Willie Colón, legendary trombonist and pioneer of salsa music, has passed away. He was 75 years old.
His death on Saturday was confirmed in a Facebook post by his former manager, Pietro Carlos.
In recent days, news about the singer's condition has circulated online. Yonkers Voice News reported that Colon was admitted to NewYork-Presbyterian Westchester Hospital in Bronxville, NY, on Tuesday with breathing problems and appeared frail.
Born William Anthony Colón Román on April 28, 1950, to Puerto Rican parents in New York City, Colón first took up the trumpet in school. It seemed like a natural choice for the bugle-playing former Boy Scout, who attended the youth program at the suggestion of his grandmother.
“So I can learn to be a good boy,” Colón said in a 1988 interview with the Associated Press.
By age 13, Colón had formed a band and played a few weddings and the bustling nightclubs of New York City. In a moment, he forged a cabaret carda mandatory identification for musicians and artists between 1940 and 1967 who worked in establishments that served alcohol, which required people to be 18 years old or older.
The exciting Latin music scene of 1960s New York consumed Colón, who was deeply inspired by the Latin jazz pioneer and bandleader. Eddie Palmieriwho was once part of a headlining act at the Palladium Ballroom and later formed La Perfecta, a Cuban group set which revolutionized the New York Latin music scene with the inclusion of two trombones, played by Barry Rogers and José Rodríguez, instead of the expensive four-set trumpets.
But Colón's instrumental preference changed once he heard the full-bodied timbre of Mon Rivera's trombone brass ensemble marching to the rhythm of thebomba. “It would blow my mind,” Colón said in a 1988 interview with the Associated Press, prompting the singer to teach himself how to play the instrument.
At age 15, Colón signed with Fania Records. Two years later, at age 17, he released his debut album, “El Malo,” a record that defined the fierce sounds of the New York salsa scene, which Colón later described as the Latin equivalent of rap.
According to his ex labelThe name “El Malo” was bestowed upon Colón by older musicians seeking to mock his trombone range at the time, although the young band leader would find a way to use the label to his advantage.
On the LP, Colón's sound moved away from the polished mambo sounds of orchestral bands decades earlier, largely due to Puerto Rican singer Héctor Lavoe, whose voice can be heard on tracks like the gutsy “El Malo” that promises to knock out any would-be street poser.
The couple would go on to record a total of 14 albums until 1973, with Lavoe's talent for improvisation complementing Colón's raw and aggressive trombone.
“Salsa arose from the same type of situation as rap,” Colón said in a 1992 interview with The Times. “It was kind of a hybrid of a lot of different elements. Hector had just come from Puerto Rico and didn't speak English. I didn't speak much Spanish, I was a little kid from New York. We got together and started with the same kind of irreverent, rebellious attitude, writing songs about the baddest guy on the block, drugs and sex. Before that, the lyrics and the whole attitude of Latin music was: 'Look at me dancing, listen to those drums, I'm cutting sugar cane.' It was a rural emphasis and folkloric; we changed it to a kind of inner-city culture.”
Columbus' impact went beyond live music. The album cover for “El Malo,” which featured two serious profiles of Colón, depicted the singer as a cunning bad boy and ultimately gave rise to his gangster persona, which would be a common thread in future projects, including his 1968 second album, “The Hustler,” which featured the band wearing tight suits, smoking cigars and placing bets in a pool hall. His 1970 album, “Cosa Nuestra,” featured Colón smoking a cigar while staring at a dead body in broad daylight on Manhattan's East River Bikeway. The most famous is his 1971 album, “The Great Escape,” which featured the singer on a fake FBI poster that read “Most Wanted.”
These mafia depictions occurred long before cult films like Francis Ford Coppola's 1972 “The Godfather” and Brian De Palma's 1983 “Scarface” became the prominent gangster stories that various male acts revere in their music.
In 1973, Colón and Lavoe separated. allegedly due to Lavoe's drug addiction, which caused him to miss many concerts, although the two would remain frequent collaborators until the latter's death in 1993 due to complications from AIDS.
