The latest in a series of guest posts from Carl Lee.
Carl wrote this post several weeks ago, and the situation in the country is now deteriorating due to a lack of energy reaching the country due to US sanctions yet again interfering with another country.
Cuba: The music never stops.
Watching the strangling of Cuba by the United States of America and the subsequent disintegration of key elements of the country: assailed by nationwide power outrages, food shortages, crumbling infrastructure and patients dying in hospitals starved of drugs and power is heart breaking. This is a nation that attempted to forge its own unique developmental path and found itself in the political and economic cross hairs of its global super power neighbour who already had ‘1898’ form in regime change on the Caribbean island.
It still startles me that once, from 1762-63, Cuba was part of the British Empire, until it swapped back to it’s original colonial oppressor, Spain, in exchange for Florida.
Don’t anybody tell Donald Trump.
It is over two decades since I visited Cuba and I still reflect on the depth and diversity of music that I encountered there from the cool piano jazz of tourist hotels, driving rhythms in an Havana bar where folk swapped instruments in a joyful celebration of talent and soul, and the incomparable Le Casa de la Trova in the heart of Trinidad where the band and dancing were like something out of a film set: think ‘Sinners’, but under a Caribbean blanket of stars and no vampires.
You want an idea of that Cuba; down at heel but joyous, inter-generational, spontaneous, cultural and cool, very cool, then Daymé Arocena, the young Afro-Cuban jazz singer from Havana pretty much captures it for me.
So much music of such variety has sprung out of Cuba over the years that it is hard to know where to begin but colonialism is as good a place to start as any, because it was the combination of predominantly Spanish colonialists and the rhythms of the African slaves that are the two key elements that remain even today.
The guitar, violins, piano and melody that were bought by the Spanish colliding with polyrhythmic percussion of Africa are at the core of the multitude of musical styles that Cuba has forged.
The early fusions of this hybridity are still kept alive by groups such as Santiago de Cuba’s Chagui de la Maya with the call and response vocals reminiscent of songs sung by slaves as they toiled in sugar cane plantations.
Yet for all of Cuba’s deep historical musical roots it is also something the Cuban government invests a lot of resource and time in. It has invested in developing music education in schools - with music given equal standing to academic subjects and starting at a young age. This can involve up to eight hours a week over the full twelve years of formal education .
This education focuses on classical music as well traditional Cuba music.
More gifted students are directed towards specialist schools as the video below shows.
Check out the gifted Gavilan twins:
Classical music is the starting point on the Cuban school music curriculum but then the multitude of Cuban musical styles starts to be explored: bolero, songo, guarancha, danzon, mambo, bata, son, guajira, rumba, pilon and tova. And that is just a selection.
A personal favourite style of mine is Afro-Cuban jazz and currently one of the hottest acts are teenage young brothers Fabio and Diego Abreu whose talent is breath-taking and covers everything from mambo to old school jazz classics such as Duke Ellington’s ‘Take the A Train’ of which this superlative version is thoroughly ‘Cubanified’.
Of course Cuban musicians don’t just stay in Cuba.
They break out periodically into the wider global musical consciousness.
Perhaps most notable has been the Bueno Vista Social Club and their global hit ‘Chan Chan’, which has now become a standard in every tourist hotel in Havana as well as remixed and repackage across the World. And then there is even Cuban hip hop which I first discovered in 1998 when stumbling upon a car parked up on the beach in Trinidad with hip hop blasting out of the CD player whilst a crowd gathered around cracking beers and throwing down moves as the sea shimmered against the white sand and the sun beat down.
A dictatorial communist regime it most certainly did not feel like in that moment, and to be fair it rarely did anywhere. Poor, yes, virtually no advertising and certainly ‘down at heel’ but surprisingly upbeat and super friendly. This was in the time of Fidel Castro: El Presidente. Orishas were perhaps the only hip hop act that translated outside of Cuba and they relocated to France where there sound seemed to resonate more than in the UK.
Yet as observed at the start, these are very troubled times for Cuba. The romance of Castro’s revolution and an alternative path to development, once under-pinned by education, health, art and music is unravelling. Investment is non-existent and a diaspora focused in Florida is circling ready to pick at the bones of the revolutionary dream as every institution of the state appears to be reeling.
