Joe Arroyo was one of the all time greatest Colombian Tropical singers. He helped define the sound of Colombian salsa and make it popular around the world. These videos are old and probably shot from television screens, but the music and dancing are still great.
Cartagena, Colombia
Alvaro José Arroyo González was born in the Nariño neighborhood of Cartagena de Indias, Bolívar, Colombia on November 1, 1955.
By the time he was eight years old, he was singing in brothels. Don’t get excited. It’s cultural. New Orleans jazz, Dominican merengue, Argentine tango, and probably most Latin music started the same way.
Arroyo blended the Caribbean musical styles of the African diaspora into his own unique sound. He blended New York salsa, Colombian cumbia and porro, Trinidadian soca, Haitian compas and French Antillean zouk.
Fruko y sus Tesos with Joe Arroyo
In 1971 got signed to the seminal Colombian Tropical label Disco Fuentes.
Julio Ernesto Estrada, the bass player for Fruko y sus Tesos, one of Colombia’s top salsa bands, heard Arroyo and brought him into the band.
Arroyo sang with Fruko y sus Tesos for ten years.
Joe Arroyo and La Verdad
In 1981, Arroyo went solo with his own band La Verdad. It was the wild 1980s and like many others Arroyo suffered from addictions. He was open about it. Still he made a string of hits.
His “La Rebelion,” known for it’s refrain “No Le Pegue a la Negra” (Don’t beat on the Black woman), has become a Colombian salsa anthem. Watching the video makes one wonder why in the United States, we still don’t talk honestly about human slavery in our country.
En Barranquilla Me Quedo (I Stay in Barranquilla)
Arroyo died in Barranquilla, Colombia on July 26, 2011. The same year, the Latin Academy of Records gave him a posthumous Lifetime Achievement Award.
Joe Arroyo is My Favorite Tropical Singer
In college my Thai father hung out with three brothers from Guyana, a country on the other side of Venezuela from Colombia. Guyana has Trinidad culture. They used to call him “Pancho” because he liked the Spanish version of the Davy Crockett song, “Pancho Crockett.” Anyway, through the brothers’ influence my Dad learned to love Latin music. He used to play it very loud at home. I hated it when I was a boy, but love it now. It’s inside of me.
When I first started listening to salsa at Jazz at Lincoln Center, I was surprised to hear my father’s music. I had a Colombian girlfriend, so we also listened to Colombian salsa. It was very strange to find my own father in Joe Arroyo’s music. That’s life, and thank you Dad. Miss you.