NPR Music - Alt.Latino: A Tejano masterclass with El Gato Negro, Ruben Ramos

Episode Date: June 10, 2026

Ruben Ramos' life story mirrors the history of what we now know as Tejano music. His family's musical roots in Texas go back to 1918, and as a boy he was brought into the family bands, first as a drummer and then as a vocalist. He's been playing big band-inflected Tejano music now for more than six decades, and just released a tribute album tracing that musical lineage, called 'Los Días de Calor.' In this episode, Felix chats with "El Gato Negro" Ramos about the history of Tejano music across the twentieth century, and how his own story fits inside of it. This podcast episode was produced by Noah Caldwell. Suraya Mohamed is the executive producer of NPR Music.See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for sponsorship and to manage your podcast sponsorship preferences.NPR Privacy Policy

From NPR music, this is All Latino. I'm Felix Contreras. Anna Maria Cere is away, so this week we're going to spend time with Tejano music legend, Ruben Ramos. When I say legend, I don't use that lightly. He has been playing.

big band fuel Tejano since 1960. But get this, his family's connection to music in Texas goes back over 100 years to 1918. I talked to him about the release of a tribute album that just came out called Los Dias de Calor. And as you'll hear from our conversation, his life story is basically the history of what we know as Tejano music, reflection of the bicultural existence along the border throughout Texas and in the entire southwest. And as we started talking, he told me about how he started in music and what life was like for Mexicans and Mexican Americans in Texas in the 1940s and 50s. First of all, I was introduced to music out in the cotton fields in the country. We used to live in the country out in between two prisons out there in between Sugarland and Richmond.

And my first introduction to music was my mama playing guitar, my dad, playing fiddle, and a neighbor playing accordion at somebody at Hernandez's house. or not our house because we didn't, we lived in a shack. So it had to be somebody else's house where they take out all the furniture out of the living room and my dad and my mama and Basilio in the corner, three chairs and people dancing in the circle

in the living room. No, I can reserve my sentiments. No I want to you to be to me. Those pensaries they despide, they're despid, So that was my first introduction, I was about four or five years old, you know. But after that we were basically migrant cotton pickers living off the land, picking cotton, picking cotton, wherever.

So I was introduced with a big band, it was like 13-piece, orca'sa in a living room, you know. Now eventually, his uncles would bring young Rubin to gigs along the bars in Sixth Street in Austin. And if you know Austin, you know that Sixth Street is still a musically active street. But back then, the bars had slightly different names. So they were playing down Sixth Street at La Vola de Oro, whatever, 609 bar. And I would take along.

I played one song, drums with them, you know. One of my uncles said, play drums, but come to play drums. I don't know how to play drums. This is an easy one. This is Sobres lasolas, like, I said, I think I can do that, you know, the bass drum, so I basically played drums with them. So there was my introduction to the big band.

And to me, this was like the era that was born. To me, Tejano is another label that I'm not crazy about. Because when I started singing with my brothers, it was Chicano. We were Chicano, you know. Now, this is the point in the timeline when Tejano or Chicano music in Texas became an authentic bicultural phenomenon, as Ruben Ramos explains. The big band era is, you know, in the 20s, 30s, the 40s, you know. And they had a 13-piece orchestra.

Tommy Dorsey, Jimi, Glenn Miller, Count Basie. So they were emulating those big bands, which was Charleston, the DeJure Borg, the swing, you know. And that was what they would play. So this was the Mexican-American community or the Tejano or Chicano community. that was absorbing the influences from the mainstream for community, from the white community, and then mixing it with Mexican music? Yeah. What about outside of music?

Did the Tejano community, the Latino community, did it mix, did it integrate with the mainstream community, or were they separated? It was separated, you know. I mean, as far as I know, because I was a kid, but like I said, my uncles were playing for dances for Mexicans. you know, and playing polkas and whatever, you know. But in the beginning, at the very beginning, in the 20s and the 30s, and the early 40s, they were playing, emulating, like I say, the big bands.

