’t exist and hanging out with musicians I respect but probably would never meet in real life! Nightmares about spending too much money on music, to be sure. Ulcers!

“You can tell how well-loved a record is because it bears all the marks of partying in its grooves and on its jacket, wear and tear from repeated listenings, showing like the stigmata on a saint’s body.”

Jazz At The Philharmonic – Norman Granz’ Jazz At The Philharmonic – Vol. 12. “I learned a lot from my father’s collection about art and music and popular culture’s presentation through mass media. He knew this would send me off on my way early on, so he consciously exposed me to this. As a matter of fact, my dad was my first crate-digging buddy! We spent hours and hours looking through records in Providence, R.I., when I was in college. This particular volume is a wonderful example of the kind of paste-up graphic design that these artists could pull off with amazing creativity on shoe-string budgets long before the computer.”

Tito Puente And His Orchestra – The King Tito Puente. “Painter, graphic artist, and sculptor Charlie Rosario is a hero of mine. He’s a pure artist, a total artiste, living by his obsession with being creative every day, even though he’s going blind, fighting for recognition, and caring for his aging mom. This is an album he did for Tito Puente in the ‘60s. In the background are some of Charlie’s Puerto Rican-themed paintings that I cherish.”

“I have no regrets. If I didn’t pick it up, either it wasn’t meant for me, or I’ll find it again sometime, or it will find me if it is destined to. Someone else will be touched by it, and that’s nice.”

Taj Mahal – Mo’ Roots. “This copy is personified as ringwear. You can tell how well-loved a record is because it bears all the marks of partying in its grooves and on its jacket, wear and tear from repeated listenings, showing like the stigmata on a saint’s body. Taj is a giant man from a city near Springfield, MA. He had a big influence on me as a kid when he came by the farm and played all night, conjuring up his ancestors with blues jams, scorching soul, and Caribbean shanties.”

“Having records around is like possessing an art collection–enjoy it on your own level, but don’t forget to share it. Don’t be greedy like a banker; just let the public enjoy it the way you do.”