Transmission #008: Cuban Nights

Cuban Nights

There are no maps. Only streets; worn smooth by rhythm, by dance, by memory.

Cuban Nights is not a playlist. It is a walk through Havana after sundown. Balconies spill voices into the night, guitars lean against open doors, and the trumpet carries both longing and laughter.

This is not music to rush through.
It is music that lingers in the air, like the scent of rum and tobacco.

Each note carries the patina of time; warm, crackling, imperfect. Bolero slow dances with jazz. Son drifts across the cobblestones. It is music that remembers. Music that welcomes you back, even if you’ve never been.

Best experienced with windows open.
Glass half-full. Heart unguarded.
The kind of sound that turns night into memory.