Bobby Oroza
Where are you from/where are you now?
I was born and raised in Finland, where I’m still located.
One question that has been pecking at my brain since I learned of you: Besides your family, is there a sizeable Latin American presence in Finland? Were you raised speaking Spanish?
The Latin community is not huge, but it’s rather active. We used to go to Spanish-speaking daycare and so on. Pretty much everyone knows each other’s families, I guess (laughs). There are quite a few musicians and artists from South America, though, that settled in Finland. This crew was there when I was growing up, and that was very fortunate, I think because I got to learn a lot from various Latin styles of music.
Is it safe to say you've been born into music? With your jazz musician father, Antti Nordin, and your mother, Siboné Oroza, a renowned tango singer & poet from Bolivia, I'd be surprised if anyone in your household would be able to avoid any musical influence. Your step-siblings, Reino & Siiri Nordin, are deeply involved in the Finnish music scene. Your sister Franka Oroza is a singer-songwriter and the force behind Franka Oroza & Few (she's a hell of an architect too) - so we know they weren't able to dodge the music bug.
Yeah, you can safely say I was born into music. Music was and still is around all the time. It’s what we are and do.
Your whole vibe gives an 'old soul' energy. I'm not just referring to the music genre, but more or less, that feeling that 'you've been here before'’ Vintage without the staleness. Sharp & polished, your throwback aesthetic fits your nostalgic sound. Crisp might be the right word. Was there a specific experience or moment that you bonded with, where your personality found its outward expression & look? Was this intentional - to fuse the look with the sound?
I think I’ve always been drawn to yesterday what comes aesthetics. This is not to say I’m a Luddite, since I’m really into contemporary sounds and looks as well, and sci-fi and everything. I guess it has to do with the influences I grew up with too. My parents’ record collection, for instance, and a lot of ‘classic* literature and visual arts on the shelves and walls. (I’m referring mostly to 20th-century stuff here.) Modernism and the great movements that broke and reshaped the conformity and hierarchies. It also comes down to my objection towards contemporary mass consumerism and what I sometimes see as uniformity. Cars all look the same and all that.
Speaking of vintage sounds: we are both fans of Latin & Soul music of yesteryear. If you could hop in a time machine and go back to jump on stage with your two favorite soul artists/musicians and your two favorite Latin music artists/musicians for a crazy 5-hour gig, who would they be? (They don't have to be deceased, either.)
My dream gig, man…the night would start with acts like Joe Brown and The Soul Eldorados, Sunny Ozuna, Little Jr. Jesse, and His Teardrops. Mike Adame would bring in his raw barrio energy. Then Vivian Copeland would take the stage with Irma Thomas and Little Ann. And now the Fania All-stars would settle in, and Joe Bataan, Ralfi Pagan, and Celia Cruz would take care of what’s left of the crowd (laughs). Along these lines.
Cuba holds a special place in your heart. You spent a few months there in your late teens, and it changed your worldly perspective. Please give us a rundown of a normal day of activity in Santiago for you, from morning to night.
Bobby’s average day in Cuba:
Rise at noon.
Getting rid of yesterday’s fumes with a cold shower and a hearty breakfast rich in calories. Prepared with extraordinary creativity and skill by the sweet old lady Blanquita and her daughters. I lived with them for the whole period and will never forget the warmth and love in that household. Blanquita would usually include a sort of a ‘hangover’ drink on the menu, which consisted of orange peels, honey, and more rum.
Feeling more energetic, it was time to transport myself to the hills across the town where my teachers lived. The best way to go was to hitch a ride from a motorcyclist to avoid the sweaty and ruthless ascent.
From approx. 3 pm to 7 pm: Intense studying under the authoritarian rule of The Masters. We would dwell into the secrets of different instruments and singing, covering various Cuban musical styles, excluding only the ceremonial Santeria domain, which would have needed a much more profound initiation and perhaps never be even remotely approachable to me. I guess my favorite sessions were with an elderly master of the trés guitar named (somewhat ironically) Bebo. He was a bit of a nasty character with a snappy and aggressive nature. I was soon advised to take into a habit of bringing along a quart of Paticruzado rum for the lessons. This move undoubtedly paved the path for my education, and I got to experience and learn from this phrasing savant in action.
