Few "civilians" have seen the inside of La Cumbia Lounge, Michael Ramos' Lake Austin studio and the incubator for his two spectacular Charanga Cakewalk albums. The way Ramos fearlessly bends music traditions, one might expect La Cumbia Lounge to resemble a mad scientist's lab – a cross between a wacky Mexican restaurant and an itinerant musician's landfill.
Except for a framed Jesus on the Cross image emanating twirling strands of jelly-colored light when plugged in, La Cumbia Lounge is tranquil, austere even. The exposed beams in the A-frame building, the celestial-colored walls, and the way the mixing console sits regally at the far end of the room opposite the French-doored entrance make it feel as if you've walked into church. Not one of those thickly gilded cathedrals, but a modest church where you can hear God in the silence.
A window near the point of the ceiling, above the AC unit, allows sunlight to illuminate the business-side of the board, three computer monitors, and various electronic devices. Belying their strength, a bundle of color-coded flash drives are splayed like a set of lost keys near a hub, the electronic gateway for the assembled technology to talk to each other. Facing the landscape of technology is an ample, coffee-brown leather couch, just beneath the humming AC. It's a relaxing place to take it all in.
The only thing more placid than the space itself is Chulo, Ramos' aging boxer. That is, until you look into Chulo's eyes. They brim with a disarming sadness that seems to ask, "Are you going to take him away again?" Chulo's presumed suspicion is reasonable. As the touring keyboardist for Los Lonely Boys, Ramos has been on the road for long stretches. While the gig is great, it's also a challenge. His fiancée Quen joins him when possible, but it's hard on Chulo, and hard on Ramos to be away from La Cumbia Lounge, the place he assembled after he decided to strike out on his own.
"I really didn't feel like I had a choice," he says. "I had to jump off the cliff in order to grow as a musician."
Jumping off the cliff meant setting up La Cumbia Lounge. There, he immersed himself for a couple of months tinkering, making wrong turns, and finally synthesizing his musical inheritance into glorious sound. Besides the mixing console and computer equipment, La Cumbia Lounge has several vintage keyboards, synthesizers, percussive instruments, and most recently a lap steel guitar.
"I really don't know how to play it, but if I play with it long enough, I know at least one song will come out of it."
A gelatin-red Baldoni accordion sits on the floor between a vintage Midi board and an electric keyboard, the lean legs of their stands calmly crossed, guarding the squat Baldoni. Maybe it's because a civilian is passing through, but there's not a dust-cover in sight. Every instrument seems poised, adding to the impression that this is a place ready for something to happen. In church, one hopes for a flash of clarity, a moment of peace, a burden lifted. In La Cumbia Lounge, there's the strong sense that if a musician brings all he has to offer, the instruments, the technology, and maybe even the kitschy electric Jesus on the Cross image will bring it all too. Trust your ear. If it doesn't sound right the first time, be patient. Try again. Don't sneer at the technology. Ramos doesn't care for the self-righteous idea that technology creates less-authentic music.
"It's just another instrument to me," he says.
Fortunately, technology has become so portable, it allows Ramos to listen to music and capture ideas on the road, so that when he returns home he has something to offer La Cumbia Lounge and see what can be made of it.
It's too early to talk about the next Charanga Cakewalk album. Ideas are brewing, but only the walls of La Cumbia Lounge hold in confidence what's next. In the meantime, Ramos is doing something he's always been interested in: scoring. A Canadian production company found Ramos online, called him out of the blue, and asked him to write theme music for their reality series The Mission. From the samples Ramos shares, it's obvious he's found another means to stretch and challenge and, most notably, return him to the place where he thrives best, ensconced in La Cumbia Lounge. That will undoubtedly make Chulo very happy.
08/18/06 >> 
