Yelfris Valdés: “From a very young age I was always told that music was born in me”

Yelfris Valdés was eight years old, newly enrolled at a classical music school in Havana, Cuba, when he was asked to choose an instrument from among those provided. He’d wanted to learn kit drums but they were already taken. Strings didn’t grab. When he picked up a trumpet that was it. He was smitten.

Now, aged 35, Valdés is one of the most sought-after trumpet players in the UK, his reputation as a versatile performer boosted by a CV that ranges from a stint with Grammy-nominated veterans Sierra Maestra to guest spots with Chucho Valdés, Moses Boyd and grime icon Kano to co-founding London-based Cuban-Iranian outfit Ariwo. An EP, The World of Eshu Dina, promised much. New debut album, For the Ones, released on the fledgling Musica Maconda label, delivers.

“I’ve brought my Afro-Cuban rhythms to a project that combines electronica with spoken word, Yoruba music and chants and music from Morocco and West Africa,” says Valdés, who arrived in London in 2014 after trying and rejecting New York as a base, and after touring with Sierra Maestra for a decade.

For The Ones is dedicated in part to Valdés’ ancestors, to his great-grandparents who came to Cuba as slaves, and to a lineage stretching back to Ghana, Nigeria and the Mali Empire. It’s also a paean to the deities that inform Valdés’ life, in his capacity as a practitioner of Santeria, the syncretic Afro-Cuban religion with roots in Yoruba/West African culture and follower of the darker, more shrouded (and macho hipster) Palo Mayombe, which originated in the Congo. The album opens with a musical nod to a Congolese spirit, and a tune dedicated to Eleggua, Valdés’ designated orisha, the trickster, the deity said to open the way.

Then come tracks that variously include lyrics sung in Arabic and pentatonic grooves on the three-string guimbri bass lute (from Moroccan Londoner Simo Lagnawi); a tune sung in Wolof by Senegalese Londoner Modou Touré (the son of iconic singer Ousman Touré); and electronics that vie and blend with Afro-Cuban stylings played on percussion, keys and, of course, trumpet. The result is hypnotic and tender, propulsive and cinematic. It’s a 21st century, London-centric take on a path forged by the likes of American trumpeter player and composer Jon Hassell who, along with Miles Davis and Wynton Marsalis, is one of Valdés’ heroes.

“I’m a big fan of Hassell’s ‘Fourth World’ concept, which brought together ideas from traditional music and minimalism with electronic manipulation of the trumpet. I’ve taken that idea from him and worked deeply to find a more layered sort of portrait sound, trancey and psychedelic with grounded rhythms.”

Researching new sonorities comes naturally, says Valdés, for whom the moody soundscapes of Ariwo, their harmonious mix of traditions and sounds, gave his creativity free rein. “Then I discovered the Cinematic Orchestra and the Hidden Orchestra, artists that vindicated the sort of thing I want to do with my solo career.

“I’ve always been curious,” he continues. “Whenever I’m touring I like to explore the traditional music of the countries I visit. In London there is everything, too. If I see a singer or musician I like I will suggest we collaborate. Simo Lagnawi was very open to introducing the trumpet into his Gnawa music. I caught Modou performing at Jam In a Jar (in Green Lanes, N8) and was blown away by his world class voice. Cubans and Africans are brothers, so we hit it off. The overall sound developed as we went along.”

It’s a sound pulsing with Afro-Cuban rhythms – from drum-driven arara with its roots in Benin, to Amerindian-derived guaguanco – and delivered through an electronic lens. The trumpet playing is deft, effects-laden, unifying. In the same way that Norwegian jazz trumpeter Nils Petter Molvær enjoys a fruitful collaboration with Jamaican reggae superheroes Sly & Robbie (Valdés dedicates the track ‘After Sly’ to ever dexterous drummer Sly Dunbar), and mindful of Don Cherry’s work with Gnawa musicians such as Hassan Hakmoun, Valdés’ instrument is a horn of many colours, nuanced and poetic, strident and powerful.

Little wonder, perhaps, that Madonna snapped Valdés up to guest on her (under-par) Eurovision performance. “It’s on my CV,” he shrugs. “I didn’t put my hand up to go on the tour. I am happy doing what I am doing. I didn’t want to lose momentum.”

Valdés’ long-term goal is to represent his country on a global stage, not with the sepia-tinted Buena Vista styles typically associated with Cuba, but by showcasing the experimental, boundaries-down aesthetic associated with the alternative scene – from jazz and hip-hop to electronic music and beyond – concealed inside the official image. A wildly successful album launch at London’s Jazz Cafe in mid-October marked him out as a player, composer and bandleader on the cusp of stardom. Which wouldn’t surprise his ancestors: “From a very young age I was always told that music was born in me.”

This article originally appeared in the December 2019 / January 2020 issue of Jazzwise. Never miss an issue – subscribe today!