They were popular in Glenn Miller and stuff. But after a while, they started, their fan base was Mexicans, you know. What was heard on the radio back then for people who were speaking Spanish? What was being played on the radio versus what was being played for? the English speakers on the radio back then. Most of the registration was the accordion, Bago Sexto, whatever, you know. And by that time, you know,

Beto Villa, you could start here in Beto Villa. Juan Colorado, you know, Chris And Duval. Those bands were just born, so they came in the play, and they were playing their, They're Mexican. Tejano was not Tejano at then. Right.

Tejano was born in 1985, something like that. I'm very fascinated about, like, there's not a lot of history written about that era of, like you said, the 20s, 30s and 40s about how the Latino community, the Tejano community absorbed the mainstream culture. it didn't go the other way around. Like, it's almost like the mainstream culture, the gringo or the white community, didn't know much about the Mexican community. There were separate, you know, with some segregation going on in Texas.

A whole bunch of that, yes. But it didn't stop the Latino musicians from just absorbing all the stuff and incorporating it into their own sounds. Exactly, exactly. But in the early, on those days, you know, you heard a lot of the accordion, and Hibago Sexto and stuff.

There wasn't not a lot of orchestras, Mexicans' orchestras. My uncles, to me, was my first introduction to that, you know. Where did they play? Were they in bars, cantinas, family parties? Like, where were they playing? A lot of parties, like weddings, you know. You know, in salones, early style salones, whatever, you know.

But at the end, at the end of the era, like in the fifth when I was the kid, you know, they were playing at the cantinas, you know. Yeah, it wasn't all that big gas band like you used to. So they couldn't down to maybe three saxophones or whatever down. Because it was hard to carry commute, say, go play in Wago, 13-piece orchestra. and three cars, three or four cars or whatever, you know, to carry all those instruments and stuff. So it was a time at the end of the era where, you know, yeah,

yeah, there were you at the end of your career, kind of speaking, where you wander playing in bars and stuff, you know. Just like my brother, like my brother, Alfonso, he passed away, may rest in peace, you know. At the end, yeah, he didn't have the big orchestra. He had him and another trumpet and the bass, guitar and bass and bass and drums, you know, and that's it. He was kind of playing, you know, parties, small cafes, you know.

And that's kind of the track or the way the uncles were playing at the end of the 50s. A very condensed history of DeHano, it's, you know, from the perspective of Texas musician Ruben Ramos. And after we take a break, his own history and how he became a well-known part of Texas music. And we're back with Ruben Ramos as he moves from Tejano history to his own history. Music saved my life. Let's put it that way.

Music saved my life. So I was in about 13, 14, I was going the wrong way. I was hanging around with the wrong crap. out. My brothers were trying to convince me to go with them to play at a wedding, play wherever, no, get me away from where I was going, you know. And finally they decided they succeeded in convincing me to go with them. And I went and the scenery and the environment over there was a lot prettier than where I was

going, pretty girls and man. It was the whole different scene, so I didn't go back to where I was over here. I started playing, and my brother said, come on, man. When they convinced, come on, what do I do? Play Maracas.

You know, so I started playing Maracas, you know, boleros and mambos and whatever. And as it went on, the drummer would want to go dance with a pretty girl, or maybe we want to go get a beer. And he would say, come on, play this drum. And it was like the same speed, same type of rhythm,

like a waltz, you know. And I would start playing the drum like a waltz. And that's why I started playing drums, maybe a polka later on, whatever. and the drummer was very perlusquilla. Always kind of late, getting there.

And there was no roadist then, Vato. You know, you carry your own equipment, you carry your own drums, and you get there whenever, you know, when you need to get there, you know. So there was one big wedding that I was, I went to, was playing Maracas,

and one o'clock was started in the afternoon, you know, and the drama wasn't there. So, the piano said, well, let's play without the drums. We played the first set

without the drums. Finally, the drama gets there after intermission. So two weeks later, I'm working here in my job, as a surface grinder for lenses and stuff. And my brother comes

on a Saturday morning about 10 o'clock in the morning and they're like, hey, can you come outside? You know, I want to show you something. So I asked my boyfriend, boss, yeah, go, go ahead.

