Name: Orquesta Akokán
Interviewee: Mike Eckroth
Occupation: Keyboardist, arranger, composer
Current release: Orquesta Akokán's Caracoles is out via Daptone. Stream it here.
Recommendations: I’ll point to Arsenio as notable: Check out “Me Botè de Guaño.” Great solo by Lili Martinez.
The arranger pianist Perez Prado was a big influence in coming up with all these arrangements. He had it, even before having his band. Check out “Meneito Na Ma” which he did with Orquesta Casino de la Playa in the mid 1940s.

If you enjoyed this Orquesta Akokán interview and would like to know more, visit the group's official homepage. They're also on Instagram, and Facebook. Mike Eckroth also has his own website.

For the thoughts of Orquesta Akokán's producer, read our Jacob Plasse interview.



Where does the impulse to create something come from for you? What role do often-quoted sources of inspiration like dreams, other forms of art, personal relationships, politics etc play?

The biggest impulse to write, for me, is other music. I know that Jacob and me both have been able to point to the idea that we have thought “I want to do something as good as this” in regards to music that has informed and influenced us.

We could point to certain things we may have wanted to “sound like” with certain songs, and in a certain egotistical way it’s about creating something great, something notable. That's not to say other arts, disciplines, and current events aren’t an influence. I just don’t know if I can call them the thing that causes the impulse to create.

Speaking to the linguistic nature of music, and the idea that music can represent emotional states that transcend exact description in words, I'm not discounting the fact that world events, personal feelings about what we are doing and other influences affect the way the performances sound.

I distinctly remember how weird it was to record the first iteration of this music as the 2016 election results were being announced. That certainly affected the general vibe (at least in my head). I remember the feeling of wanting to reach a new level and introduce new and effective influences with our second album - that certainly gave impetus to write and create.

And most recently, I remember the real life struggle involved with re-constituting Akokán post-pandemic led to a flow of ideas and creativity. I don’t remember any sense of writer's block in composing the music for Caracoles between the three of us - the need to get it done was palpable.

As far as the lyrical content goes, political and personal considerations are limited by a certain adherence to the subject matter associated with 1950s era mambo music. You could ask Kiko about what he was thinking while writing, but I'd venture to say he was letting his own self and experiences color what he looks at as writing within a certain tradition.

There is an element of the “true life story” in certain songs like “Las 7 Vidas de Ines” for example.



Do you have certain rituals to get you into the right mindset for creating? What role do certain foods or stimulants like coffee, lighting, scents, exercise or reading poetry play?

As an arranger I’ve tried to challenge myself to not need too many specific things going on to be able to write. It’s mostly about putting myself in an environment where I have a chance to get something done. I don’t attempt to work when there is any noticeable distraction, for example when I'm at home with my kids I won’t even take my gear out.

Sometimes in my office at the university where I teach ill get a spare hour, at home after everyone’s asleep, or in a lot of cases I get my computer and midi keyboard out on the plane or in the airport terminal, plug my headphones in and start playing with ideas. It flows from there.

Again, the main part of the ritual is the deadline. That helps me get past the fact that I might not be in the mood to write at all, or I'm upset that I didn't like the ideas that are currently flowing. Usually when that happens it’s the following one that’s actually a good one, so it helps to not have a choice but to keep going.

If things start turning out, that motivates you to move to the next idea. If not, you still have the deadline to keep it moving.

What do you start with? And, to quote a question by the great Bruce Duffie: When you come up with a musical idea, have you created the idea or have you discovered the idea?

As writers we start with a general vibe, riff, reworking of some known music, or the recombination of diverse influences within or outside cuban music. Any of those base elements can generate a song. Then that song generates the arrangement, either as part of the writing process or as a matter of necessity for recording.

We often talk about Cuban music being modular, where it’s very easy to overlay rhythmic elements on top of each other and musical events follow a rule-based format. With that relative rigidity, there comes the ability to include all kinds of outside influences and still look at the music as being under the umbrella of Cuban music.

In that sense I think the line between discovery and creation is blurred. Literally every note in our performances has been played before, but never in this exact sequence. That's the beauty of it. What is ultimately creative is the way we’ve inserted such outside influences, effectively “discovering” how they will work inside Cuban music. I think Jacob speaks to that here when speaking of hearing Sonny Rollins and having an idea.

Often a tune idea starts with a widely different rhythmic concept which is then in performance sculpted into something that more closely fits the aesthetic of the band. The tune “Caracoles” is a good example of that. I think we’re allowed a lot of flexibility.



Many writers have claimed that as soon as they enter into the process, certain aspects of the narrative are out of their hands. Do you like to keep strict control or is there a sense of following things where they lead you?

To piggyback on what Jacob has written in his interview, I love the fact that even after months of working with and whittling down these tunes from a block of base material, the human, interpersonal element is the key factor and the magic sauce in what makes this music happen. I wouldn't have it any other way - not only are we being true to a long tradition of music-making but the results are just so much better than what would happen if it was just our ideas played verbatim.

We need improvisation, in-the-moment decision making and the ability to vary widely from an original idea by inserting an alternative.

I think the ultimate goal is so that my original arrangement ideas are so good that they don’t need reworking, but I'm happy to be not there yet. It’s the human, collaborative aspect that makes these recordings more than the proverbial sum of their parts.

There are many descriptions of the creative state. How would you describe it for you personally? Is there an element of spirituality to what you do?

As co-writer and then arranger of this music, the kind of creativity I'm using is a combination of practical decision making and letting the unconscious lead what happens next. It’s also an effort to both consciously and without apparent knowledge include outside influences.

While I am struggling with the parameters of an arrangement i.e.: what best supports the song dramatically and what sets it apart and keeps it interesting, I'll often struggle with such decision making. From time to time I just have to sit with it and not write anything while my mind does the work. That process in itself appears magical, since I'm effectively waiting for the correct idea to appear, and the appearance of that idea often leads the way.

Since a lot of this mid-century-style Cuban music is riff-based, one of the most difficult jobs is finding a simple riff that is in itself distinct, personalized and effervescent enough to lend itself to elaboration throughout an arrangement. from there ideas flow outward. You could pick the saxophone riff from any of the tunes on this new album and you would see that process unfold.

Sometimes those riffs were created as part of the initial writing process and sometimes they are written to support the tune later. Regardless, these primordial patterns are a distinctive part of the sound of Akokán.

After finishing a piece or album and releasing something into the world, there can be a sense of emptiness. Can you relate to this – and how do you return to the state of creativity after experiencing it?

For me personally, there might be such feelings but the emptiness is always filled with the next thing.

For instance the process of writing and arranging for an Akokán album might take several months and the recording only a few days, followed by mixing editing and such, but from that point it becomes an issue of how to recreate the music live, which involves paring down the size of the band and codifying what elements of the band not defined by the written arrangements will do. This is another process that involves both creativity and practicality.

The other thing that happens for me is that I'm always involved in multiple projects that have deadlines to contend with. That combined with the fact that akokan soon after the completion of one album is thinking ahead towards the next writing project means there is a certain amount of obligatory creativity that’s built into the whole thing.

Returning to the creative state isn’t such a task if you’ve structured it into what you do on a regular basis. At times you might struggle with what to do next - but at this point we’ve created avenues for new influences to come in. Going back to the period music that inspires this project also gets me excited about doing more with the genre, so that’s always a good trick for this music.