Yet even under these disintegrating conditions music survives.
As the Irish percussionist and musicologist Ruaairi Glasheen observed in a recent visit to Cuba in February 2026 the drum “meant power, it meant resistance, the drum meant revolution and despite the hardship many in Cuba continue to face today these rhythms persist against all odds”.
The music never stops.
Carl Lee is retired but was a lecturer at The University of Sheffield and Sheffield Hallam University, taught A level Geography for 20 years at Sheffield College, is the author of five books about geography and has a PhD in economic geography. He has been nuts about music since buying his first single in 1973: 10cc’s 'Rubber Bullets' if you were wondering.
I've been preparing a lengthy post for my LivingGeography blog and to share at the GA Conference.
It's now ready and I'm posting it today to coincide with my session at the GA Conference 2026.
It's taken me a while to get this post finished. It would have been better nearer the actual event, but better to be accurate and useful than rush something out.
It's also a cross-posting from my World of Music blog. This is taking shape nicely and is well into its second month, with hundreds of blog posts in draft ready to go, and some very nice guest blog posts already edited and ready to share.
The Superbowl half-time show is one of the highest profile cultural events in the USA (although three times as many people globally will watch a top-level Premier League football match than the Super Bowl itself).
Benito Antonio Martínez Ocasio (Latin American Spanish: born March 10, 1994), known professionally as Bad Bunny, is a Puerto Rican rapper, singer, record producer, and occasional professional wrestler.
Dubbed the "King of Latin Trap", he is widely credited with helping Spanish-language rap reach mainstream global popularity and is considered one of the greatest Latino rappers of all time.
Bad Bunny has been named Spotify's most-streamed artist globally four times (2020, 2021, 2022, and 2025), making him the first and only artist to achieve this distinction.
Puerto Rico, officially the Commonwealth of Puerto Rico,is a self-governing Caribbean archipelago and island organized as an unincorporated territory of the United States under the designation of commonwealth.
Puerto Ricans have been US Citizens since 1917.
Puerto Ricans often call the island Borinquen, a derivation of Borikén, its indigenous Taíno name, which is popularly said to mean 'Land of the Valiant Lord'.
The terms boricua, borinqueño, and borincano are commonly used to identify someone of Puerto Rican heritage
Puerto Rico was colonised by the Spanish before the Americans claimed it.
In 2017, Puerto Rico suffered back-to-back large hurricanes: the Category 5 Hurricane Irma and the Category 4 Hurricane Maria.The storms caused an extreme amount of damage to the island, causing the following effects: all power was knocked out, 95% cell service, 43% of waste water treatment plants, 40 thousand land slides, 97% of roads blocked, 28% of health facilities damaged, leading to over 90% of the population applying for assistance after the storms.
This has also become the subject of a Bad Bunny protest song - El Apagón ('The Power Outage') about continuing power problems.
“His very presence on the stage is a statement,” said Petra Rivera-Rideau, co-author of the book P FKN R: How Bad Bunny Became the Global Voice of Puerto Rican Resistance.
“The fact is that we’re currently in a moment where Spanish is seen as a mark of being foreign, of not belonging, where people are getting profiled for being Spanish speakers – that ups the ante and importance. It can’t really be overstated.”
"..provided a decent political roadmap for what a post-Maga America should aspire to embrace: pro-growth humanism inside and outside our own borders..."
There's a great image as well to reinforce the global spread of the musician.
Scenes described in the Guardian piece linked to above include:
1. A young man carrying a Puerto Rican flag before a sea of sugarcane opened with a benediction for all of us: “Qué rico es ser latino. Hoy se bebe,” (“How sweet it is to be Latino. Today we drink”)
Sugar cane is an important crop and is linked with colonialism and slavery in locations where it has been cultivated.
2. References to Puerto Rican community life.
los viejos playing dominos,
street vendors selling coco frío, piraguas and tacos (sold by Los Angeles’s actual Villa’s Tacos),
boxers Xander Zayas and Emiliano Vargas in the fight,
a man proposing to his girlfriend just as the femme-forward Yo Perreo Sola starts. “Las mujeres en el mundo entero,” he says, “perreando sin miedo”. (“The women in the whole world, perreando without fear.”)