So I went outside and in the station wagon in the back, he had a brand new grudge set of drums. I said, wow, Janice got some brand new drums, man, wow. No, no, those are your drums, brother. I said, my drums? Yeah, you're going to play drums tonight. Just like that. From playing polka and waltz, whatever,

to jumping in the ring and orderly. Just you start playing. And incidentally, we were playing in Lockhart. It was a two-band thing at the Lockhart. Isidro Lopez and Alfonso Ramos. And I was a drummer for Alfonso Ramos. And Ciro Lopos was a big orchestra and big popular orchestra. So I was throwing in the ring like that,

and I've learned to play drums just by playing the next gig, playing the next key and listening to, listening to, you know, Mexicano drummers or whatever, you know. And that's the way I learned. That's the way we all learn. You know, all of us brothers, my sister, you just jumped in and threw us in the ring and vamunas.

So when you started playing in the 50s and then you started contributing more to the sound, did you start suggesting to play more R&B music? and different types of music? When I started playing drums, I was still in high school. So I was 19. So I was 19 years old, 11th grade,

and now he made friends and stuff, and I was playing drums, my brother, and we were playing for the sock-ops. I always asked my friends, come up, why don't you come over here, man, we listened to the band, you know, because I thought I was a badass drummer, you know, in my mind, I'll tell you right now.

And as I wanted them to come, hear me play drums, basically, you know. I said, well, we'd like to go, but your brother only sings in Spanish, and we don't understand them. I said, wow, okay. So I went to my brother, you know, next day or whatever, next week I told my brother, Fonzoon, why don't you learn a couple of English sounds, man? So my friends can come and hear us. So he puts a finger on my chest, if you want English, you sing it.

So I said, how am I going to sing and keep a beat, you know, with the drums, you know? So, Seagrillo, again, the thing in Stoley is saying, you want English, you sing it. So damn, I said, well, okay. Little later on, Fest, I'm going to come out with Blueberry Hill. Blueberry I've found my thrill. I practiced that thing for about two months and brought it to my brother.

There was my first song in English, live on stage, you know, Blueberry Hill. And from there, I picked up, I started, Agare Correntia. For a day with Rachel's, little Richard. I could emulate all those because I was young and I had my voice.

I could emulate their voice, you know. So I was a singer for the next nine years, English singer. What was the situation with the segregation back then, where the black and Tejano communities, were they close? Did they get separated even amongst themselves, apart from the white community? Like, what was your relationship?

with other black musicians? I was, like, how can I say this? We were more close, real close to the black community. I was, like I said,

I was emulating and singing all this soul music, rhythm and blues music. So I was, we were playing at the Charlie's Playhouse. We were playing at the Doris Millard auditorium, and we were playing at the, The chicken shack, you know, which all was black clubs, but yeah, and Dorsey Miller is an auditorium, you know.

And it was all for black people. We were playing for the black community also because I sang in English. I was, we were playing for the University of Texas, you know, fraternities, you know, during the week, you know, because I was singing in English, you know. Willie Boolean, whatever, whatever was pop. But then, you know, I would go get it and learn it. And, man, we were popular as far as the white over here, you know, me sing in English, you know. So we were singing for the black, we were singing for the whites and the fraternities. We were singing for our Mexicans, you know.

