Tangoman

"Latin Passion"
By Dennis Dzamba
Tangoman
Pauly’s Hotel, Feb. 14
GIVE TANGOMAN—A MOST appropriate gift for Valentine’s Day.
Drawing upon the lush and lustful sounds of Latin music as their source, this six-piece Woodstock-based ensemble performed relationships and freedom.
Tangoman’s composer-guitarist, Buenos Aires-born Jorge Heilpern, has extracted the musical strains of his South American roots—the samba, bolero, mambo and tango—and deftly cultivated that infectious blend of overlapping rhythms with splashes of pop, reggae and ska.
Tangoman play country music. The country just happens to be Argentina. Many Heilpern’s songs are delivered in his native tongue, but they require no translation. Their meanings can be deciphered by the expressions seen on his face, heard in his voice, and felt in his heart. Transcending linguistic boundaries, Heilpern conveys his message through the sheer telepathic power of their emotional credibility. The man is a romantic.
Soothing and warm, yet sparkling with expansive intensity, Heilpern’s vocals master the art of restrained sensuousness. Heilpern lives and breathes his lyrical passages, completely immersing himself with their intimacy and totally convinced of their convictions; a man ho is comfortable inhabiting his own skin.
Although Heilpern, through the forces of his personality, can at times dominate the group’s overall flow, Tangoman’s vital signs are attached to more than one man. N (In) fact, much of their music is instrumental, both literally and figuratively, creating a sultry, tropical density that nicely complements Heilpern’s voice. Saxophone, percussion, guitar and bass are afforded equal time on the spotlight. The sax will often begin, playing a simple cha-cha melody line draped over a skeletal accompaniment of bass and conga, meandering a while in its early stages, delicately slipping in and out of its supple groove, gradually building from one sonic plateau to the next, finding its niche, then subsiding momentarily between each fanciful solo excursion, until all instruments converge into one massive and thunderous finale, the climax of which leave both artist and audience drained.
As a spoken and written commodity, Latin is a dead language. But in the extremely capable hands, heart and soul of Heilpern’s Tangoman, Latin as a musical language remains passionately alive.
Dennis Dzamba
*METROLAND*
- Metroland Albany NY

"Latin Passion"
By Dennis Dzamba
Tangoman
Pauly’s Hotel, Feb. 14
GIVE TANGOMAN—A MOST appropriate gift for Valentine’s Day.
Drawing upon the lush and lustful sounds of Latin music as their source, this six-piece Woodstock-based ensemble performed relationships and freedom.
Tangoman’s composer-guitarist, Buenos Aires-born Jorge Heilpern, has extracted the musical strains of his South American roots—the samba, bolero, mambo and tango—and deftly cultivated that infectious blend of overlapping rhythms with splashes of pop, reggae and ska.
Tangoman play country music. The country just happens to be Argentina. Many Heilpern’s songs are delivered in his native tongue, but they require no translation. Their meanings can be deciphered by the expressions seen on his face, heard in his voice, and felt in his heart. Transcending linguistic boundaries, Heilpern conveys his message through the sheer telepathic power of their emotional credibility. The man is a romantic.
Soothing and warm, yet sparkling with expansive intensity, Heilpern’s vocals master the art of restrained sensuousness. Heilpern lives and breathes his lyrical passages, completely immersing himself with their intimacy and totally convinced of their convictions; a man ho is comfortable inhabiting his own skin.
Although Heilpern, through the forces of his personality, can at times dominate the group’s overall flow, Tangoman’s vital signs are attached to more than one man. N (In) fact, much of their music is instrumental, both literally and figuratively, creating a sultry, tropical density that nicely complements Heilpern’s voice. Saxophone, percussion, guitar and bass are afforded equal time on the spotlight. The sax will often begin, playing a simple cha-cha melody line draped over a skeletal accompaniment of bass and conga, meandering a while in its early stages, delicately slipping in and out of its supple groove, gradually building from one sonic plateau to the next, finding its niche, then subsiding momentarily between each fanciful solo excursion, until all instruments converge into one massive and thunderous finale, the climax of which leave both artist and audience drained.
As a spoken and written commodity, Latin is a dead language. But in the extremely capable hands, heart and soul of Heilpern’s Tangoman, Latin as a musical language remains passionately alive.
Dennis Dzamba
*METROLAND*
- Metroland Albany NY

