Dancing with Buena Vista Social Club, one final time

On the question of legitimacy, it’s something that the troupe have clearly soul searched over themselves. For many years, since the passing of a critical mass of original members, they held their hands up to it and toured as Orquesta Buena Vista Social Club. Tonight they’re back to the old name. It’s a celebration of everything they’ve ever been, rather than whatever they specifically are right now. Behind the band, over each song plays video and photo tributes of the old players who’ve died, juxtaposed against their music.

For many, the tacky animations probably reminded them of those videos Facebook makes for you at the end of the year. For sappy sentimentalists like me, it was moving to see the stories of people who had literally made a life out of music, right up until their final years, even their final days. It made it especially poignant and triumphant to see original vocalist Omara Portuondo emerge halfway through the set, belting out sass and melancholy, dancing all the way through, even in a clear state of frailty in her mid 80s.

To be sure, there’s always been a certain obviousness to them. It’s reflected in a tour name as faintly derivative as the Adios Tour; a title which feels geared mainly towards people whose only knowledge of Latin American music is through Buena Vista themselves. Tonight’s 95 per cent white audience in the Royal Albert Hall is testament to that. But a certain accessibility and outright goofiness has always been part of the charm. Tonight, synchronised dancing, pantomime acting, and tricks like Barbarito Torres playing the laud behind his back are as much the part of the show as blistering piano runs (and there’s plenty of those too, with up to three rounds of applause per piece). They’re probably as mainstream as Cuban jazz gets, but it doesn’t dent anything it has to offer.

I’d be devastated about never seeing Buena Vista Social club again, if this show hadn’t been so joyful. Above maybe anything else, it was inspiring to see a group of people so clearly devoted to their craft both as individual musicians, and a collective – bowing out only because age and death demands it, while still going out on the absolute top of their game. It was a pleasure to dance with them one final time.