Not _____ Enough
Tony Succar waited for the e-mail. At 29 years old and after five years of work, this e-mail held significance not only for him, but for his family, friends, and over one hundred musicians he had worked with.
The e-mail would bring news about a project he started in 2010, after Michael Jackson’s death. For Halloween, Tony had booked a gig at Miami beach, with a special request to play the seasonal classic, “Thriller.” He played his Latin remix of the song and “people went nuts.” The success of this song led Tony to think of a larger project: to record a cover album of Michael Jackson songs — with a Latin twist.
The heart of the idea was to be a “testament to the power of music and one man’s indomitable spirit.” This simple concept was a side project at first, but grew rapidly, and was soon signed with a label. Latin superstars were added to the project, such as Tito Nieves, Jon Secada and Obie Bermúdez. A complete band was formed with percussionists, singers, and guitarists who wanted to take part in the ever-growing project. Tony titled the project, “Unity: The Latin Tribute to Michael Jackson.”
With the rapid growth and support the album received, it seemed natural to submit “Unity” to the Latin Grammys. But before being nominated, the album would need to go through a screening process that would check to see if the album met the logistical requirements that would qualify it to be nominated, and thus, voted upon by the Academy. These standards are a sort of basic Latin Grammy check-list, that requires the album to have a certain number of songs recorded, certain artistic memberships, and meeting an expected level of professionalism. This process is rigorous and detailed, and if completed, the album could be among those considered, nominated, and ultimately voted by members of the Academy to win a Latin Grammy. So, Tony waited for the e-mail that would state this his album had passed the first round of examinations, that would consider “Unity” as eligible to be a nominated album.
“I was shocked. I thought I was getting punked — ah, these people are funny! But it was true.”
Instead, the e-mail informed Tony that his album had not even made it through the first screening, the “pre-pre-nomination” round, the “just passing the rules” phase. “Unity” would not be allowed to compete for a Latin Grammy at all. He couldn’t believe it.
“Everyone was talking about my record inside the Latin Grammy Academy: its big production value, [it] has top musicians [that] have a lot of respect as musicians themselves. We were all shocked — what’s going on?”
Tony’s heart stopped. He was confused. He ached for answers to why his album would not even be allowed to have a chance to win a Latin Grammy.
He e-mailed the committee in search of answers. After e-mail correspondences that add up to be 16-Word document pages long, a simple phrase seemed to arise that summarized the Academy’s explanation for rejecting the project. The album was “not Latin enough.”
The project had spread like wildfire; the marriage of Michael Jackson’s iconic music with a soulful Latin flair was not difficult to pitch. The appeal of the project extended past musicians to a wide audience of Spanish and English listeners, Michael Jackson fans, and dancers — including myself.
After hearing Tony’s cover of “I Want You Back,” I became a fan of his music and subscribed to his e-mail newsletters. Amidst updates about the project and opportunities to watch live performances, one e-mail in particular caught my attention. A phrase in the subject heading hooked my attention: “Not Latin Enough.” It sparked a burning question what do you mean not Latin enough?
Tony asked the committee the same question. According the the Academy’s rules, an album had to be at least 51% percent in Spanish to qualify as Latin. They told him that ten of his songs were in English, and only two in Spanish, stating that thus, his album was 75% English. However, “10 songs are in Spanglish and 2 songs are completely in Spanish,” Tony corrected, as every single song has some Spanish lyrics incorporated into them in addition to MJ’s English lyrics, making them bilingual. An “investigation” thus proceeded that dissected the album to the lyric-level. It was revealed that the Academy had counted “vocal pads like ‘ooh ooh and ahh ahhs,’” as English words. Tony calculated “Unity” to be 50.6% in Spanish. It was still deemed ineligible. Tony was in disbelief: “I thought they were supposed to be judging the music, not poems…So basically the Academy was telling me that what makes a Latin genre of music is the lyrics. That means I can record a country song in Spanish and call it salsa.”
When Tony defended the album’s ‘Latin-ness,’ the Academy decided to keep the record ‘under investigation.’ But by the end of that 16-page e-mail correspondence (that includes many of Tony’s respectful but unanswered appeals for an explanation), the Academy alerted Tony that they were too far along in the selections process to be able to reconsider or add his album.
And that was it. I could sense Tony’s disappointment through the Google hangouts phone call. While it was clear to me that Tony had told this story several times, it did not hide the fervor he held for his project and the disappointment of an unjustified rejection. Tony gave a passionate speech about the music and instruments of the record, the history of salsa, and his disappointment with the Academy’s actions. It was heart-wrenching to hear his voice (slightly strained by an early sore throat from work and little rest), speak about the music that meant so much to him, and his disability to understand the explanation the Academy gave. On one hand, it seemed like he was moving on because he also talked about the great opportunities the project has given him: a PBS special, and upcoming work with Jennifer Lopez and Ricky Martin. He admitted openly and without hesitation that the controversy with the Latin Grammy Academy had even helped his project gain attention and awareness too. Overall, Tony was a positive energy. But “Unity,” the project that started it all, that had connected the two of us, had been served an injustice.