"Woodstock Times"
Who says Latin is a dead language?
The capacity crowd at Thinker Street Cafe last Friday night was a dancin’, boppin’, grateful audience. Jorge Heilpern is Tangoman, with his acoustic guitar, warm baritone voice and infectious rhythmic style. Jorge, formerly of Mambo Daddy, is now putting his energy into Tangoman, and energy is what was released to Woodstock’s faithful as well as to many new faces in the crows.
Among the newer members of the Cafe audience, it was good to see a group of men with the unmistakable heritage of South and Central America’s indigenous people carved into their faces. They were there to enjoy Spanish lyrics and rhythms, the silky, simple romantic harmonies that give this Latin music so much of its profile. And they were there to identify with the rich musical culture, both Spanish and Indian, from which it springs.
Tangoman has more than once face, though each has the same persona. The band’s been heard in the cool quiet of an elegant supper club, providing intense, sexy, Latin dance music, and they’ve been heard, as they were this night, as a hot, driving, exciting, Latin intoxicator.
Paul Branin is one of the big reasons for Tangoman’s sizzle. His technical virtuosity on tenor sax gives him free rein to explore an incredibly wide range, both in instrumental terms and in his musical ideas, The latte are fresh, beautiful and very intelligent. They go somewhere, before, piling up on you, leaving you breathless, agape, and feeling like you’ve had a special experience. Then he switches to the baritone sax and honks the dirtiest, most delicious bass to someone else’s melodic riff, syncopating and growling sometimes as accompaniment, sometimes, as melody. Wait, now he’s got a soprano sax and he’s in the stratosphere with the sweetest obbligato on changes that melt your heart.
And we haven’t even heard his lead guitar playing. That’s right, he’s a monster. I suppose when you have the ear, the musical ideas in your head, it doesn’t matter what instrument you pick up. The ideas just come tumbling out, and do they ever. He’s the big reason for the heat coming from the bandstand.
The crowd was ecstatic. Jan B. didn’t stop dancing, alone or with partners. Eric stood in the middle of the dance floor, hemmed in by dancers on all sides, just grooving. Susan G. said, “I haven’t stayed for a second show in years.” Plus, there were very few cigarettes burning in the whole room—you could actually breathe.
Rounding out the band, David Oliver was indeed a wizard of the keyboard. Mike Esposito’s bass was sometimes fire and sometimes glue—both worked in their time. The percussion section of Ernie Colon and David Colarco on congas, hi-hats and what-all inflamed this crowd as it did their fellow musicians. It was a party, it was a night to remember, it was Tangoman. ++