The Nuyorican musician would introduce Blades as the new singer of his orchestra, whom he had met years before while visiting Panama during the carnivals. They collaborated briefly on Colón's 1975 LP, “The Good, the Bad, the Ugly,” cementing their partnership on the 1977 album “Metido Mano,” which delved into sociopolitical themes, especially his song “Pablo Pueblo“, which shares the story of a working-class man with broken dreams stopped by the fatigues of daily life. Other tracks, such as “Plantation Inside,” detail the story of Camilo Manrique, a fictional enslaved character who died at the hands of a Spanish colonizer in 1745.
Many considered this album to be Colón's first foray into intellectual salsa, largely thanks to Blades, who had a story telling ability and political interests (he ran unsuccessfully for president of Panama in 1994), which addressed colonialism and class disparities. Together they released three albums, including 1978's “Siembra,” one of the best-selling salsa albums at the time; from the beginning, his track”Plastic” fused the popular disco music of the day while addressing superficial beauty standards and colorism in Latin America.
According to a 1996 report in The Times, “Siembra” offered pulsing salsa rhythms that “carried messages of freedom at a time when most of Latin America was oppressed by military dictatorships.”
In 1982, Blades and Colón broke up, but collaborated again on projects such as their 2005 LP “Tras La Tormenta,” which led the band leader to sing for the first time in his career: “I had to start from scratch and it took me many years to feel comfortable,” Colón said.
This newfound independence gave rise to some of Colón's most famous songs, including his 1995 song “Talento de Televisión,” an upbeat song with his trademark trombone howling in the background as he sang about an attractive woman with a lack of talent.
Many in Latin America might be familiar with her 1989 song “El Gran Varon,” which tells the story of a trans woman who is rejected by her father and presumably dies of AIDS, a landmark salsa song that raised awareness of LGBTQ+ issues during the AIDS crisis. Colón would later serve as a member of the Latino Commission on AIDS. “El Gran Varon” is a hymn to this day.
Colón released more than 40 albums in total.
He also acted, taking on roles in films such as 1982's “Vigilante,” the 1983 sports drama “The Last Fight,” as well as one-episode stints on television shows such as “Miami Vice” and “The Cosby Show.” He even appeared in Bad Bunny's “Nuevayol” music video, cutting a piece of cake; The 31-year-old superstar pays tribute to the singer in his lyrics: “Willie Colón, they call me the bad guy, hey. Because the years go by and I keep hitting” / “Willie Colón, they say I'm bad, because the years go by and I keep hitting.”
In his later years, he became more involved in politics. In 1994, he unsuccessfully faced U.S. Rep. Eliot Engel of the Bronx in the Democratic primary. He also ran as Democratic Public Advocate in 2001, focusing on community issues, education, and AIDS awareness, but failed to win the popular vote. In 2008, he endorsed Hillary Rodham Clinton against Barack Obama in the primary elections.
On May 26, 2014, after graduating from the Westchester County Police Academy, Colón was sworn in as a deputy sheriff with the Department of Public Safety and later became a deputy lieutenant.
When President Trump took office for his first term, Columbus's policy changed in support of the right-wing candidate, and said he would be willing to act at his inauguration in 2017.
Billboard magazine named him one of the Most influential Latin artists of all time. in 2018. Colón's death sparked an outpouring of condolences across the Latin music world.
Oscar D'León, a Grammy-nominated salsa artist, frequently performed alongside Colón as the genre rose to international fame. He hailed Columbus as the architect of the genre.
“How difficult it is to say goodbye to a giant! Today salsa mourns the death of my great brother and colleague, Willie Colón,” D'León wrote in Spanish on Instagram.
“Willie, you leave an indelible legacy in each of us. That trombone of yours, with its rebellious and unique sound, forever changed the history of our Latin music. As a trombonist you created a school, but as a composer and arranger you were an absolute genius, a true architect of salsa. You are and will always be one of the greatest pillars of our genre.”
Grupo Niche, the legendary Colombian salsa orchestra, was one of many Latin American musical groups that praised Colón's contribution to salsa music, extolling him as “an absolute icon of our culture.”
“Songs that marked generations, stories that became anthems and an artistic force that transformed salsa forever,” said a post on the orchestra's Instagram.
Marc Anthony, the best-selling salsa singer of all time and an admirer of Colón, also offered a brief tribute on Instagram.
“Teacher“Thank you for your legacy,” Anthony wrote in Spanish alongside a photo of the two performing together. “Your music will live forever.”
Colón is survived by his wife, Julia Colón, and his four children and grandchildren.
Times staff writer Tony Briscoe contributed to this report.
