The club was crowded, an underground labyrinth of open-walled rooms with low ceilings, dim lights and large oil paintings of warm sumptuous tones and warm sumptuous people. The entry rooms were for tables and drinking, open floors and dancing. Beyond these dark rooms was a longer, brighter hall with a low stage where the band played. Here, the music took precedence. A few couples moved together in the midst of the crowd but the rest moved by themselves - a natural response to the energy that came from the mouths and fingertips of the six men, their unfaltering rhythm, their delicious harmony...It was as if the only way to listen to this kind of music was with the entire body, in movement, in a communion of rhythm.
As the group began to play, I had the sensation that one of my dad's old fania records was coming to life - and I was there to dance to it.
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