- Woodstock Times

"Woodstock Times"
Who says Latin is a dead language?
The capacity crowd at Thinker Street Cafe last Friday night was a dancin’, boppin’, grateful audience. Jorge Heilpern is Tangoman, with his acoustic guitar, warm baritone voice and infectious rhythmic style. Jorge, formerly of Mambo Daddy, is now putting his energy into Tangoman, and energy is what was released to Woodstock’s faithful as well as to many new faces in the crows.
Among the newer members of the Cafe audience, it was good to see a group of men with the unmistakable heritage of South and Central America’s indigenous people carved into their faces. They were there to enjoy Spanish lyrics and rhythms, the silky, simple romantic harmonies that give this Latin music so much of its profile. And they were there to identify with the rich musical culture, both Spanish and Indian, from which it springs.
Tangoman has more than once face, though each has the same persona. The band’s been heard in the cool quiet of an elegant supper club, providing intense, sexy, Latin dance music, and they’ve been heard, as they were this night, as a hot, driving, exciting, Latin intoxicator.
Paul Branin is one of the big reasons for Tangoman’s sizzle. His technical virtuosity on tenor sax gives him free rein to explore an incredibly wide range, both in instrumental terms and in his musical ideas, The latte are fresh, beautiful and very intelligent. They go somewhere, before, piling up on you, leaving you breathless, agape, and feeling like you’ve had a special experience. Then he switches to the baritone sax and honks the dirtiest, most delicious bass to someone else’s melodic riff, syncopating and growling sometimes as accompaniment, sometimes, as melody. Wait, now he’s got a soprano sax and he’s in the stratosphere with the sweetest obbligato on changes that melt your heart.
And we haven’t even heard his lead guitar playing. That’s right, he’s a monster. I suppose when you have the ear, the musical ideas in your head, it doesn’t matter what instrument you pick up. The ideas just come tumbling out, and do they ever. He’s the big reason for the heat coming from the bandstand.
The crowd was ecstatic. Jan B. didn’t stop dancing, alone or with partners. Eric stood in the middle of the dance floor, hemmed in by dancers on all sides, just grooving. Susan G. said, “I haven’t stayed for a second show in years.” Plus, there were very few cigarettes burning in the whole room—you could actually breathe.
Rounding out the band, David Oliver was indeed a wizard of the keyboard. Mike Esposito’s bass was sometimes fire and sometimes glue—both worked in their time. The percussion section of Ernie Colon and David Colarco on congas, hi-hats and what-all inflamed this crowd as it did their fellow musicians. It was a party, it was a night to remember, it was Tangoman. ++

- Woodstock Times

"Pan-American trio rocks Lake"
By KITTY MONTGOMERY
Music Reviewer

WOODSTOCK — Pan-American games at the Joyous Lake Saturday night featured a trio of musicians currently indigenous to Woodstock.
Whatever the legend, when players like Canada born Garth Hudson of The Band and Winston Grennan, godfather of Jamaica’s rock-steady reggae beat join Argentine Tangoman Jorge Heilpern for a Saturday night pickup party, Woodstock is still a happening place.
Put these men in tour, playing their Latin-flavored, New World music, and they’d rival the super Etoile band backing Sengalese singer Youssu N’Dour with their superstar status and genuine, fulminating flamboyance.
The phenomenon of Tangoman is a legend in the making. Formerly an economist, Heilpern fled his country, after witnessing the “disappearance” of top men in his department.
He commenced a second career as a musician, writing pop and commercial material, and singing his own songs, working intimate cabaret forums in Europe and on the American East Coast. The intensely focused emotion of his style has drawn comparisons to Belafonte; its sensual intimacy, to Charles Aznavour.
In front of the Latin band he’s put together over a few years, including keys player Paul Duffy, Paul Branin on lead guitar and sax and Steve Rust, bass, Tangoman’s persona has evolved from Mr. Cool, in backwards baseball cap and mirrored aviator shades — to Jewish-Argentinean bushman equivalent to Charro.
In wire-rimmed, coke-bottle glasses and a shining dome wreathed by salt-and-pepper sweat-locks, Heilpern rides the rhythm he drives with guitar and song, a permanent revolutionary, inciting riot and transformation through dance. The all-action committee of band member backs his cause to the max.
Drummer for Jimmy Cliff in the hit, “Harder They Come,” Grennan’s beat has shaped the bands behind Jamaica’s top reggae stars. Ultimately this veteran has tapped into a power that transcends his skins. Subliminal to the ariel licks of guitars and keys, he’s a locomotive force, sun-radiant when he brightens any Latin-ska-reggae beat with splashes from overhead cymbals.
“Who’s that?” you wonder, catching the geezer on stage who looks like Rip Van Winkle in a gaucho hat, passed out over his accordian like a drunk in some south-of-the-border cantina. Shave him or leave him alone — he’s still Garth Hudson, blessed out in his embrace with the organ of breath. Upright at keyboards for a lifetime, he’s now found the ultimate intimate outlet for his sweetest musical thoughts. In comparative moments of quiet, they bloom out through the band blast in fantastic and beautiful filigree on his instrument.
- Kingston Freeman NY

