
VIA PRESS RELEASE | Craft Latino celebrates the 45th anniversary of ¡Que sentimiento!, the sixth studio album from legendary salsa singer Héctor Lavoe.
Marking Lavoe’s first and only self-produced album, the 1981 title features eight timeless salsa tracks, including “El son,” “No hay quien te aguante,” and “Soy vagabundo”—all of which are bolstered by lush arrangements from such esteemed figures as Luís Cruz, Louie Ramírez, and José Febles. Out of print for 45 years, ¡Que Sentimiento! arrives on 180-gram vinyl on October 2 and features all-analog (AAA) mastering.
A limited-edition Rojo Amor (Red Love) color pressing (only 300 copies) will also be available as a standalone or bundled with a Fania Classic Logo T-shirt at Fania.com. The remastered album will also be available in digital format, including Hi-Res audio for the first time.
One of salsa music’s greatest vocalists, Héctor Lavoe (1946–1993) was an influential force in the genre, thanks to his charming stage presence, impeccable delivery, and witty improvisations. Born Héctor Juan Pérez Martínez in Ponce, Puerto Rico, the artist relocated to New York City at 17, where he built a name for himself performing in bands led by Roberto García, Kako, and Fania Records founder Johnny Pacheco. It was through Pacheco that Lavoe met 16-year-old Willie Colón, with whom he would form one of Latin music’s most celebrated partnerships.


I would love to be able to say I wasn’t into hard rock back then, but I owned albums by Bad Company, UFO (UFO? Me? Inexplicable!), Robin Trower, and Foghat, so that’s sheer bunk. But there’s no point in crying over guilty milk, and it’s never too late to make up for past mistakes, that is, unless you’re Lee Harvey Oswald or that chimpanzee (name: Travis) who ripped a woman’s face off in 2009, and I’m neither of those personages.

Given how Hot Buttered Soul has consistently pulled in new listeners across a span of generations since its smash hit release, it can be easy to misplace the record’s reality as a groundbreaker. Featuring two songs on each side, the LP did something almost unheard of, hitting the marketplace without any accompanying singles; radio edits of “Walk on By” and “By the Time I Get to Phoenix” were subsequently issued (and charted) after the record’s unexpected success.









The Move takes a scattershot approach on Shazam, delving into art rock, classical rock, raga rock, and proto-metal, while also taking stabs at The Beatles and sixties folk rock. But their most important influence is the Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band, and that’s where things fall apart. The Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band kept whimsical tongue firmly planted firmly in dada cheek, but on Shazam The Move want to have it both ways. They wander into Stanshall/Innes territory on a couple of cuts, but for the most part, they play it straight. Shazam is a case of a split personality, and it’s too late for it to seek therapy.

















































