By Luke Gaudois
A self-taught guitarist who embodied the flamboyant spirit of the 70s, Darando cruised the streets in a white Rolls Royce equipped with a bar, hot plate, and a police scanner. His attire was as extravagant as his ride – draped in a mink coat, flaunting a diamond ring, and sporting a belt buckle emblazoned with his name. This Berkeley native became a cult figure within the Bay Area soul scene, his presence as vibrant as his music.
Darando’s single “Didn’t I” emerged as a hidden gem, experiencing a resurgence through its sampling in modern songs across various genres and languages. This renewed interest bestowed upon him the recognition that eluded him during the initial release of his music. “Didn’t I,” recorded in the mid-70s along with two other singles, found moderate success commercially. Its recognition was largely confined to the Bay Area, but it was significant enough to secure Darando as an opening act for James Brown.
However, Darando’s journey in the music industry was not without its challenges. A dispute over payments with his record label led to a sudden and mysterious retreat from the public eye. This enigmatic figure then ventured into television, producing four shows for local community cable, the most prominent of which was “Darondo’s Penthouse After Dark”. His versatility extended beyond entertainment, as he later delved into various careers, from real estate investing to working as a cruise guitarist, where he eventually met his wife and left the “fast life” behind.
I discovered Darando through a YouTube video that recorded him performing the aforementioned “Didn’t I” over three decades after its release. The video, shot in his home, shows him removing his rings and tentatively strumming the opening chords. His voice, strained and unable to reach the song’s higher notes, still carries the weight of his soulful past. His performance, interspersed with laughter and a beaming smile, exudes a raw, human quality that left me yearning for more of his music, of which, sadly, there is limited public availability.
The revival of Darando’s career was spearheaded by Bay Area music historian Justin Torres, who facilitated his collaboration with Ubiquity Records. This partnership led to the release of “Let My People Go” in 2006, followed by “Listen to My Song, the Music City Sessions.” These collections presented a tantalising glimpse into what could have been. They posed the perpetual question: had Darondo released an album in the 70s, would he have risen to stardom, as his unique music and charismatic persona seemed to demand? Beyond these projects, Darondo remains an enigmatic figure in music, his legacy continuing primarily through sampling his distinctive sound in new works.
Darando’s journey is a tale of untapped potential, vibrant artistry, and enduring influence, a testament to his timelessness. His story, though shrouded in mystery, continues to reinforce the potential of music to transcend time and place.