"Pan-American trio rocks Lake"
By KITTY MONTGOMERY
Music Reviewer

WOODSTOCK — Pan-American games at the Joyous Lake Saturday night featured a trio of musicians currently indigenous to Woodstock.
Whatever the legend, when players like Canada born Garth Hudson of The Band and Winston Grennan, godfather of Jamaica’s rock-steady reggae beat join Argentine Tangoman Jorge Heilpern for a Saturday night pickup party, Woodstock is still a happening place.
Put these men in tour, playing their Latin-flavored, New World music, and they’d rival the super Etoile band backing Sengalese singer Youssu N’Dour with their superstar status and genuine, fulminating flamboyance.
The phenomenon of Tangoman is a legend in the making. Formerly an economist, Heilpern fled his country, after witnessing the “disappearance” of top men in his department.
He commenced a second career as a musician, writing pop and commercial material, and singing his own songs, working intimate cabaret forums in Europe and on the American East Coast. The intensely focused emotion of his style has drawn comparisons to Belafonte; its sensual intimacy, to Charles Aznavour.
In front of the Latin band he’s put together over a few years, including keys player Paul Duffy, Paul Branin on lead guitar and sax and Steve Rust, bass, Tangoman’s persona has evolved from Mr. Cool, in backwards baseball cap and mirrored aviator shades — to Jewish-Argentinean bushman equivalent to Charro.
In wire-rimmed, coke-bottle glasses and a shining dome wreathed by salt-and-pepper sweat-locks, Heilpern rides the rhythm he drives with guitar and song, a permanent revolutionary, inciting riot and transformation through dance. The all-action committee of band member backs his cause to the max.
Drummer for Jimmy Cliff in the hit, “Harder They Come,” Grennan’s beat has shaped the bands behind Jamaica’s top reggae stars. Ultimately this veteran has tapped into a power that transcends his skins. Subliminal to the ariel licks of guitars and keys, he’s a locomotive force, sun-radiant when he brightens any Latin-ska-reggae beat with splashes from overhead cymbals.
“Who’s that?” you wonder, catching the geezer on stage who looks like Rip Van Winkle in a gaucho hat, passed out over his accordian like a drunk in some south-of-the-border cantina. Shave him or leave him alone — he’s still Garth Hudson, blessed out in his embrace with the organ of breath. Upright at keyboards for a lifetime, he’s now found the ultimate intimate outlet for his sweetest musical thoughts. In comparative moments of quiet, they bloom out through the band blast in fantastic and beautiful filigree on his instrument.
- Kingston Freeman NY

"Hail Jorge!"
Starshine. Naturally luminous beyond the constellations of the hype manufactured by wannabes and media mavens, the real thing is unmistakable. Tangoman’s got it.
Songs by this Argentinian Aznavour named Jorge Heilpern slither, constrict the heart of any man who has suffered for love. Behind the intimacy and conviction of the lyrics he lives as he sings, there is a pulse. The five-piece band that backs him drives an open Latin beat, but Heilpern is possessed of an insidious rhythmic energy, densely tropical and primitive, that moves his audience to dance, dance, dance even while the motion of his song fixes them in an anaconda’s embrace.
The phenomenon that is Tangoman, including double drums, keys, bass, and sax, has burst most local clubs at the seams, so the progression last Saturday to the Bearsville Theater, with its open dance floor, was natural. Besides, Garth Hudson of The Band was sitting in, and the crowd that came out was enormous.
In this space, the cabaret intimacy, incidental gotta-dance intensity of the band shifted to an on-purpose dancehall sound, an accommodation to the group’s growing local popularity as a wild party band. Tangoman is so much more than that, this temptation to please rather than seduce will pass with the coming of wider success. Magnificent moments abounded in the bodacious collective anyhow. And no matter how long the solos or how far they rocked away from the sultry Latin pulse that has made Tangoman’s closer gigs a cheap trip to the tropics, Heilpern crested the band’s energy, picked it up and carried it further, with every trip to the mike. Stork-like in his high-top sneakers, eyes shaded by a baseball cap, this guitar playing, keyboard riding, ex-Argentinean economist makes ginchy look sexy.
A second singer in Tangoman is sax player Paul Branin. His horn is possessed of a multitude of voices, all dog-breath intimate as Heilpern’s—jazz-raw and Latin big-band, trumpet bright. Ernie Colon and Artie Dixon double the percussion, Colon on congas and Dixon on traps. Dixon, who sketches behind the players without overwhelming the mass, took a solo that culminated beyond the sum of its rhythm and power to blow out into orbit, a lift-off awesome to witness, full of the sound and fry signifying effort. Steve Rust, of the local Rust clan of musicians, pulls in elegantly minimal, absolutely sensual bass lines, and Paul Duffy chords the keys.
Seated among them, looking like Old Man Mountain, sat Garth Hudson. Serene and resplendent in snow-white, chest-length beard, this man, respected for this musicianship beyond any legend, seemed to hold the keys of his heart’s desire. Keys to cherish like a woman, to give the breath of life, like a child. He played the ultimate, intimate keyboard, an accordion. Blissed out, working unobtrusively within the texture of the group, his occasional solos on the box were mini-cantina soul songs, cries from the heart of a man who has mastered the complexities of great technological Oz-box boards, and who’s home at last. ++