So the band was really popular then. Ruben Ramos counted on the lead vocal duties full time in Texas music. And to reflect the Chicano power movement happening in the southwest back then, they called their band The Mexican Revolution, a cultural reference that echoed other bands like Azteca, Malo, and El Chicano. It's important to note here that while the names may have been similar, the music was very different. Now, while Santana and the other California bands all had Mexican-American or Chicano members, the music relied heavily on the Afro-Caribbean rhythms being used by the Fania Records label. Texas Chicano music was fueled by big band horns, accordions, mariachi strings,

and the German and Austrian waltzes and polkas heard in music from the Texas-Mexico border. The only problem was all of that music was written and performed in Spanish. Ruben Ramos was from a generation that was raised mostly speaking English. So he had to learn the songs by listening to them on records, sometimes with unexpected results. So consequently, I murdered a few Mexicano songs, you know, because you know, I comprehendia el Español, because I wasn't speaking in Spanish at all, period. I was out here in school, in my everyday life I was talking in English, singing in English. And then to jump from English to La de Monio Colorado.

La Delmonio Colorado, me try to everyone around. I was singing, La Demoio Colorado. Which, I mean, I sang that for, I don't know how many years to my father. Wait, wait. Wait, wait, explain how that translates. Okay. I didn't know that, I didn't know then. A new demon, demon, demonio is demon, colorado, so they're kind of rhymes.

So that's what, the demon, monio, so that's what, the demonio, said my father, my, my, my, my, my, my, go, no. How you're saying, for the demonio? No, no, my sono. What is that? That monio is a nice, beautiful bow in the girls here, you know. La del moño,

cures me trai to be maria. Makes sense. But I was murdering this song for, I don't know how long, you know, because I didn't know Spanish and unbeknownst to me. And I was murdering the song.

I was murdering the song. Another song was, You know what red? It's like a network, like a net. Yeah, it's like a net, right? Yeah. Yo sera la res. What is res?

Meat, right? Yeah. Cow, whatever. That's what I was singing. But no, because no, no comprehend the words, you know. So I'm not, I'm not, I'm not, Papua was telling you that was merging songs, but I was, you know, till now, even now, I'm singing a ranchero, whatever, I don't know the word, I look it up, see what I'm saying.

Let's talk about the album, the tribute albums, produced by Kerry Rodriguez and Sergio Mendoza. We've talked a lot about the history of Tejano music in this conversation, going back many, many years. And this album seems to be not just a reflection of your history, but also a reflection of Tehano music, because there's Mariachi, there's Walts, there's Cumbia, there's even a country tune that Ray Charles did. How do you feel about this record bringing all of this together in one spot? It was done by Kerry and Sergio. It was like, you know, bring disco. Okay, so some of the songs I wrote,

some of the songs I already recorded, most of the songs I already recorded in my prior years with my band, da-da, you know. And we recorded this in a different subtle way. But Sergio and Kerry, in other words, kind of bring the music that can relate to. to my upbringing my childhood, cotton pick and, you know,

Los years of the color, you know, they're the ones I put in a couple of lines or the other ones that wrote. That's that song to fit my life. I was in the land Dierra Duque, I worked in the camp of albodon with my parents and five You know,

Rodeado of T'Oamom You know, the album is not only a look back on Rubon's But it also a musical lesson on the styles and sub-genres' lesson on the styles and sub-genres that eventually became known collectively as dehano. So with where you are now, with the record and some performances with Carrie, like what's next? What's next on the horizon for you? Music has been a journey.

What's next? Whatever it takes me, you know. Am I going to change whatever? No, I'm going to keep playing, recording with my band, whatever. I'm going to support the CD as far as I can and start performing it. I'm going to go forward with it and I embrace it and go with it. That new tribute album from Ruben Ramos is called Los Dias de Calor, and it's out right now. Thanks a ton to Rubin for taking the time to tell his story and the story of Tejano music.

You have been listening to Alt Latino from NPR Music. Our audio editor is Noah Caldwell, executive producer is Soraya Mohamed, and Sonali Mehta is executive director of NPR Music. And as always, we love hearing from you guys. If you enjoyed this episode, leave us a review on Apple or Spotify or wherever you're listening. and send us an email. Let us know what you're listening to these days. Alt Latino at npr.org. I'm Felix Contreras. Thank you so much for listening.