He Heard Out the Critics, but Then Went His Own Way

The music coming out of Ruben Blades’ boombox brings memories of the good old days of salsa.

The majestic trombone section and rootsy vocal line transport you back to the late ‘70s, when he made a string of hit albums for New York’s Fania label and changed the face of Latin music by combining the smoldering spice of salsa with provocative, socially aware lyrics. But what he’s playing now in the kitchen of his rented Hancock Park house is no oldie.

This remarkable song, “Estampa,” is the opening track of Blades’ yet unfinished album, which he hopes to release early next year.

The singer, Hollywood actor and former presidential candidate in his native Panama looks at you with a grin and says in a rather mischievous tone: “This is for people like you to stop complaining.”

The friendly jab is indeed directed at those who respect his recent efforts but hoped the musician would return to his days of straight-ahead salsa. That’s when he recorded a seemingly endless series of classic songs, from the anthem-ish “Pedro Navaja” in 1978 to the magical realism of “Ojos de Perro Azul” nine years later.

Critical opinion is sharply divided when it comes to Blades’ last two albums: 1996’s “La Rosa de los Vientos,” recorded with Panamanian musicians, and 1999’s “Tiempos,” done with the Costa Rican group Editus.

Some praise him for a bold attempt to create a new lexicon of Latin pop by writing airy melodies combining a variety of folkloric idioms in a more atmospheric vein. Both albums, by the way, won Grammys in the Latin categories.

Others argue that the abstract, exploratory nature of the albums diluted the intensity in his style. There’s nothing wrong with the new music, they’ll tell you, but the genre is in desperate need of artists such as Blades to revitalize it.

The constant reproach from the betrayed salsa fans must have struck a chord with Blades, leading him to the partial return to the old style in the upcoming album. “The salsero who listens to this [track] is going to love it,” Blades, 53, says. “But then he’ll listen to the second song and walk out of the room,” he adds with a laugh. “He’ll see that I’m not about to do ‘Pedro Navaja’ all over again. I already did that.”

Indeed, the Fania sound is only one of a dizzying variety of styles Blades has employed in the new recording.

But even his critics are likely to agree that he’s really into something this time around. Less abstract than its predecessors, the new music shapes up as Blades’ best work in a decade. By increasing the non-Latino influences and incorporating the sound of bagpipes, African drums and traditional Indian music into the mix, he has created an intriguing, pan-global experience that overflows with moments of rare beauty.

On the other hand, his lyrics haven’t changed. They continue to look at life with a poetic combination of nostalgia and hope, and, through vivid stories of everyday life in Latin America, urge his listeners to reject hypocrisy and be accountable for their actions.

Together with Cuba’s Silvio Rodriguez and Spain’s Joan Manuel Serrat, Blades is the most mature writer of lyrics currently working within the rich tradition of the Spanish language. And, after decades of making music, Blades is still excited about the process.

As the boombox plays more new tunes, he follows the beat of the clave with his hands and does some pretty convincing air-guitar solos before singing along passionately with the instrumental tracks.

It’s a fascinating scene. Unlike a concert, where you are offered an artist’s polished oeuvre distilled into a few hours, this is a glimpse into the mysterious energy of the creative process, complete with its rough spots, bursts of spontaneous laughter, moments of doubt and the immense satisfaction generated when you successfully combine words and melody.

Even though the liberal switching of genres might sound jarring on paper, the songs segue into one another effortlessly. The record functions as an odyssey of sorts. The idea of a musical trip is enhanced by the inclusion of songs by other artists.

Joined by Editus (a band he has now adopted as his touring group) and Brazilian vocal ensemble Boca Livre, Blades tackles the old classic “Danny Boy,” Gilberto Gil’s seductive “Oriente,” as well as the title song from Pat Metheny’s “First Circle,” the album in which the American guitarist discovered the percolating beauty of Latin American rhythms. “It’s the opening of the circle,” he explains when his version of the tune begins to play. “When we reach the end of the record, the circle is completed.”

The closing of his own circle might include a more obvious return to the past. He is seriously considering two projects, one resurrecting his ‘80s salsa group Seis del Solar, and a big-band tribute to Afro-Cuban music’s golden era.

For now, however, he continues to enjoy his eclectic musical quest. His records are released by Sony, but Blades doesn’t depend on his record income for a living.

Instead, he finances his creative freedom through a variety of acting roles, including one on the recently canceled ABC series “Gideon’s Crossing,” He just spent a few days in Mexico shooting a small part for “Once Upon a Time in Mexico,” the new film by director Robert Rodriguez.

“I don’t feel comfortable about competing with my own successful past,” he says. “You can rest on your own laurels, or you can continue to experiment because that’s what you like to do. I’ve decided that I’m going to do what I please, and I’m willing to face the consequences of that decision.

“Besides, I need to do this fusion of styles right now,” he concludes. “If I don’t, nobody else will.”