I first heard Oscar Alemán on Swing Guitar Masterpieces, released on David Grisman’s label, Acoustic Disc in 1998. I was immediately taken with Alemán’s playing: the buoyant swing, the rhythmic precision, the unexpected turns of phrase. His music had a way of being sophisticated without sounding complicated, and virtuosic without losing its sense of fun. It made you want to move.

When I co-founded the eclectic string-band Hot Club Sandwich in 2000, we played a fair amount of Alemán’s music. Over time, I became increasingly interested in how he put a tune together—not just the melodies and solos, but the rhythmic details,melodic interplay, and clever arrangements that gave his sound its distinctive character.

Alemán is often discussed alongside Django Reinhardt, and for good reason. The two guitarists knew and respected one another. But Alemán developed a musical personality entirely his own, shaped in part by his South American roots. Born in Argentina, he brought influences from South American rhythms into a style that blended naturally with the swing and jazz of the era. He came to prominence in Paris during the 1930s, working with Josephine Baker and some of the era’s leading jazz musicians. His playing combined rhythmic vitality, melodic invention, and a natural showmanship that made him as much an entertainer as a guitarist.

What kept drawing me back was the music itself. Alemán could make a familiar melody sound fresh, and he had an instinct for rhythm that went beyond simply keeping time. His guitar seemed to answer the band around it, punctuating a phrase here, leaning into a beat there. The details were subtle, but they made all the difference.

Around 2016, I formed the Greg Ruby Six to bring Oscar Alemán’s music to swing dancers. I modeled the ensemble on a pair of sides Alemán recorded in 1939 with Swedish violinist Sven Asmussen. I wanted to capture that sound and bring Alemán’s arrangements and compositions to life with a six-piece band. The response was immediate, particularly from Balboa dancers, whose compact, fast-moving style seemed made for Alemán’s propulsive swing. We played everywhere from the top of Seattle’s Smith Tower to DjangoFest Northwest to Lindy Focus, one of the country’s major swing dance events. Seeing dancers connect with this music brought me back to what had captivated me in the first place: its irresistible swing.

Those performances eventually led to Just Like That, my recording inspired by Alemán. Alongside his music, I included original compositions of my own. I wasn’t interested in simply recreating a sound from the past. I wanted to explore what I had learned from his playing and see where it might lead me.

That same curiosity led me to transcribe Alemán’s music. I spent years working through his melodies, solos, chord changes, and arrangements, trying to understand how everything fit together. Transcribing is a slow way of getting to know a musician. You begin by copying the notes, but eventually you start to hear the decisions behind them: the phrasing, the timing, the harmonic choices, the things that make a player sound like themself.

At the time, there were plenty of books and lessons devoted to Django Reinhardt, but none focused exclusively on Alemán. I wanted to make something that would help other guitarists get inside his music, rather than simply read about it.

The result was the Oscar Alemán Play-Along Songbook, Vol. I. It brings together transcriptions, solos, chord charts, play-along tracks, photographs, and an essay by Alemán biographer Michael Dregni. The aim is practical: to give players the material they need to study the music, work on it with their own instruments, and discover its character for themselves.

For me, the book is the continuation of a musical conversation that began when I pushed play on Swing Guitar Masterpieces nearly three decades ago. I’m still learning from Alemán’s playing. The more closely I listen, the more I hear—and the more I appreciate the balance he achieved between precision and spontaneity, sophistication and relentless joy.

Today, I continue to perform Alemán’s music all around the country and at home in New York City. I’ve even adapted one of his arrangements for my forthcoming surf record, a reminder that his music can travel into unexpected territory.

You can study the notes, work through the solos, and examine every chord. But the real point is to make the music swing.

Just like that.

- Greg Ruby