The late Armando Manzanero was a colleague of mine when I lived in Mexico City in 1967. Following is an extract from my memoir, “Manzanero, Mexico, My Dear Old San Juan, Moi”:
In 1967, I was transferred from the Berlitz School of Languages in Puerto Rico to that international language school’s equal number in Mexico City. The next day after my arrival in Mexico City, I made my way to the huge, Palacio de Hierro department store, to pick up things I needed. As I was on my way to the exit door, most improbably, I heard my name being called: “COOR-tees!” It was Lupillo Hernández from Tijuana, sitting at the soda fountain with members of, Los Tijuana Five. “What the...” was the only thing that occurred to me. We had not seen or heard from each other since I had left Tijuana, about two years previously. The odds of us meeting there, at that time were absolutely spooky! They were in Mexico for a gig, and were just hanging out when they spotted me. They were just as floored as I was at the improbability. After I had recounted to them my post-Tijuana roaming trail, I asked if they knew the best way to get involved in music in Mexico City. Amazingly, they knew of this little club where a lot of show folk went to network. It surprised me, later, that those guys would know of the place. The people I found there were of a different musical genre and social disposition than those incipient rock ‘n’ rollers. I thanked them for their input and we said our goodbyes.
That very night, I found my way to a little club; it was not the type of place one would stumble into off the street. I do not remember what it was called; it was off Insurgentes south, in the neighborhood of Los Globos and La Fuente, the former a huge dance hall and the latter the most elegant nightclub in Mexico. It was natural that this little, showbiz hangout would be in that vicinity.
I was greeted at the door by an affable host I later discover to be Carlos Lico who, in a very few weeks would be a star all over the Spanish-speaking world. This would come about after he recorded an Armando Manzanero song entitled, “No”. Carlos Lico (as if by a hidden hand) shortly was to introduce me to Manzanero, who himself would capture that same world.
When Carlos Lico learned that my specialty was devising other-language versions of song lyrics, he said a frequent visitor to the club was in need of me. On a later visit, I was introduced to Armando Manzanero, who invited me to collaborate with him at the RCA Victor recording studios.
MANZANERO CONNECTION
Following is an extract from my memoir, “Manzanero, Mexico, My Dear Old San Juan, Moi”:
In 1967, I was transferred from the Berlitz School of Languages in Puerto Rico to that international language school’s equal number in Mexico City. The next day after my arrival in Mexico City, I made my way to the huge, Palacio de Hierro department store, to pick up things I needed. As I was on my way to the exit door, most improbably, I heard my name being called: “COOR-tees!” It was Lupillo Hernández from Tijuana, sitting at the soda fountain with members of, Los Tijuana Five. “What the...” was the only thing that occurred to me. We had not seen or heard from each other since I had left Tijuana, about two years previously. The odds of us meeting there, at that time were absolutely spooky! They were in Mexico for a gig, and were just hanging out when they spotted me. They were just as floored as I was at the improbability. After I had recounted to them my post-Tijuana roaming trail, I asked if they knew the best way to get involved in music in Mexico City. Amazingly, they knew of this little club where a lot of show folk went to network. It surprised me, later, that those guys would know of the place. The people I found there were of a different musical genre and social disposition than those incipient rock ‘n’ rollers. I thanked them for their input and we said our goodbyes.
That very night, I found my way to a little club; it was not the type of place one would stumble into off the street. I do not remember what it was called; it was off Insurgentes south, in the neighborhood of Los Globos and La Fuente, the former a huge dance hall and the latter the most elegant nightclub in Mexico. It was natural that this little, showbiz hangout would be in that vicinity.
I was greeted at the door by an affable host I later discover to be Carlos Lico who, in a very few weeks would be a star all over the Spanish-speaking world. This would come about after he recorded an Armando Manzanero song entitled, “No”. Carlos Lico (as if by a hidden hand) shortly was to introduce me to Manzanero, who himself would capture that same world.
When Carlos Lico learned that my specialty was devising other-language versions of song lyrics, he said a frequent visitor to the club was in need of me. On a later visit, I was introduced to Armando Manzanero, who invited me to collaborate with him at the RCA Victor recording studios.
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