The original lyrics of “El choclo” are one of the more amusing curiosities in the history of the tango. We only know about this set of words because Ángel Villoldo, who wrote the tune around 1903, recorded himself singing them while in Paris in the year 1912; and since he never registered them with the copyright agency, that slightly muffled electrical recording remains the only evidence of their existence. A few individual words are hard to make out (a subject I will tackle some other time), leading to some interpretive challenges. To complicate matters, there is disagreement over whether the song is full of innuendo (as Héctor Della Costa proposes, on the basis of the song’s suggestive title), or else is a virtuous “ode to corn” (as Tito Rivadeneira argues, in his book-length study on Villoldo).

For my part, I find that both sides quite overstate their case. The lyrics are hardly obscene: dirty songs of the period were not exactly subtle, but full of broad and open humor; to find innuendo in “El choclo” would require a very creative and far-fetched interpretive effort. But neither are the lyrics a pious act of reverence for the New World food crop, as is evident from the very silly stanza (Trio 1) comparing cornsilk to mustaches. (Apparently this was also the favorite stanza of the illustrator who drew the original sheet music cover.) There is also a story, told by the songwriter’s sister and heir, that “choclo” was the name of a local street tough, known for his blond hair, which is the inspiration behind the 1930 version of the lyrics, written by Juan Carlos Marambio Catán (at her behest). Villoldo’s lyrics don’t support this assertion, however; and neither does anything else. Sometimes a corncob is just a corncob.

In any event, there is something we can say for certain about these lyrics. The final stanza depicts a gathering in the country, and features an old group dance called the pericón, which was common to Uruguay, Argentina, Chile, and Paraguay (and later to Brazil as well). Villoldo’s lyrics correspond quite closely to the scenes of such gatherings portrayed from memory by Uruguayan painter Pedro Figari (1861-1938).

The recording linked below is the one made in 1912 by Villoldo himself, during a visit to Paris.

The Corncob (1912)

(Tr. Jake Spatz)
YouTube: Ángel Villoldo (1912 recording)

(Verse)
From a kernel, the plant arises
That grows corncobs when we cull it,
And that’s why in my surmises
It goes so coarsely in the gullet.
And I with my reputation
For the tango in my bandana,
Murmur with jubilation,
Now that there is the bananas.

(Chorus 1)
The cornstalks that ripen
With ears turning golden,
Are so often beholden
By me feeling fond,
When I’ve been out working
All covered in thistle,
With stubble all a-bristle
Just like a humble pawn.

(Trio 1)
With two tufts before me
Turned silky and blonder,
I stand there and ponder
If that’s how they grow,
Like those big mustaches
The fresh virgin soil
Is known to uncoil
On fine noble folk.

(Chorus 2)
At times as the corncob
Is roasting in the fire,
The passion and desire
Of joy can be restored,
When there’s one paisano
Cooking there and stirring,
And another’s pouring
The goodly máte gourd.

(Trio 2)
And once the corn mash
Is good and ready,
Beneath the arbor
You hear a pericón,
And from the roof-eaves
Of a ranch in ruin,
Some heart goes cooing
The merry old song.

El choclo (1912)

Music: Ángel Villoldo
Lyrics: Ángel Villoldo

(Verso)
De un grano nace la planta
que más tarde nos da el choclo,
por eso de la garganta
dijo que estaba humilloso.
Y yo como no soy otro
más que un tanguero de fama,
murmuro con alborozo
está muy de la banana.

(Estribillo 1)
Hay choclos que tienen
las espigas de oro,
que son las que adoro
con tierna pasión,
cuando trabajando
llenito de abrojos
estoy con rastrojos
como humilde peón.

(Trio 1)
De lavada enrubia
en largas quedejas,
contemplo parejas
si es como crecer,
con esos bigotes
que la tierra virgen
al noble paisano
le suele ofrecer.

(Estribillo 2)
A veces el choclo
asa en los fogones,
calma las pasiones
y dichas de amor,
cuando algún paisano
lo está cocinando
y otro está cebando
un buen cimarrón.

(Trio 2)
Luego que la humita
está preparada,
bajo la enramada
se oye un pericón,
y junto al alero
de un rancho deshecho
surge de algún pecho
la alegre canción.

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