Tony took a breath and came to a pause. After a moment, I took the opportunity to compliment and assure him of his project’s credibility.
About 6 months before speaking with Tony, I had used one of his remixed Michael Jackson songs in a dance class. The class was comprised of about twenty high school girls who were trained competitively in ‘classic’ dance styles, such as ballet, jazz, and contemporary. Being a relatively new teacher on staff, I had been observing the curriculum and style of the training they received. While excellent and sufficient in its own right, I wanted to bring something different to the table, to challenge the class. These girls, primarily Caucasian and living in an upper-income city, had very comfortable lifestyles. As a one-time substitute teacher and coming from a lower-income suburban town, I took the opportunity to bring some Latin flavor. My intention was to expose them to another dance style and culture, and to share a personal passion of mine: Latin dance and music. I taught a simple salsa footwork pattern set to traditional salsa music. When I played the song, I saw looks of shock and confusion, arms being folded, and eyes rolling — the epitome of teenage attitude and disapproval. I could feel their attention slipping away and racked my brain to find a way to bring them back to the dancing.
The piano and guitar riff of Tony’s rendition of “I Want You Back,” filled the air and changed the entire atmosphere of the classroom. Suddenly smirks turned into smiles and laughter; shrieks of excitement filled the space. All focus was on the movement and feet started to move in contemplation of the new steps, as I started to dance and demonstrate. Within 30 seconds of playing the song, the energy and attention of the class took a 180 degree turn, and soon we were all laughing, singing, and shaking to Tito Nieve’s warm vocal and the blare of the horns. It almost seemed that I had to end class reluctantly, as the girls rushed to their next class with red cheeks and saying “thank you” to me under their breaths. I hit pause on Tony’s track and smiled. He did it.
“Wow, wow.” Tony said. He was amazed that his music made such a difference. I was glad I could share my experience with him — I wanted him to know what an impact his music had made in a community that was “not Latin.” The reason why the e-mail subject had hit home with me was because of an experience I had when I was in middle school: my mother had told me that I was not Indonesian. She said I was American; although, I certainly didn’t feel American because I associated being ‘American’ with being Caucasian. From that point forward, I had searched for answers of self-identity in a cross-cultural and rapidly-shifting world. Was I Indonesian or American? It didn’t seem like I was “enough” of either to qualify as one or the other.
When I came to college as one of many first-generation children of immigrants, I found comfort and community with Latin dance. I found the music infectious and full of life; the dance style, beautiful and intriguing. Even so, there were times when I had been made painfully aware of the fact that I did not speak or understand the Spanish in the songs, or that I did not know the Latin culture behind the dances, and that somehow, these gaps would never allow me to really dance salsa (or bachata, or cha cha, and so on). These experiences led me to question myself: am I Latin enough to dance these styles? Am I missing something because I’m not Latin — is my dancing not enough? Again, I had come to point where I did not fit within a culture that I thought, and wanted to identify with.
When I found Tony’s music, it was a bridge. It was a beautiful combination of the salsa rhythm and the pop king himself. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t Latin, I could still dance to it and feel included — everyone knows MJ. When the opportunity rose to speak to Tony, I was curious to find out more about the person behind such a simple, but creative and fresh work of art. But ultimately, I wondered if he had an experience similar to mine that had inspired the project. So after another comfortable pause in our conversation, I asked him my burning question: what does “not Latin enough” mean to you, in a cross-cultural, changing world that’s becoming more connected?
“We are living in a world where the boundaries are disappearing at a very rapid pace, and cultures are mixing everywhere. That phrase goes beyond music and applies to anything. I don’t understand that phrase because I’m a nasty mix of cultures already: my last name is Arabic — my dad is half Lebanese — and my mom’s side of the family is Mexican and Spanish. My mom was born in L.A; my dad was born in Peru. My mom’s parents are 100% Japanese. I’m like, the world,” Tony replied, and we laughed.
Tony talked about his culturally-mixed lifestyle, as his habits don’t allow him to be placed in one cultural category. While his mother’s Japanese influence has taught him to take offf his shoes before entering a home and inspired his love for soy sauce, he also believes that he has a “super Latin way of living that’s all about labor and partying, and living at home forever until my parents kick me out.”
As our phone call came to a close, it was clear that Tony and I shared cross-cultural experiences that had influenced our passions. It was comforting to know that while “Unity” would not get a shot at the Latin Grammys as we believed it deserved, that the music was still out there for people to enjoy and share. As we shared stories about Latin music and dancing, the album had fulfilled its true mission: to connect people with others, and ultimately, to build friendship and community.
“You gotta judge things for what they truly are. You gotta close your eyes and judge the book by its content, not its cover, that’s it, period. When people go against that, they’re going against the current.”
Tony is currently living in Miami with his family, where he continues to work with music. This past November, he started a petition for the Latin Grammys to reconsider his album. Tony has also been granted a meeting with Mr. Gabriel Albaroa, president and CEO of the Latin Grammys. No date has been confirmed for this meeting.
