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Alex Cuba helped me say goodbye to Steve Albini.
The latter, an audio engineer and musician who helped codify the sound of underground rock through his work with The Jesus Lizard, Slint, and his own band, Shellac, died unexpectedly last week at the age of 61. Albini extolled the virtue of simply doing the work in one’s chosen creative field—not with a mind toward achieving international superstardom, but for the pure honor and joy of pouring one’s whole self into a given project.
Few modern artists embody that ideal better than Cuba. Though his sun-baked melodies and seaside vibes are a far cry from the noise rock that Albini trucked in, the two men shared that love of the grind. For the 50-year old Cuba, he’s been quietly chipping away at his craft for close to three decades, earning his stripes and multiple Juno and Grammy awards. And with it, Cuba has gained a dedicated fan base that, as the dozens who packed into Show Bar last Sunday bore out, hangs on his every word and melody.
Cuba had everyone in the room in the palms of his steady hands from the moment he calmly ambled onstage. The audience singalongs with fan favorites like “Dividido” and “Ciudad Hembra (La Habana)” were loud and spirited; the laughter at his charming stage banter bordered on over the top. The response was so rabid at times, it felt like he could have led these fans on a spontaneous march through the streets.
Though he maybe wouldn’t have enjoyed the music, I have to think that Albini would have appreciated how Cuba approached the whole night. He punched in, gave every ounce of himself to the set with little complaint and no ego trips, and punched out. There’s a lesson in that for us all.