El Duque de la Bachata

Dukes rarely make good dance music. Think of the Duque de Edimburgo, or the Duque de Westminster: both rubbish with a bongo. The Duque de la Bachata, on the other hand, saves the honour of the ducal species with this terrific collection of the Dominican Republic’s second-line rhythm, bachata, remaining the authentic staple of the poor suburbs of Santo Domingo despite its recent exaltation to international pop prominence.

Bachata is formulaic and irresistible: a rattle of stick-played bongo, a hiss of guiro, a thump of bass and chorus answering the lead singer, whose job is generally to bewail the perfidy of women, as often as not women picked up in a barrio rum bar. Essential to bachata is the plangent and melodious electric guitar, with pizzicato that accelerates into a canter, like a skittish pony, for the dance sequences. The Duque discharges the latter two duties beautifully, and his simple, soulful voice is closely miked into an excellent studio mix. There are some great rich choruses, gorgeous excursions into Afro-Dominican voodoo rhythm, a super-savoury local version of son and some fantastic merengues. And how welcome to see a rare reference to Felix Cumbé, the wonderful Haitian-born darling of the red-light barrios. Turns out the Duque is an old Cumbé sidekick, and an excellent Cumbé interpreter – his vocals on ‘La Mamandela’ echoing the maestro’s distinctive tones to blissful effect. Bravo, your grace.