So that's it for clave changes on this disc, but we still need to talk about "Usa condón", which, although it never budges from 2:3, still has a very confusing introduction which seems determined not to make you think you're in the wrong clave, but to actually make you think that beat 2 is beat 1! Here's the actual introduction [audio example]. The same type of bass line opened both "Hagamos un chen" and "Un disparo en la mirada" and in all three cases it starts on a different beat. Here it begins on the second 16th of beat 4.

There's a strong tendency for the ear to want to hear the piano entrance as "1", like this [wrong audio example].(don't listen to this too many times!)

Now listen to a correct audio example which starts the piano and bass patterns at their real beginnings and gives you a countoff to get you situated [correct audio example].

And in context: [audio example].

Aside from the entrances, the way the harmonies change on weak beats adds to the confusion, but once you finally get it right, the relationship between the clave and the piano feels vividly right and the harmonic tension created by the other factors just makes the music seem more original and compelling.

Finally, here's an totally non-clave related anecdote about "Usa condón" and the perils of trying to learn Spanish that was too weird for the main article, but probably just right for anyone loopy enough to have read this far.

I have to admit that I had no interest whatsoever in learning the Spanish language until I was bowled over by the pure musical power of Timba. Thus, when I first discovered the song "USA CONDON" -- with its title printed on the CD in all caps, and with no accent on the "ó" (not that I knew what the accent meant anyway at that point), I thought it was probably about American athletic shoes (rubber shoes rather than rubbers). In my defense, sports attire from the "Yuma", (and especially that most un-PC icon, Nike), is wildly popular in Cuba. So I had the capitalized "USA" figured for "United States of America" (it turned out to be the familiar command form of the verb "usar", "to use") and I had mixed up "CONDON" and "Converse", one of the lesser Yuma shoe manufacturers. Even the picture on the cover of the album, with neo-flower child Juan Carlos González wearing a large red rubber for a hat, was not sufficient to clue your formely illiterate reporter in on the true topic of the song. The music, however, hit home rather quickly.