Cat Ballou
The Kingston Freeman
- Kingston Freeman Ny

"Hail Jorge!"
Starshine. Naturally luminous beyond the constellations of the hype manufactured by wannabes and media mavens, the real thing is unmistakable. Tangoman’s got it.
Songs by this Argentinian Aznavour named Jorge Heilpern slither, constrict the heart of any man who has suffered for love. Behind the intimacy and conviction of the lyrics he lives as he sings, there is a pulse. The five-piece band that backs him drives an open Latin beat, but Heilpern is possessed of an insidious rhythmic energy, densely tropical and primitive, that moves his audience to dance, dance, dance even while the motion of his song fixes them in an anaconda’s embrace.
The phenomenon that is Tangoman, including double drums, keys, bass, and sax, has burst most local clubs at the seams, so the progression last Saturday to the Bearsville Theater, with its open dance floor, was natural. Besides, Garth Hudson of The Band was sitting in, and the crowd that came out was enormous.
In this space, the cabaret intimacy, incidental gotta-dance intensity of the band shifted to an on-purpose dancehall sound, an accommodation to the group’s growing local popularity as a wild party band. Tangoman is so much more than that, this temptation to please rather than seduce will pass with the coming of wider success. Magnificent moments abounded in the bodacious collective anyhow. And no matter how long the solos or how far they rocked away from the sultry Latin pulse that has made Tangoman’s closer gigs a cheap trip to the tropics, Heilpern crested the band’s energy, picked it up and carried it further, with every trip to the mike. Stork-like in his high-top sneakers, eyes shaded by a baseball cap, this guitar playing, keyboard riding, ex-Argentinean economist makes ginchy look sexy.
A second singer in Tangoman is sax player Paul Branin. His horn is possessed of a multitude of voices, all dog-breath intimate as Heilpern’s—jazz-raw and Latin big-band, trumpet bright. Ernie Colon and Artie Dixon double the percussion, Colon on congas and Dixon on traps. Dixon, who sketches behind the players without overwhelming the mass, took a solo that culminated beyond the sum of its rhythm and power to blow out into orbit, a lift-off awesome to witness, full of the sound and fry signifying effort. Steve Rust, of the local Rust clan of musicians, pulls in elegantly minimal, absolutely sensual bass lines, and Paul Duffy chords the keys.
Seated among them, looking like Old Man Mountain, sat Garth Hudson. Serene and resplendent in snow-white, chest-length beard, this man, respected for this musicianship beyond any legend, seemed to hold the keys of his heart’s desire. Keys to cherish like a woman, to give the breath of life, like a child. He played the ultimate, intimate keyboard, an accordion. Blissed out, working unobtrusively within the texture of the group, his occasional solos on the box were mini-cantina soul songs, cries from the heart of a man who has mastered the complexities of great technological Oz-box boards, and who’s home at last. ++

Cat Ballou
The Kingston Freeman
- Kingston Freeman Ny