8 pm: Dinner at Blanquita’s pad. My starved person would indulge in this meal with profound gratitude and deliberate joy. These gastronomic events were cooled down, sitting at the roof of the building with some beers and chatting with Blanquita and her daughters. The night chill would start cooling the air, and music started playing from the streets—time to move again.
10 pm to 5 am; Party.
Going around the local venues always seeking for new acts. The volume of offerings in music and dance was so abundant that one could easily lose his mind trying to make sense of the whole scene. I decided not to waste too much time on the analytical/control approach and chose to go with the flow. This strategy proved worthy, and I repeatedly found myself in amazing musical situations that would eternally be branded in my temporal lobe.
If the party happened to end at some point, I would miraculously make my way back to Blanquita’s and crash in my bed, happily aware that the cycle would start the next day again. Good times indeed.
You're a fan of vinyl, as well. I hate to torture you this way, but I think I have to ask: What are your top 3 favorite LPs of all time?
My top favorite LP’s of all time (at the moment) are Jabula “Thunder Into Our Hearts,” “The Best Of The Wailers,” and Nina Simone’s “Wild Is The Wind.”
Speaking of vinyl, you work with Timmion Records as a member of their studio house band, Cold Diamond & Mink, providing the backbeats & grooves for most of the label's releases. Which experience delivers the most goosebumps: capturing studio magic in a live recording session or holding the vinyl in your hands that contains that studio magic moment?
For me, the most magical moment must be during the recording session when we reel back the tape and listen to what was just recorded.
Your breakout debut single (as a solo artist), "This Love," has started a wave of cult-like fandom. Its hazy, dark romantic lyrics and retro soul melody linger like a moody ghost. It's been sampled by indie rapper Earl Sweatshirt & re-released on NYC's Big Crown Records, and your album of the same title rose the Billboard charts - on three different charts. You were poised to perform at SXSW (South by Southwest) Festival this year, but then *dun dun dunnnnn* a pandemic spilled across the globe. Did any of these successes elevate your artistic standing back in Helsinki?
Not too much, I’d have to say. The soul scene over here is not huge. Mostly pop, EDM, and native Finnish language. This is fine by me since I have nothing against moving out and dwelling the globe with my music.
We cannot mention the success of "This Love" without mentioning the cultural movement that really put your North American presence on high: The lowrider soul scenes of Chicano culture found stretching from Southern California to Vegas to San Antonio, Texas. Powered by the culture's DJs & vinyl collectors, amplified through mixtapes & podcasts, Bobby Oroza tunes could be heard blasting from dozens of vintage cars cruising & crawling down boulevards and heard blasting from backyard barbecues & garage parties. How did it feel to be strongly accepted by a subculture that inherently lives, breathes, and celebrates sweet & sour low-fi soul music? What was the experience like to make your West Coast debut?
Oh, man! There’s no way I could overstate the meaning of all that to me, personally, and to my career - which is the same, I guess. Apart from feeling the joy and gratitude to be accepted into this mighty cultural canon and tradition, I’m also elated to have found a way to express a part of my identity and further investigate this side of me. The first time on the West Coast was bonkers. Feeling that love from the crowd started a very profound process in me. I think I’m just now starting to grasp that. I was a dumb-founded man—so much love.
What's next for you? Are you recording a new album?
Yes, we are recording a new album with Cold Diamond & Mink at the Timmion studios. It’s gonna be out next year. I’ll also be doing collaborations. I’ll be going full bore next year.
What advice would you give to a young person from the diaspora who wants to do what you do?
My advice is definitely to seek ways of expression and communication around you. In my family, the refugee experience has been investigated through music, writing, and documentary films by my uncles. If there’s pain, it needs to be let out. I feel that because of this open, continuous, and at times, arduous process of self-realization, my mother has given me a sort of a clean slate to build my own identity. Studying history and culture is also vital. Also, realizing your uniqueness is important.