Those of us who found we were sitting on or next to an empty cinema type numberedseat with black gaffer tape covering its number gathered at the front of theroom and then, after a ten-minute break, entered into a windowless studio wheretwo rows of seats were arranged in a semi-circle. In front of the seats werethree high microphones, a keyboard, and a table with an Apple Mac laptop on it(the iconic corporate apple sign was the only thing that glowed in the darkwhile we sang). After an introduction from Drummond, he played a note and itsoctaves above and below and we hummed along to get in pitch to a count of ten.His recording man checked all was entering the Mac hard disc and then Drummondcounted 1,2,3,4 and we began singing the note for five minutes, stopping only aswe wished for breath. The lights were turned off so that we would not feelembarrassed. One was aware of the people each side and voices coming from behindand around while simultaneously being aware of one’s own thoughts– at least I was. I loved the idea of just breathing whenever, asopposed to singing for a phrase, and after a time decided that as five minuteswas a long time I would use it as a meditation and walk along a beach, NorthBerwick beach. By the time we had done the first five-minute note I was onlyhalf-way along the beach.

The International Association for the Study of Popular Music’s biennial international conference took place in July this year in Mexico City. The facilities in the Universidad Iberoamericana, a modern private Jesuit University in the city’s business quarter, were excellent, with video projection and a good sound system in all the air-conditioned rooms. The plenary sessions were translated to and from Spanish and also video recorded and streamed onto the Internet, with a blog where watchers could leave comments.

‘Are ye dancin’?' ‘Are ye askin’?' ‘Yes I’m askin” ‘Then I’m dancin'!' This was the exchange between couples in Glasgow early in the twentieth century at the height of the ballroom dancing boom that made the city one of the dancing capitals of the world. It lingers on in Scottish dancing parlance. In Havana, people were dancing danzón; in Buenos Aires, tango; and in Río de Janeiro, samba. It was a time of big orchestras when women wore evening dresses and men wore suits. Today, whilst the clothes may have changed, dance with its link to sensual pleasure continues to be fundamental to our cultures.

In this Middle Eight using ethnographic observation and interviews made in Cuba in May–July 2005 and March–April 2006 I problematise the new Latina/o dance music ‘reggaetón’ which in the USA is being heralded as ‘‘an expression of pan-Latino identity … the latest Latin musical style to sweep the world … the one with the most promise of finding a permanent, prominent place not just in US but in global popular culture …” (Marshall, 2006). Notably along with hip-hop with which it is now related in Cuban cultural politics, this is the first pan-Latin style of non-Cuban origin to have a strong presence in post-‘Special period’ 1990s revolutionary Cuba. I focus on the significance and possible history of the dance moves and the lyrics of two key songs, discussing possible political double meanings and implications within a Cuban context. While focusing particularly on issues of regeton in Cuba, I place regeton in Cuba in the larger context of reggaetón history in the Latin world and of Latin dance history and discuss it within the constant construction of an appropriate Cuban national identity. I pose open questions about gender, sexuality and generational attitudes. The overall theoretical context falls within the context of Järviluoma et al's work on ‘gender as cultural construction’ (2003). It builds on work on gender and dance which forms a small part of Fairley (2004).