World Music News Wire

The origins of Latin roots music ensemble Sol y Canto are in musical hope-making. Founders Brian and Rosi Amador's musical collaboration began when they joined a peace expedition to Nicaragua; U.S. artists going to perform and to witness what was really happening there in the 1980s. "We were struck by so many people living in extreme poverty, in dangerous and horrible conditions," says composer and guitarist Brian, "and still they were able to smile and laugh and dance and sing." The couple fell in love on that trip and committed themselves not only to coming home and telling fellow Americans what was happening in Nicaragua, but in carrying on the message of hope in adversity.

That spirit lives on with their latest recording, Cada Día un Regalo (Each Day a Gift). The album combines original compositions about social justice and love—including a precious lullaby written for the Amadors' twin daughters—with a couple of hand-selected classics from Latin America and Cuba. The overall effect is inspirational, as if Eckhart Tolle—the Oprah-endorsed self-help philosopher who advocates living in the moment—joined Nueva Canción, the 1960s and '70s pan-Latin movement that united poetry, music-making, and grassroots social consciousness. None of this is new for Sol y Canto.

"We make music that is authentic, that speaks to people and connects us," says Brian, who was born and raised in New Mexico. "It's like when people turned on the radio in Chile and heard songs in English, and said, 'That does not reflect our reality.' It's about people taking up musical arms to express their own realities, not the reality being fed to us."

Upon their return from Nicaragua, the Amadors made a name playing at benefits and demonstrations for America's Latin American solidarity movement. Out of that came their life mission of sharing the cultures of Latin America and bringing together audiences that include a diversity of people of Latino descent and those of other heritages.

Along the way, Sol y Canto built a dedicated base of fans who tell profound stories of the effect of the Amadors' music. One man buys every album they release, remembering that their first cassette in 1986 saved his marriage. "He came up to me at an intermission and held my hands," remembers Rosi, the group's lead singer. "He said 'I was commuting far away from my wife. I would play your album, and this is what kept my marriage together. I listened to those lyrics and I knew we would make it through an incredibly rough spot.' I was in tears by the end of the conversation."

Another fan called and said "I want you to know how much your music means to me. My child has a developmental disability and the only thing she responds to is music, specifically your CD. She is able to focus and look at me and be happy and listen to what I say. It is so clear that it is your voices, your rhythms. Everything you put into the CD."

Sol y Canto walks a fine line between the exotic and the familiar. Is it Latin music or folk music? Is this a Buddhist message or a universal one? Their concerts draw diverse crowds; Latinos of all backgrounds, and non-Latinos alike. "Ultimately, I feel the most important thing is the connection," says Rosi, who moved to the mainland U.S. from Puerto Rico as a teenager. "The connection between what we are singing and as often as possible, the universal message. Everyone can relate to these messages, no matter where they came from."

"Woody Guthrie famously said that he hates any song that makes you feel like you are nothing," says Brian. "Music is something that exists at the core of everybody. That's where it's coming from: something that everybody can share."