But they dance…

A Pugliese tanda that didn’t work

After COVID, I developed a new appreciation for Pugliese’s music. I used to sit out those long, emotional Tandas, but now, if they’re well-timed, I’ll happily jump onto the floor.

I was in a milonga the other night, which wasn’t very full. The mood was flat. And then came the first song of a Tanda—Cascabelito by Pugliese, with Maciel on vocals. Under different circumstances, my head would be spinning like a cartoon scanning the room to find a partner. This time, though, I wasn’t quite feeling it. So I stayed seated just to enjoy listening.

The next song started. Corrientes y Esmeralda, same orchestra, but with Chanel on vocals. And my reaction changed entirely. I suddenly felt grateful I hadn’t gotten up to dance. Something felt off. Very off.

If you know Pugliese’s orchestra well, you probably understand why. The two songs come from different eras, with different singers, different sounds, and emotional textures. It’s hard to imagine a smooth transition between them, and placing them back-to-back in a Tanda can feel jarring, almost like switching moods mid-sentence.

I won’t go into technical detail here, but I’ll just ask:
Are you the same person you were ten years ago?

Because that’s roughly the difference between these two recordings—Corrientes from 1944, Cascabelito from 1955. If we change so much over time as individuals, imagine how much an entire orchestra does. The expectation that two such different tracks can create a consistent dance experience seems… optimistic at best.

I’ve danced to these tandas before…

This isn’t the first time I’ve heard such unexpected pairings by this and some other DJs. And yes, I’ve danced them. I’ve even been drawn in by a first song, only to feel a mismatch as the Tanda progressed. Out of courtesy to my partner, I kept going. But I wasn’t enjoying it.

And I never said anything to the DJ. Not directly. I know others have, and the response they received was something like:
“You’re just one person complaining. Everyone else was dancing and having a good time.”

It’s true. Most people were dancing. I’ve been one of them. I may have even unknowingly reinforced that assumption: “If they’re dancing, the Tanda must be fine.”

But here’s a thought:

What if we allowed ourselves to stop a Tanda by mutual agreement, when both partners feel the music isn’t working? And even more radically, what if we talked to the DJ about it?

The feedback filter

Giving feedback on something someone creates, especially something as personal as a DJ’s musical selection, is hard. I get it. I’ve written about it, and I’ve felt it. I have received tons of feedback on this blog, and I felt that sting when someone questions your choices… the temptation to respond defensively.

But over time, I’ve learned to ask:
“Where is this feedback coming from?”
“Is there something useful in it?”

Sometimes feedback is vague, emotional, or biased. But sometimes it comes from someone who’s just listening differently and can offer a valuable perspective. Over time, I realised that when the person giving the feedback has sound and solid arguments with specific explanations, you may need to pay attention. Even more so if the language they use shows some deeper knowledge on the subject.

It’s a different thing different thing discussing with someone who tells you… “I find this song boring”, but doesn’t know the why, and a different thing when the person can explain the why by basing the arguments on the arrangement of the song or other details. In one case, you are discussing based on a sensation… and in the other case, based on facts that create this sensation.

“But they’re dancing…” might not be the best feedback

Let’s come back to that common defence:
“But people are dancing.”

Yes. But why are they dancing? What are they dancing to? Are they responding to the music being played, or simply dancing out of habit, social expectation, or because they hear something else in their heads?

As DJs, I think there’s a responsibility to notice which dancers are musically sensitive. The ones who move differently to Di Sarli vs. D’Arienzo. The ones who light up when the music aligns with their mood. These dancers can be your compass.

Of course, if you’re not attuned to these differences yourself, if you dance to every orchestra in the same way, you might miss the nuance. It takes one to know one. And if that’s the case, then feedback from those who do hear these differences is even more valuable. You just need to be open to listening to it and examining it without dismissing it directly with shallow arguments.

Final thought

This isn’t meant to shame or accuse anyone. It’s just a reflection from someone who cares deeply about the music and the experience of dancing to it. I hope it’s received in that spirit. Nobody is born a Tango dancer or a DJ. We all learn it, and sometimes listening to some feedback, even if it hurts our ego, might be useful.

As someone once told me:
“If you want to become better at anything, surround yourself with people who notice what others don’t.”

And then, listen to them.

Tonights Goodnight Tango

Tonight’s Goodnight Tango is a song that expresses this emotional disconnection from something when time has passed. It mirrors the feeling of a Tanda that doesn’t emotionally cohere. The second song reminded nothing of the first one to create this coherent emotional taste. And it also reminds us that a place, a person or even an orchestra might not be the same after years.

How about you? Have you ever danced to such incoherent tandas? Have you ever given feedback to the DJ? And if you are a DJ… how do you “measure” if a tanda was coherent enough or not? Have you ever received such feedback? Did you pay attention to it?

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