Behind him, at la casita he built in the image of a house on the island, is a yearbook of stars, including Karol G, Pedro Pascal, Cardi B, Jessica Alba, Young Miko and Alix Earle.
Bad Bunny carried the Puerto Rican flag of independence, the original flag of the territory that was outlawed until 1952 and is distinguished by its sky blue triangle. While performing a salsa version of her 2024 Bruno Mars duet Die With a Smile, Lady Gaga wore a dress in the same shade.
Finally, if you haven't seen it yet, the show can be seen here:
Music has been used as a method of protest for decades... including the early songs of Woody Guthrie and others. Protests - whether against genocide or other issues are very much current news.
I will be mentioning some famous 'protest' singers and songs, including the Scottish musician Dick Gaughan - another person who I have seen numerous times in folk clubs and pubs around South Yorkshire.
It's also worth mentioning the protests of musicians when politicians whose policies they don't agree with use their music. Or where the music is inappropriate to the protest but the protestors don't realise e.g. using Queen's music for anti-immigration protests...
I'm going to include a couple of my favourites here to start the process.
There's a few rude words if that sort of thing bothers you in your music.
The first is quite a modern example, and comes from the 2020 album 'Blue Hearts' by Bob Mould - who I shall be featuring several times on this blog.
It is called 'American Crisis'.
In an interview he describes the genesis of the song, which came out around the time of the death of George Floyd.
There's a new album, and the song that we're talking about is called "American Crisis," and the genesis of the song is a little over two years ago. I was writing material for a previous album called Sunshine Rock, and it was supposed to be sort of a happy record, and "American Crisis" was supposed to be the second-to-last song on that album, right before "Western Sunset."
I thought it was a little heavy at the time. I didn't think it fit with the sort of uplifting motif of being in Berlin and everything that that record was, so you know, I tabled those words and music, and when Jon Wurster and Jason Narducy and my engineer Beau Sorenson, the four of us got together in early February in Chicago to make what is this album coming up, and this song, "American Crisis," like I said, it's been around for a while. It really inspired the way that I've been looking at things the past nine months.
I think it was probably in late summer of last year, when I was in Berlin, I just started playing a lot of guitar and thinking about that song, and thinking about things that we three in the band had talked about, wouldn't it be great to make like a real raw, sort of punk-rock record because, you know, at the end of the day, that's how I tell stories. So I had "American Crisis" and I started writing around that song.
But in doing so, in September of last year, I started reflecting back and the way things were in late 1983, who was I then? You know, I was this 22-year-old kid in Minnesota, and I was in this punk-rock band called Hüsker Dü, and we traveled around the country spreading our message to people.
Things back then were tough. I was a closeted, gay young man. I was sort of living in this new world for a couple years with this gay cancer called "grid" and then called AIDS, and you know, sort of having a hard time figuring out my sexuality and if there was a community for me to fit into and if I felt comfortable in that community, alongside a lot of televangelists and people on the right, you know, sort of the Reagan backers at the time, telling me I'm less than, telling me this is God's punishment for who I am and how I live.
All of that kind of feeling marginalized, of feeling less than, I was feeling that coming back during this current administration. It seems as if this person was chosen to be the spokesperson for a pretty far branch of evangelism.
That's what got the ball rolling, was all of those things. I don't know if any of that makes sense, but that's sort of where all the strings led, and then I sort of had this, you know, pond that became an ocean of ideas.
With "American Crisis," it's crazy because those words fell out two years ago, and they just fell out on the page and I looked at them and I'm like, "I'm not touching these." These are the words, just the way they are, and to jump up to today as we're talking and things are happening in real time, it's not something I'd wanted to see, I certainly don't take any joy in having foreseen the country going in this direction. I wish that this was not happening, but here we are.
The other was recorded by Aimee Mann back in 2017 when Donald Trump was starting his first stint as President. It's just as relevant now - in fact even more so.
It is yet another classic Aimee Mann lyric and performance. Aimee Mann will also feature a lot in the year ahead.
Take a listen to 'Can't you tell?'
As always, what are the protest songs which spring to mind for you? Which are the most powerful?
Please add them to the Google Form below and I'll come back to this and share some of them in a future post.